Thomas Allan Wehl’s silver tongue has got him out of many tight spots. From age thirteen he has finely tuned his skills in conning bartenders to serve him beers to the point that here he is at age fourteen and seven-twelfths quaffing pints and abetting in the delinquency of pretty minor girls. Can her silver tongue get him out of trouble as fast as it’s getting her in to it?
Thomas Allan Wehl’s silver tongue has got him out of many tight spots. From age thirteen he has finely tuned his skills in conning bartenders to serve him beers to the point that here he is at age fourteen and seven-twelfths quaffing pints and abetting in the delinquency of pretty minor girls. Can her silver tongue get him out of trouble as fast as it’s getting her in to it?
It was my last day of half term and I was bored and wanted to enjoy the sunny early June day in Hessle. I’d done my usual trick of going into the local pub and asking for two pints. The twenty quid note clearly visible to the land lord / bartender on a slow Monday pre-noon lunch splutter. I had my date of birth ready with the year four years prior to the actual one, but as I thought I wasn’t even asked if I was over eighteen. I was likely the first sign of business he’s had, and he probably was the owner desiring to get some money to prime a hopeful lunch rush.
After popping some of the loose coins in the tip jar and sticking the ten spot and two pound coin in my pocket, I took the two beers out to the bar garden, so he’d think the second was for my friend. Yep, as I only shared two long weekends between my Grandma’s in Hessle and my Uncle’s in Elloughton each year, I didn’t have any friends here. I didn’t really have any at home in Helston, or at my boarding school located fairly close to the dead middle of the Yorkshire Moors. In other words, the middle of nowhere.
If you zoomed in on the Yorkshire Moors with likely the highest rez’ zoom of an internet map you’d finally see deer trails with the hamlets Cockayne and Glaisdale. Draw a line between the two. The center of that line, where the map doesn’t even show there to be a dear trail let alone any name for the surrounding area, is more or less where the thirty odd acres of my boarding school is located. Anyway, I was enjoying my last full day of my holiday and planned to drink the beer and hopefully have a great end to my Summer half term.
Seeing nothing happened as I drained the dregs of the second glass I decided to walk to the next pub. See I’d found that it was the second order of two pints that usually didn’t work. That’s no problem in the UK as a few minutes walk and there’s a new pub ready to get its mitts on a twenty quid note. That’s strange too, I mean I’m getting more than thirteen pounds back, but somehow try to pay with four two pound coins a five or even a ten spot and the success rate goes down. I guess they figure only an eighteen-year-old has twenty-pound notes in their wallet.
Perhaps the beer gave me courage, or maybe the girls were bored and wanting to do something before they too return to school tomorrow, but taking a shot to try to pull seemed almost easy. Perhaps some none verbal communication had clued me in sub-consciously that I already had their interest. It likely was all working together for once, and I had rolled a one on my ‘D-100’ saving throw.
“Hey girls you fancy a pint at the lion?” I boldly asked instead of just shyly walking by them both, as they cut out of the lane on my left, turning toward me. The delivery went off without stutter or any sign of being nervous while I pointed behind them up the street a bit where the next pub was. It’s slightly mis-hung sign displayed in faded and gone paint ‘Tne Ped L or ’ with a single lion image in dusty red on a dirty white background, that was likely once bright red on pure white.
The two giggled and looked at each other the brunet’s cheeks gained a slight blush. The blonde though was made of sterner stuff. “Aye, I’m Anne Marie and this’s my friend Melisa. So you’re inviting both of us to the pub? We’ll get kicked out as we’re both fourteen, girl, and the land lord knows me’ Da.”
Well true I was a bit skinny and my near blonde locks brushing my shoulders were close to the max length the school allowed the boys to wear their hair, but I figured perhaps she thought I was eighteen and thus a girl as I was obviously too short, nor carried the bulk, for an eighteen-year-old lad.
“I’m Thomas, a boy.” I added the emphasis because I was nervous and wanted to not be mistaken as a girl. “And I’m fourteen too. Ya’ don’t even have to come inside. I’ll bring the three pints to the garden outside.”
“You really can get beer served from a pub?” Melisa asked nervously. She was a cute brunette, but definitely the wing-lass to Anne Marie’s ace pilot.
“I just finished two pints at the black swan.” I boasted.
“Oh, I can’t do that. My Mum would kill me.” Melisa said, and I thought this was the beginning of when my luck would turn to its usual kind. I concentrated on memorizing their beautiful bodies before they left me alone.
Anne Marie was a willowy blonde with two dimples on her smiling and mischievous face. “Tom boy, you going to get two beers from this pub too then, and bring them outside to us, lass? Melisa you can have a sip of mine, unless she’ll let you share hers.”
Well I hadn’t been shot down, so I took the joke of being referred to as a girl thrice more because she hadn’t shot me down and a little teasing was good to break the ice at the start of a relationship. “Melisa I can get you, your own pint too.” By now we had got to the side beer garden of the pub. It wasn’t as nice as the black swan’s that was a true garden. The lion’s looked like it doubled as overflow parking too, as a stretch of gravel ran up to the two wooden tables that were almost an afterthought beside the fence.
“No, a sip or two is all I want.”
Well that made it easier. I was ordering what I always did so had full confidence it would work. “Tom boy, we’ll save you a seat here then lass.” Anne Marie said jumping up on the table and likely deliberately flashing her knickers beneath her mini skirt before crossing her legs. Seeing me looking, and likely blushing, she winked. “Be careful of the peddler.”
“Peddler?” I asked then saw the pub’s sign with missing letters and laughed at Anne Marie’s joke.
Even with a small lunch crowd inside from the heat, I easily got my two pints from the bar and ensured I didn’t spill any at the two steps before the door that was a bit hard to navigate with the indoor dim lighting change to bright outdoor sunshine. Using my bum to open the door I was heading back. The girls were still there. I must admit, I’d been worried they might have left. Melissa was glancing nervously all over the place, and I was glad I’d left her outside while getting the beers. Crossing the gravel with my own Cheshire cat grin I made to hand one pint to Anne Marie.
“Pop them on the table as if they’re both yours.” She shook her head and I now was thinking could they be working as undercover agents for the police. They both looked fourteen. Melisa could be fifteen maybe, but not eighteen. My paranoid brain though was all ‘this is too good to be true, ergo it isn’t.
After glancing around though Anne Marie picked up the pint and took a draught that let me know she was familiar with drinking. She had to coax her less svelte friend in to drinking. However, after getting her to take the second she then offered mine for drinking too. “Melisa you should take a sip of Tom boys too.”
“Sure Melisa, this is my third, so it is better if we share.” I offered not wanting to appear a skin flint as Anne Marie was sharing hers.
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course, not I’ll share a pint with you any day.” I flirted, and it must have worked as she actually held my hand to steady and control the glass as she daintily sipped several times. Still with her hand over mine holding the glass she pushed the glass toward me.
“Your turn.” Melisa said and as I looked over the glass into her brown eyes taking a deep gulp, I saw the pink lip stick stain on the far side of the glass she’d left on my glass.
“I think I’m jealous. We should take a sip from each other’s glass too.” Anne Marie said twisting her glass then holding her glass out to ward me. She’d uncrossed her legs again and with the slight parting of her legs the black lacey panties were partially visible once more. Needless to say I wasn’t looking at either glass.
As I was initially looking elsewhere than at the glasses, I was just about to take a sip before I realized I had to glance at my glass to ensure I was correctly lining it up to tip it into Anne Marie’s mouth. Her glass on my lips informed me to open my mouth and I was already swallowing before thinking her beer tasted different than mine. Which was odd as I had bought two pints of the same beer. Hers had a slight cherry flavor though.
Even with the three of us sharing both pints I probably drank a good bit more than one of the pints before both glasses being empty. I was happily tipsy where you just have to giggle at everything said.
“You probably should return the glasses to the bar. Mister Hughes hates the glasses being left outside.” Anne Marie told me. The request seemed natural enough that I wondered why I’d never thought to do that before. I did realize that both glasses had multiple pink and red lipstick stains blurred around the rims. That actually made me think they should get back quicker because I wondered if lipstick marks might truly stain the glass if not cleaned off right away.
The bar was empty when I entered. I had to be careful not to fall over when I stumbled on the two steps down just inside the door. The near trip was caused because my eyes weren’t adjusted to the dim interior from being in the bright outdoors, and I’d forgotten nearly stumbling down them last time I entered. It of course brought the bartenders attention fully onto me. Due to that he arrived directly opposite the bar to take the glasses from me as I arrived. “Well if my sobriety test at the door didn’t tell me to cut you off young lady then your obvious make out session with my glassware has. You’ll need to fix your make-up before you go home, or your parents will think you’ve been loose with a boy even if they don’t twig you’ve been drinking.”
“I didn’t… I’m not…” Well there is no way to answer those accusations and not get in more trouble, so I just fled the bar in humiliation.
“Oh, I thought you might bring another couple of pints.” Anne Marie said, as her greeting, which considering I was already flustered didn’t help me in any way. “I was just kidding. You planning on doing anything else today?”
“Just wanted to have some fun before travelling back to school tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh, we actually have school starting first thing. Must be nice to only have classes in the afternoon. Where do you go?” Melisa inquired.
“Tomorrow afternoon I travel back to Bellmare Moor School. Classes don’t start ‘till Wednesday though.”
“You want to hang at my house?” Anne Marie asked, and after my nod stepped in closer causing me to take a step back and find myself against the picnic tables bench.“We need to fix our lippy and take a mint to mask our breath.” Anne Marie had a green roll of polos out and after popping one in Melisa and my hands had taken one too. I watched as both girls then took out lipstick. Marie’s red and Melisa’s pink and with the whole both stepping in against me for sharing the polos and being against the built-in seat of the picnic table, unless I rudely pushed them I had a frontline seat to watching both girls pucker up to repaint their lips. “Cherry red or candy floss pink?” Marie asked me.
“Anne Marie, remember I told you I am a boy. Could you step back?”
“Tegan, I know you told me you were a tomboy and I will help you with that. I chose red as you didn’t.”
I could taste the cherry flavor that I’d tasted first with Anne Marie’s beer, as she brushed her lipstick against my lips. “Come on pucker up Tegan, like you’re going to get a kiss. In fact, if you let me do this I will give you a kiss.” Well she’d already started, and I realized the whole bartender calling me a lady meant I’d already got lipstick from the whole sharing the same glasses, and I get a kiss. Well it was a no brainer. I puckered up and accepted Tegan as my nickname. I then got a kiss which apparently meant we needed to fix our lipstick again.
Thus, I found myself between Melisa and Anne Marie, arm in arm, heading back up the side street I’d initially seen them coming down. I was escorted toward downtown Hessle, but before leaving the old houses into the commercial center she stopped at a two-story house in a row of several. About an eight-foot length of newly repainted gloss black fence contrasted with both neighbors’ fence that had the time worn faded old black with rust on either side. The gate opened with minimal squeak in to the postage-stamp concrete front yard. Within three steps, and Anne Marie had the front door opened.
Stairs started on the right against the common wall of next doors. The rest of the space to the other neighbor’s common wall was a small living room. Unless you counted the rear of the sofa as the boundary between main hall and then about three-feet narrower living room. A white sheet was stuck into the side of the stairs with thumb tacks. Whether that meant the area under the stairs was a room, cupboard or child’s den I wasn’t sure.
Sitting in an arm chair that poked into the sofa’s marked hallway to the kitchen was a slightly overweight middle aged man in boxers and white vest. A floor standing fan blew toward his slightly sweaty flushed face, and the thinning brown hair seemed to cling to his head. He was watching a tv that was sat on the final piece of living room furniture. A table with that shiny false wood grain laminate top and four thin plastic legs.
“Tegan head up stairs with Melisa. Da, it’s a crisis intervention. I must save Tegan from her tomboy ways.”
“Wait a moment lass and introduce me to your new friend. You should offer her tea too. I am sure the crisis can wait a few minutes and not interrupt polite manners.” He grabbed a pair of trousers I’d failed to note were on the back of the sofa and proceeded to pull them on while I wanted to back up out of the house, but Melisa was right behind me and not letting me escape.
“Tegan, come over here and let me get a good look at you lass. Bet you are a right boy charmer like my Anne Marie.”
So next I’m going to shake hands with Marie’s Dad, who after partially redressing in front of me is calmly stood in unbuckled-belt-unzipped-trousers and vest as if this is not unusual. He ignores my arm and hugs me kissing my cheek. “Nice to meet you Tegan, so you go to Hessle High School too?”
“No sir, Bellmare Moor School.” I took a step back to get out of the hug. Would it be rude to wipe my cheek? I mean what the hell!
“Tegan take a seat. Oh, let me get my shirt off the sofa. It’s just too hot and I wanted to rest after getting off work. So, a private girls’ school. Where is it?” Marie’s dad pulled his shirt on while watching me sit on the sofa.
“It’s north of Malton sir. It is coed too. My sister goes to an all girls. I could never go there.” I mean of course I couldn’t go to a girls’ school. I was a boy. I was also so thankful I’d turned down the other option my parents gave me, an all-boys boarding school. As how could Tegan be attending an all-boys boarding school.
“Melisa are you going to help Anne Marie bring through the tea?” then as Melisa started to head to the rear of the house he added. “Ask Marie to show you where the foldout table is too.”
“I can help too.” I started to get up.
“No sit Tegan, I want to find out about you. When did you move to Hessle?”
“My Grandma has a house on Tranby avenue, sir. So, I’ve visited here for odd weeks all my life.”
“Will you be back for the Summer?”
“Not ‘till November. My parents are currently in Cornwall, but it’s too far to travel for the half-term holidays so I spend those here with my Grandma.”
“Oh, you’re like Anne Marie, one parent Cornish and one from the East Riding of Yorkshire. I wondered if you had moved here from Cornwall. My wife wanted to name our daughter Tegan, but her niece born three months earlier got given their Grandmother’s name and we eventually decided on Anne Marie. Melyonen, my wife, thought her name was not current, and her Mum would never accept us calling her granddaughter Violet.”
I was so glad I hadn’t mentioned sharing my half terms with my Uncle in Elloughton, as with my Grandma being my Mother’s Mum, and my Uncle being my Dad’s younger brother I wouldn’t have a Cornish parent to explain my name. Thank you, Anne Marie, for choosing such an awkward name for me to explain having. I mean can my Dad still be called John Allan if he has been re-patriated a Cornish bloke?
“So do you know Falmouth? That’s where I met Melyonen. Falmouth Docks won a Naval repair contract and to make deadline hired machine specialist up and down the country. I was there for eighteen months.” Marie’s Father told me, and I smiled and nodded and wished I could escape the house. I mean why did she invite me to her house if one of her parents would be there? I hope her Mum isn’t here too.
“I live close to there. I live in Helston, its a few miles away but I’ve visited Falmouth a few times for shopping.” I had been about to say for the second-hand book store, but figured a more generic shopping would sound more like what a girl would say.
“Oh, yes Falmouth has some nice stores. You will have to talk with Melyonen when she gets home. She’ll want to know which stores are still open.”
I had thought I had been so clever too, but I’d royally screwed myself. I was panicking but the girls were arriving one with the foldout table the other with tray and tea service.
