A Blessing In Disguise by Elvi Rhodes Read Free Book Online Page B

been there yesterday to welcome you.’
    There are papers on the table, which Mrs Sharp shuffles through before selecting one. ‘Well, Becky,’ she says, ‘I had a nice letter about you from your school in Clipton, from Mrs Porter. She was your Headmistress, wasn’t she?’
    She doesn’t wait for an answer. Just as well.
    â€˜She tells me you are a bright girl, that you worked hard and you were friendly. So it seems to me you’ll fit in well at St Mary’s. You’ll be in Year Five when you start here next Monday. I’m sorry you couldn’t be here for the beginning of term but I’m sure you’ll soon catch up. Who knows, you might be ahead!’ Mrs Sharp has a voice which is at one and the same time both businesslike and soothing. I can imagine her dealing exceptionally well with playground disasters. However, Becky is unmoved.
    Mrs Sharp hands the letter to me so that I can get the whole story while she tries, with little success, to chat with Becky. What the Head at Clipton has also said is that since her father’s death Becky has become a difficult child whom some of the staff have found hard to handle, though they understand why. She hopes allowances will be made for her and that she will be sympathetically treated. ‘You can be sure of that,’ Mrs Sharp says to me as I hand back the letter.
    â€˜So have you bought your uniform yet?’ she asks Becky, who shakes her head.
    â€˜We’re going into Brampton for it tomorrow afternoon,’ I tell Mrs Sharp.
    â€˜Good! It’s a rather pretty shade of blue this year. We change colours every two years so you don’t get bored with it. And don’t forget, Becky, you can wear any combination you like, as long as it’s the school uniform. You can wear the shirt with or without the sweater or the sweater without the shirt, or the pleated skirt or the plain. Whatever takes your fancy on the day.’
    A bell rings, loud enough to waken all Thurston.
    â€˜Break time!’ Mrs Sharp announces. ‘So Becky, why don’t we go into the playground and I’ll introduce you to your class teacher? Mr Beagle his name is.’
    She ushers us out into the playground, espies Mr Beagle who is keeping an eye on a group of boys and girls kicking a ball about, and summons him.
    â€˜This is Mrs Stanton, our new Vicar and, more to the point at this moment, the mother of Becky who, as you already know, will be in Year Five from next Monday.’
    Mr Beagle shakes my hand with a grip so firm that I wonder if he has broken one or more of the small bones, then turns to look straight at my daughter and says ‘Hi, Becky!’ His look is so direct that she can hardly avoid it and before she can control herself I hear her saying ‘Hi!’ Not with any enthusiasm of course, but she has actually spoken. She has not totally lost her voice from lack of use. Well done, Mr Beagle!
    â€˜Why don’t you introduce Becky to a couple of people?’ Mrs Sharp suggests to him. ‘Just for a minute or two.’
    He looks at Becky. ‘Yes or no?’ he asks. ‘The choice is yours!’
    She is faced with a question she must answer and, to my astonishment, she gives a faint nod, which Mr Beagle chooses to treat as a wholehearted ‘yes’, and off they go. As they walk away, against his height – he is tall and broad – she looks small and vulnerable and my heart aches for her.
    â€˜Don’t worry, she’ll be all right. We’ll look after her,’ Mrs Sharp assures me. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her myself. And if any problems do crop up please let me know and I’ll deal with them. We’re a happy school on the whole and I don’t see why Becky shouldn’t enjoy herself once she’s got to know people.’ Then, changing the subject, she says, ‘I’d like to talk to you some time about the school vis-à-vis the church. I have a