Page 38 of Am I Allergic to Men?
‘It was a very aggressive type of malaria, I was lucky my constitution was strong enough to recover.’
‘Obviously, something you got from being a King Charlie’s girl,’ she states.
Yes, a constitution I developed from having to deal with virulent people like yourself. We continue to take a slow walk through the school. The air. The air hasn’t changed: this heavy air of expectation in its foundations. We wind around the corners past the school gyms until she heads out to where the old sports blocks used to be. I scan my eyes up its super-white walls and light wood exterior. Sod’s law that I would leave and they finally realised the worth of the arts, how drama ignited something in some of us.
‘Come in and have a look… we are running some workshops over the summer and sports camps over on the astro pitch so there are some children around.’
We walk in and I’m immediately drawn to the high ceiling, knocking my head back. It doesn’t look like the old room. The old room smelt like face paint and feet but I think Mrs Willett wants us to fake some admiration and surprise. I’m not so easily impressed. Inside, a group of girls are in a white T-shirts and leggings working on some sort of warm-up and I smile to see their bare feet, to feel the vibrations as they stamp across the floor. Their teacher comes over to introduce herself, her face completely unfamiliar to me.
‘Mrs Willett. Is everything OK?’
‘Oh, I was just giving a tour to these ex-alumni. Both doctors.’
The teacher smiles but studies my face closely. ‘Lucy?’
‘No, her name is Victoria.’
Her eyes bounce towards Emma and I.
‘No, this is Lucy Callaghan.’ She turns to me. ‘I was three years younger than you but you were here. You were a legend. You were the reason I went into drama. I saw a performance with you inAs You Like Itand you were breathtaking. Your last monologue was a masterclass. You had sisters, lots of sisters, right? I’m Maisie Henderson.’
If Emma wasn’t sweating before, she now looks like she’s run a marathon, a panicked look in her eyes like we need to escape and evade capture.You can’t run, you’re an invalid. I’ll have to carry you.On my back.Mrs Willett stops in her tracks and looks me straight in the eye.Yes, it is I. Where’s your ruler now, bitch?
‘Callaghan!’ she says in a slightly sinisterScooby-Doovillain voice. ‘You lied!’
‘Kind of but mostly out of fear,’ Emma tells her, putting her body in between mine and hers to try and defend me in some way. ‘And she didn’t lie. I am a surgeon.’
‘I will expect that your sister is not though,’ Mrs Willett replies, her tone sarcastic and bitter.
‘She’s an actress. A bloody fine one too,’ Emma retorts. The girls in the middle of the room stop to take in the minor drama.
‘I feel very uncomfortable that you tried to dupe me into giving you a tour. I think you need to leave my school…’
‘I’m sorry… this is my fault,’ Miss Henderson says, trying to interject.
‘No, it’s ours. We did lie and I’m sorry… we will leave,’ Emma says, trying to pull me away.
‘Just a quick question though before we do…’ Emma’s fingers literally tense into wire in my hand.Not now Lucy. Not when you’re literally wearing pyjamas.But old habits die hard.
‘It’s notyourschool. You never realised that, did you? It belonged to us, it belonged to all these girls.’
Mrs Willett glares at me, like she’s getting all her ammunition ready.
‘You’re saying I should have let the likes of you run riot in this place?’
‘The likes ofme? I think that would have been a fine idea. Why did you hate us Callaghans so much? Myself and my sisters?’
‘I am not sure where you got that impression… Lucy… Callaghan…’ she says, accentuating my name. And just like that, it’s clear that I am still on this woman’s radar, she still knows the name, she still knows to fear it. That is bloody excellent.
‘Was it because my mum called you an amateur? Did that sting?’
Mrs Willett’s eyes widen at the thought and Miss Henderson has to take a step back to bite her lip.
‘It’s a shame you decided to hold a grudge like some bitter old cod because we’re bloody awesome. I wish you’d got to know us rather than thinking we were the problem.’
Emma coughs, actually she looks like she might throw up on the spot from the confrontation.
‘But you were. You were one of the most forthright and defiant young ladies we ever had in this school. You questioned everything we put in front of you,’ Mrs Willett continues. I smile wryly, pleased I left a mark.
