Off to Work I Go

‘It’s important to find a book that inspires you.’ Mr Hendrix was pacing back and forth in front of his English Literature class, enthusiastically gesturing with his hands. ‘You need to find a book that speaks to you.’

Tilly was sat at the back of the room, wedged between Donna Thompson and James Henderson. She was doing her best to focus on what Mr Hendrix was saying but her gaze kept drifting to the large window spread across the entire classroom wall. Tiny droplets of rain were splashing against it as outside it grew so dark that the school’s interior lights had to be turned on.

It had been over three weeks since her night spent on the carousel. Three weeks since the ground had collapsed and left her free falling into oblivion. At school it was surprisingly easy to pretend that everything was OK. When Tilly put her head down in class, people assumed she was focused on her work. When she drifted around on her own during break times it wasn’t viewed as out of the ordinary. To the outside world, Tilly was just a lonely student trying to survive.

It was less easy to pretend when Tilly was at home. Her house felt like it was made of glass and liable to shatter at any given moment if someone were to say the wrong thing. Monica and Maria had started to go out more. They’d catch buses to the town centre and creep in after dark. Their dad didn’t seem to have the energy to punish them. Whenever he wasn’t working he sat alone in the front room nursing a large glass of whiskey while his wife slept upstairs. Lately, all Tilly’s mother seemed to do was sleep – that and go to hospital. Now that Tilly knew what was going on she was privy to all sorts of information.

‘You’ll have to let yourself in after school,’ her dad had told her over breakfast. ‘Your sisters will be out God knows where and I need to take your mum to the hospital. Do you have a key?’

‘Yes,’ Tilly nodded.

‘Good.’ Her dad cleared his throat and turned the page of his newspaper even though he wasn’t reading it.

‘I’ll leave you some leftover lasagne in the fridge. Will you be OK to heat it in the microwave?’

There was more nodding on Tilly’s part. This was becoming a familiar part of the routine – cooking and eating dinner alone. Tilly had quickly learnt how to use the microwave, something she’d previously thought she was years away from doing.

It would be dark by the time her parents returned, her mother so exhausted that she’d head straight up to bed. Whatever they were doing to her at the hospital only seemed to be making her worse.

‘Your homework for tonight is to find something great to read, bring it in tomorrow, and talk about what drew you to it.’ Mr Hendrix had his back to the class as he wrote their assignment on the white board.

Tilly reluctantly jotted down the task in her planner. Homework seemed pointless, as did school. She was trying to participate, to do well, just to make her mother happy but her sense of apathy was increasing.

‘I’m going to bring in Little Women,’ Donna whispered to Tilly. It was an attempt at forging a tentative friendship between the two of them, but Tilly was too distracted to realise. She just nodded absently.

‘Cool.’

‘I’m going to bring in Lord of the Flies,’ James told the girls before adding boastfully, ‘I read it while I was in junior school. What book are you going to bring in, Tilly?’

‘I don’t know.’ The bell was ringing and Tilly was already standing up and shouldering her backpack. There was little she knew anymore. She felt like Alice after she’d tumbled down the rabbit hole. She was in a world where everything was topsy-turvy – where parents could die and children had to make their own dinners.

Tilly opened her lunch box to find that she was yet again without a sandwich. Instead, there was a packet of crisps and two chocolate bars. Disappointment pulled her towards the polished floor of the food hall like an anchor.

‘Hey, squirt.’

Her spirits lifted as Monica slid in across the table. Her dark hair was pulled into a long ponytail and her usual eyeliner was matched with a deep shade of purple lipstick.

‘Hey.’ Tilly pushed her lunchbox towards her sister. ‘Dad forgot to make me a sandwich again.’

‘Really?’ Monica scrunched up her face in annoyance. ‘Remind me tomorrow and I’ll rustle something up for you.’

‘Are you and Maria going to be home late again?’

‘Probably,’ Monica shrugged. ‘We’re meeting some people in the park after school.’

‘To do what?’

‘Never you mind.’

Tilly leaned forward to retrieve her lunchbox.

‘Look, I know things suck at the moment,’ Monica said, titling her head. ‘And maybe Maria and I should be there more. It’s just …’ Her voice trailed off as a group of top year boys walked past. One of them let his gaze linger on Monica for a little too long.

‘Can’t you come home a little bit earlier?’ Tilly pleaded. ‘I feel like I’m … alone all the time.’

‘Sure.’ Monica pulled her purple lips into a kind smile. ‘I’ll come home earlier in the future, OK?’

Tilly nodded as she opened her packet of crisps.

‘Things will get better, Tilly.’ Monica reached across the table to give her hand a brief squeeze.

