Katy Read online

‘I’ve brought you pudding too. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got you an apple pie and a strawberry yoghurt. You choose which you like best. Or you can have both, I don’t mind,’ said Ryan.

  ‘Those boys are so childish,’ said Cecy, when we went off together after lunch. ‘Typical Year Seven. Still, Ryan’s OK. He’s clearly nuts about you.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. He wouldn’t be, not now,’ I said.

  ‘I think he still fancies you,’ said Cecy. ‘I think it’s great, especially as Eva’s after him.’

  ‘Well, yes, I think it’s great too then, though I still think you’re imagining it,’ I said.

  Still, it was fun to play with the idea even if I didn’t really believe it. I felt almost my own self again. I stayed feeling good the first lesson after lunch, which was English. Mrs Levy was the exact opposite of cool Miss Lambert. She was old and grey-haired and she wore bright red lipstick, not a good combination with large tombstone teeth. She wore a prim blouse and a skirt that sagged at the back and sensible shoes with stumpy heels. I hated the way she read out poetry, all trilling and faux sincere, but I was fine when it came to analysing a poem ourselves. It was ‘Adlestrop’, one of Dad’s all-time favourites. He read it to all of us when we were still at nursery-rhyme stage. We used to chorus it together with enjoyable emphasis:

  YES, I remember AD-LE-STROP –

  all the way through to

  all the birds

  of OXFORDSHIRE and GLOUCESTERSHIRE.

  I might be too fuzzy-brained to cope with maths, but I knew ‘Adlestrop’ backwards, and I wrote two pages about it, even though it’s a really short poem. Mrs Levy was clearly one of those teachers who can’t be bothered doing much marking, so she got a handful of us to read out our essays. Some of the comments were pretty dim:

  This is a poem. It’s about a train station. Nothing much happens. It’s in the country.

  Then she picked on me, so I started rattling through my first page. And then the second. I heard Eva give a loud yawn. Some of the others got a bit fidgety. I knew it probably wasn’t wise being all showy-offy. I’d get labelled an insufferable nerdy teacher’s pet. Still, I’d sooner this than be the poor dumb wheelchair girl who could barely add two and two together.

  It looked like I was certainly going to be Mrs Levy’s pet.

  ‘Marvellous, Katy!’ she said, smiling widely, lipstick all over her two front teeth. ‘You’ve got such a sensitive appreciation of poetry. Well done! It’s going to be a pleasure to have you in my literature class.’

  Someone made a muffled vomiting noise. I can’t say I blamed them. But I didn’t care. OK, maybe I was useless at maths now, but I could manage all the other subjects. I was coping. I was still Katy Carr.

  Then the bell went and I looked at my timetable. Double PE. Oh God. How could I possibly do any sport now? I’d already had two science lessons I’d had to miss. Now I’d have to sit out these two PE lessons too. Still, I wouldn’t mind going back to Miss Lambert in the library.

  I wheeled myself to the classroom door and set off library-wards. I knew the way now.

  ‘Hey, you. Little Miss Suck-up Sensitive,’ Eva called. ‘You’re going the wrong way. We go across the playground and over to the changing rooms for PE.’

  ‘Yeah, but I can’t play wheelchair footie, can I?’ I said.

  ‘Obviously. But Mrs Matthews says you’ve got to go to PE all the same. Mr Myers is going to help you do exercises or something,’ said Eva.

  What? Oh God! It would be like physiotherapy all over again – and in front of everyone else. I went hot all over.

  ‘I’m not coming,’ I said.

  ‘You’ve got to,’ said Eva.

  ‘You can’t make me,’ I said.

  ‘Maybe I can’t. But Mrs Matthews can,’ said Eva. ‘Do you want me to fetch her?’

  I wondered what punishment Mrs Matthews might inflict. She’d wag her finger at me in remonstration, her bangles all a-jangle. Which would be worse: Mrs Matthews treating me like a naughty toddler, or this Mr Myers inflicting useless exercises on me? I couldn’t decide.

  ‘Come on, Katy,’ said Ryan. ‘Come with us lot. You’ll like Mr Myers. He’s good fun.’

  I could picture him already, a great hearty bloke in one of those pale grey tracksuits, all-over sweat stains, with a whistle bobbing about on his big hairy chest. I shuddered at the thought, but I gave in and wheeled along beside Ryan. When we went down the corridor near Mrs Matthews’ room Eva insisted on hanging on to my wheelchair handles and pushing me herself.

  ‘Get off, Eva,’ I hissed.

  ‘Why do you have to be so horrid all the time?’ said Eva, in a teeny-tiny voice, her chin quivering. She went to join Maddie and Sarah, her head lowered. She wasn’t really upset, she was just play-acting to get sympathy. It worked too.

  ‘Poor Eva,’ said Ryan. ‘She was only trying to help.’

  ‘Then why don’t you go and console her?’ I snapped, because that was exactly what Eva was after.

  Ryan stayed walking beside me, frowning. ‘You aren’t half grumpy sometimes, Katy.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you be, if you were me?’ I said.

  Ryan shrugged. ‘Perhaps. Though you were always a bit fierce even before your accident.’

  ‘Rubbish!’

  ‘Some of the kids were a bit scared of you.’

  ‘Were you scared of me, Ryan?’

  ‘Petrified,’ he said, pretending to shake with fear.

  ‘Well, watch out now then,’ I said, making out I was aiming my wheelchair at him.

  He laughed and started running. ‘Can’t catch me!’

  ‘Yes, I can!’ I shouted and I wheeled myself as fast as I could, dodging madly round half the class.

  We reached the doors to the playground together, both of us pushing and shoving.

  ‘Ryan Thompson! I can’t believe it! Were you really shoving a girl in a wheelchair out of your way?’

  It was Mrs Levy, her whole face as red as her lipstick. ‘Katy, are you all right? You could have tipped her right over, Ryan! What were you thinking!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Levy,’ said Ryan, looking upset.

  ‘It wasn’t Ryan’s fault, Mrs Levy, honestly. We were just having a race, that’s all. I was pushing him. Truly,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry, I think I could hurt him far more than he could hurt me!’

  Mrs Levy blinked at us both. Perhaps she was upset that her little sensitive wheelchair girl could fight back.

  ‘Well, I still think it’s not gentlemanly behaviour, Ryan, treating Katy like that. I shall be keeping an eye on you,’ she said. ‘Now open the door for her properly and help her out into the playground.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Levy,’ Ryan muttered.

  I let him take hold of the wheelchair and edge me outside.

  ‘There’s a little gent, Ryan,’ I said softly.

  ‘You’re a total mischief,’ said Ryan. ‘Watch it, or I’ll tip you right out.’

  We both laughed. Eva peered round and looked upset. Hurray!

  It was hard work going all the way over to the PE block on the uneven asphalt and I was already exhausted. Perhaps I could tell this Mr Myers I was much too tired to do any stupid exercises. There wasn’t any point anyway. No exercise in the world would get my legs moving again.

  Ryan and I had to part company at the PE block while we went to our separate changing rooms. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have any PE kit to change into, and even if I had, I wouldn’t have struggled into it in front of everyone for the world. The PE lesson would be practically over by the time I’d got myself sorted.

  So I just sat in my wheelchair gazing at my lap so I wouldn’t be staring at any of the girls. Though I couldn’t help peering every now and then, feeling such painful envy. Everyone was moaning about their figures, sucking in their stomachs and slapping their thighs disgustedly, but I’d have traded places with the fattest, wobbliest girl because she could move about, she could bend over, she could stretch up, she could sit