Careful What You Wish For (18 page)

Ruth was literally struck dumb, first with shock and then with terror.

‘It’s with me!’ Bridie explained, wanting Ruth to be pleased too. ‘I’m in Winnie’s class. She’s not so bad when you get to know her. We’ll be in class together!’

‘But Bridie,’ Ruth said carefully, ‘she doesn’t like me one little bit.’

‘Yes she does!’ Bridie laughed. ‘Don’t worry about
her
. It’ll be good.’

Ruth had to smile. Bridie’s easy warmth was infectious. ‘You actually went up and spoke to her?’ Ruth was overwhelmed. Imagine having the audacity to speak to such a fearsome creature!

Bridie grabbed Ruth’s broom and dustpan. ‘Come on, don’t worry about this too much. Only the music kids come here most days, so you won’t be checked.’ She shoved the broom into a corner cupboard and reached into her pocket and pulled out a small leather-bound book. ‘Winnie gave me this to give to you.’

‘What is it?’ Ruth took the book and stared at the gold cross on the front and then at the gilt-edged pages. The book wasn’t new. There were worn patches on the cover and the red page marker was a little grubby. Just inside the front cover was a list of five girls’ names, none of which rang any bells for Ruth.

‘Your missal,’ her new friend explained. ‘Everyone has to have one. You’ll be in big trouble if you lose it. You must bring it to Mass with you every morning and if you get some spare time in class then you should read it.’

‘Really?’ Ruth flicked through the pages. It seemed to be filled with short stories and prayers and black-and-white pictures, with an occasional one in lurid colour. Ruth put the book in the pocket of her blazer and smiled at Bridie. She had so many questions she didn’t know where to start.

‘So what class are we in?’ Ruth asked.

‘Seventh grade,’ Bridie replied. ‘Winnie said you could start there even though you’re a little young.’

Ruth was only in Grade Six. What if she couldn’t keep up with the work? But somehow Bridie made her put all her apprehension aside, at least for the time being. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ Ruth said sincerely, ‘I really don’t.’

‘What are friends for?’ Bridie said simply, putting her arm through Ruth’s. ‘Better hurry now or we’ll be late.’

* * *

The classroom was big and gloomy with about fifty wooden desks in rows. The ceilings were high and the windows were long and had heavy wooden frames. Two lights hung down from the ceiling, but there was no heating. When Ruth and Bridie came in, quite a few girls were already sitting around in groups talking and laughing. Some of them stopped to look at Ruth curiously, but most were friendly.

‘Heard you had a run-in with the witch this morning,’ someone joked. ‘Don’t fret too much. You’ll get used to her!’

‘Happens to the best of us!’ someone else called out.

A rush of gratitude for their friendliness washed through Ruth and she smiled. She was getting used to things; maybe this was going to be the life for her after all.

Bridie ushered Ruth down to the back of the classroom and opened up one of the old-fashioned desks, showing her the empty space for her books.

‘Winnie said she’d sort you out with books at the end of the day,’ Bridie told her. ‘Until then you can share with me.’

‘Okay, thanks,’ Ruth mumbled, watching in amazement as a girl went around filling up the little wells in the tops of the desks from a big bottle of black ink. She noticed that some of the girls were holding old-fashioned fountain pens, which they filled up with ink as they chattered. The only place she’d seen them before was in a movie!

‘What year is it?’ Ruth asked Bridie bluntly.

A couple of girls at a nearby desk heard the question, and after glancing at each other they turned to look at Ruth curiously.

‘You don’t know what year it is?’ Bridie was obviously puzzled too. Ruth shook her head.

‘It’s 1951.’ Bridie smiled but her eyes were sceptical. ‘What year did you think it was?’

