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Chapter 22: Grainne Looks Forward
SOME weeks later,
Grainne woke earlier than her usual holiday rising time of half past nine.
Wrapping her coverlet around her shoulders in a fashion that would have
horrified Matey, she went to cuddle down in one of the Head’s big armchairs in
the Salon, and look out of the French windows.
Hilda had returned
home the previous week, and since the Maynard clan were not expected back for
another fortnight, Grainne had little planned. She knew that the Graves and
Courvoisiers would entertain her if necessary, but while she was friendly
enough with Marjorie, and liked young Marie, several years her junior, she
couldn’t help missing Cecil and the Crew. Now that she had got to know Hilda
better, she found herself missing that young lady too, and moved restlessly in
the chair. Now, finally, she could have that thinking time that Reg had
mentioned, and she screwed her face into such a grimace that the Head gave her
a startled glance when she entered.
“Grainne! What’s the
matter, child?”
Grainne jumped and
looked sheepishly at Miss Annersley. “Nothing. I just realised I’ve no excuse
now for not thinking stuff through. So I’m going to.”
Miss Annersley laughed
as she sat down herself. “I see. Still, there can’t be any need to look like a
gargoyle over it! Anything I can help you with?”
Grainne shook her
head. “Not right now. I think it’s something I need to do myself,” she added as
Miss Annersley began to sort the mail which arrived as ceaselessly as ever,
even though it was holiday time.
“I see,” said the Head
again, a little absently this time. Grainne grinned to herself and turned back
to her view.
“Here’s one for you,
Grainne,” said the Head presently, and Grainne looked up eagerly.
“From Cecil? Or Hilda?
Or one of the others in the Crew?”
“Your English!” the
Head complained. “None of them. I know their writing, and I think this is from
an adult- it doesn’t look like a child’s writing to me.”
“Who would that be?”
Grainne demanded, confused. “I don’t write to any grown ups!”
“I’m sure Mrs Maynard
and Mrs Entwistle would be flattered to hear that,” Miss Annersley returned
dryly, and Grainne flushed and giggled.
“Well, you know what I
mean!” she argued, and the Head laughed.
“Indeed I do. Suppose
you open it and find out!” and she threw the letter across the room to where
Grainne was sitting. Not surprisingly, she missed, and Grainne had to climb off
her perch to retrieve it.
Greatly wondering, she
ripped the envelope and looked curiously at it’s contents. The writing looked
vaguely familiar, but it was not until she had reached the end of the first
page that the penny dropped, and then she gasped with shock.
Miss Annersley looked
up from where she was frowning over one of her own letters. “Who is it?”
Grainne looked at her
blankly. “It’s my father.”
“What?” Miss Annersley
left her chair and crossed to her pupil. “Does it give an address?”
Grainne handed her the
thin sheaf of papers. “No. It says he’s on the move. And- and that he knows.
How could he know?”
“Dr Benson must have
succeeded in getting in touch with him!” the Head exclaimed as she skimmed
through the letter.
“How would Dr Benson
be able to do that?” Grainne asked.
“She’s met him at a
conference a few times. When you said you didn’t know how to get in touch with
him, we had to ask her. If you remember, I did say that we needed to contact at
least one of your parents,” Miss Annersley reminded the girl.
“Oh yes. Can-. Sorry.
May I have it back please?” and Grainne finished off with a grin almost as
cheeky as one of Cecil’s, and the Head laughed as she handed them over.
“I’m going to keep you
away from Cecil in future. She’s a bad influence!”
“Are you going to tell
Auntie Jo that?” Grainne asked so seriously that it took the Head a moment to
realise that she was being teased.
“I haven’t decided
yet.” She looked at her watch. “Miss Wilson and I are going for a walk this
morning. We’ll be back in time for lunch. Will you be all right here?”
Grainne said that she
would be fine, and the Head went off with a light heart to meet her friend.
“Who would have thought that that shy little misery of a girl could have
developed so much in one term?” she mused. “It’s amazing what a little kindness
can do!”
Once Miss Annersley
had left, Grainne looked at the letter again. She was astonished. Firstly, she
was surprised that her father had even deigned to contact her at all. Secondly,
she was touched that, although the phrases were stiff and stilted, her father had
made it clear that he did not hold her responsible for what had happened.
Furthermore, he had gone on to explain that he had not even known that she had
been taken away from Holy Family until Dr Benson had contacted him, and he was
deeply sorry for all she had been through. He could not get away for some time
to come, but he hoped that Grainne would believe that he had her best interests
at heart, and that she would allow him to correspond with him. He finished off
by apologising for not being a better parent, and it was this last that made
Grainne gape openmouthed at the letter.
It was incredible the
difference it made just knowing that one of her parents was even just a little
interested in her, she thought dreamily as she watched Miss Annersley cross the
garden to meet the Head of St Mildred’s. Grainne shivered as she remembered
what had wakened her that morning. It had been a distinct flutter inside her,
and, primed by both Daisy and Len, Grainne had known that it would happen at
some stage. All the same, she had still not been prepared for how she would
feel when she felt the baby move for the first time. Until now, everything had
been hypothetical. She had accepted, in an intellectual and theoretical way,
what had happened, but beyond her initial anger and hurt- and fear- she had not
had much in the way of an emotional response. Now it stopped being an idea and
became reality. In a few months time, there would be a real, live baby- hers.
She still quailed at the thought of being responsible for another life, when
she still felt herself to be a child, but at the same time she did not want the
baby to grow up with the feelings of rejection that coloured her own childhood.
She remembered the two
proposals suggested if she did decided she wanted to keep the baby herself. One
had been that she move into a dormitory in school, with the baby and near the
San, and continue a more or less ordinary school life. Grainne thought it
sounded like a nice idea in theory, but she wasn’t convinced she would like it
in practice. Neither did she like the idea of the entire school knowing that
she was in a separate dormitory and why. Then there was what Cecil had said-
that most new girls tended to come in the Autumn and Easter terms. Grainne
shrank before the prospect of being the girl who was pointed out to others as
the one who had a baby at school. No, the more she thought of it, the less she
liked the idea.
The second suggestion
had been brought up by the Entwistles. Reg had already started planning an
extension onto his little chalet with his wife, and they had told Grainne that
she could move in with them both before and after the birth, once everything
was ready. It wouldn’t hurt Gina to have another small child in the house, Len
had said firmly, and it would allow Grainne to continue school life with a
semblance of normality.
She could go in with
Mrs Entwistle before Prayers, stay in School all day, and return to Die Rosen
shortly before Abendessen. Len had also added that being a day pupil would not
exempt her from school trips and entertainments and so on- and, indeed, that
she would still be expected to participate in School life. The baby could be
left at the new crčche the School was planning to start in September, and
Grainne, like Len, would have the evenings to spend with her child.
Best of all, from Grainne’s
perspective, she would have Len’s help and support, and she knew that everyone
else would also rally round. Maybe in the future, she’d be able to be a boarder
again, although she didn’t see how, but this option, unlike the other, was a
viable proposition. “At least,” she thought, “like Reg says, I don’t need to
decide yet. It’s not coming until December. I can think some more between now
and then, although I suppose I should have an idea by the end of September.”
She smiled and snuggled up in her coverlet again, in spite of the warmth of the
summer morning. Suddenly, the future was looking much brighter.
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