We’ll all walk together to school, Mum, Gerald says, jumping off the porch steps onto the ground below. He loves imitating the way Beatrix talks. She sounds so smart all the time. So he calls Mother Mum, enters the room saying cheerio, and last night at dinner he claimed Father was making a bit of a kerfuffle over nothing. He knows it annoys William—another good reason to do it—but it also brings a shadow of a smile to Beatrix’s face. Don’t you cross the street until she’s inside, Mother says again, and William nods, then gestures at Bea with his chin. So like Father, William is, that’s what they all say. Gerald knows that means he’s not.
The three of them walk along the path that cuts through the field behind the school. A desire line, Father calls it. Their very best way of getting from here to there. William is in front, leading the way, and Gerald takes up the rear. The hair that had reached both of their collars is gone now, a visit to the barber the day before revealing pink, scratchy necks and glistening scalps. Gerald likes running his hand over the bristles. The sun is already warm. None of the leaves have begun to turn, and the field is an explosion of wildflowers. Gerald snaps a yellow flower off and then another and then a third, holding the flowers behind his back. At the door to the Lower School, they all stop, standing in a circle. Gerald gives Beatrix a quick hug around the waist. How thin she is. He can feel her ribs. Top of the morning to ya, he says, grinning, and he shoves the bouquet into her hands before he disappears through the heavy door. Idiot, Gerald hears William say. When he’s sure they’ve continued on their way, he steps back out the door. He sees them stop by the Girls School, both looking at the ground, and then Beatrix enters the building, his flowers still clutched in her hand. Gerald watches William cross the street toward the Boys School. Once on the other side, right before he enters the building, William turns back just slightly, and Gerald knows he’s checking to make sure that she made it inside. Gerald waves at him but William turns and walks inside.
Each student in Gerald’s class is asked to write a letter to the teacher detailing the most exciting thing that happened to them over the summer. Dear Mr. Thatcher, Gerald writes, Beatrix joined us from London to escape the bombs. When he puts his pencil down, he notices that his palms are stained yellow from the pollen.