“Tegan is the opposite of you, Anne Marie. She lives in Cornwall and visits her Grandma in Hessle. I mean if she lived in Falmouth instead of Helston she would be the exact opposite. Do you remember us visiting Helston? We’ve done it a few times on the trips to Penzance.”
“As soon as she introduced herself as Tegan, I was like Cornwall or Wales, where do you live, and we quickly got onto common Falmouth shops. Sugar or milk for your tea, Tegan?”
“I’m fine thanks.” I meant I didn’t need tea. I really wanted to get out of the house before the Cornish lady of the house got home and found me out as a boy.
“Wow she even drinks her tea black like you, Anne Marie, and her lipstick’s the same colour, cherry red, yes, Tegan?” Melisa inquired. I found myself with a black cup of tea and could only nod having lost my voice as I suddenly realized how bad my situation was. Of course my lipstick’s the same it’s her bloody lipstick.
I can’t even recall what we discussed while the torture of being a guest for tea occurred. I was actually glad for the escape to a girl’s bedroom while her father was downstairs and would likely kill me if he discovers I wasn’t the Cornish princess he thought I was.
Thomas Allan Wehl’s silver tongue has got him out of many tight spots. From age thirteen he has finely tuned his skills in conning bartenders to serve him beers to the point that here he is at age fourteen and seven-twelfths quaffing pints and abetting in the delinquency of pretty minor girls. Can her silver tongue get him out of trouble as fast as it’s getting her in to it?
“Close the door Melisa. Sit up on this stool, Tegan.”
“I need to leave before your Mum comes home. I don’t know clothing shops in Falmouth.” I started to panic, and Anne Marie calmed me down by holding on to me. Then kissing me. Somehow, I was sitting on the stool in front of her vanity mirror. The surface was filled with make-up, hair brushes, and other paraphernalia. The room was tiny and with wardrobe, vanity, stool and twin bed there was almost no floor space left. In fact, it was rather astonishing said items fit in the room.
“I’ll tell you about the shops while doing your make-up. Then you can talk to my Mum and leave. If you go now my Dad will smell a rat. What do you think he’ll do if he find’s out I’ve been kissing a boy in my bedroom with the door closed, and that you got me drinking beer first?”
While I resumed panicking, Anne Marie whispered with Melisa a bit then returned to hug me before I’d thought to get up off the stool. I blame it on the room being too small for me to think I could fit anywhere but where I was sat with the two of them in the room too. “Can I borrow your silk blouse?” Melisa asked while removing her top. I was staring at Melisa’s brownish coloured bra.
“You can’t wear it with a nude bra.” Anne Marie replied. I didn’t think the bra was nude, it was totally opaque?
“Fine can I borrow a white bra, and your silk blouse?” She then proceeded to take her bra off. “What do you think of my boobs, Tegan? If you sit nicely and allow us to do your make-up, you have the benefit of sitting in a girl’s room while girls get changed.
“I’ll show you my boobs too, if you let me shave your legs and pits.
Once more, look at two pairs of breasts and get make-up put on that I could always wash off later. Shave off leg hair that will grow back and whatever pits are or get found out as a boy in a girl’s bedroom. A bedroom with two girls in varying degrees of undress and that I had contributed to the delinquency of, a few minutes or so, earlier.
End result, after about an hour talking about Anne Marie’s favorite clothing stores in Falmouth and latest girl trends in fashion and getting make-up applied, I was now in the shower of the upstairs bathroom in a pair of girl’s white knickers with the shower door open, but the bathroom door locked. Aside the knickers the only thing I’m wearing is make-up, and talk about jumping in at the deep end.
Eyebrows plucked, eyelids powdered, eye liner drawn, and two coatings of mascara, because it’s supposedly additive or something to the first coating that’s dried and one coating is a job half done. I think I might’ve been tricked on that one. All of that was just the eyes, oh and somehow I forgot the metal clamp eye torture device that I am sure has only one function, and that is to cause pain so plucking eyebrows doesn’t feel as bad next time. Lip liner, lipstick, lip gloss and blush hopefully round out what I let the girls do to me, but I probably forgot something or ten. Anyway, with me are two girls also only wearing knickers, one pair a lacy black, the other a more plain cotton nude.
Yes, I have learnt nude isn’t nude but skin coloured, go figure, and did I really need to learn that. Melisa’s knickers, though briefer than the pair I have on, actually covers her privates, which is not the case with Marie’s thong, and I will leave it at that. I think her knickers are actually naughtier than having nothing on, which is also a new thing I learned today. So I’m snogging with a nearly naked girl, while the other took a disposable shaver to my legs. Every so often they swapped and I would then be snogging with a girl that to all intents and purposes is naked. Occasionally this odorous task was interrupted due to an apparent need to add more of the flowery smelling women’s shaving cream. I think Psych Majors list what the girls are doing as Pavlov’s training version ‘X’. Then again I might be missing a letter or two.
I found out that I shouldn’t have agreed to getting my pits shaved. I kept thinking I was going to get cuts all under my arms when I discovered what pits were. I’ve known my Dad to cut himself while shaving and the shape of the armpits, seemed it should be harder than one’s face, to shave. Maybe it isn’t and when I finally get some facial hair I will find that it is worse to shave your face than under your arms. Thankfully, either they are more skilled than my Dad at shaving, or it isn’t as bad as I feared, as I wasn’t cut once. However, I will be living in a boys’ dormitory for the next five plus weeks and I just know someone will notice before it grows back.
I’d also been duped into the knickers just in case Marie’s Father sees me, but as my bulge was lying diagonally to stay barely covered it was a pointless attempt at deception.My boxers would have covered it better. Wrapping up they told me to use the shower wand to wash off my legs. The cold water caused shrinkage prior to me adjusting the temperature to a more comfortable one.
“No, use the cold setting.It solves the bulge problem.” Thus, I turned it back to cold and bore the discomfort from cold water on legs then lean one arm after the other into the shower from outside it with towel around waist to stop splash-back? Well at least it wasn’t winter.
Having checked the coast was clear I was escorted back into Marie’s bedroom and while Melisa painted my toenails, Anne Marie worked out the outfit I should wear. Twenty or so minutes later and aside the wedge sandals we were all dressed. I’d not realized that aside being a bit taller than the girls I had a similar shaped and sized bottom half to Melissa. Of course, my upper torso which hadn’t yet broadened as it would when I got somewhere with puberty didn’t even have the smaller curves Anne Marie’s sported.
I had a pad added to my knickers, and I was to pretend I was on my period.Thankfully even Marie’s largest miniskirt was too small for me, as she’d wanted me to wear one of her miniskirts. I fit into Melisa’s black cotton knee length skirt and pastel pink blouse, and the other two girls now sport the miniskirts that Anne Marie was planning to have us wear.The black skirt was tight, but I was told this is good as it would force me to take smaller steps. It also on me was though not a mini a good three inches above my knees, as I am taller than Melisa.
Melisa has the white silk blouse she wanted to borrow on. It’s not tucked in. Neither is her pale pink one that I’m wearing. The bottom three buttons of each blouse is un-done, apparently that’s the current ‘in’ style. Being loose it tends to mask my lack of curves. I guess after the girls did something it looked more realistic as now it looks right, where half an hour ago it didn’t really. Marie found a pink training bra that hadn’t gone to Oxfam yet. Having it beneath the blouse makes it look like I have something there. Anne Marie has a hot pink boob tube that leaves her midriff bare and enables me to see her navel is pierced, thanks to the open buttons I can see Melisa’s is too.
Oh, yes that reminded me on the piecing fiasco. It started with me kissing their navels and finding out Melisa’s Mum owns a salon in Hessle, and did the navel piercing. That led them to looking at my dangly earring.
My left ear is pierced. I did it earlier this term at school, and my parents only know about it due to a phone conversation when my cousin, Jessica, informed them, she says, accidently. Well they said if Anne Marie’s Mum sees I have one earring she’ll know I’m a boy. So they pierced the other one. In the wrong place. I mean I looked in the mirror and could see they didn’t match. Thus I used a pen to place a dot on my left ear that mirrored my new piercing in the right, and a dot on the right ear where they should have pierced it. From one left earring piercing that I thought would make me look a rebel boy I now have two pairs of piercings, which just screams princess.I removed my dangling earring as it looked odd having it and three studs. Now with four studs I wonder why I didn’t just remove the one dangly earring.
“Anne Marie, can you and your friends come down please?” A woman’s voice called up.
“What do I do about the sandals? You said to wait fifteen minutes for the polish to dry, not too long ago.”I guess my voice must go into a higher pitch when I panic I noticed absently even though I was nervous.
“Carry them down and tread carefully you don’t want to get something to stick to you nails.” Melisa opined.
“Actually, they’re probably dry by now.” Marie blew on my toes then went to touch the toe that was painted first. Several quick taps later she said they were dry, and helped me quickly put on the open toe sandals.A second call from downstairs echoed up the stair well and we legged it down.
“Hey Melisa, hi dear, and you must be Tegan.” Marie’s Mum said to me after the others and myself had greeted her. “You look so pretty, but you need a haircut. I hope Melisa your Mum can squeeze her in with Anne Marie’s appointment, because, Tegan, your hair really needs some love and care. Anne Marie, grab your thin black belt for Tegan to borrow so she won’t have to change back into her clothes as there isn’t time. You really should have got her to wear one of your skirts rather than Melisa’s.”
As Anne Marie thumped her way upstairs Melisa chimed in. “Melyonen, it was hard enough to get her to where my knee length skirt. She only wears Jeans!”
“Well I’m proud of you Tegan for wearing your first skirt. I’m sure my daughter will have you in mini’s when we visit my parent’s this summer.” Marie’s Mum took the belt from her daughter and threaded it through my skirt’s waist loops. “Dave was saying you live in Helston. We’ll talk about all things Cornwall and shops in the salon but as we go tell me your favorite place to eat in Helston? Come on girls let’s get going.” She led us to the back door.
“I like it when we get pub lunches at a place between Helston and Falmouth actually. I don’t know if it was just great pub food or the name of the place that interested me more, but the pub’s called ‘Trengilly Wartha’.”
“Oh, it’s pretty around there too, the churning creek beneath the bridge and a few falls if you walk some of the forest trails up the stream bed. Yes Tegan, I’m going to enjoy talking to you.
The back garden was walled in with a bit of grass and a few bushes. The gate opened onto a snicket. I had all my clothes and wallet in a Debenham’s plastic bag. I was worried on returning their stuff back to them. They had school in the morning and I would be traveling back to mine in the afternoon.
Once the snicket opened into Hessle town center I knew where I was. “How am I supposed to get Melisa’s and your clothes back to you?” I whispered to Marie.
“Consider it a gift, your first girly clothes.” She whispers back. She is really milking the tomboy joke.
“Come on girls stop whispering we need to get to the salon.”
“I really should be getting back home. I need to pack and you want to get your daughter’s hair cut, Mam. I don’t want to be in the way.”
Marie grasped my arm painfully and whispered in an almost hiss. “Don’t upset my Mum or I’ll say you know what.”
“Let’s see if she has an opening. If she doesn’t, she doesn’t. I really want to talk to you. It’s been nearly a year since I was last home and I want to have a chin wag with someone from home. It would be nice if Anne Marie and you can spend some time together when we come down this summer too.” With no easy way out of it I was herded into the Salon.
Well that’s me snookered.Of course,Melisa’s Mum could squeeze me in, and somehow my hair cut had increased to include blonde high-lights as with Marie adding dying streaks of off-blonde to match my natural light brown or off blonde hair colour. Supposedly the end result is we would look like identical twins. Right, Anne Marie’s Mum is obviously a real joker, and likely the source for the comedic talent in the lass I’ve had to deal with for the last few hours. Thankfully some hot oil thing couldn’t be done.
“So your Mum is Cornish Tegan?” Marie’s Mum asked.
“No Mam, my Mum grew up in Hessle. My Grandma has a house on Tranby Avenue.” Melisa’s Mum was interrupted from jumping in to the conversation as the salon phone rang and she went to answer it.
“Call me Melyonen, Tegan. I want our families to become friends.” Thank you flippin’ Anne Marie, for calling me Tegan, I worried again. Melyonen was still talking though. “How did your parent’s meet?”
“My Dad studied for a degree in Math in Manchester University. They met there.” I wasn’t lying they did meet there; it just wasn’t the first time. No they first met when Beverley Grammar school for boys held a dance for the girls of Saint Mary’s Convent High School.
“Your Mum grew up in Hessle? Maybe I know her, what was her name before she married?” Melisa’s Mum asked unfortunately the phone call didn’t distract her from querying on Hessle gossip.
“Ella Goss.”
“Brin Goss’s daughter?”
“That’s my Grandma.” I was so screwed, of course the salon owner would know my Grandma.
“Didn’t you just move to Cornwall from Yeovilton?” Melisa’s Mum shot her next salvo at our bit of lying.
“Yes, my Da’s an officer in the Royal Navy he was based at Yeovilton, but is now based in Helston.” I haven’t been sunk yet. Hopefully I won’t be questioned specifically about my Dad’s Cornish origins. I just needed to steer the conversation away from Cornwall somehow.
“Well Helston’s not too far from the coast, but Yeovilton is nearly smack bang in the middle of Somerset. What are Naval bases doing that far off the coast?” Melyonen asked.
I had to stop myself from leaping and cheering. Thank you Anne Marie’s Mum for providing what I wanted. “They’re both naval air bases. My Dad is a navigator on helicopters, so he is usually either based on a frigate or shore based at a naval air base.”
“Well Melyonen, we can do the hot oil hair treatment too if you want as I don’t have to worry about the squeezing in of Tegan, anymore. That was Misses Wells on the phone she just rescheduled, and Tegan, it’s your Grandma that has the other appointment I was concerned might slip.” I joined in with the dance Melisa and Anne Marie orchestrated with yells of cool and other cheers. What else was I supposed to say? I must copy the true girls as I’m scared stiff of being found out if I act any differently.I was also in dread, would we be finished and out of here before my Grandma came? She finished up the painting of what looked like light brown glue with the folded tin foil wrapped around the painted hair to Anne Marie and then wheeled the torturer’s cart to the chair I felt shackled to. Melisa arrived with the plastic pot of glue for my hair and swapped it with the used one on the cart. She then left through the ‘private’ labeled door, likely going to the back to clean out the used bowl.
“My daughter has the exact same skirt and blouse and she wears it the same way you do, Tegan. Oh, but your navel isn’t pierced.” Well of course it isn’t. I’m a boy here.
“Oh, Tegan, yes, you should get yours done too. I mean we’re sort of like twin sisters being we have one Cornish parent and one Yorkshire one.” Anne Marie chimed in. Her tin foil bedazzled braids moving as she turned to look at me. What is she trying to get me to have done now? Whatever it is, hell no.
“I know how you girl’s are. Let me quickly do it, and you can button up your blouse. You’re off to school tomorrow and what your Grandma doesn’t see she can’t tell you off for doing.”
I was completely flummoxed on what Melisa’s Mum was talking about. Why would buttoning the blouse stop my Grandma from seeing my high-lights. Maybe she meant I could get out of the salon before my Grandma arrives. “Okay, but quickly please.”
When she lifted my shirt up I was worried she would find out my lack of breasts. Thankfully she didn’t go that far. A large light brown plastic thing was gotten out from one of the drawers. She opened part of it and pushed something in. I had my navel piercing before realizing what I had agreed to.