But Ruth could only shrug. She sat down and opened the exercise book that Bridie gave her, trying not to appear shocked. She’d had the feeling something was strange but … this was truly weird. She wondered if Rodney had meant to do it or if he’d messed things up again. Maybe he’d forgotten to do something really important. Going back in time hadn’t been mentioned, as far as she could remember.
1951!
That meant before television came to Australia. Before computers and freeways and mobiles and proper supermarkets. How was she going to cope without all of that?

There was a clacking sound of beads rattling. All the girls immediately stiffened and went quiet as the sound became louder. Suddenly the black form of Sister Winifred appeared in the doorway. Everyone stood to attention.
You could hear a pin drop
. Ruth now knew exactly what that phrase meant! She tried to make herself invisible by hiding behind the girl in front of her. The last thing in the world she wanted was another run-in with Sister Winifred!

‘In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.’ Sister Winifred blessed herself and the girls followed suit. Up to the forehead with the right hand and then to the lower chest, then to the left shoulder and then the right. Bridie had shown Ruth how to do it and she had almost got the hang of it. Sister Winifred was standing on a little platform in front of them, her body turned to the big crucifix on the side wall, eyes closed and hands joined in silent prayer. The girls did exactly the same. Ruth looked around furtively as she tried to copy what everyone else was doing.

Suddenly the nun called out, ‘Oh Jesus, through the most pure heart of Mary we offer you all our prayers, works, joys and sufferings of this day …’ The prayer went on for some time and Ruth moved her mouth around pretending that she too was praying, all the while thinking it was crazy. She didn’t believe for a minute that anyone was listening, especially not the poor man bleeding up there on that cross. But she was desperate not to call attention to herself in any way.

At the end the girls all muttered
Amen
and then they blessed themselves again. Sister Winifred opened her eyes and looked around. She stared down the row of girls and caught Ruth’s eye for a brief moment.
Oh no!
She’d seen her.

‘Good morning, girls, and God bless you.’

‘Good morning, sister!’ the girls chorused back. ‘God bless you, sister!’

‘Please welcome our new girl, Ruth.’

There was a brief burst of clapping from the whole class and some of the girls turned to smile at Ruth.

Sister Winifred nodded formally and said, ‘Welcome, Ruth.’

‘Thank you, sister,’ Ruth said immediately, and then waited, heart in her mouth, for the nun’s reaction. Had she done it right? Maybe she should have said something else, like
God bless you
.

But amazingly, and much to her relief, the nun was already turning to the pile of books on her desk.

‘Be seated please, girls, and take out your notebooks.’

* * *

The morning with Sister Winifred went by very quickly. Ruth had never enjoyed school so much. First there was Religion, which was quite interesting because she had never known anything about it before. The first half-hour was Bible Study, with some early church history thrown in. All the other girls had their own Bible, and Ruth felt self-conscious because she was the only girl without one, until Bridie pushed hers over to the middle so she could share.

After Bible Study there was half an hour of preparation for confirmation. The whole class was going to be confirmed by the local bishop the following month, and there was an astonishing amount of protocol to learn. They were told at what pace to walk, when to lower their eyes, when to look up, even how to kiss the bishop’s ring!

Then, on the stroke of the bell, Sister Winifred stopped almost in mid-sentence and began to teach Maths. The same thing happened an hour later when she switched over to History. She was a good teacher, concise and clear and fast. She moved from one thing to the next without the usual messing around. Just a few questions to make sure the subject matter was understood and then it was on to the next bit. Up till now Ruth had found school too easy. Sure it could be interesting, but it went too slowly for her. Here she had to concentrate to keep up, and she liked it.

To her immense delight, Ruth found that not only could she keep up with the Grade Seven work, but she also seemed to understand everything more quickly than anyone else. At one point she turned excitedly to Bridie, about to say how much she was enjoying it all, when she caught a glimpse of Bridie’s work. She was amazed to see that her new friend was way behind with everything. Her Maths page was indecipherable and her writing was messy, with ink splotches and letters all over the place. It was like the work of a Grade One just learning to write. And she was very slow. Bridie only managed to copy half of what was on the board in the time Ruth took to copy it all.

