Page 7 of The One Plus One
She shook their hands and smiled back. Tanzie should have shaken their hands, but all she could hear were the words ‘head of maths’. She looked up from her biscuit.
‘Do you do chords?’
‘We do.’
‘And probability?’
‘That too.’
Mr Cruikshank leant forward. ‘We’ve been looking at your test results. And we think, Costanza, that you should sit your GCSE in maths next year and get it out of the way. Because I think you’d rather enjoy the A-level problems.’
She looked at him. ‘Have you got actual papers?’
‘I’ve got some next door. Would you like to see them?’
She couldn’t believe he was asking. She thought briefly of saying, ‘Well, DUH’, like Nicky did. But she just nodded.
Mr Daly handed Mum a coffee. ‘I won’t beat around the bush, Mrs Thomas. You are well aware that your daughter has an exceptional ability. We have only seen scores like hers once before and that was from a pupil who went on to be a fellow at Trinity.’
Tanzie nodded, although she was pretty sure she didn’t want to be a fellow. Everyone knew girls were better at maths.
He went on and on then. She tuned out a bit because she was trying to see how many biscuits she could eat so what she heard was ‘…for a very select group of pupils who have a demonstrably unusual ability wehave created a new equal-access scholarship.’ Blah, blah, blah. ‘It would offer a child who might not otherwise get the advantages of a school like this the chance to fulfil their potential in…’ Blah, blah. ‘While we are very keen to see how far Costanza could go in the field of maths, we would also want to make sure that she was well rounded in other parts of her student life. We have a full sporting and musical curriculum.’ Blah, blah, blah…‘Numerate children are often also able in languages…’ blah, blah ‘…and drama – that’s often very popular with girls of her age.’
‘I only really like maths,’ she told him. ‘And dogs.’
‘Well, we don’t have much in the way of dogs, but we’d certainly offer you lots of opportunities to stretch yourself mathematically. But I think you might be surprised by what else you enjoy. Do you play any instruments?’
She shook her head.
‘Any languages?’
The room went a bit quiet.
‘Other interests?’
‘We go swimming on Fridays,’ Mum said.
‘We haven’t been swimming since Dad left.’
Mum smiled, but it went a bit wonky. ‘We have, Tanzie.’
‘Once. May the thirteenth. But now you work on Fridays.’
Her smile went really strange then, like she couldn’t hold the corners of her mouth up properly.
Mr Cruikshank left the room, and reappeared amoment later with his papers. She stuffed the last of the biscuit into her mouth, then got up and went to sit next to him. He had a whole pile of them. Stuff she hadn’t even started yet!
She began going through them with him, showing him what she had done and what she hadn’t, and in the background she could hear Mum and the headmaster’s voices rumbling away. ‘We’re very conscious of the pitfalls, psychological and otherwise, that can occur if children are only encouraged to go in one direction…blah, blah, blah…If Costanza comes to us, while we would consider her mathematical ability an asset, her pastoral care would be…’
It sounded like it was going all right. Tanzie let her attention travel to what was on the page. It might have been renewal theory. ‘Yes,’ Mr Cruikshank was saying quietly, his finger on the page. ‘But the curious feature of renewal processes is that, if we wait some predetermined time and then observe how large the renewal interval containing it is, we should expect it to be typically larger than a renewal interval of average size.’
She knew about this! ‘So the monkeys would take longer to typeMacbeth?’ she said.
‘That’s it.’ He smiled. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d have covered any renewal theory.’
‘I haven’t, really. But Mr Tsvangarai told me about it once and I looked it up on the Internet. I liked the whole monkey thing.’ She flicked through the papers. There was tons of it. The numbers sang to her. She could feel her brain sort of humming she wanted to read them somuch. She knew she had to go to this school. ‘Mum,’ she said. She didn’t usually interrupt, but she was too excited and forgot her manners. ‘Do you think we could get some of these papers?’
Mr Daly looked over. He didn’t seem to mind about the missing manners. ‘Mr Cruikshank, have we any spares?’
