First class was home economics. Cookery! I might as well have stayed home, thought Katie. She had no white coat, but she tied her hair back.
There were nineteen other girls and four boys in the class. The large, tiled, home economics room was set up with six cookers and six sinks, large work tables and stacks of cookery equipment.
Everybody had a partner already, so she was on her own. But she knew she was a better cook than the lot of them put together. Mrs Kelly began to write recipes for basic brown bread and pancakes on the blackboard. The rest of the class were busy taking down the recipes.
‘Miss Connors, I suggest you write down the recipe like the others as you’ll need the ingredients next week. Today I will demonstrate,’ Miss Kelly told her.
Katie took up her pad and jotted them down reluctantly. When the teacher was busy showing them step-by-step what to do, Katie found herself day-dreaming.
A boy from fifth year stuck his head in the door. ‘Mrs Quinlan wants to see Kathleen Connors in her office.’ Having delivered the message, he disappeared straight away.
Every head turned to look at Katie. What had she done now? Gathering up her books she got off the stool and headed straight for the Principal’s office.
Mrs Quinlan was sitting at her desk reading a book and drinking a cup of coffee.
‘Come in, come in and sit down, Katie.’
Katie was wary.
‘I just wanted to find out why you stayed out an extra week over the suspension period.’
Katie just shrugged. Family problems were not any of this woman’s business.
‘I’m not poking my nose in, Katie, I do care and I am concerned about you …’ she trailed off.
‘My Mam was sick and had to go to hospital. I had to mind the rest of them,’ she stated.
The Principal put down her book. ‘It’s important not to miss school. Pupils who are absent for whatever reason tend to fall behind. They end up putting a lot of pressure on themselves and, let’s face it, there are enough pressures on you without loading on more.’
‘I’m sorry, but Mam needed me.’
Mrs Quinlan just nodded. ‘Now you’re back I hope you will settle back to the school routine. You know I’m here if you need me.’ Katie sensed that the woman was sincere. She guided Katie to the door.
‘Now back to class!’
Katie looked at the clock, there were about fifteen minutes of home economics left. She went the long way round to the classroom, ambling along, taking her time. It was unusual not to have everyone else bashing into her. She was about to pass an open door when she spotted a few of the boys from her class engrossed in work inside.
It was the woodwork room, and she could hear the whirr of a saw. She stood watching for a few minutes. The teacher was going from bench to bench, and a scatter of woodshavings littered the floor. They were all so absorbed, no one seemed to notice her.
Totally out of impulse she turned back the way she had come and soon found herself outside the Principal’s door again.
‘Come in!’ Mrs Quinlan called. ‘Did you forget something, Kathleen?’
‘No, it’ s not that, Mrs Quinlan. I was wondering, can I change subjects?’
‘When?’
‘Today. Now!’ she blurted out.
‘But you have home economics now. I really don’t think it would be possible for you to join the French class at this late stage. Some of the students have done two years of French in primary school before coming on here, you’d just be lost.’
‘No, Mrs Quinlan, I’m not interested in French. I want to change to woodwork,’ she pleaded.
The surprised woman took out a file from her drawer. ‘Woodwork, well, it’s not exactly what one expects of a girl. Don’t you think that studying home economics and learning about nutrition and how to budget and plan meals and so on would be far more beneficial to you and your family?’
‘We do some of that in science, Mrs Quinlan. It’s cooking! I like cooking but I get enough of it at home. No, I fancy the woodwork, it looks interesting. That is, if they’ll have me.’
‘Well!’ Mrs Quinlan laughed softly to herself. ‘I suppose there’s no reason to stop you changing. I’ll talk to both teachers at lunchbreak.’
Katie held her head high as she left the Principal’s office. Her eyes were dancing in her head when she flounced into class and got back to her place. They were all mad with curiosity to see if she’d got into more trouble.
* * *
She said nothing, but a week later she headed for the woodwork room instead of the home economics class.
‘Go and sit with your partners,’ Mr McKeown instructed them as they filed into class.