‘Will they?’ Tilly countered. ‘Because I kind of feel things are just going to get worse.’

After lunch came the dreaded double P.E session. Icy trepidation settled in Tilly’s stomach as she made her way to the girls’ changing rooms. When she walked in, the room was already alive with the incessant chatter of gossip. It smelt of stale sweat and old perfume, which made for an unpleasant combination.

Tilly quietly made her way to the back of the room as she always did and placed her backpack on a hook and found an empty locker.

Though the rain had let up it was still crisp outside. Tilly shivered beneath the thin fabric of her regulation green jogging bottoms. Her teacher was loudly drilling the class about how they’d be running laps around the playing field. In her fleece coat, it must be easy to consider spending the last few hours of the school day in that way. But Tilly, already shaking like a leaf, couldn’t think of anything worse. She had hoped the rain would force their class indoors. Maybe they’d play softball or work the gymnastics equipment. Instead, they’d be running around in the cold for two hours.

‘She couldn’t have picked a better day for it,’ Kate mumbled angrily to her minions who were stood beside her, shivering like Tilly was.

‘I want at least six laps from everyone!’ the teacher declared. Tilly would more willingly donate blood than run round the damp field half a dozen times but she had no choice. With a blow of a whistle, the girls were called to action. The more eager members of the class sprinted ahead, not caring how slippery the grass was. They were just desperate to show off their athletic prowess.

Tilly jogged along with the stragglers at the back. She didn’t care if she hit the required six laps or not – she just wanted the time to pass as quickly as possible so she could get back in the warmth.

Even Kate, Sophie, and Claire hung near the back out of a desire not to exert themselves. Tilly had previously overheard Kate in the changing rooms insisting that only losers sweat.

The dark clouds hanging above the field threatened to release more rain. Tilly quietly began to jog around the edge of the playing field and water splashed up the back of her legs from the damp grass. She tried to just focus on what she was doing but without any mental stimulus, her mind started to wander.

She was no longer in her school playing field but out on the open plains of her kingdom. A fierce wind whipped through her hair, carrying with it the promise of an imminent storm. People around her were hurriedly running towards the town to find shelter. Tilly could see it looming on the horizon. Swirling dark clouds gathered together as lightning sparked inside them. When the storm arrived, it would be strong enough to make the strongest buildings shake.

Tilly became afraid. She didn’t want to be out in the open when those clouds tumbled in. Some of the villagers noticed she was there and began shouting at her to seek shelter.

‘A storm is coming, your Highness!’ they cried fearfully. ‘You must get back inside!’

More wind tugged at Tilly’s long hair. The skirt she was wearing began to billow around her.

‘Please, your Majesty,’ someone else pleaded, ‘you must get back to the tower.’

Tilly nodded, grateful for their concern. She turned and began running, powering her legs beneath her as she broke into a sprint. Distantly, she heard people shouting her name but she kept running and didn’t stop until she was safe inside, away from the imminent fury of the storm.

Gasping, Tilly rested her hands on her knees and lowered her head, breathing heavily. Blood pumped furiously in her ears, sounding like distant war drums heralding the start of something awful.

Eventually she straightened and looked around. Gone was the elegant dress she was wearing. Instead, she was in green jogging bottoms and a white polo shirt. Tilly was back in the changing rooms, which were worryingly empty. Where was everyone else?

‘Matilda Johnson!’ Her P.E teacher pushed open the doors from outside and powered into the room. ‘Young lady, what on earth do you think you are doing?’ The robust woman pointed her clipboard in Tilly’s direction.

‘I …’ Tilly gazed helplessly at her teacher. How could she explain that she had been caught up in one of her daydreams without looking mad?

‘I’ve no choice but to give you a detention.’ The teacher was forcefully uncapping a pen, her hard gaze remaining on Tilly who was once again shivering.

‘I didn’t mean to run off,’ Tilly admitted.

‘Yeah, well, you can think about that in detention.’

Deflated, Tilly handed over her school planner so the detention could be noted down. To add to her humiliation, the rest of her class had started to filter back in as it was almost home time. Tilly tried to ignore their stares and whispered comments.

‘You really need to get yourself together,’ Tilly’s teacher advised as she handed her back her planner. ‘You’re not in junior school anymore, Matilda. It’s time you grew up.’

That was it. Tilly felt something snap inside her. She threw down her school planner and grabbed her backpack from its nearby hook. She stormed past her teacher and no amount of shouting made her turn back. Still in her joggers and polo shirt, she walked out of the changing rooms, across the tarmacked yard, and out of the main school gates. She didn’t stop walking until she was unlocking her front door and stepping into her house.