At one stage, Sister Winifred walked up and down the aisles to check their work. Ruth’s heart almost stopped beating when the nun took a look over her shoulder. She had to fight the inclination to put her arm over her work and hide it.

‘So you’re not unintelligent,’ the nun said eventually, ‘but what odd handwriting!’

Ruth looked at the work of a couple of other girls nearby. Their writing was all connected up and hard to understand.

‘Still, it’s easy enough to read and that is the main thing,’ the nun said. She smiled at Ruth, who coloured with pleasure. She had pleased Sister Winifred. What a feat!

‘If you finish early, don’t waste time,’ Sister Winifred said with another aloof smile. ‘Take out your missal.’

‘Yes, sister!’ Ruth said.

Unfortunately Bridie’s work didn’t get the same reaction, but the nun was kind enough as she asked a few simple questions. Apart from her unintelligible scrawl, Bridie seemed bamboozled by much of what the nun had taught them that morning. After working out a time to meet after school for extra lessons, Sister Winifred moved on.

When the class was dismissed for the short morning break, Ruth put her arm briefly around her new friend’s shoulders.

‘I can help you, Bridie,’ she said. ‘After school we’ll go through it all.’

‘I’m too slow,’ Bridie sighed. ‘I can’t learn anything.’

‘Everyone can learn,’ Ruth said firmly, ‘you just have to do it at your own pace.’

‘But I’m completely dumb.’

‘You’re not dumb!’ Ruth nudged her and smiled. ‘I know some dumb people and they’re not like you.’

A sparkle appeared in Bridie’s eyes.

‘Really?’

‘I know it.’

Bridie sighed miserably, as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. ‘Even if you could help me improve my writing it would make such a difference,’ she said passionately.

‘So Winnie is always at you?’ Ruth asked sympathetically.

‘Not Winnie.’ Bridie shook her head. ‘She’s always kind and tries to help me.’

‘Who then?’

Bridie looked at the big round clock striking half-past eleven.

‘Next class is Spelling and Dictation with Sister Gregory.’ Bridie shuddered. ‘I dread Tuesdays and Thursdays so much because of her. She’s the one we had at breakfast. Thunder Guts.’

‘So in what way is she awful?’

‘You’ll see.’

16

‘B
ridie Fallan, which hand are you using?’ Sister Gregory called loudly about fifteen minutes into class.

Bridie gave a low moan of despair.

‘Sorry, sister!’ she said, eyes lowered. ‘I just … forgot.’

Ruth looked over to see Bridie quickly change her pen from her left hand to her right.

‘Forgot?’

‘Yes, sister.’

‘Well, then, we must help you remember! Out the front at once.’

‘Oh please, sister, I won’t do it again! I promise.’

‘Out the front, please!’

Shamefaced, Bridie clambered up from her desk and walked slowly to the front of the class.

The rest of the girls watched as enormous, blotchy-faced Sister Gregory pulled a grubby old piece of canvas out of her desk drawer. She grabbed Bridie’s left hand, pushed it up behind her back and tied it there by wrapping the canvas around her wrist and knotting the ends around the girl’s neck.

Ruth was completely dumbfounded. What was going on? ‘Well, doesn’t Bridie look nice, girls!’ the nun chortled and turned Bridie around for the rest of the class to see. ‘Believe me, by the end of the year she won’t even know that she has a left hand!’

This brought a titter of polite laughter from the class, but Ruth was pleased to see that the vast majority weren’t impressed. Their sympathy was with Bridie, not the nun.

‘Now, back to your seat, miss!’ The nun gave Bridie a little jab in the back.

With downcast eyes, Bridie walked down the rows to her desk next to Ruth. She picked up her pen with her right hand and began to copy what was on the board. Ruth could see her lip trembling, but she waited until the nun’s back was turned before she said anything.

‘Why did she do that?’

‘I’m left-handed.’

‘So?’