‘No, I can’t have been that good!’

‘Yes you were dear; quite amazing. We have one or two swats here, but judging by this test, you will give them a run for their money. You must have known how intelligent you are?’

‘Well, yes, I suppose so; I…I.’

My eyes started watering a bit and Matron gave me a bit of a hug.

‘What’s the matter Stephanie?’

‘I am…I mean, look Miss; does anyone need to know that I’m quite bright?’

The head mistress looked at me with a frown.

‘I don’t know what you mean; why don’t you want anyone to know about you?’Matron gave me a tissue and I wiped my eyes. They were looking at me, waiting for an answer.

I took a deep breath.

‘At…at my last school I was bullied a bit. I tried to reduce it by making people laugh with my jokes and impersonations, but some kids had no sense of humour and liked hitting me anyway. When I first went there, I did very well in class and in all the tests I came at or near the top. Some kids didn’t like that and I was bullied a lot. I stopped trying to be too clever then and made sure that I made some mistakes in tests and I stopped putting my hand up in class.’

‘Did it help?’ said Matron.

‘A bit, but not always.’

‘So you hid your light under a bushel?’

‘I suppose.’

I was looking down; I didn’t want to see their faces. I was ashamed that I had been bullied and had not stuck up for myself. I know I was small for my age and not too strong, but boys should be strong and stick up for themselves. I lost count the amount of times I cried myself to sleep, thinking about what I should have done to the bullies, but was too cowardly and weedy to do anything.

Once again I felt some arms around my shoulders as I started to cry again.

‘Don’t worry honey,’ whispered Matron, ‘nothing like that will happen here.’

I looked up and tried to smile at her, but it was a feeble effort. I noticed that the head mistress had left the room; I didn’t know why. Matron was talking and I was trying to take in what she was saying.

‘…don’t need to worry about bullying here. The teachers and staff keep a careful eye on things and there are prefects and monitors who have authority to deal harshly with any offenders. Remember too that you have all the girls from the home, who are your friends and they won’t ever allow you to get hurt. Pupils are encouraged to tell teachers if someone is getting hurt in any way. It’s been a long time since a bully has been allowed to prosper in this school.’

Just then, the head mistress came in; she had a glass of orange squash, which she handed to me.

‘Drink this,’ she said with a smile.

I took the glass and sipped the drink. The headmistress went back to her seat and Matron sat down beside me.

‘Do you feel a bit better?’ Said Matron.

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Good; now I’m sure that Matron has explained our bullying policy here; does that ease your mind a bit?’

‘Yes, Miss.’

‘Good; now as far as your education goes, the only time that I or any of my staff would be annoyed with you would be if you do not try 100%; is that clear?’

‘Yes, Miss.’

‘That’s good. Well as far as my saying to you, what will we do with you; luckily, we have a few advanced classes and streams for gifted children, just like we have a few for those children who struggle a bit. I am hoping that we can stretch your mind in those classes, but if not, we will find another way; that’s my problem not yours. You should be proud that you are intelligent. We have sent many girls on to university from here and everyone, including the pupils are proud of our record. Now, I see that it’s time for me to have a staff meeting, so unless you have any further questions, we will see you tomorrow, in uniform; okay?’

‘Yes Miss.’

‘Connie, will you sort out the uniforms and stuff?’

‘Yes, Millie, we’ll see you tomorrow.’

With that, the head mistress grabbed her gown and swept out.

We went to the school uniform shop and after trying on countless items from the dreaded cape to plimsolls, I soon found myself back in the car. I swear that the boot of the car sagged, as it was now full of uniforms and other clothes deemed necessary for a young girl starting at the school for the first time.

We arrived back at the home and Matron helped me to take my new stuff to the dormatory.

After dumping the clothes on the bed, Matron gave me a hug.

‘Wasn’t so bad, after all, was it?’

‘No Matron.’

‘It’s a good school, I think that you will enjoy going there and it sounds a million miles away from your previous one.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Are you still worried?’

‘Yes’ I am a bit. What if I’m found out?’

‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when; remember, the school has some experience of this. I think things will work out fine.’

‘Yes Matron.’

‘One thing though, Stephanie; you seemed surprised that you had such a good score on the test; you must have known how well you did by the answers that you gave.’

‘After making sure that I didn’t appear too clever at my old school, I kind of got into the habit of putting myself down. I thought that my answers were correct, but as my self confidence is very low, I didn’t expect to do so well.’

‘I surprised that you didn’t “cheat” by putting the wrong answers anyway, so you wouldn’t stand out from the other girls.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t do that?’

‘Why?’

‘Because you trusted me to do my best.’

‘Oh Stephanie; you are a little sweetie!’

I went all red for some reason as Matron hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

‘Now, I have things to do. Put the clothes away in your closet and then you can do what you want today. Make the most of your last day of freedom!’
I did as I was told and soon my clothes were put away. I spent some time reading, cuddling my Teddy, listening to the transistor radio and walking in the garden. It was very quiet without the girls about and I got a bit bored. Sheila saw me looking a bit lost and forlorn.

‘Well; what’s up with you?’

‘I’m okay, just a bit bored.’

‘No Tracy to get you into trouble?’

I laughed, ‘something like that.’

‘Fancy a game of tennis?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Do you want a game of tennis?’

‘I can’t play and anyway, where is there a court?’

We have a block membership at the local club around the corner. They are a bit posh, but they do allow people like what we are in there as long as we are clean and watch our P’s and Q’S.