“There we are then. Let’s just do up the buttons. Melisa get me that cape. I swear daughter don’t you use your noggin or is it just there to attach earring ornaments to.Don’t worry Tegan I’ll soon get started on your hair.”
Well the next near ninety minutes were spent on getting the same tin foil lacquered and layered hair do, with a bowl of more whitish glue though than Anne Marie’s light brown. Mine will do the opposite of what Anne Marie’s glue does. Of course, I was informed that we should get our eye brows looked at while waiting on the hair treatments, and our make-up fixed. Didn’t the twin devils already do that?
Having the foil removed and washed with a flowery smelling shampoo and conditioner that I needed bottles of was next. The kneading of my head was really nice. Heck if this is the usual treatment in a salon I think I would use them from now on for this part. Oil packets that had been heating in a portable plastic boiler thingy, were squeezed onto our hair and combed in. Sometime later Melisa and her Mum used hot crimping tools to straighten our hair. I take it back; the head washing is to lure you to drop your defenses before they attack with the next torture implement.
With hair dried while being brushed I stared at the mirror and wondered where this shiny slick off-blonde with blond highlights hair, came from. My hair was beautiful and after being straightened fell way beyond my shoulders. I felt sad that “I’d have to cut it before school, because straightened it was several inches beyond my shoulders. I couldn’t recognize the beautiful girl looking back, well she looked familiar, but I kept drawing a blank and then thought how I would definitely date her. Is it bad that I think my female self is out of my male self’s league?
“You two could be twins. Just one’s got darker dyed streaks, while the other had blonde high-lights added to obtain the look.” Melisa’s Mum opined.
Anne Marie’s Mum agree. “Doris, you did it perfectly. Now my daughter has a twin sister. Take a picture of me standing between my twins. I’ll label it ‘Daughter, Mum and other Daughter’.” Melisa’s Mum took the picture. I’d have called it cascading skirts, because the skirt of Melyonen’s dress was mid length between Marie’s miniskirt and my knee length one.
“Perfect timing Tegan, that looks like your Grandma’s car.”
Horror of horrors the dark bottle green Triumph with red leather seats was parked on the street outside the salon and my Grandma was locking the driver’s door. I looked at Anne Marie and she finally looked worried too. What do I do now?
“I’ve got to go!” Melisa announced and ran through the door labeled ‘private’.
I was debating if I was better off trying the same or seeing if there is a rear entrance but found I couldn’t move. I was so scared I was frozen where I stood for the picture. I think Anne Marie was frozen on the other side of her Mum too. I kept wishing Grandma to suddenly turn back to the car. Go anywhere; just stop walking toward the salon. The door opened and Melisa’s Mum had to gab.
“Afternoon Misses Goss. I’m sorry I’ve squeezed your Granddaughter in so I’m running a few minutes late. Just give me a few minutes to clean up and I’ll be right with you.”
“My Granddaughter, Helen? What’s she doing out of Queen Margaret’s?” My Grandma’s eyes slid over the three of us and looked around the salon.
“Your other Granddaughter, Tegan.” Melisa’s Mum said and I could see from my Grandma’s bewildered expression that everything was about to come out.
I needed to do something, and I decided all I could do was try a super huge lie and see if I could get away with it. My throat was so dry I sort of croaked and had to pause and start again. “Hi, Grandma, it’s me, Tegan. I made a couple of new friends today and they pushed me to address my ‘Tom, boy’ ways. Things got a bit beyond what I expected. Here I am for the first time ever voluntarily being in a salon, and it seems I delayed your appointment.” I waved with one hand while my other clung to my skirt to stop it from slipping.
“Doesn’t she look pretty Misses Goss?” Anne Marie finally came to offer some help.
My Grandma looked from Anne Marie, her Mum, to me, to Melisa’s Mum and then back to looking swiftly to and fro’ between Anne Marie and me with shock. Was she going to let everyone know the truth?
“Please Misses Goss, let your Granddaughter know ‘ow pretty she is.” Anne Marie looked the picture of pure innocence slightly ruined with the famous Hull accent of dropping ‘H’s, or is that the ‘ull accent.
“I don’t think…
“I know I should have said something Grandma, probably talked to you before. But it’s done and we can talk this evening or tomorrow.” I was likely blabbering but trying to force her to understand my panic and need. Please just once Grandma, cover for me. I pleaded with my eyes and hoped she could grasp what I was thinking and actually do it.
My Grandma finally said. “I think I’d better sit down. Doris do you have any tea?”
“Just give me a moment I’ll get my daughter to make us some tea.”
“Hi, Misses Goss, I’m Melyonen, Anne Marie’s Mum. I guess my daughter really changed the looks of your granddaughter. I’m sorry for the shock, but if she was that much of a tomboy, this must be a welcome relief.” Melyonen was obviously nervous and afraid she’d stepped over the line as my Grandma was just staring at me. I guess Melyonen is one of those people that must talk when no one is talking as she waded valiantly in to fill the silence. “I’m from Falmouth. My parents are still there, and I’m hoping Tegan and Anne Marie can become friends. My daughter is always at a loose end when we visit Cornwall. Tegan says she lives in Helston with her Dad and Mum, your daughter, Ella. Your son-in-law flies in helicopters. You could’na’ get me in one, ‘fraid of heights, you see. Dog’s too. It’s why I won’t let Anne Marie have one. Though where’d we put one anyway. Not allowed dogs in the front or back, and we don’t live in a castle.”
“I never expected to see Tegan in a skirt and blouse. It’s always been jeans and t-shirt.” Grandma finally came to Melyonen’s rescue. I was wondering what weird random fact was going to be thrown out next.
“I take it then the skirt and blouse that look just like my daughters, are my daughters?” Melisa’s Mum said having returned from the private area.
“Yes Mam, I’ll get them washed and ironed tonight so I can give them back to you tomorrow.” I quickly jumped in.
“I know your Grandma has a specific washday. She can drop them back whenever, and I can wash them so don’t bother with that dear.”
“I’ll get them washed with my weekly wash on Wednesday, Doris. I might not be back in town ‘till Saturday though.”
“Whenever is convenient Misses Goss. Here comes the other scamp, my daughter, Melisa, with our tea. Melisa can you clear up, so I can take care of Misses Goss.
“Well, come here girl; let me get a good look at my granddaughter. Stand up straight. Let me fix your skirt.” My Grandma adjusted my skirt and it was back to clinging to me tightly. “Doris you’ve really outdone yourself. Tegan is gorgeous, and I can safely say I never thought I would say that about the prior Tom boy, she used to be.” I internally groaned. On the positive side my Grandma had let me get away with my lie. On the negative I still had a night and half a day to take whatever my Grandma decided my punishment should be.
“I’m so glad, Misses Goss, this is my treat.To be part of helping a girl to finally start the initial blossoming into the woman she will be. Tegan shares my Mum’s name. Doris, what’s the damage?”
“Wait a second Melyonen,I’ll be paying for my granddaughter’s haircut.”
“I wanted to treat her as she, like my daughter, is half Cornish. It was fun talking about Falmouth and Helston with her.” Melyonen said.
“Tegan, when did you become half Cornish?”
“I’m sorry Grandma, Mam. I sort of kept quite so you would assume that was the case. It just seemed easier than trying to correct everyone. With being named Tegan and currently living in Cornwall. Then you all were saying I was like Anne Marie, half Cornish.”
“Your ability to tell whoppers didn’t leave when your tomboy ways did. Lying by omission is still a lie. I must have told you a thousand times, if I didn’t tell you more than once, that a lie that survives is truth’s dagger, and your name, Tegan, comes from Wales. Between your Grandfather’s Goss family and my Wood family you have Irish and Welsh roots prior to all the Yorkshire twining. Tegan is your Grandfather’s Mum. By pretending to have Cornish heritage you dishonor your own name, you’re Grandfather, and your Father who considering he grew up in Skidby and went to Beverley Grammar school would likely be very confused to find out you’d been trying to make him a Cornish man.”
“Ah, it’s no worry. Telling tall tales is a gift, and she likely felt it would make her more comfortable. However,Tegan, I will only forgive you if you call me Melyonen from now on, like I’d asked you to do earlier. She has made strides into becoming a woman, and the fib didn’t hurt me. I did enjoy talking to her about Cornwall and I would like to participate in the initial steps of her blossoming into a beautiful woman. When we visit my parents this summer in Falmouth, Anne Marie will be glad to have a friend there that she can now visit. Misses Goss, could you please let me treat your granddaughter?””
“Melyonen, I thank you for the offer, but I am happy to see and reward the growth of my granddaughter too, and will pay Doris.”
“Can I get acrylic nails done then Mum, like Melisa’s?” Anne Marie asked.
“If Tegan wants them too, I’ll pay for that. Is that acceptable?”Melyonen asked looking at my Grandma.
“Thank you Melyonen, for your generous gift, and I am very happy to accept if that is what Tegan wants. Tegan, please thank and let Melyonen know if you want matching acrylic nails with Anne Marie, like Melisa has.I know your Mum, as a teenage girl, was thick as thieves with her girlfriends, and they always did things together.”
What the heck is Grandma playing at? I looked at Melisa’s nails though they weren’t as long as her Mum’s they still stuck out a good half a centimeter beyond the digits end. If I showed up at school with nails like those…
“Tegan, finally my Mum will let me have acrylics. I’ve been asking for ages. Would you get them too, so I can get them, please?”
“Melyonen, please let your daughter get nails to match her friend Melisa’s.”
“I’m going to. I also want to participate in helping you grow toward the woman you can be. If you think she should get them, then you should get them for yourself too. A friend doesn’t let her friend do something she wouldn’t do too.”
“It’s not that I wouldn’t do it. I would love to get acrylics, but my school doesn’t allow them, so don’t penalize your daughter because my school has a stricter dress code than hers.” Ha take that Grandma, my silver tongue found the way out of that trap.
“Tegan, no fibbing, your school has no problem with the girl’s getting acrylics the length Melisa has.” My Grandma torpedoed that excuse.
“Tegan, please” Anne Marie begged.
“Thank you Melyonen for you generous gift, I would love to have matching acrylics…
“Yes!” Well at least two girls were happy, and no, one of them wasn’t me, I am a boy. The two real girls dragged me into their crazy happy jumping about hug thing.
Okay girls you can look at the colours and styles. Melisa show them the book, and get the prep started. I can start on Misses Goss, and will get you both taloned during the wait times, so there’s no undue wasted time.
Thomas is not just failing to see the forest for the trees but oblivious to the trees as he pursues boons while attempting to ignore debts incurred even after they are due. Will he understand what his Grandma is trying to teach Tegan, or keep blaming her?
Getting into the Triumph I startled from my hair getting pulled followed by my head being tugged back by my hair trapped behind by back. “Oh Tegan, you’re going to need to be more careful sitting down and when you go to bed tonight. Lift yourself off the seat and tease your hair up a little before sitting back. That’s right girl now pop your seat belt on lass.” How much longer was she going to punish me with female pronouns? We pulled away from the curb and I started wondering what my punishment was going to be.
“Well young lady, what do you have to say for yourself?” My Grandma asked as she drove away from the Salon.
I pushed myself into the red leather car’s cushions hoping for a miracle. None materialized as we made a third turn and I lashed out at Grandma. “It would have been okay if you hadn’t disagreed on my school’s rules on nails.”
“Tegan, I’m not going to aid you in your lying. I’ve told you that a lie that survives, is truth’s dagger.”
“You accepted me as your granddaughter and being named Tegan…
“Tegan, I didn’t aid a lie there. That was a case of barn doors wide open, and the horse had already bolted. I tried to minimize the impact based on what you had already done.”
“How does me having acrylic nails minimize the impact?”
“This summer Anne Marie is going with her family to Falmouth. That is basically right next door to where you live, so Tegan needs to be in Cornwall this summer. I will likely be pestered by Doris and Melyonen for updates on my granddaughter. Doris will have all my friends knowing about my granddaughter Tegan, and I don’t lie, so I must have two granddaughters. Melisa and Anne Marie have said they will write to Tegan at Bellmare Moor…
“They both know I’m Thomas. They’ll write letters to Thomas not Tegan, so there will be no oddly addressed letters arriving at my school.”
“Their parents might ask to see or post those letters. Your school is not too far away that Anne Marie’s family might not decide to visit. There are too many people that expect Tegan, so by pressing you to get acrylics they will get Tegan. Thomas is gone.
“Then what was wrong with me letting them think I’m half Cornish?”
“Your parents told my Leslie Thomas Goss, before he died that they were naming their son, Thomas Allan, after both him and your Dad. Thomas was both your grandfather’s middle name and his father’s first. As you chose Tegan, I at least brought it back to the man your parents wanted to honor in naming you. Les’s Mum was named Tegan, and now Tegan, you are named after her. Les was my husband, in naming you after him your parents wanted you to be his legacy. I miss Leslie every day. I could honor him, in seeing him in you, and you Tegan, just threw Thomas Allan away, as easily as a piece of trash.”
How do adults make you feel a few inches tall? It was just a lark a bit of fun and she blows it all up out of proportion and brings out the guilt trip. I am left miserable; she is grieving, reminding herself of what she has lost.
“Tegan Allana Lesley Wehl, do you think I’d ever let you, dishonor my husband?”
“I didn’t choose Tegan. Anne Marie introduced me to her Dad as Tegan. He wanted to find out where I lived, and as I answered Cornwall well he was positive I was half Cornish and half Yorkshire like his own daughter. That’s when I found the Cornish link and that it would have been Anne Marie’s name. It seemed easier to be half Cornish so he didn’t question if I was a girl. I never said I was…
“But you never said you weren’t. The ease of the story all falling together, even to the point of what you said and didn’t say is one of the reasons why I think you should become my granddaughter. Come on open the garage door, Tegan.” My Grandma said handing me the garage key from her handbag. I was startled as I hadn’t realized we were already idling outside her house.
“Come on into the back sitting room, Tegan.” Grandma said locking the kitchen door after I’d entered the house. According to Grandma, a house should always have two sitting rooms. The front is formal for guests, and the rear is practical for family.
“Light a fire for me.” She was busily looking for something in the glass cabinet book shelves that were normally kept locked. I took the coal scuttle and carefully poured some coal into the fireplace. This was a more usual task when I visited in November, but I knew that when my Grandma was speaking the way she currently was, you should just do whatever she told you to do. Things just got more and more awkward until you found you had to do it, even if you ever tried not to. Turning the key for the gas valve and striking the match the fire flared from the gas poker through the coal heap I’d poured. Yes, it is always easiest to just do what my Grandma asks.
Once a couple of years ago when I was being a stubborn brat she’d asked me to prune the rose bushes and I had chosen not to, and said I was reading. She’d said fine but I couldn’t read my book until the rose bushes were pruned. Taking the book from me and locking it in the very same class bookcase she was currently perusing. She pushed me outside the kitchen door where the pruning shears and gloves were on the exterior kitchen window sill.
I, being stubborn instead went to play with Mark who lived a few houses down. We’d been playing for a while when Mark’s father came out and said we couldn’t play in his garden as we were making far too much noise and stopping him from working. Mark was all set to let me leave, but I talked him into returning to my Grandma’s house and play football in my back garden.