Partners again! Katie couldn’t believe it. She scanned the room. There were only two girls in the group and they were sitting together at the back of the class. One was Brona Dowling. She winked over at Katie.
There was only one boy sitting on his own. His name was Rory. She had heard the others jeer him sometimes and Natalie always said he was a bit simple. Katie went and sat opposite him at the large woodwork desk. There was a little locker full of tools beside her. Everyone else seemed to know what they were doing and a gentle hum of conversation filtered around the room as they started work.
Rory spread a long plank of wood across his side and began to plane it. He whistled as he worked. She hoped the teacher would remember her and come over.
While she waited she looked around the room. It was large and airy and long windows reached to the floor. There were two huge wooden cupboards at the very back, with wooden shapes stacked on top of them. Diagrams were sketched out on the blackboard. On one wall hung a poster. Katie went over to look at it. It showed different kinds of trees from all over Ireland. She recognised every one of them. They had camped in woods, forests and meadows, by the sides of roads, in the grounds of big old houses – looking at this poster was like seeing a lot of old friends. Under each tree was a cross-section showing its wood-grain.
‘Interested in wood, are you?’ Katie spun around. Mr McKeown had come up behind her. She nodded.
‘Well, I’m always glad to get more pupils interested in craftwork.’ The teacher looked closely at her.
‘I always loved trees. I used to hide in them when I was little. My Da used to have to send my big brother Tom to search for me. No matter where we were I’d find a tree.’
‘You moved from place to place then?’ He smiled.
‘Yes, sir. I’m a traveller. Life on the road was hard, but, well, it was grand.’
‘Never boring, I’d say. Now, Katie, a simple shape to cut out is a good start. The rules of this room are that no one touches that saw,’ he pointed to a large circular saw fixed in the middle of the room, ‘that is totally off-limits. I’ll show you how to use the small fret-saws – and watch carefully. I don’t want people chopping off fingers, I have no intention of spending my time putting on bandages and plasters.’
Katie had already noticed the large white first-aid box with its red cross in the corner over the sink.
‘First off, I want you to leave your books outside.’ She ran out with the small pile of books.
When Katie went back in he was standing at a noisy machine helping two boys to sharpen some tools. Sparks flew around them. When he’d finished he came back to her. ‘Now, little lady, let’s get you started.’
He arrived over with a rectangular piece of wood ‘Now I want you to square this off.’ He passed her a piece of chalk and a large wooden T-square and left her to it. She couldn’t decide what size square to make and had to keep rubbing out the chalk with spittle.
‘Do it fairly big, it’s much easier,’ Rory advised her across the desk they shared. ‘We did them and then when they were sanded and polished we put our initial on them. Painted it on. It’s only an exercise. Next week or so you’ll make a rabbit.’
‘What are you making?’
‘It’s a tray, a wooden tray for my mother. Later on I’m going to make a toybox for my brother Richard and if I’m able, a kind of doll’s house for my two sisters. That’ll be all the Christmas presents taken care of.’
Katie stared at him. This boy was very different from the Rory who stumbled around the school and whom the teachers gave out to constantly for not doing his work. He must have read her mind because he blushed. ‘Woodwork’s my best subject.’
Katie settled herself and soon became engrossed. She drew a ‘K’ on the wood too which helped dictate the size. Mr McKeown showed her how to use the small fret-saw. It was pretty difficult and the lines were jagged when she’d finished.
‘Now, sandpaper all the edges until they’re smooth.’
She loved the smell in this room. The scent of woodshavings and glue blended with the sweet smell of different sorts of timber. She just couldn’t believe it when the teacher told them to tidy up as the bell would go in ten minutes. Katie was given one of the brushes and swept one half of the room. All the sawdust and shavings were put in a big bin. Then each of them had to make sure that every tool listed inside the door of the workbench lockers had been put back. As she walked out of class and Mr McKeown locked the door after them she knew she could hardly wait until Thursday and their next lesson.