Forever Is Over (6 page)

Amy told us that she had been invited to Joey Birch
’
s party in
Halsall on Friday night. Joey Birch was
in our year, he was in 5 Left.
There were six classes in total in our year, North, South, East, West,
Left and Right. I was in 5 North.
“
Left
”
and
“
Right
”
was our school
’
s
very tactless way of branding two classes as
“
not quite as bright
”
. Joey
didn
’
t try much at school. He wanted to be some sort of mechanic that
worked on motorbikes, his two older brothers each had bikes and he
had started riding them too, as he had been sixteen the previous month.
His Mum and Dad had gone to Canada for their Silver Wedding
anniversary, so the three lads had decided to have a massive party the
following Friday! Not to celebrate the Silver Wedding I wouldn
’
t have
thought!
Joey and Amy used to get on really well, so he told her to come
along and bring some (and I quote)
“
fit mates
”
!
My first thought when Amy told me this, was that I wouldn
’
t be
allowed as Mum would be out with her mates and I
’
d have babysitting
duties for Kelly.

Kelly must have thought this too as she said,

“
Jemma, if Mum
’
s going out, I
’
ll make arrangements to stop over at
a friend
’
s, so you can go out too.
”

She was
a
little star, Kelly. The problem was, for many years after,
I wished she hadn
’
t been so kind
hearted and I had never been to that
stupid party!

On the basis that Kelly was sorted, I agreed to go. The rest of the
weekend was spent keeping out of Vomit Breath
’
s way. Des
p
ite staying
in bed all Saturday morning to sleep off her hangover, on Saturday
afternoon she tried to get rid of it, by drinking her way through it, but
this just meant that Sunday was a carbon copy of Saturday, except it
started differently, as some ugly, bearded bloke left her room on Sunday
morning.
It was back to school on Monday and as Friday grew nearer, Amy
and I talked about nothing else other than Joey
’
s party. So, in Miss
Caldicott
’
s lesson on Friday morning, I wasn
’
t paying much attention (surprise
, surprise
!), I was just trying to get my name off the desk
and thinking about the party that evening, what I would be wearing,
what make-up I
’
d put on and
how I was going to get back from Halsall to Ormskirk before
“
Vomit Breath
”
.

At one point, I was carving away on the desk and I somehow felt
the glare of thirty pairs of eyes on
me or forty really as there were
about
ten kids with glasses in our class, so they counted double. Then, I felt
an icy shadow over me and looked up to see a very unimpressed Miss
Caldicott. It
’
s hard to describe Miss Caldic
ott. I suppose the best way is
to say that if there had been a competition for
“
World
’
s Ugliest Woman
”
in 1987, she would have come a close second to Vomit Breath! She
wasn
’
t that old,
thirtyish, but had greasy black hair, glasses and lots of
moles and warts with hair coming out of all of them. Someone once
said she looked like she was
“
spawned by the Yeti
”
and that
’
s just about
the perfect description!

Anyway, Miss Caldicott, half English teacher, half Yeti, growled
angrily at me,

“
What do you think you
’
re doing, Miss Watkinson?
”

“
Don
’
t know, miss
”
.

“
You don
’
t know! Surely you know what you were doing, you have
a compass in your hand
”
.

“
I was cleaning the desk, miss
”
.

She didn
’
t like that. Steam came out her ears and if you
’
d have
tipped her head to one side, with a mug and a teabag beneath her, you
could have made a fine cup of tea.

“
It didn
’
t look like cleaning to me! It looked like vandalism to me.
”

             
I never knew when to give up on
something. I told you Amy was
tactful and I was not.

“
Someone has written about me on this desk, miss. I was just trying
to get it off.
”

“
Save your breath, Watki
nson! Go and explain it to Miss
Turnbury
.
NOW!
”

Shit! Miss Turnbury (or
“
CC
”
as we called her) was Deputy Head
and also Head of Girls. She was about
one hundred and six years old.
The school was founded centuries ago and she was probably teaching
back then. She hadn
’
t updated her teaching methods either. They were
still PRE-Victorian. Anyway, off to her office I went. I knocked on her
door, praying she
’
d gone roaming somewhere, seeking out misbehaviour
like Supergran gone wrong. No such luck. She was in.