When we arrived, my Grandma handed me the pruning shears and gardening gloves, telling me she’d now asked me thrice to get done today the pruning of her rose bushes found in this back garden growing along that fence, and it would be better if I started taking care of those specific rose bushes now. I dumped the gardening tools on the garden seat. I always hated the rules she forced me to use with that word, and hoped my friend didn’t question how oddly pedantic my Grandma was in asking me to do an errand.
After we’d been playing for a while I glanced around thinking I’d seen something. The rose bushes seemed wilder than I first thought they were. There was absolutely no way I was pruning the rose bushes as the job was harder than I’d originally thought it would be. Ten minutes later and Mark’s mother arrived saying she needed him to help her with the shopping. I looked at the rose bushes, but they were so thick with braches filed with thorns it would take me hours to prune. Knowing that I left tomorrow back to school, I knew if I just ignored the rose bush today she’d have to get the gardener to take care of it.
I began to dribble the ball around the garden making up an imaginary game. This carried on for a bit until I stumbled accidently kicking the ball at the garage wall. It bounced off the garage wall hit one the swings support posts and ended up in the middle of the rose bushes against the fence. I couldn’t get to the ball unless I cut some of the bush back. It had to be a strange coincidence, but I was determined to stick this out this time. Normally when I got to this point I caved, but was determined to stick it out this time. I kept telling myself I leave tomorrow; nothing could make me prune the rose bushes.
A chattering noise and I see a squirrel pulling one of the gardening gloves toward the rose bushes. Worried I might end up having to do the job without gardening gloves I chased it and thankfully got the glove when it wasn’t too far beyond the thorns. So, I’m on the ground arm stretched out in the soil beneath the rose bush holding the glove when I hear the chattering. Beyond the glove protected by the thorns of the rose bush is the squirrel thief, but behind the squirrel there seems to be a paperback book. It’s my paperback book. The one Grandma took from me saying I couldn’t read it until the rose bushes were pruned.
Well I now found myself pruning the bushes and nearly three hours later I was able to retrieve the football and my book. Though of course it wasn’t my book. I’d been daft to think the squirrel could have got the book from a locked bookcase and dragged it under the rose bush. Nope obviously when the gardener had dumped the fertilizer into the well in the greenhouse, a bit of the fertilizer bag must have torn off and got blown under the rose bush. In my agitated state I’d thought it was my book. However, part of me was positive it had been my paperback I’d seen earlier, and even if it wasn’t the rose bush had not been as overgrown when I first looked at the requested task, I’m sure.
Needless to say, from that day on I did whatever Grandma asked me to do. I left the being stubborn and difficult for my parents. The tasks were always much simpler if done right away than the ones I’d tried to evade. So on a hot early June evening she wants me to light a fire. I’m lighting a fire.
“Sit down Tegan, and take this.” I sat on the sofa beside her where she’d patted, and took the book.
I looked at her and then back at the book.“Do you want me to read it Grandma?”
“Read what?”
Well we were off into weird land this evening. “The book you gave me.”
“I gave you something? What and where is it?” Grandma asked.
“The book you gave me, that is right here, in my hands.” I waved the book at her. “Do you want me to read this book?”
“What does the title on the cover say?”
I went to read the title, and hopefully get some answers but the letters I knew were there on the front cover, now I was giving the book all my attention, were gone. I recalled there were three words in black cursive ink. Now it was just a plain light brown leather covered book. I flipped it over thinking maybe I’d twisted it back to front when I waved it earlier. The other side was completely blank, identical to the front. I just knew it was the back though. The spine matched the back in having no markings aside some straight black lines an inch or so near the top and bottom edges. Other than that, it was blank and offered no clue to what the book was. Starting to flip it back to the front I saw the three words.
However, as soon as I was looking straight at the front it was blank once more. I turned my head and the book at a steep angle and the three words appeared. A long word, beneath it two letters then beneath that the third word. The third word was short but longer than the two letter word. It was ‘Word’. No it wasn’t it had gone again. The first word started with a capital ‘D’. Now it was gone too. It seemed the more I concentrated on anything the less I saw. The annoying thing was if I didn’t concentrate I could vaguely know there were three words, but the vagueness meant I didn’t get the information. The middle word was ‘of’ and it was a completely blank book cover once more.
Frustrated I figured the title would likely be inside the book too so I should just open...
“Don’t open the book Tegan. The title must be read before this book is opened.”
“It’s annoying Grandma, I see bits of the three words when I glance at an odd angle. But I can’t see anything if I concentrate and look directly.”
“What have you seen, Tegan?”
“Three words in fancy black calligraphy swirling letters centered at the top of the front cover. Each word is on its own line. First word is long and starts with a capital ‘D’. Second word is all lower case and is ‘of’. The third word starts with an upper case ‘W’ and I thought it was ‘Word’ but then knew it wasn’t.”
“Tegan, give me the book and turn off the gas poker I think the fire is going well.” After I returned she handed me the book once more.
“Which is the front of the book?”
“This side is.” I pointed holding the book front side up. There were no words visible, but I knew this was the front.
“Tegan today is the first day you are aware of the book and you’ve almost got its title. The first letter of the first word, all of the second and almost all of the third, and I am pleased to talk with you about it.”
“I think I would remember if I’d seen this book before Grandma.”
“Tegan, can and will remember, but Thomas never could. Thomas was holding it just two days ago when you arrived from your Uncle’s Saturday evening. Since Thomas was four every new visit to my house the first thing we do is sit down here and I give him this book, and away in its trance it has put him in ‘till I take it back. Every single time since the first time I gave it to him on his fourth birthday, when I brought the book to where you were living in Carpenter’s Park.
“Thomas was the best candidate of all my grandchildren and both my children.” Grandma leaned over and placed a hand on mine.” You’re Mum had the worst reaction a girl has ever had with that book. It would burn her hand before she had the chance to drop it. I have only had her try to hold the book two more times. The third time was the only time she could hold it. The third time she was pregnant with you.”
I was rather concerned. I mean sure I loved reading fantasy and fiction books. Even dreamed of something fantastical happening in real life, but this oddness was a bit worrying. Had Grandma fallen into dementia, or gone mad and worse was it contagious because I seemed to be in one of my fantasy books and sure I wanted to just jump in with both feet...
I took a deep breath, I’d always ridiculed the characters that didn’t accept the wonder when something odd and unique happened. I would enjoy whatever this weirdness was unless I thought it was hurting me.Then I would do whatever was needed.
“Tegan, are you awake lass?”
“Grandma I was just thinking. I am still aware of the book. I haven’t drifted off into sleep as you said usually happens when I held it before. You have dropped a large amount of oddness on me. Is this book magic?”
“Look at the fire, Tegan.”
‘Why does she do that!’ However, even angry I looked at the fire and I knew my Grandma was doing something while sat next to me. I wanted to turn and see what she was doing but years of doing what my Grandma asked had me held to the task assigned. It was frustrating how she evaded and as usual provided no response to a direct question.Then again if ever she were to answer quickly, it would likely mean I wasn’t talking to my Grandma.
The flames looked odd. I’d turned off the gas poker why were they looking greeny-blue? They were shrinking. The fire was dying, it was nearly out. “I think it’s going out. I should turn the poker back on.”
Suddenly the flames flared momentarily into the chimney bright orange then from a normal fire slowly they cut back again their colour changing to greeny-blue and almost sputtering out. Two more times they almost spluttered out then to roar up the chimney to diminish once more. After the third time it went out. No it didn’t just go out. There were no glowing embers, no ash beneath the coal rack. The coal looked cold. I wasn’t going to touch it to verify though. Even if it looked like the fire hadn’t ever been lit.
“Tegan, what happened to the fire?”
“You saw it too. It dimmed and flared, dimmed and flared and went out.” I said getting annoyed.
“Is that what you saw; The fire dimming and flaring twice then going out?”
“No it flared three times…
“Tegan, while remembering the rules to contain I’ve always told you must occur when speaking or thinking of what I have always told you to use for something that occurs once more than twice, can you give me a constrained sentence of what you saw?”
I carefully thought before speaking. Years of having that word and the punishments I’d been given for idle use had reinforced in me care with that word. “Grandma the fire went through a cycle thrice of dimming to greeny-blue flames ‘till it almost died then it momentarily flared brightly up the chimney orange, then after those cycles ended, it dimmed, went out and looks like it never burned.”
“Tegan, was that magic, and if so, is the power of a thing happening once more than twice contained?”
As I could see that Grandma was just going to make me do all the threshing to decide magic was real or not I figured she deserved a googly for all the odd bowling she’d sent my way. “Grandma, remember the day I refused to prune your rose bushes and after finding myself having to do it anyway, I called you a witch.”
“I don’t have any problems with my memories, Tegan. Now my joints aching before its going to rain, and a host of other medical conditions old age gifts us with. Those I have, but my memory is as sharp as it ever was, my girl.”
“Grandma is the reason why you didn’t get angry or punish me for calling you a witch that day, because you are a witch?”
“The reason I didn’t get angry when you started throwing out labels might be a bit like you not getting angry or wanting to lash out at me for referring to you as a girl, or calling you by your name, Tegan. Do you recall how I answered that question?” Grandma turned round and asked me a question. It wouldn’t be Grandma if she answered, yes Tegan, I am a witch.
I had to think a moment to recall the exact words and ensure I had it correctly formed in my mind.The requested quote was another of those phrases my Grandma has used often. “You said, ‘A label is as true as the one using it believes and I won’t waste my time getting angry if another thinks differently of me than I do myself. I know exactly what I am and whatever others think has no power changing what I know.’ You’ve also often enforced that you shouldn’t lie. Just today you told me that omission is a lie too, and then surely evading the question is a form of omission. Thus I ask you twice, Grandma, are you a witch?”
“Tegan, stop! Don’t even think of trying to say that. I’ve punished you many times for idly using that next word. You would be best off not using that word again for as long as you can, considering what it has already done today.” Grandma looked older and world weary. I was worried, but she seemed to shrug off the years with her next calmer breath and my vibrant Grandma, was thankfully sitting down next to me once more.
“Look I know you’re getting frustrated. That’s why you’re randomly asking me questions instead of thinking of the answers to the questions I asked you. The key thing above you must think about is I said ‘Whatever others think has no power changing what I know’ and I also warned you how that which happens once more than twice must be contained.” She took a sip of her tea that I’d not noticed she had before. I was mesmerized by the steam swirling off the freshly poured cup.
“Thankfully, we can see from your description of what the fire did once more than twice, that it was contained. It had been constrained by the fact that afterward the fire looking like it was never lit. We can go to sleep safe tonight in the knowledge it won’t suddenly flare up and burn the house down. I believe you put it well when you said I had dumped a whole heap of oddness on you. I’m sure if you thought of all the oddness you experienced today you could come up with different questions you might want to ask me. So Tegan, what do you ask me?”
I gazed at the book still in my hands. Grandma told me to not open it until I had read the title and I almost had the third word. I started looking at it askance to see if I could get more of the title. I mean I wasn’t going to make the rookie mistake of trying to run before I could walk, and open the book before reading the title. There are rules of course I’m going to follow them. “I’d ask to learn magic of course.”
Grandma sighed then shifted to get my attention. “Tegan, if you knew there were prices to pay to being a witch, would you pay them?”
“What kind of prices? Are they a one-time cost or a constant requirement to pay?”
“Very good questions. Tegan the price is sort of both or one-time depending on how you view them. The one you might think the highest initially might be not valued as being that costly as another later. As you change through life so do the costs of witchcraft. Also, just like taking a loan from a bank depending on your growth as a witch you could either pay less early or more later depending on the paths you choose to walk. You don’t just become a witch, it is a way of living.”
Could she be more vague? So many words to say it is and isn’t. I thought back on my interactions with my Grandma and thought about what was her defining characteristic with how we interacted. “Does the cost have something to do with your constant berating of me to not lie?”
“That’s one of them. When I first entered the salon and worked out who you used to be, I nearly pulled the whole building of cards, you, and your two accomplices had made. I want to say right now that though I have benefited in you becoming Tegan, I didn’t do anything to manipulate you into how you got yourself where you were, and I wasn’t going to lie to help you get deeper into the mess you’d made, as I don’t lie. Then I realized how everything had fit together to not let you or the girls get found out. Magic had lent a hand in what had happened. Another that we will call a meddler got involved, but I had two choices to choose from that point forward that allowed me to not lie. Each had a debt due for the magic so far done.
I chose to make it harder for you to not be Tegan. Maybe you feel I gave you a higher cost to pay. I hope you’ll later decide it was far lower or no cost compared to the costs that the other path would have required us both to pay. I know in you being Tegan, the cost I must pay is far smaller than that if I chose the other path and it has yielded me a net boon. If you are Tegan, my granddaughter, then I haven’t lied. Now you must step up and pay the price owed.”
“Wait what happened to the magic. I have this book. You said all I need to do is read the title and then I can open the book. How does me paying with the loss of being your grandson Thomas, create magic? I can’t go to school like this with nails and…
“Why do the young always rush in after what they can get now, and not what they must put in first? Recall, I said it is like a bank loan. Demand the magic first and you must pay more for it later. Put the time and effort in to grow. Paying first to learn and gaining the magic years later. When you get it, you will have paid far less, or depending on how you think, and the paths trod, you could end up thinking what was paid was a boon to pay.”
“I will never think that you causing me to be humiliated. Making me look like a girl…
“Tegan, I had nothing to do with you looking like a girl.”
“You could have allowed my lie of the school rules on nails…
“I told you Tegan, I don’t lie. Tegan can go to your school with those nails. There are reasons stopping Thomas from doing so, but not Tegan.” My Grandma cut me off.
“I am Thomas!” I yelled, and my Grandma just calmly straightened the skirt I was wearing.
“Tegan, I don’t lie. You unfortunately still have to learn the cost of lying.”
“You really are a witch! If I go to school like this I will be at best teased and humiliated. I could be beaten, possibly even to death.”
Previously
“I told you Tegan, I don’t lie. Tegan can go to your school with those nails. There are reasons stopping Thomas from doing so, but not Tegan.” My Grandma cut me off.
“I am Thomas!” I yelled, and my Grandma just calmly straightened the skirt I was wearing.
“Tegan, I don’t lie. You unfortunately still have to learn the cost of lying.”
“You really are a witch! If I go to school like this I will be at best teased and humiliated. I could be beaten, possibly even to death.”
Grandma just gave me a look, you know the one adult’s give to an overly petulant child, while they marshal their thoughts to rip into the child’s outburst and make them feel a few inches tall and at least five years younger than they really are. I guess it is not really mature to yell insults, especially when the person you are calling a witch actually is one, but she really got me ticked. Did she not care that I could be killed?
Grandma calmly got my attention then let me know. “Thomas likely could, but Tegan wouldn’t have those worries. Now calm down, we have much to discuss and I don’t want to send you to bed without supper, as if you were a naughty little girl. However, if you behave so then young lady, I will treat you as you behave.”
All my bluster and rage were extinguished like a flame snuffed. I sagged back into the sofa and sighed. “Why do you want me to be Tegan?”
“I told you I don’t lie…
“No, you said you had two choices. You could call me on all the lies letting them all know I was your grandson, Thomas, or make me Tegan.” I interrupted my Grandma.