Monica didn’t make good on her word to come home early. Tilly was forced to eat her warmed up dinner alone in front of the television and it was dark by the time everyone came back.

Troubled by the day’s events, Tilly did her best to avoid her family. She tucked herself into her lower bunk and put on a DVD. It was a film about a lion cub who thought he’d done something truly awful, so he ran away from his home and everything he knew. Tilly envied his ability to leave. She felt like every part of her life was frayed at the edges.

Eventually, the cub grew up and went back to reclaim what was his but even the light-hearted songs couldn’t draw Tilly out of her bad mood. She turned the film off before it finished. She was tired of hearing the message about how important it was to grow up. Why did it matter so much? Blinking away tears, she began to climb to her top bunk, needing the comfort of her tower.

What was so bad about remaining young? Tilly wasn’t trying to hurt anyone by trying to exist within her imagination yet everyone got mad at her when she did.

Tilly was lying in bed when her bedroom door flew open, letting in a square of yellow light.

‘Oh my god, squirt!’ Maria came bouncing into the room. She smelt faintly of cigarettes underneath the powerful mint scent which coated her words. ‘I heard what you did in P.E!’

Tilly rolled over to face her sister.

‘You heard?’

‘The whole school heard!’ Maria enthused, her eyes wide. ‘You little rebel! I’ve never been more proud!’

‘Hey, leave her alone.’ Monica came in and looked at Tilly. ‘What happened today?’ There was a kindness in her voice which plucked Tilly’s heartstrings in a painful way. She sounded like their mother. Tilly wasn’t ready for Monica to replace their mother.

‘Go away,’ she told her sister.

‘Tilly, you’re a certified bad ass!’ Maria declared.

‘Seriously?’ Monica spun around to give her sibling a look. ‘You’re not helping, Maria.’

‘Whatever,’ Maria shrugged. ‘You should be pleased. After all, now Tilly gets to join the lost cause tribe.’

‘I’m not a lost cause!’ Tilly objected.

‘Sure you’re not,’ Maria laughed. ‘We’re all model students in this house, aren’t we?’ She nudged Monica in the ribs.

‘Out.’ Monica pointed at the door and with a reluctant sigh, Maria left.

‘Tilly, what were you playing at today? You could get in serious trouble.’

Tilly pouted and avoided her sister’s gaze.

‘Like, are you lashing out because you’re angry about Mum?’

‘What? No!’

‘Then what is it?’

Tilly opened her mouth to speak then snapped it shut. There was no way to explain what had happened in a way that would make her sister understand. It was better for everyone to just think that Tilly was acting out.

‘I thought so.’ Monica gripped the ladder of the bunk bed so she could lift herself up a few inches and look directly at Tilly.

‘We won’t tell Mum and Dad,’ she offered. ‘But you need to sort this out. You can’t keep flipping out at school.’

‘I didn’t –’ Tilly wanted to defend her honour but her rebuttal died on her lips.

‘I think we’re all unravelling one way or another,’ Monica said quietly. ‘And that’s OK. Just make sure that no matter how much you fall apart, you’re able to pull yourself back together in the end.’

She dropped to the ground and paused, keeping her eyes focused on her sister.

‘You can go,’ Tilly told her.

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘No,’ Tilly admitted. ‘Are you?’

Monica gave a bitter laugh. ‘No. I don’t think any of us are.’

And with that she left, closing the door behind her.

That morning when Tilly woke, she felt a brick wall of worries tumble against her, flattening her completely and preventing her from getting up.

In that peaceful moment between dreams and waking Tilly was content. The visions which had danced in her mind still lingered and she took comfort in them. But as the fog of sleep was pushed away by the light filtering in beneath her curtains, Tilly was brought back to reality and reminded of everything that was wrong.

Her mother was sick and everyone at school thought she was crazy. These problems wrapped around her lungs and tried to prevent her from breathing. Tilly knew what awaited her when she got out of bed: she’d be eating breakfast alone as her father struggled to stay awake in the kitchen where he was consuming worrying amounts of coffee.

After walking to school she’d have to face her classmates. Everyone would be talking about what she’d done in P.E, pointing and whispering. Tilly’s cheeks already burned at the thought of it. If only she could Skype with Josephine before school, but she knew that was impossible. There just wasn’t time. Dragging herself out of bed, Tilly put on her bravest face, counting how many hours it would be until she could escape to her tower.

Tilly had managed to hold her head high as she walked to school despite the incessant whispers which dogged her every step.

‘Sticks and stones,’ her mother would say. Words couldn’t cause physical damage but if you could open someone up and see the wounds on their soul, Tilly was confident they’d be deeper than anything a stick or stone could inflict.