“
Enter!
”

I entered. She was sat there behind an old oak desk, writing
something with a fountain pen. No doubt it was some sort of lecture,
as Miss Turnbury was forever lecturing. She gave me a cold stare.

“
I guess, Miss Watkinson, that you are not here on a social visit?
”

“
No, miss.
”

I would have loved to say,

“
Well, actually, I am as it happens. Miss Caldicott
’
s lesson was
boring me shitless so I thought I
’
d come and rescue you from 1834. I
’
m
going to a party tonight to lose my virginity, fancy coming with me and
losing yours?
”

Obviously, that
’
s what I would ha
ve loved to say with hindsight
anyway. I wasn
’
t exactly planning to lose my virginity that night. If I
had said something similar, Miss Turnbury probably would have re-
introduced hanging to Ormskirk Grammar or even beheading.

Still, as much as I would have liked to, I didn
’
t say any of the above
other than,

“
No, miss
”
.

“
So, why are you here then, Miss Watkinson?
”

She said this with the superiority complex that she had evidently
spent centuries perfecting.

“
Miss Caldicott sent me, miss
”
.

“
Why though? Why did she send you?
”

“
I was carving something off the desk, miss
”
.

“
Carving something off the desk or carving something on?
”

“
Off
”
.

“
You don
’
t strike me as a Good Samaritan, Miss Watkinson
”
.

I tell you, I would have enjoyed striking her on her grey haired top
lip. I didn
’
t though!

“
No, miss. Someone had written something on the desk about me,
miss. I was just taking it off. It
’
s not fair that
…”

I thought I was really beginning to sound like the innocent victim,
sometimes I was so good at it, I managed to persuade myself I was hard
done by! Miss Turnbury wasn
’
t falling for it though!

“
STOP!
”

They were all the same, teachers, they
didn
’
t like
elongated
excuses.

“
Miss Watkinson, I don
’
t care whet
her you were carving something
ON the desk or carving something OFF the desk. The fact is, you were
carving. Miss Caldicott was taking a lesson and you had a compass
out and you were carving on the desk. It
’
s vandalism. Pure vandalism.
I have absolutely no choice but to punis
h you. Luckily for you though,
young lady, I can swiftly administer this punishment. I have a number
of school reports to sign off tonight, so you can join me in the office,
after school and complete your lines here. I expect to be here until eight
o
’
clock so you can now expect to be here until eight o
’
clock too.
”

This wasn
’
t a detention! This was a date! She had no-one to keep
her company in her sad and lonely life so I was being punished to fill the void.

“
But miss, my Mum will be expecting me home
”
.

I was hoping that Miss Turnbury was unaware of Vomit Breath
’
s
reputation.

“
I shall get the school secretary to ring your Mother and explain
your late arrival home.
”

You
’
ll have to ring the pub, I thought. Then it dawned on me -
the party!

“
But miss, I
’
m going to a party tonight!
”

“
Well, you will just have to go to the party after eight o
’
clock then
won
’
t you Miss Watkinson? Now get back to your class and I shall look
forward to seeing you at half past three.
”

I left that office in a state of shock. Was it legal for teachers to keep
you back at school until eight o
’
clock at night? That
’
s not an hour or an
hour and a half, that
’
s bloody ages! I went back to Miss Caldicott
’
s class
in a stunned silence and didn
’
t catch another word she said as the only
thing that went around and around in my head was how I was going
to get to Joey Birch
’
s party. I had made arrangements to meet Amy, at
seven, at her house and her older brother, Martin, was going to give us
a lift to Halsall, for four quid! How was I going to get there now? Vomit
Breath couldn
’
t give me a lift as she didn
’
t have a car and even if she
had, it would have been useless because she was never sober enough to
drive nor kindhearted enough to do me a favour. I don
’
t even know if
she could drive! At break, I spoke to Amy about my dilemma.

“
So CC has given you detention until eight o
’
bloody clock?
”