Katy Read online

  I had another strange dream that night. I was with Helen and we were out together, the two of us dressed up. We were sitting hunched, legs dangling, as if we were in our wheelchairs, but there weren’t any wheels or even chairs – we were just suspended in space. We were moving forwards at a great rate as if we were riding on the air itself.

  ‘Follow me!’ Helen cried, and she sped right up into the sky.

  ‘Helen! Come back! Wait for me!’ I cried.

  ‘You come and join me,’ she called.

  I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even have anything to cling to. I just had to will myself upwards. I jerked backwards and forwards, straining desperately, and just as I was about to give up I suddenly juddered upwards, just a few inches above the ground.

  ‘That’s it. That’s the way!’ Helen called.

  I soared upwards until I joined her way above the rooftops and we raced along together, both of us shouting for joy.

  When I woke up I still felt joyful, even though I was imprisoned in my bed. Well, I wasn’t quite a prisoner. I’d just got into the habit of lying there, waiting while Izzie got up and made breakfast and organized all the children and got them off to school. I always felt desperately tired in the morning, as if I hadn’t slept at all, and transferring myself out of bed seemed like far too much effort. But today I heaved myself about and managed to get myself into my wheelchair, though I almost toppled on to the floor in the process. Then I wheeled myself quietly into the shower and did the whole transferring process all over again on to the shower seat.

  ‘Katy?’ Izzie was knocking at the door, sounding anxious. ‘Katy, are you all right? Have you had an accident?’

  ‘For goodness’ sake,’ I muttered, because she was treating me just like Phil. ‘I’m fine,’ I said louder. ‘Don’t worry so, Izzie. I just thought I’d get myself up for once.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ she called. ‘Shall I just come in and –’

  ‘No!’ I said. Then I took a deep breath. ‘No, thank you, Izzie. I can manage.’

  And I did manage too, though it took me ages and ages to get my pyjamas off and then there was a kerfuffle turning on the shower, trying to get it not too cold and not too hot, and then I realized I was clutching the shower gel but not the shampoo, which was way out of my reach over on the windowsill. So my hair got washed with gel and actually it didn’t seem to make any difference whatsoever.

  Izzie came back twice to check on me, and the children banged on my door too before Mrs Hall took them all to school. I called back to each of the children. Elsie knocked last, breathless because she’d been hunting hard for her school shoes ever since she got up (it turned out Philly had turned them both into boats and taken his two tiniest teddies for a sail in them on his bed). She knocked so loudly that my eyes jerked open and I got shower gel in them, which stung a lot. I’d normally have yelled at her but I somehow stopped myself.

  ‘Bye, Elsie,’ I called. ‘Have a good day. Don’t worry if Mr Peters shouts at you. He’s grumpy with everyone. If he has a go at you just stare back at him and imagine him stark naked, all big fat pink belly, and then you won’t be scared of him. That’s what I used to do when I was in his class.’

  ‘Really!’ said Elsie. ‘Big fat pink belly! Oh Katy, you are funny.’

  ‘Elsie! Mrs Hall’s waiting for you – and I’ve found your shoes,’ Izzie called distantly from the front door.

  ‘Coming! Just saying goodbye to Katy. Goodbye, Katy! See you later, alligator!’

  This was a silly saying of Dad’s, something that his dad used to say to him when he was little. I generally found it so daft I didn’t respond, but today I called, ‘In a while, crocodile!’ in a deep, alligator-ish voice, which made Elsie giggle.

  There, Helen! I said inside my head.

  I was exhausted by the time I’d finished and turned the shower off, but I couldn’t just flop back into my wheelchair soaking wet. I had to towel every bit of myself and dry my hair too. Then I had to wheel myself back into the library, naked and shivering, wondering how on earth I was going to get my clothes out of the cupboard when I was so bone-shakingly tired. I found Izzie had laid my underwear and T-shirt and jogging bottoms out on my bed, easily within reach. It was a dreadful struggle to get them all on. I had to inch things up, and everything stuck to me because I was still damp. My joggers were all twisted, and I couldn’t face bending over to fix my shoes, but I was more or less dressed. I’d done it!

  Izzie knocked on the door and came in with a cup of hot chocolate with a cap of white frothy cream.

  ‘Here – I think you need this!’ she said. ‘Well done, Katy.’

  ‘I’m so tired I feel like going back to sleep,’ I said. ‘This is a bit mad. I’m going to take all day getting myself up, and then as soon as I’ve done it I’m ready for bed.’

  ‘It’ll get easier with practice. Oh Katy, I’m so proud of you. But I don’t mind helping if it makes it easier for you.’

  ‘Well, perhaps you will have to help me at first when I go back to school,’ I said.

  ‘School?’ said Izzie. ‘So would you like to go and see some schools with your father?’

  ‘Well, I was thinking … maybe I should go to Springfield after all,’ I said.

  ‘But you were so adamant that you couldn’t bear it,’ said Izzie.

  ‘Yes, but I talked it over with Helen and now I think maybe I’d like to give it a try.’

  ‘I think that’s a good idea. And Cecy will be there. She’ll look after you,’ said Izzie.

  I bristled. ‘I won’t need looking after.’

  ‘That’s true. You’ll manage splendidly,’ said Izzie hurriedly.

  I licked the cream from the top of my hot chocolate. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It will be good to have Cecy there. And she’ll help me catch up. Izzie, do you really think I’ll manage?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Izzie.

  ‘And at least I’ll be out of your hair if I’m away at school every day.’

  ‘Well. You never know. I might miss you,’ said Izzie.

  ‘Rubbish!’

  ‘I said might.’

  So it was decided. I was going back to school.

  22

  Dad made an appointment with Mrs Matthews, the head teacher, and we went to see her the next morning. I’d seen her already when we all visited Springfield during my last term at primary school. She was large, with longish curly hair and floppy purple clothes and lots of big beads and clanking bangles. She looked like one of those soft, soppy nursery teachers who show you how to do finger painting in Reception class. I expected her to simper at me and say, ‘Hello, what’s happened to you, you poor little girly?’

  Nothing of the sort.

  ‘How do you do, Dr Carr, Katy? Do come and sit down,’ she said briskly.

  Dad sat on a proffered chair. I was clearly already sitting.

  ‘It’s good of you to see us immediately, Mrs Matthews,’ said Dad, in his most doctorly voice. ‘But Katy has made a good recovery and feels she’s ready to go to school now.’

  ‘But I thought you felt Springfield was unsuitable. When you phoned earlier –’

  ‘I know. Katy felt she needed to make a completely fresh start, at a school where she didn’t know anyone, given her circumstances. But now –’

  ‘Now I’ve changed my mind,’ I said, though actually inside I was still wavering. I kept thinking about Eva Jenkins and her cronies imitating me, calling me names; about Ryan looking at me pityingly and backing away from me. But Helen had given me courage. I would cope with them. Somehow.

  ‘The trouble is, I’ve already given your place to someone else,’ said Mrs Matthews smoothly. ‘So it’s going to be a bit of a problem. Did you put Katy’s name down at another school in the interim, Dr Carr?’

  ‘No, we didn’t. I went to look at several schools, but none seemed suitable,’ said Dad.

  ‘I wonder if you looked at Manor Road? I believe they have several disabled p