‘Oh look, it’s Dullerton’s newest badass.’ Kate smirked as Tilly sat down for registration. ‘And here was me thinking you were boring.’

Tilly dropped her backpack underneath her desk and rested her head in her hands. She was in no mood to be teased by Kate.

‘You just threw your planner down like you didn’t care and stormed out!’ Kate continued. ‘You impressed me, Tilly.’

Tilly turned her head. Kate normally called her Matilda. Did the use of her nickname mean they were now friends?

‘Hey, can you go and check if Daniel is here yet?’ Kate turned to face her friends on her other side.

‘He’s always late.’ Sophie rolled her eyes and frowned.

‘Yeah,’ Kate agreed with false perkiness. ‘But why don’t you check for me, OK?’

‘Stalk your crushes yourself,’ Sophie muttered, but she still got up with Claire and slunk out of the classroom. There was still five minutes before the final morning bell would ring and Miss Havishorn had yet to materialise.

Kate spun around to face Tilly, her bright blonde hair sweeping across her shoulders. ‘My dad told me about your mum.’

Tilly flinched. She had anticipated that people would be keen to talk about her antics in P.E, but not about her mother. That was too raw to be up for discussion.

‘It sucks, truly,’ Kate offered with kindness. ‘My mum died when I was six. Car wreck. I’ve got a step-monster now.’

Tilly was speechless. She could only gape at Kate in astonishment.

‘I know, right?’ Kate shrugged. ‘But yeah, I wasn’t born a bitch. This messed up world turned me into one. No one else knows,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘I’d like to keep it that way. So, yeah, if you ever want to talk or just have someone there when you curl up into a ball and cry so hard you’re worried you’ve broken all your insides, I’m not all bad, you know.’

Tilly couldn’t speak.

‘I’m not suggesting we become best friends,’ Kate insisted. ‘You just don’t need to be alone, that’s all. Losing your mum is one hell of a kick in the teeth.’

‘I’ve not lost her yet.’ Tilly coughed as Sophie and Claire sauntered back, hot on the heels of Daniel West, who completely blanked Kate as he walked in.

‘Boys!’ Kate scoffed in annoyance.

Registration was almost over when Miss Havishorn glanced up from behind her desk and looked towards the back of the room.

‘Matilda, can you hang back before your next class, please?’ Although it was delivered as a question, Tilly knew it was an order.

‘Duh duh duh!’ one of the boys at the front of the class remarked, which made those around him giggle.

‘Calm down,’ Miss Havishorn snapped. The bell tolled and everyone was able to leave, except for Tilly who had to shamefully slink to the front of the room.

‘I believe that this is yours.’ Miss Havishorn opened up a drawer and retrieved Tilly’s school planner, which was significantly more dog-eared than it had been at the start of term.

‘Thanks,’ Tilly mumbled as she accepted it.

‘I was not pleased to hear about yesterday’s display, Matilda,’ Miss Havishorn explained, pushing her glasses up her nose.

‘About that –’

‘But you don’t need to worry about the detention. I spoke to Miss Grey.’

The P.E. teacher?

‘What do you mean?’ Tilly asked.

‘There’s no detention,’ Miss Havishorn clarified. ‘I explained to Miss Grey about your … situation.’

Tilly blinked.

‘What situation?’

Miss Havishorn sighed and clamped her plump hands together.

‘Matilda, I know what’s happening with your mother. Your father contacted the school.’

Tilly lowered her head in shame. What was happening at home was separate to her life at school and now the two were bleeding together. Did everyone think that she couldn’t cope? That she needed to grow up?

‘You’re going through a tough time,’ Miss Havishorn continued. ‘It’s only natural that you’ll feel angry and upset. If you feel it would benefit you to visit the school counsellor then I can arrange that, Matilda, just –’

‘Tilly.’ She boldly interrupted her teacher mid-sentence.

‘Sorry?’ Miss Havishorn frowned.

‘My name is Tilly. I don’t like to be called Matilda.’

Miss Havishorn lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

‘Very well, Tilly.’ She said the name as though it were an ill fit. ‘If you would like to see the counsellor, let me know.’

‘Is that it? Can I go now?’ Tilly asked as she looked towards the door.

‘Yes,’ Miss Havishorn nodded. ‘But Matil – Tilly, make sure you don’t lose yourself. These are formative years. I’d hate to see this tragedy shape you in a negative way.’

‘I hardly see how it could shape me positively,’ Tilly snapped as she turned and strode out the door. As she was absorbed into the flow of students hurrying down corridors and hallways, she didn’t allow herself to be pushed and shoved like a feather caught in an updraft. Tilly locked her jaw and used her elbows to force her own path through the sea of jumpers.