‘But I can’t play.’

‘You can learn; they have tennis as one of the sports at school. It’s lots of fun and you might get to like it.’

‘I haven’t got a bat.’

‘It’s a racquet, silly; you can borrow one of mine. You have tennis whites in the clothes you brought back from school. Lets see if we can find them.’

She went over to my chest of drawers and had a rummage. To be honest, I didn’t look too closely at the frilly stuff that I stuffed in the drawers, but Sheila soon found what she was looking for and put the clothes in a bag. She then got out a short white dress from the wardrobe, I wondered what that was for when I put it away earlier; I thought that it looked miles too short and had been given to me by mistake. Anyway, that went into the bag. Finally, she picked up my plimsolls and put them in a cloth bag with drawstrings and handed the lot to me.

‘Come on, I’ll grab my stuff on the way out.’

Ten minutes later, we arrived at the Milchingham Lawn Tennis Club. It did look posh, the clubhouse being like a sort of a small manor house with several lawn tennis courts and other ones that looked like red gravel surrounding it. People rushing about chasing white balls occupied some of the courts and it all seemed a bit hectic to me.

We went inside the cool, slightly dark confines of the building and walked over to a desk, behind which stood a lady who looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

She looked at us, gave a slightly frosty smile and said, ‘May I help you?’

‘Yes, have you any courts free?’

She looked us up and down as if we were something that cat dragged in.

‘Are you members?’ She asked, her voice sounding like she couldn’t believe it but her duty was to ask anyway.

‘Yes, our home has a block membership.’

‘Oh, you are from the home then?’

‘That’s right.’

She sniffed and didn’t appear that impressed.

‘Hmm; you can have one of the outside gravel courts, number 17 for one hour.’

‘You are so kind,’ said Sheila with slight sarcasm in her voice that seemed to wash over the lady.

‘You are welcome,’ she said in a voice that really meant the opposite.

We picked up our bags and went over to a heavy wooden door with a brass plaque on it that said “LADIES CHANGING ROOM” and in smaller letters below,”Please remove shoes before entering”.

We took our shoes off, walked in and sat on some benches. The place was empty apart from a young girl about my age in the corner lacing up her pure white plimsolls.

I was a bit worried, as I didn’t want her to see me undress and I sort of lingered a bit, rummaged about in my bag and then started to pull the clothes out, slowly.

The girl finished what she was doing and with a glance down her nose at us, and a sniff reminiscent of the lady we had just encountered, she left the room.

‘Are you sure we should be here?’ I said, a bit worried.

‘Yes, of course; we have as much right to be here as anyone else. Now do you want to go into a changing cubicle to change?’

‘Yes please.’

‘Okay, they are over there.’ She said pointing over to the side of the room where there were several doors.

I went over and pushed one of the doors open. I shut the door behind in and sat on the wooden bench. I took off my clothes and hung them on some hooks on the wall and then started to dress in my whites. I didn’t much like the frilly white pants but with a sigh, I put them in. I then struggled into the tennis dress. I found it hard to pull up the zip and nearly dislocated several bones trying to do up the zip behind my back. I frowned as I realised that the skirt barely covered my bum! The ankle socks were fringed with lace and were rather nice, though. Finally, I slipped on the plimsolls and I was finished.

I unlocked the door and went out into the main area. Sheila was waiting for me and looked very pretty in her tennis outfit.

‘Well, Steph, you certainly look the part; very Virginia Wade, shall we go out and smash a few tennis balls at each other?’

‘Okay, but go easy on me.’

Sheila handed me a racquet and we went out into the warm sunlight. I was very conscious of the thin short dress and the fact that my frilly knickers could be seen by anyone who cared to look. Luckily, my boy bits, being still quite small, were not noticeable, bulge wise and at least I didn’t have that embarrassment to contend with.

We passed several courts with people playing tennis, mostly adults but one or two kids were there, including the snooty one from the changing room. She was playing with the confidence of a tennis player who held a racquet before she was given a dummy.

I sighed as we arrived out our court, the furthest away from the building, I might add. Perhaps we weren’t good enough for the grass ones (two of which were not in use) or the ones nearer to the clubhouse or whatever they called it.

Anyway, I stood on one side of the court and Sheila stood on the other and she started to lob balls at me. At first, I missed every one, but I soon got my eye in and started to hit them back at her.

I started to enjoy myself when, accidently on purpose I started to get the ball to go in other parts of the court to where Sheila was weaving and bobbing about. She started to get red in the face as I managed to start to return nearly all of her serves. We had a break then. Sheila was breathing quite hard and looked a bit red and I was feeling okay still.

We sat on a bench and wiped our faces with towels brought out for that purpose.

‘Are you sure you haven’t played before?’

‘No; why?’

‘Because you have a great eye for the ball and had me going there.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise, it’s good to see. When you learn the rules, you will make a great player. I will speak to the tennis pro and see if we can get you some lessons, what with that and playing at school, you will soon be able to beat a lot of kids here.’

I thought of the snooty kid that gave me nasty scares and smiled slightly. Perhaps I could wipe that smile off her face?

Just then I looked up and the nasty, stuck up, snooty girl I was thinking about was standing there, in the flesh and staring down at me. She was sort of smiling in a predatory way, like a tiger about to have a little snack. She licked her lips and then spoke.

‘Hello, I’m Tasmin, would you like a game?’

To be continued…

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