“Bravo!” My Grandma started clapping. “Finally, you see to the meat of the matter.” Personally, I could have done without the celebration, but she was bubbling with excitement.
“I want a witch to teach, Tegan. Your Mum didn’t even have a flicker of the gift. Your sister Helen was barely any better, but Thomas, a boy, when witches are always female, he had potential.” My Grandma got increasingly excited as she continued. “The book accepted his imagination, but you shouldn’t dream your life away. I can’t teach Thomas much.”
Grandma sighed, and then as if sharing a secret leaned in a placed her hand over mine that was holding the book.“Why Tegan, I often felt that I couldn’t even teach him the absolute basics to not get himself in debt to magic.”
Well I never! She patted my hand as I stared at her gob-smacked at her brazenly insulting me as if I wasn’t the one, she was insulting. “His gift could pass to his daughter if he was lucky to have one, but even if I see my great-granddaughter born how much time would I get to share witchcraft with her.” While I still tried to work out how to interrupt and deny that I had been un-teachable my Grandma looked deeply into my eyes as if daring me to challenge those insults.
“I told you taking short-cuts is costly in life. More so in trying to grow in magic. If I want to share in the treading of a life in witchcraft, I will get less time to share with your daughter, if you even have one, than I will with you. Further, if you Tegan get pregnant and have a daughter with the gift then I share in the teaching of two witches.”
“That’s selfish…
“I’ve never said I was selfless, and I’ve disliked every person I’ve met, that has ever said that they were so.”
“Well if you can turn me into a girl. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you change your son and his sons?”
“Let me start with your later questions first, as they are easiest. My son and the two grandsons he gave me, are for the most part between your Mum and your sister in magical talent. They are between virtually none and the barest flicker, so changing them would be close to pointless. You, Tegan though, you, won the lottery on getting the gift. You could be far more powerful than me. You also aren’t lacking in the intelligence department. When it comes to wisdom; well… Hopefully Tegan is a better student.” My grandmother told me how unwise she thought I was.
I was still trying to wrap my hands around it while she continued. “There are now with you, three of us. You recall my Aunt, your Great-Aunt Margaret?” I nodded. “Well she wanted to dress you up in girls’ clothes as soon as we saw your potential at four. Of course, she is more desperate than me. All four of her sons are childless.”
“Couldn’t magic fix that?” I asked.
“Magic isn’t the be all and end all. Everything has a price and two world wars are the main reason our coven is three. I used your Grandfather’s intelligence to get him chosen as an engineer that studied the downed airplanes during world war II. It was critical to the war effort, but safer to keep him alive and uninjured than the poor boys sent to the front lines. Selfish of me and done without my husband’s complete knowledge. I still have costs owed for what I did. Part of the cost Aunt Margaret and her sons paid for the spells to keep them alive during the war was found out later to impact their ability to have children. They’re not all the same costs and it’s not my story to share.
“Grandma, World War II, ended in 1945.”
“I thought I already told you that there was nothing wrong with my memory, Tegan.”
“But, Grandpa was born during the war and you were born after…
“Tegan, your above statement would be correct if you were referring to World War I. We might have encouraged others to think differently.”
“Grandma, Mum was born in the late seventies, Uncle Malcolm in the eighties…
“I’m a witch Tegan, we tend to age well.”
“What ever happened to not lying?” I asked incredulously.
“Remember, I told you a lie that survives, becomes truth’s dagger.” I nodded slowly, I was still trying to wrap my head around what truth’s dagger was. “Well if you want fact to be cut to a different cloth of truth, like, say showing up at a hospital in your twenties pregnant verses in your fifties or sixties, then Tegan, you make sure your lie survives.”
I think my Grandma couldn’t have ever said something that would shock me as much as what she just had. “You, you… you lied, Grandma.”
“Tegan, I am extremely sure I’ve told you that I do not lie. I am very careful in ensuring the truth is what I can live with it being.
“So you could live with Grandpa dying?” I lashed out. I don’t know why, but I was angry with the flippant way she regarded lying when she was in charge of the lie, verses how she would figuratively flay me for lying.
Grandma suddenly looked out the window into our rear garden and I think she was seeing something different than the evening shadows I saw. After sighing she continued. “Your Grandpa lived to ninety-seven. I didn’t shorten his life.I primarily offered initial sacrifices along with my husband’s initial sacrifice only when desiring to keep him safe. An initial sacrifice is paid then, not even a day later, so definitely not payable at the end of one’s life. I’m not sure, but are you accusing me of stealing my own husband’s life like a hag? That is a path I’ve never considered worth the cost to follow.” She starred at me, her eyes holding back tears that I’d caused.
“I didn’t mean that I thought you shortened it. I’m not sure, I guess I just missed him and thought if you could make changes…
“Within mere moments of extra time passing, it wouldn’t be you Grandpa that was alive. There are huge costs that are completely not worth paying for any of the methods I have seen to even parody prolonging life. Tegan, I miss Lesley every day, but I remember the near century we got to share which is more than many others get. Is it enough? No, it never can be. If you have something good you’ll want more of it no matter how much you’ve got, or had.”
I wanted to change the subject. I could apologize and say I didn’t mean it but we would still like now be stuck on it. We were just hurting each other. Instead I barreled into another question. “So, Great-Aunt Margaret who didn’t have that option apparently for her sons, like you’d had for Grandpa to pay upfront. Why did she risk the later cost if she knew paying later it might be too high to pay?”
“We were in a catch twenty-two. Those without a choice to pay initially like your Great-Aunt with four sons had to choose. She could use magic to protect and find the later cost, like she did. The cost caused sterility, impedance, or no apparent cost on the sons that had a lack of interest in girls, to be more specific, a desire as they say to bat for the other team, which meant no grand-children. You Great-Aunt's only other choice would be to not use magic to protect them during the war, and risk having them die and still end up without grand-children, but also loose time with her sons too.”
“One of her sons is gay?”
“Two of them are.”
“Well problem solved turn those two into girls and they can have children.” I said thinking I would be congratulated.
“Tegan, they want to stay boys. Thus, it isn’t problem solved, and both are now in their eighties. Anyway to bring this back to you, it was likely the driving force why a damaged Aunt Margaret said we should dress you up in girls’ clothes at four. ”
I looked at my Grandma glad my Great-Aunt hadn’t gotten her way with me even while feeling sorry for her. “If my Great-Aunt Margaret was willing to change me into a girl why not do so with her four sons?”
“It was likely due to what happened to her sons that influenced her to consider taking away your free will. There is a huge cost to pay for denying a person free will.” My Grandma informed me. “How’s the book's title coming?”
Well I wasn’t going to let my Grandma distract me away from what I planned to tell her. “You took away my free will. You are forcing me to stay as Tegan.”
“No, I didn’t nor haven’t. You have numerous choices that can be boiled down into four groups. Go to school in boys’ clothes with girls’ nails, earrings, navel ring and girls’ haircut, and pretend to be a boy. Refuse to go to school and get expelled and stay with me ‘till your parents can get you home where Anne Marie’s family will still try to meet Tegan. Run away, which I strongly advise is the group of choices you shouldn’t take, as they will likely lead to death or a bad life. Or lastly the one that I strong advise you to take, become Tegan.”
“So I have no choice!”
“I haven’t taken any of the choices away from you. I didn’t cause you to be in a situation where you were left with only one smart choice. I can only be accused in after the fact stacking the deck for the choice I think is best for you to choose. It is still your choice.”
“You have a spell to turn me into a girl?”
“The end result is a few months or years down the road, the group of spells will finally give you that, but initially well it is up to you to drive it forward. It is your own magic that needs to power the change. The catch twenty-two is only girls are witches and able to learn. You need to be a girl to have the magic to turn yourself into a girl.”
“There’s no hope then!”
“Tegan, you nearly have the title of the book. Thomas went to sleep as soon as he was given the book and forgot about it. The more you are Tegan, the more I can teach you. The good news is aside a ritual created by Thomas with no formal training that always delivers and surprisingly only has a debt owed magic of about one pound twenty six pence, Thomas has already cast a high order spell. So, twenty more minutes while I make some calls, then I need to lock the book away, and you need to make our evening tea.”
After taking the two plates to the kitchen table. I hung the apron up in the pantry and brought the butter dish back. I then offered the butter to my Grandma and sat in my place. The chicken breast had come out quite well, if I do say so myself, I self-congratulated. I’d grilled it without drying it out with some butter and thinly sliced aubergine and tomato. The other side of the plate had a summer blend of mixed lettuce with olives, snow peas and a julienne of bell peppers. I’d sliced the left-over third of a baguette earlier and had that on the bread board between the two of us.
“This is nice, Tegan. We need an early night as we need to go into Hull early in the morning to purchase five sets of school uniform. Thankfully now, the uniform store will be opening at seven for us.” Did my Grandma just imply she’d caused the store to open earlier? “You will also need some women’s supplies including casual and dressy clothes for evenings and the weekends. I will be traveling to school with you to smooth out your transfer into Tegan.”
“I was hoping to look at the book some more, I mean I’ve got three letters of the first word and all of the second and third words…
“Tegan, you’ve exceeded what’s safe and need a break. When you told me the third word seemed to be ‘word’, but you knew that was wrong I knew it was safe to let you keep looking…
“It is definitely ‘wood’. So, capital ‘D’ then little ‘o’ several letters ending with an ‘s’, followed by the two words ‘of wood’…
“It is that you aren’t questioning your mistake that lets me know it is dangerous for you to keep forcing it. Remember trying to grab power first has a large often unknown price to be found out later. Tegan tidy up the kitchen and I will see if your sister or Mum left any night clothes for you to use tonight.” Grandma said, and left the kitchen before I could tell her I was planning on sleeping in my pj’s.
“…And protect Melisa’s clothes with an apron.” Were the words drifting down to me as I took the plates to the sink to wash them up. I grumbled but went to the pantry to put the apron on again and proceeded to tidy-up the kitchen. She’d forced me to protect Melisa’s clothes with it when she had made me make our evening tea. It was as if she was finding ways to make me be a girl.
It was after I’d finished and hung up the apron that I worked out what the book’s three words said. Beside the Pantry are some shelves that Grandma has a few fancy ornaments and photos on. There’s a black and white photo of Grandma and Grandpa when they were in their twenties in pride of place. To each side of that are colour photos. One of her son’s family and the second of her daughter’s or our family. But, on the higher shelve there’s another black and white photo with six women in it. The four older I don’t know, and they likely have died, but the youngest two sitting on a wooden garden bench in front of the four standing unknowns are my Grandma and my Great-Aunt Margaret when they were teenagers.
The two family photos have been changed multiple times but the others were the same as when I, a nosey seven year old kid, was pestering my Grandfather on telling me about the top picture. I can clearly hear now my Grandpa saying to me, what he said when I was seven and bothering him to discuss the photos here. “Nay lad, that’s the ‘Daughter’s of Wood’ and ya’ d’na want ‘owt to do with ‘em when they got together like that.” He’d then gone on to distract me with the names of my cousins in the photo of my Uncle’s family.
“Grandma!” I yelled as I charged to the stairs and started to run up them, and wasn’t that a pickle I got myself in. I’d forgotten the tight skirt I was wearing. Yes, I’m still trying to work out how I forgot that. Let’s just say running up the stairs with a skirt down to your knees that clamps both thighs together is not one of my better things to try to do. I think the only way to top it would have been if I'd attempted to run down a flight of stairs. My Grandma was so happy to see I hadn’t torn Melissa skirt. Thanks Grandma.
“What’s the problem, Tegan.”
“Problem?”
“Why did you scream my name, and try to run up the stairs?”
“Oh yes, I know the three word’s of the book…
“Tegan, I said don’t try to read the book…
“I didn’t it’s the picture in the kitchen. I remember Grandpa calling them the ‘Daughter’s of Wood’. I didn’t look at the book, but obviously my mistake was the ‘o’ that’s an ‘a’. But I didn’t look at the book.” As Grandma was just staring at me I couldn’t help but squirm. Was I in trouble, had I incurred debt because I’d exhausted my manna? Hey until she says otherwise I have to come up with words for this stuff and why invent if you already know a pre-built system.
“Tegan, what’s done is done, but let’s leave anything to do with the book ‘till after a good night’s rest. I’ve found a nighty of Helen’s. Carefully go upstairs and take care with removing Melisa’s clothes and hang them in your wardrobe. I’ll show you how to take your make-up off so come to bathroom in your nighty. Oh, and keep your knickers on but take the bra off.”
Well I started to follow all of Grandma’s requests, but I was seriously ticked and would really give her what for. It wasn’t just the acrylics, she was stacking the pile in the ‘choose Tegan’ column, and that was not right. I had my nighty in one hand as I barged into the bathroom in just my knickers.
“Tegan why aren’t you wearing your nighty?”
“Grandma you gave me tits!” I yelled.
Previously
Well I started to follow all of Grandma’s requests, but I was seriously ticked and would really give her what for. It wasn’t just the acrylics, she was stacking the pile in the ‘choose Tegan’ column, and that was not right. I had my nighty in one hand as I barged into the bathroom in just my knickers.
“Tegan why aren’t you wearing your nighty?”
“Grandma you gave me tits!” I yelled.
“Tegan, don’t be vulgar, and I assure you that when I first met you in the salon you already were as you stand before me now. In addition to not being responsible for your womanly upper curves, I also didn’t give you hips, shrink your waist and height, nor give you long hair that is nearly a foot down your back. I’ll explain as we remove your make-up.” I placed my nighty on the side of the tub then sat down beside it as Grandma used some cream and a cotton ball and proceeded to gently rub my face.
“Did you really think if you were just Thomas in a skirt and blouse with make-up and a hair cut that I would have been as startled as I was when I first saw you? I can assure you that aside containing the once more than twice you had left gaping wide open, the only other magic I cast was to shrink Melisa’s skirt to fit you because even if I’d tightened the belt it would have bunched up badly, and if I did nothing then the skirt might have fallen down to your ankles.” Grandma took a moment to sigh and looked sadly at her new granddaughter.
“Tegan, when I entered the salon I saw a set of identical twins stood either side of their Mum. I knew you weren’t Helen or Thomas, its why I looked to the rest of the salon even when Doris said that it wasn’t Helen but my other Granddaughter Tegan, and I wondered if Thomas might be pulling a prank. Until you called me Grandma, and the whole ‘I used to be a Tom, boy’ I had dismissed you as not Thomas.”
“Why would I end up looking like Anne Marie?”
“Well that’s due to three, let’s call them, individuals. Tegan, on the Saturday evening you arrived from your Uncle's in November last year I said I knew you were tricking bartenders into serving you beers, and though I disapproved, I asked for three things. What were those three things?”
“Don’t hurt or damage anyone or anything, don’t encourage others to drink, and don’t drink at the Red Lion Pub.” I said with my head hung in guilt. In my haste to try to chat the girls into drinking at a pub I’d offered the first pub I saw and forgot that I wasn’t supposed to drink at that one. Grandma never gave me a reason and it’s not like I didn’t have plenty of other pubs to use, so I’d pretty much forgotten about it.
“Did you break any of those rules I gave you?”
“The last two.”
“I can make an argument for the first one too, Tegan. As not damaging anyone, includes not hurting yourself. Whether, you or the Peddler are most to blame in causing you to be standing before me as you do, is something that could be debated, but Anne Marie was the least at fault of the three of you. She merely provided the seed of an idea and an opening that the Peddler could use to change you.”
