The snow fell and fell all over the weekend and the following few days. Schools were closed and Toft’s Hill became a ski slope. Mum couldn’t get to work and Lizzie couldn’t get to college. I didn’t mind. It was fun being at home as a family for once and it meant I could have a proper discussion with Mum and Dad about the Parrs.
“Does this mean I don’t have to pretend your dad’s the world’s keenest angler any more?” Mum asked.
“Yes,” I said. “In front of Eve, anyway.”
She stroked my head. “I’m glad you told her. That’s a big step forward.”
“I’m glad I told her, too.”
Dad gave my Coaches’ Player of the Season award a final polish. “There,” he said. “You can put it on your windowsill instead of that stupid telescope.”
“I can put it next to the stupid telescope,” I replied. I wasn’t ready to let go of my lookout post just yet.
By Thursday the weather had eased. Temperatures rose, and while the fields and hills behind us remained wedding-cake white, the snow on roads and pavements had turned into that yucky sludge. Everything began moving again and we were told at school on Friday that the entrance exam would go ahead as planned.
I woke up on Saturday morning feeling much calmer than I’d expected. I even managed two warm croissants with apricot jam for breakfast. Afterwards, while I was upstairs brushing my teeth, Lizzie pressed her lucky keyring into my hand. “Pongy got me through my exams; he’ll get you through yours,” she told me.
I stared at the tiny koala bear in my palm and felt a little overwhelmed. For Lizzie to think my exam was as big as hers was mega. “Thanks, Lizzie,” I said, trying not to drip toothpaste foam on him. “He’s cute.”
“Any time, sis,” she said, pulling on her thick winter jacket as she prepared to catch the bus into town. Mum and Dad were both coming with me to St Agatha’s, so she had to make her own way to Hurst’s. “Hang on to him as long as you like.”
“Cheers,” I told her.
Downstairs, Mum and Dad were both pacing.
“All set?” Mum asked.
“All set,” I said.
They didn’t talk a lot during the journey. I think they were more nervous than I was.
“I wish I hadn’t given up smoking for New Year,” Mum muttered as we approached the grounds.
“Same here. What is this? Strangeways?” Dad said, eyeing the high wall that surrounded the school.
I smiled, remembering Jenny-Jane’s indignant face when she’d asked why I wanted to go to St Agatha’s. Well, this was why. Not the weird blazer or the grades or the facilities but the solid stone wall surrounding it. It was protection.
Amy and her mum, Debbie, were waiting in the car park. Mum, Debbie and Dad pecked each other on the cheek and Amy grabbed my arm. “I am so glad you’re here. There are way too many Hermione Granger types around,” she declared, scowling at a girl whose dark curly hair bounced as she walked.
“You’ll be amazing,” I told her. “I know you will.”
Debbie squeezed my shoulder. “Thank you, sweetie. That’s what I’ve been telling her all morning, but she’s got the collywobbles.”
“Really?” I stared at Amy in disbelief. She did look pale.
“I’d rather be playing Lutton Ash,” she confessed.
“See what I mean?” Debbie asked. “She’s that bad.”
“Come on,” I said, linking arms with my closest friend and looking after her for once. “This is going to be a breeze.”
Together, we marched in through the main entrance of St Agatha’s school, and three hours later, we marched out again, bumping shoulders with the other hundred or so girls who’d taken the exam. Amy’s collywobbles had disappeared. I knew because she did nothing but complain. “Not one question on compound words,” she chuntered as we skipped down the steps. “Not one.”
“Never mind. I bet you’ll still have passed, even without them.”
“‘With-out.’ Compound word.”
“Foot-ball. Another one. I wonder what the score was.”
She rolled her eyes. “Give it a rest, Hurst.”
Across the grounds I could see Dad straining his neck to pick us out in the crowd.
“I can’t.” I grinned. “It’s in the blood.”