Leon and Charlie had been good to Spencer right from the word go.
‘Are you the new kid?’ Leon said to him as they went into the classroom at Great Southern Primary.
‘Yep,’ Spencer said, bracing himself.
‘Oh, cool. I’m Leon. Charlie!’ he called, punching another kid on the arm, making his crazy curls bounce. ‘This is the new kid.’
Charlie grinned. ‘Hi. You’ve met Leon, then.’
‘Yeah,’ Spencer laughed. ‘I’m Spencer.’
‘Charlie.’
‘So ... what’s the teacher like?’
‘Ms Hutchenson?’ Leon screwed up his nose. ‘Aah, she’s all right. Better than Oggers last year.’
‘Oggers?’
‘Mr Ogden,’ Charlie explained. ‘Leon and he ... well, they didn’t get along so well, put it that way.’
Spencer laughed, and sat down at a desk. He wasn’t sure that the kids at his old school—including him—would have been so friendly to a new kid so fast. He was grateful, and felt his heart slow down a bit as he settled in for the day.
At dinner that first night, Mum reached to the end of the table for something long and thin, and settled for one of Pippa’s paintbrushes.
‘I don’t want to do the talking stick,’ Pippa moaned.
‘I’ll start,’ said Mum, holding the paintbrush upright.
‘I’ve already told you about my day, in the car,’ Pippa grumbled.
‘Shh! Don’t forget: she who holds the talking stick commands total silence from the flock!’
Spencer rolled his eyes. ‘Mum...’
‘Come on, guys, can we just get on with it?’ said Dad.
‘Right,’ Mum said, clearing her throat. ‘Today. Today was my first day here at our new house in Skippers Cove without any of you.’
‘A-ha,’ Dad nodded.
‘Shh!’ Pippa hissed.
‘I unpacked a lot of boxes, and thought about each of you a lot. I wondered how Spence and Pips were going in their new classes, and I thought about what it would be like for Dad getting used to new staff, new patients, and all of that. I went for a walk around our neighbouring streets and noticed that there are a lot of hills here. A lot of hills. It hurt my thighs. Should be good for our fitness! So be careful on your bikes, kids.’
Spencer nodded.
‘Finished?’ Dad said.
‘Yep. Who’s next?’
‘I’ll go next,’ said Spencer, reaching for the paintbrush and tucking it behind his ear like it was a pencil. ‘Today was actually ... okay. My teacher is Ms Hutchenson and she seems not too bad. I met a couple of kids, Leon and Charlie. Leon’s kind of cheeky—nice cheeky—and quick, and Charlie has this crazy white curly hair. I saw Pippa at lunch—how were you, Pips?’ he asked, passing her the stick.
‘As I told Mum in the car on the way home, my teacher seems nice. Mr Wharton. He’s quite funny. But there’s mainly boys in my year, and only a few girls. I didn’t really ... make any friends or anything.’
‘Yet,’ Dad said.
The others nodded.
‘Umm. I don’t have anything else to say. Your turn, Dad.’
Dad took the paintbrush. ‘I guess it’s harder for small schools to have an equal number of boys and girls—if they’ve only got one class of Year 5 kids they’ve got to bung them all in and hope for the best.’
‘Well it’s not fair,’ Pippa said. ‘At home it was always fifty-fifty.’
Mum reached over and gave her a squeeze. ‘It’ll get better, my love. This is just the first day, that’s all.’
‘Do you mind?’ interrupted Dad. ‘Am I not holding the sacred stick?’
‘Sorry,’ smiled Mum. ‘It’s your turn.’
‘Merci. Now. Where do I begin?’
‘D-a-a-d,’ said Spencer, propping up his forehead with his fingers. ‘Can you hurry this up?’
‘Aaah, yes, at the beginning, that’s right.’ He looked at Spencer. ‘No: at the very beginning.’