Grandma sighed, threw away the current dirty cotton ball and looked into my eyes with pain and pity. “My grandson, Thomas, whom I’ve constantly berated about the dangers of lies. Whom I tried teaching of paying attention when certain words are spoken or thought for they are a warning that something is open and must be contained. If Thomas listened to me on at least one of my warnings, then the Peddler wouldn’t have been able to do what’s been done.”
“Who’s the Peddler?” I frantically tried to think if I’d seen some shifty character trying to sell stuff that had fallen off the back of a lorry. My next thought was for a shady cloaked character on a bike with a basket for his wares to peddle.
“Tegan, you laughed as if it was a joke when Anne Marie pointed out the sign of the Red Lion Pub, that due to missing and partial letters. It reads as ‘The Ped l or’, she even said the pub’s true name.”
“The land lord of the Red Lion Pub is a peddler?”
“The Peddler is more a force than a person and the Land Lord has agreements with the Peddler. One is to not fix the sign. So all can be aware they are operating within the Peddler’s bailiwick. If I had chosen the other path in the salon to change you back into Thomas, one of the costs to pay is that both you and I would each owe the Peddler favors it would count as once more than twice. Which of course is a trap to the unwary to owe favors for the rest of eternity, and you can be sure that a force of chaos will be stacking the deck against containment.”
“Witchraft is a force of order?”
“Balance Tegan, but we are getting way off base and have more important things to discuss. Firstly, as I’ve removed your make-up look in the mirror and accept that you are Tegan, not Thomas. It is vital you accept who you are, but more of whom you are descended. Remember my husband, your Grandfather, Leslie, his Mother, Tegan and your Dad, Allan. All of whom, you, Tegan Allana Lesley Wehl, are named after.” Grandma then left me in the bathroom.
I stared, and I’ll blame this body for the leaking waterworks because aside the hair colour, my male bits and a cup smaller pair of boobs, I was looking at the Anne Marie I’d met before the fateful beers, even without a bit of clothing aside my knickers or any make-up on. I now understood what Grandma was meaning when she had said Thomas was gone. I may have male genitals but this body was, aside that, female. Further, unlike my sister, I didn’t see my parents or grandparents in my face. I didn’t see a female version of myself.
Washing and drying my face I slipped the nighty on and headed for the bedroom. I found my Grandma waiting for me. “Pop into bed, Tegan, I’ll fix your hair for the night. Now, Tegan Allana Lesley Wehl, can you tell me your full name?”
“Tegan Allana Lesley Wehl?” What was my Grandma asking?
“Be surer of your name, Tegan. It is yours, own it. Now write it again and again on this. Think of each of the people you are named after and how you are related to them.” She handed me an ordinary note book and pen. It had my full name written once at the top of the first page. Then nothing but blank lines.
“What am I doing?”
“Becoming familiar with your name, enforcing it as yours. Solidifying and stabilizing who you are so it can’t be ripped from you. Now keep writing while I talk. I’ve set your alarm for four thirty…
“Four thirty, why so early you said the shop opens at seven?”
“You’ve got more to do in the morning now, before we can leave.”
“Grandma if the Peddler was causing me to turn into Anne Marie why do I have…
I blushed, as I realized that I didn’t want to call out my male stuff.
“You also still have your strong slate blue eyes not the bright light blue ones that Anne Marie has. Your changes are skin deep only, and your hair will grow the same colour it’s always been. Remember I told you the price for getting now is always a greater cost. When I was telling you off for not honoring your name and relatives. I wasn’t doing it to humiliate you in front of your friends. I was containing the spell before you, were no longer you.”
I now felt disappointed with myself. There I was blaming my Grandma. Getting angry with her and she was stopping me from being more changed than I already was.
“I was adamant I would pay for your hair as you are not Melyonen’s daughter. I reminded you who your Dad was to stop either you losing your Dad or your Dad being changed by the free wild magic you had released. Anne Marie does not have magic, and the Peddler would have got yours when it completed changing you into her twin. Her personality and experiences would have overwritten yours. To all intents you would be dead, and Melyonen would have twins that had the same first fourteen years of life. ”
“If the Peddler gets more from me the more I am changed why would it get me to bleach parts of my hair to get blonde high-lights and Anne Marie to dye parts of hers while we are at it. If it was going to use the salon, why not cause me to bleach all my hair?”
“Does a river run in a straight line to the sea? The Peddler used Anne Marie’s hair appointment to establish a debt from you to Melyonen, to prepare to have you at the genetic level be overwritten to pay for that loan. Why use its magic when treatments at a salon achieve temporarily the same result? Melyonen is not going to pay for her daughter to only get her hair cut and pay for her daughter’s friend to get both a haircut and bleaching.”
“Then why force me to accept acrylic nails from Melyonen?” I asked worried I owed a debt now.
“Because I negotiated the terms and the Peddler was not involved in the transaction. It actually enabled me to completely stop the Peddler’s deal from going forward anymore, containing the wild magic you had let loose. I included it being listed as offered as a gift. Which instantly decreased what could be owed. She gave the gift to celebrate your first step from girl into womanhood and to be Anne Marie’s friend. To be a word of caution to tame her rather wild child to tread on less dangerous paths. Remember, how she said a true friend would also do what she enabled her friend to do? Melyonen, would not have been upset if you said no to the acrylics, she was willing to use you to deny her daughter. For her, whether you said yes or no, she won.” Before I got bent out of shape of being used I recalled Grandma’s words on selfless people. My Grandmother would count Melyonen’s willingness to use me, as a positive character attribute.
“You will have to use Melisa’s clothes tomorrow when we buy you your own. I will also buy new packs of underwear for both girls, and a silk blouse for Melisa so that we give them back more than the clothes you borrowed. Why do you think it is a good idea to give them back extra clothes, Tegan?”
“Is it to ensure I don’t have a debt to both girls for wearing their clothes and using their make-up?”
Grandma nodded smiled and got up from my bed picking up the notebook and taking the pen from my hand. “Have a good night’s sleep, Tegan. She flicked the light switch as she left the room and closed the door to.
After the day I’d had, sleep was determined to elude me. I analyzed everything my Grandma said looking for any fault or discrepancy against what I recall happening. Trying to see if I could find anything that could solve or prove that it wasn’t my own fault as Grandma heavily implied. I mean even if she managed to smooth things out with the school there would still be issues like would anyone twig that the day Thomas leaves school a relative that’s female just happens to show up and start. Also, rarely does one change school for the second half of summer term. In a bit over four weeks its final exams for the year’s course work.
Then there was tennis, gymnastics or athletics that girls had to choose two of. How could I shower and get changed in the girls’ locker rooms? At night I would be expected to sleep in the girls’ dorms which would raise the same issues. It’s all well and good Grandma saying that though Thomas would get teased or beaten while Tegan would not, but he still had enough to be found out as a boy and couldn’t stop worrying. Then there was the typical boy attitude toward pretty girls. Some of the boys in our school were too aggressive in their pursuit of girls. I feared their interest in me could also cause me to be discovered, if I ever slipped up and relaxed just because I wasn’t in a changing room or the girls dorm at the time. No I couldn’t relax anywhere, anytime.
I finally got myself to sleep and wished I hadn’t succeeded. I found myself a prisoner within my own body. I could see and feel what Tegan did, but I wasn’t in control. The dream took off from Doris returning after the phone call to announce Tegan didn’t have to be squeezed in as her customer had rescheduled and Anne Marie and Tegan were now her last customers for the day. ‘Wait that meant Grandma wouldn’t be there to stop the wild magic!’
I wanted to get my wallet out of the Debenhams bag to pay the bill, but I had no control of myself. Tegan was increasingly behaving like a girl, and her thoughts of what she wanted to do, and wear made be uncomfortable and queasy. My mouth opened but I could form no words to interrupt Melyonen and Doris’s imminent transaction of paying for the hair do. That would seal the loan; cause my debt to magic to be due…
Thankfully the alarm seeded control of my body back to me. I refused to not be in control of my life. The few hours while asleep were bad enough, and at least I know the things I dreamt did not happen. Grandma was knocking on the door and bringing a cup of tea as I was stretching and sitting up having turned off my alarm.
“Quickly drink your tea and then use the bathroom. Try not to get your hair wet. Your skirt and blouse are hung up in the wardrobe, you’ll have to use the same bra, but I’ve got you a clean pair of panties here.” Grandma placed the bra I wore yesterday with a matching pair of pink panties on the other side of the queen bed. I was a bit concerned as they were not only skimpier than the pair I wore, but also briefer than the pair Melisa wore yesterday. That little bit of material would be all I had under my skirt protecting me from being seen.
Adroitly cleaning teeth after breakfast, I was looking forward to the next task. As it wasn’t yet five thirty, I had ninety minutes to study the book. Grandma had planned to spend up to an hour teaching me how to apply my own make-up, and the balance on the book, but agreed that I had the choice to not wear make-up and spend the whole time on the book. After my horrible nightmares last night having that one victory was huge.
“What do you see, Tegan?”
I’d been all psyched up. I was expecting as I now knew the title to read it aloud and get started opening the book and learning magic for ninety odd minutes. Well I was positive I knew the title but I still saw the second letter as an ‘o’. Except knowing that seeing it as an ‘o’ being wrong and positive that I knew the title I was at the exact same point I left off yesterday evening.
“You still se the ‘o’?” Grandma calmly asked.
“I know it’s wrong though but can’t force it to be an ‘a’ I let her know my frustration.”
“Don’t try to force it, and at least you know more than yesterday. You have improved. Progress is still occurring. I am glad you don’t have all three words. I prefer you to steadily learn, and though you think this is slow you are doing so much faster than I did.
Even knowing what the title was it wasted thirty five of my ninety minutes to get the three words to show up. My other problem, aside the lost time was though the three words were there finally visible I knew something was wrong with the title. I threw the book down in frustration.
“Tegan, what’s wrong now? I thought you understood it would take time even to see what you expect to be there.”
“I can see all three words, but they’re wrong. I was so sure it was right. That I’d found the title. I wasted all my time trying to see what I thought the title should be and likely forced it to display what I wanted rather than what it is.”
“Tegan if I said, ‘You are wearing a black belt,’ would that statement be the truth?”
I looked at my belt and back to Grandma. “Yes.”
“But, Tegan it isn’t the truth. A statement that is closer to the truth but still is not the truth would be to say ‘You are wearing a thin plastic black belt with black cotton stitching, punched holes and a buckle made from a mixed alloy of metals,’ it still would not be the truth but it is truer than the first.”
“What’s that got to do… There’s more than three words to the title of the book.”
“Bravo, Tegan, bravo.”
I swear this magic stuff is beginning to be a good news, bad news deal. Tegan you’re a witch, but you can’t stay a boy to learn about magic. Well back to trying to read the book title. “I assume I am looking for something like ‘Grimoire’, ‘Spell Book’, ‘Book of Magic’, or ’Repository of all Magical Knowledge’ for the rest of the title.”
“Something like that.” My Grandma smiled at me and made a ‘go on’ motion with her hands to get me back to looking.
With less than five minutes left ‘till we needed to leave I’d got pieces of the fourth word that was either eight or ten letters long depending on how you count the two double letters. “Grandma is the next word in English?”
“Tegan, you do know how to amaze me. It took me over four hours after knowing there were more than three words to work out said more wasn’t written in English. What have you got?”
“Just that two of the letters are like the double letter a and e squashed together. They are not that though, nor are they the same and one is found near the beginning of the word and the other is the last letter and it is superscript to the rest of the word. If the word was a maths expression it would look like the initial part is risen to the power of the last double letter.”
“Well you can possibly look at this again if we have time when we get back. However, now we need to get to the station.” Grandma took the book and locked it up. I wanted to complain and keep looking, but knew we had to get into Hull.
Locking the garage door after Grandma reversed the car from the garage, I quickly got into the car to drive to the railway station. We found a spot on the street near the station and with a minor wait as the train was running a few minutes late, we were getting off the platform and onto the six-twenty-eight Hull train.
The train trip from Hessle to Hull is in that range of time that you wonder why you bothered sitting down. Dependent on if the train is trying to catch back lost time or not the trip is between eight and twelve minutes. If the train is busy and slightly behind, like it was this morning, it can and did take us nearly five minutes to find a seat. If we had not bothered, we would have wished we’d looked but having bothered one wonders if it was a wasted effort when just slightly over three minutes later we were pulling in to the terminus and bailing from the seat into Hull with a little less than twenty minutes to make the short walk to the School Uniform Store.
“We’ve time for a cup of tea.” Grandma remarked, to let me know we would be stopping for one. I think she runs on the stuff. “Come on ‘Two Gingers’ is there.”
We were still in Hull Paragon Terminus and I knew the ‘Two Gingers Coffee House’ was in the Paragon Arcade on the other side of the Ferensway* but there was a door clearly labeled with their business and hours of operation from '8:00 AM to 6:00 PM'. “I don’t think they’re open yet…
“Sure, they are. Come on Tegan, put a bit more welly in.” Grandma opened the door and chivied me to catch up.
She’d already got sat at one of the long tables and I hear her order two loose leaf teas and we’re apparently sharing a slice of cake, as I’m looking for the door I just entered through, but only finding a blank wall.
Well one of the ginger haired owners is here but I don’t know if the place was open or if he was here to get the place ready to open. With my eyes opened to how Grandma allowed the lie of her husband and her own birth to give them a younger age I am now wondering if the whole, ‘I don’t lie’ is part of the spell to mind bend reality. Now when Grandma claims to never lie, I’m looking at it as she means once more to bend the world to her truth.
The cake was nice moist and buttery without being too heavy and went well with the dragon pearl white tea that was on offer today. The tea was definitely well wet, though with the delicate flavor it probably could have done with us letting it mash a bit longer than the time we had to spare. I obviously wasn’t completely awake as it wasn’t till I left the rear seating area for one of the two doors that I noticed the lights around the two sides of the store front and doors weren’t on.
“We need to use this door Tegan.” Grandma said, indicating the space between the two long pale wooden tables which I swear was a plain white wall before, and wasn’t there a potted tree?
We exited the door and we’re stood between two shop fronts. One was labeled ‘Kingston Jeanery’ and the other ‘rawcliffes’ spelt with a lower case ‘r’ I noted the oddity. I was a bit turned around, I mean I knew Paragon Arcade had entrances onto Paragon Street, but it was closer to the station. I just wondered why we took the train to Hull if Grandma could open doors to where she wanted to be. Before I could ask though she was opening the door at a couple of minutes before seven. A door that stated it opened at nine not seven in the morning. The store front was as lit as the coffee shop’s front had been, in other words all the lights were off save background lighting focused on the display cases, shelves and mannequins.
I was pondering if I was supposed to lock the front door when a yell of “Tegan!” convinced me it was likely already in hand, and so I darted after Grandma as she was exiting the empty shop floor for the warehouse area behind. I had to run a bit as she was turning into a side aisle ahead of me. Several twists later and through a curtained off partition, and they designed the room to make you think you had come through the bay window of someone’s formal sitting room. A cuckoo clock was chirping the hour.
The second thing, in this front living room I noticed though, which made sense as of course they wouldn’t need a fireplace, was instead of the fireplace, there was a short step-up fitting platform. It was a clever idea, and likely calmed a kid about to be shipped off to boarding school, to be measured in a living room instead of a shop. The curtains swayed back closed and I even momentarily thought I’d seen the wall and bay window sill, which was silly as this was a prop in the store’s warehouse, not someone’s actual formal living room.
“Perfect Misses Goss, right on time. This is your granddaughter? Come on girl, stand up here, let’s get you measured.” The old skinny tall lady was the third thing I noticed. “Belmare Moor, yes? Oh, you’ll have your third year trials later this month. Am I ever glad I passed those murderous tests. Tegan, what’s Belmare Moor’s current mortality rate, for third year trials?”
“What!”
“Tegan she’s joking with you. Alice really that was completely inappropriate.”
“I have to get up early, then I deserve to get entertained. Tegan, thank you, I will treasure your horrified expression all week. Now take your blouse and bra off.”
The distraction of having my new assets measured allowed me to calm down from the last scare. With Grandma’s blatant use of magic I’d forgotten that ‘Rawcliffes’ was a normal store for supplying school uniforms. Actually, I was lucky Alice didn’t think my overreaction to her joke was suspicious. Probably Grandma, soothed more than me, when she intervened. It was odd talking about my finals this month, they were next month. Further, calling them trials was unusual. She obviously used the word to unsettle me and thus wind me up. I finally regained my composure due to working out why the odd word was used. Also, for someone as old as she was, she couldn’t be expected to recall which month finals were offered.
I guess one good thing about being measured for the girl’s uniform was I didn’t have to get an inside leg measurement. That could have caused problems for me, being a boy. Nope the skirt required waist, hips, and the front of the body length from waist to knee. There was an allowed range of one and a half inches below to two and a half above the knee to determine which one to get, and thanks to the peddler I now had hips.
Unfortunately my small waist and hips were not enough to get the longer skirt though. True the skirt that fit me was only three inches shorter, but as I didn’t want to wear a skirt in the first place, my problem was, that it was those three inches shorter. “When I grow this skirt will quickly fall out of regulation length, it’s only half an inch in currently.”
“Tegan, with your waist and hips this is the standard length skirt and the range is really only enforced when first bought and has growth factored in. If you grow an exceptional amount there is three-eighths hem I can let out.” Alice informed.
“Could you let the hem out now?” I asked hopefully.
“Young lady, you’re travelling to school today, so there is no time for alterations, and it fits you right now perfectly. Soon enough and you’ll be arguing to sneak one through that’s too short for sure.”
“Alice, please pack a small travel trunk with four sets of uniforms, and two ribbons after we leave. I’ll pay now for that plus a fifth uniform including ribbon, beret and blazer that she will wear out today. I will be back after shopping for Tegan’s other supplies.”
After getting me kitted in the girl's school uniform, Alice led us to the false bay-window floor length curtains, into and through the warehouse, then back into the shop front. I waited patiently not paying attention to the conversation between the two ladies, while everything got rung up and my Grandma paid at the register .
“Come on Tegan we have other things to shop for.” Grandma told me heading for the exit back onto Paragon Street. I expected us to go to the door we’d come out of when arriving, but to prove it wasn’t a real door, there was now an old stone wall column between the two businesses. “I guess you’ll want jeans amongst your casual wear?”
I nodded and saw a sale’s associate open Kingston Jeanery, the store next door, forty odd minutes prior to its nine-a.m. opening time.
Though I did manage to talk the sales associate out of the skin-tight design and got three pairs of regular jeans, they did trick me into two pairs of jeggings, and I discovered in the changing room that the girls’ regular fit was a whole lot tighter than the boys. I also found out when I tried them on that the jeggings were so tight they might as well be painted on, which meant I wouldn’t be able to wear them. I couldn’t use that excuse because I didn’t want to bring attention to the fact I was a boy, and Grandma failed to notice my hints and bought them despite my attempts to not get them.
We left the store and the extra door between the two businesses was ready for us this time. Walking through we were beside Cooplands bakery which is up Paragon Street closer to the Ferensway. The bakery was open, as it opens at eight, so of course we didn’t enter it, but re-entered the door we had just left and came out at the top of Baker Street, across the road was Debenhams.
“Grandma, why did we catch the train this morning, if you can just make doorways?”
“Doorways are limited in distance and must have a common name. The first three used that each was named ‘Paragon’, this last one was a little harder, but the business of bakeries are usually located on Baker Street. Any way, we just have a few more selections to get from Debenhams, and you’ll be kitted out young lady. Being just gone nine Debenhams is now open. Let’s finish shopping so we can get back home.”
After nearly two hours spent in Debenhams and loaded under far too many bags we returned to Cooplands, and got a cup of coffee and buttered scone. It was just what the doctor ordered as with the poor sleep last night and early start I was flagging. Thankfully the next door hop to Rawcliffes allowed most of the items bought to be loaded into the trunk.
The thanks was short lived as next Grandma and I, with a side of the trunk each, left the store and used the door to get in the PLA** office of Paragon terminus railway station. “Grandma, PLA takes about two weeks to get the passengers luggage to the destination.” I hissed to her quietly before the worker got too close to the counter. When he got closer I also pulled at the hem of my new school skirt hopping to draw it further down as the lecherous man behind the counter brazenly wandered his eyes all over me, mentally undressing me.
“Don’t worry Tegan, I’ll fix that. Good morning sir, I need to send my granddaughter’s trunk PLA to her school.” She smacked my hand away from my skirt. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it was lengthening my skirt that she planned to fix.
“Pop the trunk on the scale and unless you want to pay for extra weight take the shopping bags off the top.” The young man informed us. I guess chivalry is dead. I didn’t mean because I now looked a girl, but it’s his job and he expects my Grandma with my help to lift it off the counter and lower it onto the floor scale.
The PLA worker came around the counter as we lifted the trunk off it and stood behind me as I backed toward the scale, so Grandma could walk forward.
“Wait Tegan. Young man get out of the way. My granddaughter is fourteen and with you standing where you are it looks like you are trying to get her to back into you.” Grandma was frowning over my shoulder until he moved from behind me. I was just glad Grandma worked out his intention, as I would have been livid if what he planned to have happen had occurred. Perhaps he would have carried the trunk for Grandma, but didn’t because he was too busy orchestrating a groping of me. Was this something I had to constantly think about now?
I picked the few bags we would take with us off the trunk, so its weight could be read. As I stood up I noticed he had been looking at my bottom when I was bent over. It would seem he still got the secondary prize and I was suddenly feeling guilty at all the looking I had previously done of other girls. It’s different when you’re the oglee rather than the ogler.
Needless to say, I was quite happy to get out of the PLA office and get on the platform that the Hessle train will leave from in nearly fifteen minutes.
“Will you tell me now, how my trunk will get to school in time?” I asked after we sat on one of the platform seats waiting for our train to arrive.
“It’s dated, and the young man believes what just happened is him recalling us dropping the trunk nearly two weeks ago. His minor wrist slap for forgetting to get the trunk started on its journey pays back for his lewd behavior toward you, and failure to help a customer put the trunk on the scale. You not using the return half of the train ticket to Malton pays for the extra delivery cost of getting the trunk to your school in three days instead of the usual two weeks.”
“We’re not catching the train? Grandma it is quite a long drive to the school, and I swear the bus always uses different roads on the moors and all the road signs are still wrong up there***. I might get us lost.” I started to panic, being on the moors around our school in the evenings and not knowing exactly where you’re going is probably on the top ten list of stupid things you should never do.
“Tegan, don’t worry about it. I looked the school over before your parents offered it to you. I can find it on a cloud filled new moon night without a candle. Look, here comes our train.” Her distraction successfully pulled me away from paying more attention to her odd expression.
Having got home I quickly packed my suitcase with my purchases, and put Melisa’s outfit into the laundry. I then made a quick lunch for Grandma and myself. I brought a tray with the ploughman’s sandwiches on plates and a couple of cups of tea, and gave the one with milk and sugar to my Grandma who’d been resting in an armchair in the rear sitting room. I’d actually grown used to drinking my teeth black. Part of me was worried that it meant my personality had been partially overwritten for Anne Marie’s. Then I took stock that it was the only change I noticed and if I had to have one thing overwritten then my taste in how I took my cup of tea, though central to an Englishman’s life, was something I was willing to sacrifice, as long as everything else that was me, remained me.
“Tegan I will wash up the lunch things while you try to puzzle out the fourth word. Dependant on whether or not you manage in the next two to three hours will determine how we will address the one outstanding issue before we head back to your school.” Grandma told me prior to taking the tray of dirty pots back through to the kitchen, and I picked up the brown leather book once more.
I tried to not waste time being distracted wondering what the one thing left to address was. I was quiet successful, if I do say so, but what can I say it might be an annoying puzzle, but magic, kind of lends itself to provide a reason to concentrate. A bit over an hour and a half later and I had no idea if I had got closer on the fourth word, being that it wasn’t English and didn’t have any of the standard twenty six letters. I knew it was a concept of all knowledge, magic power, true names, and that the superscript double-letter symbol stood for all of that raised to the power of something else. Did I just need to grasp the concept, or must I pronounce this word that my gut informed me likely was not of any spoken language? It would be nice if as a concept I just needed to hold the image then I would only need to work out what it was risen to the power of.
As I glanced at the window looking out onto the backgarden I saw the translucent reflection of Tegan in the glass.
It’s myself! ‘Daughter’s of Wood source of knowledge, magic, power, and true names raised by the power of my own will.’ And the book’s cover was no longer brown, but blood red with the title in cursive black letters clearly visible even when looking straight at it. Including the fourth unspoken word, I now grasped the concept of.
“Perfect I won’t have to return to your school every week. You, Tegan, are going to learn your first spell. Tegan think ‘veiled for twenty-seven and eleven and open the book.” Grandma informed me. I hadn’t even known she was there.
“Don’t I need to be given a bit more specific information on what the spell does?”
“Tegan, just do as I ask, there isn’t too much time. Think ‘veiled for twenty-seven and eleven’. Open the book, learn the spell.” Grandma told me in a voice that sounded all kinds of frustrated with me. I did as requested and what do you know the spell explained all the missing information that my Grandma couldn’t be bothered to tell me.
Like hell it did. The bloody page was completely blank. I’d barely started to turn away from the book and Grandma is almost yelling at me. “Yes, Tegan the page is blank. Just keep looking at the page until you learn something, I’ll start making high-tea^.”
So for over two hours I stared at a blank page of a magic book. Magic sucks!
I was offered a quick interruption to scoff down a scone with a cup of black tea then back to staring at the blank page. I think I dozed off as suddenly I’m feeling… full? My hands are also hurting from holding the book so long. They feel hot, sweaty and itching and on fire. “Hell!” I dropped the book my hands looked like they’d got sun burned. There was something trapped inside me pushing and straining. Trying to escape.
“Great you have the spell. I’ll pop the book away.” Grandma picked up the now once more brown leather bound book that had no words on its cover and locked it up in the cabinet.
“Now, conveniently when she was shaving your legs, Anne Marie was only wearing crotchless panties. I need you to imagine the area between your legs looking exactly how Anne Marie’s did. Do you have that image firmly in your head, Tegan?”
I went through a gambit of emotions where embarrassed and humiliated took pride of place, but finally was able to think the image and nodded to let my Grandma know I had it. “Now Tegan, while keeping firm hold on that image say, ‘For twenty-seven hours and eleven minutes veil me with this image.’”
“Well Granddaughter you have just cast your first spell, well intentionally and knowingly for the first time at least. When you wake up tomorrow you will feel that odd full feeling and find you are able to cast it again. Do so, each morning at the same time and you will seem to have female genitals, and no bumps will show even when just wearing panties.”
Worried I patted the front of my skirt between my legs and felt I was still there even though the skirt seemed to go right in between my legs without meeting any obstruction. “It’s only an illusion, Tegan. The spell is only a beginning level easy spell that makes an illusion of minor changes to the witches own body for a limited duration. Oh, but next time you don’t need to give yourself the knickers too. I really don’t think that style is appropriate at your age young lady.”
“Should I put my suitcase into the car now, Grandma?” I needed to change the topic fast and work out how to stop all my blood rushing to my face.
“Actually, while you let me lock up, bring your suitcase to the green house.” I looked at my Grandma oddly, but then as she gave me the get going hand signals I grabbed it from beside the sofa and headed to the kitchen with it.
“If we need something from the green house doesn’t it make sense to pop the suitcase in the boot first?” I asked Grandma as she locked the rear kitchen door.
“We need the suitcase…
“Grandma, I don’t have the magic book to re-learn the spell.”
“Every morning you will wake up primed to cast that spell, as long as you don’t waste the spell casting a different illusion on yourself you’re covered. Now come on let’s get to the greenhouse.” Grandma opened the gate and headed across the garden’s paving stones to the green house behind the swing. She entered the greenhouse and proceeded to lift the wooden board off the well.
I couldn’t stop myself from shivering and getting worried. I have nightmares about Grandma’s well and it’s Helen and Grandma’s fault. Possibly it is because I’ve been told the story multiple times or it was so traumatic I do recall what happened when I was a few months shy of three years old. We’d come to visit our Grandparents and while Dad, Mum, Grandpa and Grandma were sitting on deck chairs in the back garden drinking tea and talking, I was chasing Helen around the garden. Well chasing in as far as a toddler can do.
Earlier Grandma had been watering her prize tomatoes in the green house with well water, and she hadn’t covered the well back up. The greenhouse door was propped open and the well was just inside the entry. Helen ran inside the greenhouse and seeing the open hole jumped over it. I toddled after my older sister, and fell in the well.
A well the gardener dumped fertilizer in. So a foot or two down there is then three or more feet of shitty water. I think my Dad broke the world record for running the hundred yards as I was just starting to cry out. I was likely swallowing Grandma’s secret tomato food, when I saw him hanging down into the well and yanking me toward the obstructed circle of light past the oddly shining stones of the well wall. I don’t have memory of being under the water, but Dad said I wasn’t visible and he plunged his arms into the liquid shit, frantically waving them ‘till he captured me.
I’m less clear on recalling the trip to A&E and the injections and course of antibiotics I was apparently put on, but I still have nightmares of the well’s cover being closed after I’d fallen in. Laughter and voices saying Thomas was a useless son and not worth getting dirty to save anyway. Needles to say, I was a bit put out that Grandma chose now, to water her flippin’ tomatoes!
Grandma stood in front of the now uncovered well, and said. “Ding Dong Dell; Belmare Moor Springs in my well.”
Notes:
‘*’ Ferensway is a major dual carriage way that sort of makes up one side of a pseudo ring road around downtown Hull. It is a surface street though, not a Motorway/Interstate Hwy (for US).
‘**’ PLA is/was a crazy system all attendees of boarding school become used to. It was a department of British Rail and now that the trains have been privatized, I have no clue what boarding students use to get their trunks to school. (Surely running an overladen luggage cart through a brick wall isn’t on the cards though). PLA stands for Passenger Luggage in Advance and it does go in advance it just gets there after you do. You ship it a week before you are traveling and it will arrive about a week after you get there. Its one useful function was to let professors know that you can’t give them the holiday work they assigned as, 'it is in the trunk' that hasn’t arrived yet. I always 'seemed' to forget to pack it in my suitcase, and they gave up in punishing me for doing so. Sometimes they even forgot to request it when the trunks surely had finally arrived.
‘***’ I don’t know if it was official policy or the local Yorkshire men that came up with this idea, but during World War II they went around the Moors and deliberately twisted the road signs to point the wrong ways. If you try to use road signs you will go in circles. They did it in case the Germans got into the country they would have a hard time driving in the Moors. They never explained why the Germans would be interested in invading the Moors though. It has been quite a few years since I was last on the Moors relying on the road signs (thank you GPS), but it wasn’t fixed then, and I expect it still isn’t.
‘^’ high-tea a small snack provided to children to stop them getting hungry when dinner is going to be served late.
Grandma stood in front of the now uncovered well and said. “Ding Dong Dell; Belmare Moor Springs in my well.”
Well thankfully my concern we were going to leap into the shit filled well was unfounded...
...as an archway rose and expanded out of the well in the same sparkling stone work that the sides of the well were constructed of in my nightmare recollections of being stuck down there. Flagstone pavers ran through the archway covering the well opening.
The other side of the archway was a stone room. That is a room constructed of solid grey stone blocks that looked as much in agreement to the glass sided greenhouse we were stood in on this side of the archway as is seen at the edge of a snow fall on the Sahara. Whereas looking around the arch the rest of the greenhouse and beyond garden and rear wooden fence were in evidence what was through the archway was not Grandma’s greenhouse.
“What the he…
Quickly stopping swearing I interrupted myself. “Nursery rhymes are spells?”
“That one is a cantrip. Think of it as a shortcut, and yes there is power in shared repetition. It lets me harness the course foundation this spell uses. Course isn’t the foundation my magic is founded on…
“Anyway now’s not the time to go into the foundations of magic. Quickly Tegan, there will be other students returning to Belmare Moor this evening, we can’t hold their Well Spring too long.” Grandma almost pushed me through the archway. I stumbled through while steadying my suitcase before I knocked it into the stones of the archway we passed beneath; and yes, the words ‘Well Spring’ were spoken with obvious capitals.
The other side was an octagon stonewalled enclosed room without window. There was a pair of open doors in one of the eight sides. Flames burned from torches in sconces that provided the flickering lighting. With Grandma joining me beside the wall, the archway folded into a fountain within a circular pond. The fountain was playing; a jet of clear water rose into the air and fell into the top smallest circular basin. Water was overfilling the three stone circular basins. The top basin having the smallest diameter caused a ring-shaped curtain of water to fall into the larger diameter basin beneath. If you included the circular pond as a fourth bowl of water, then thrice the circular curtain of water fell into a greater basin beneath.
“Tegan, don’t you dare mess with Belmare Moor’s Well Spring!” Grandma exclaimed, and I could here the capitals of each of those four words as before. I mumbled to myself, “The BMWS is strong in this one.” She hurried me through the pair of huge wooden arched doors and we were in my school’s staffroom. Grandma was not even smirking at what I knew she’d heard me say.
The usually closed oriental style wooden wardrobe was open. Its doors were smaller mirror images of the stone chamber’s ones. The fountain room looked smaller looking back through the wardrobe into it and the fountain proceeded to fold itself into an archway once more. Recalling that the bottom of the cupboard doors usually were just below waist height and that there should be drawers and the open stand below made a secondary image superimpose on the prior making the fountain room even smaller and creating a near three-foot step out of it into the staff room.
“Tegan!” Grandma’s yell caused me to shift my attention allowing the entrance of the re-enlarged fountain room to line up with the staff room floor once more.
“Misses Goss, so this is Tegan. Tegan, we’ve set you up in the fifth years’ ‘Seagull’ dorm, as they have a spare bed that neither the third years’ ‘Fire Escape One and Two’ nor fourth years’ ‘Fame’ dorms have. Well that is if Misses Goss is correct on your pillar.”
I was trying to get a handle on why my school’s staffroom had some kind of magic portal room in its oriental wardrobe. I mean as I couldn’t do magic until I became closer to being a girl and only girls could be witches one would expect a magic school to be all girls like my sister’s. This school seemed to know about magic. My headmistress Misses White carried on talking whilst I was thinking how strange it was that we all called our headmistress a witch and she just might be one.
Even with those distractions I didn’t miss the importance of ‘my pillar’ and that it was the right one. I added it to the earlier foundation of magic being the wrong one. Obviously there were different foundations and pillars of magic. As long as the words weren’t arbitrary it would appear there were different methods to magic which sure beat Grandma’s demand ‘to keep looking at a blank page until you learn something, Tegan!’ that must have been due to the time crunch to not actually be taught in a more usual fashion.
I was pulled from my musing when my Grandma proudly exclaimed. “Most Wood witches are Decay pillar, with secondaries of either Battle or Blaze. It’s why there’s never been a Wood witch at Belmare Moor…
“Hi, Miss Myles, nice half term?” My headmistress greeted Sharon, a second form girl that was trying to not look curious standing within the cabinet’s opening into the staff room. “Hurry up, out of the receiving room. You’re holding the Well Spring.” The pregnant silence as Sharon crossed the room to the staff room’s exit was so loud it was deafening.
As the door finally closed, Misses White strode to the phone. “Fiona, can you cover the staff room I have a new student and their guardian I need to take to my office?” Replacing the phone she turned to us as I saw the fountain folding into an arch once more for the next witch my school apparently hid. “We will continue this conversation in my office.”
Beatrice Walker was the next girl to step into the staff room. I, like almost every boy in the school had a major crush on the fifth year prefect. She looked at me inquisitively then nodded to Misses White before seeing my Grandma.
“Misses Goss, are you here to accept my family's terms?” Beatrice inquired while I was probably gormlessly staring, rather stunned she knew my Grandma and wondering how to leverage that to getting a shot at her. “A third witch and a drone is fair for the Wood coven.”
“I am sorry Miss Walker; Thomas has been pulled from Belmare…
“My Mother had right of first refusal to counter…
“Miss Walker, please meet Tegan. She is family. Sometimes family trumps even still open formal offers.”
Beatrice glared at me, causing me to take a step back. Before I could ask what the hell everyone was talking about Beatrice whirled around and exited the staffroom not quite slamming the door. I was still trying to think what to ask when the door timidly re-opened. Not as I thought for an apologetic Beatrice to return, but for the Latin teacher, Misses Mills to enter.
“Yes, well let’s head to my office to confirm... before we cause any more issues for this half term.” Misses White tried to fill the prior silence that had tamed the earlier pregnant one. “Fiona, thanks for covering. I wouldn’t have asked, but this is critical.” She then gestured us to follow.
I had never been in the headmistress’s office before. Two of the four large rope sash windows, each hung on their two ropes, were partially opened and allowing a gentle breeze to enter from the sixth form terrace behind. Beyond the terrace wall, a sliver of the sloped sundial lawn was visible prior to the girls’ tennis courts and forest after. Beyond the forest of this dell unseen the moor began its apparent endless carpeting of the rolling land. The sun dial and most of sundial lawn couldn’t be seen of course as it was hidden by the ten or so foot drop beyond this side of the terrace low wall.
Within the office chunky solid teak furniture failed in dwarfing the tiled floor room. The expanse of bared floor before her desk made it obvious you weren’t welcome in visiting the headmistress. She would be sat on her throne behind her defensive desk barrier. The ‘guest’ chairs, if they were for guests were haphazardly placed between the bookshelves that stood out from the walls more than the chairs in their solid, but failing attempt to dominate the huge room. The failure being in the huge open expanse of tiled flooring that the large furniture was unable to encroach upon. Heck you could probably allow twenty or so couples to hold a ball in the open space.
The headmistress muttered something about releasing the veil and spread her arms wide and the abstract tiled floor flowed as if made of water. The reason for the needed huge expanse suddenly apparent as a fifteen or so odd footed circle centered within a thirty-five foot diameter circle appeared. Within the smaller circle a pentagram appeared in the middle, the points of its star touching the inner circle. Then words appeared between the two circles, first at the points of the star. ‘Wood’ was at twelve o’clock if the point, pointing toward the headmistress desk was the top of the diagram.
My pondering if these were names of the five covens was dashed as the subsequent points going around clockwise from ‘Wood’, were ‘Course’, ‘Zephyr’, ‘Ore’ and ‘Irradiance’. I was interrupted in trying to interpret the rest by Misses White.
“Tegan, leave your suitcase here and stand in the very center pentagon, of the pentagram. Then we can find your pillars, foundations and work out why you’re joining our school so late.” I looked at Grandma and getting from her, a go on gesture and an unworried nod I decided not to argue. Thus emboldened I entered the pentagram, hoping I wasn’t about to be sacrificed to some demon. Hey it was a valid concern. Numerous words were written just within the circumference of the outer circle and the ones to either side of the twelve O’clock position were ‘Demonology’ and ‘Necromancy’ If those were Misses White’s most important as they were closest to her desk then I wasn’t too happy following her orders. I turned and started looking at what some of the other words said.
“Face the top, Tegan.” When I turned to face ‘Wood’ and incidentally the ‘Demonology’ and ‘Necromancy’ words beyond that I was most concerned about, and didn’t get any further correction I was glad that at least I’d worked out the orientation correctly. I mean it’s a flippin’ circle and all the words appear right side up when facing them from the center of it. How the hell is there a bloody top to it?
“Tegan, relax and let the magic flow through you.” Initially I wondered how I was supposed to relax on demand while standing in the headmistress’s office, a place I expected only kids in trouble usually ventured. I had been on a roller-coaster of emotions since yesterday that hadn’t let up in its dipping and swerving consistency. For everything I seemed to learn I unearthed a thousand more troubling questions. I had no idea how I was supposed to let magic flow through me, and whether I wanted to let it, when I worked out how to do so anyway. Needless to say I was about as relaxed as a startled deer facing hi-beams on a motorway at night, and likely about to face the same thing as said deer in such a situation would. My heart was pounding up my throat. Sweat seemed to be jumping ship prior to said collision. My mind was screaming at me to get the hell out of the middle of the f’ing ritual circle.
Have you ever been doing nothing and a hum seems to appear within your ears when there is no sound. The hum becomes a buzz with a sudden shift of frequency and it feels like pressure is building within your ears before there is suddenly a pop, often imagined rather than heard, and you return to the silence that had always been around you, whilst you had lived through noise and pressure that if it existed, did so due to your body creating it. Well imagine that but not within just your ears.
The buzzing is heard within your toes, finger nails the tips of your hair, but it doesn’t stop. There’s no pop and release it just keeps building. Then while it is occurring in your illusioned genitals and you’re worried of sporting a boner and wondering if the illusion will still cover it, you seem to have one within your none existent illusionary female genitals and your nipples become rock hard. They have no illusion to hide their occurrence and you’re sure both older women can see your new female chest ornaments protruding from the overly tight clothing that seems designed to show them off. The pop, when it occurs, is thankfully and annoyingly just before you are sure you would experience the usual male orgasm along with the ‘La Petite Mort’ of a still not experienced female, mind blowing one.
The word ‘Wood’ before me is nearly blindingly shining in front of the top point of the star that I initially don’t count the word within a Greek Corinthian style column that says ‘Blaze’ glowing to the left of me. It’s only when I notice that the word ‘Life’ in a Doric style Greek column that was as close to the middle space of star points ‘Wood’ and ‘Course’ as the word ‘Blaze’ was to ‘Wood’ and ‘Irradiance’ that I realized ‘Blaze’ had a muted glow that was its own, and not caused by the brightly glowing ‘Wood’.
This was concerning as the pillar titled ‘Blaze’ had three lines like radians pointing to three words along the inner circumference of the outer circle. One of those words was the Demonology I’d been worried about entering the pentagram for.
“See I was right Decay pillar on a primary Wood foundation. Tegan also has a secondary Zephyr foundation and a potential secondary pillar of Blaze.” My grandma interrupted my musing. Turning I saw there were two more glowing words behind me. Inside the Tuscan style pillar with an unreadable word that was directly at the six O’clock position and actually couldn’t be read anymore as it was irradiating brighter than ‘Wood’ was. Beyond the point of the star pointing just before five O’clock was the word ‘Zephyr’ that glowed a bit more than the word ‘Blaze’ was doing on the opposite side of the circle from it.
The line that ran from star point “Wood’ to star point ‘Zephyr’ was bright silver. Three of the other four lines creating the pentagram were still the original black. The fifth line that ran from the points ‘Wood’ to ‘Ore’ was grayish. It became closer to silver at the end closer to the ‘Wood’ point of the star.
Studying the Tuscan pillar that was at the base of the floor art, I found it to have, like the Blaze titled Corinthian column, three lines heading to the inside of the Outside circle. Each ended in a word but only one made much sense. ‘Hex’ the word on my right, that would be moving toward the seven O’clock if looking from outside the circle, likely dealt with hexes and curses but what ‘Gab’ at the six O’clock position and ‘Chrysalis’ heading toward five O’clock meant had me drawing a blank.
“Tegan come here and pull your blouse out of the skirt at the front.” My Grandma interrupted my next attempt to study the pentagram in more detail. She then pulled my blouse up as I hadn’t done so and touched my navel piecing. “One week should be good enough. When you get into your dorm get a shower and then change into your lilac crop top that shows off your navel.” She then mumbled something about veil that I wasn’t able to catch as she spoke so fast. Or more likely, it was I that even while trying to concentrate on the spoken words seemed to get distracted and unable to hear her words. I felt a tingle on my belly, and looking at my navel, I found the jewelry was changed.
Though it still had three gold chains dangling beneath, the stone had changed. Instead of the round amethyst there was a marquis cut stone that seemed to have orange, pink and yellow hues to it. The marquis cut stone was vertically oriented and the gold mounting had writing the letters were hard to read. Hard to read except for five that were several fonts larger. The larger letters were like old books that capitalized the first letter of a new chapter. Around the edge of the mounting each word’s first letter was made of the significantly larger font.
“Perfect, so she is enrolled?” The headmistress inquired.
“Yes, she will be on correspondent course for this Winter Solstice taking her third year trials on the three subjects of Decay’s pillar at Gwithial Ylt. She can use four of your subjects for the other choices.”
“Perfect, Tegan you are not allowed to speak of Gwithial Ylt to anyone that has not attended there, which for you is great as you actually haven’t seen it, so have no reason to talk about it. Wear the top you’re Grandma stated and you will appear to inform to all that you passed the third year trials Magna Cum Laude. They will assume you took them early, when you will actually be taking them late.”
My Grandma agreed. “Yes, ensure it is covered all of next Tuesday’s evening so no one sees it change when my illusion ends. Per the requirements of your other school you are not allowed to talk about it so if someone comments that you changed the piercing, do not say anything to confirm or deny making any change. Don’t lie Tegan, hopefully you’ve learnt that you only lie when you know what you are doing. You can’t get in trouble if you just refuse to talk about something and let them assume whatever they want.”
I frowned but didn’t really want to say anything as though it seemed my headmistress knew all, I felt less humiliated if I didn’t confirm she knew.
“Oh, and you need to study hard as in just a bit over six months you have your third year trials on seven subjects you should have studied for three years. Gwithial Ylt has a stricter pass criteria of about the top third verses Belmare Moore’s nearly half the third years.”*
While I was wrapping my head around the bomb my Grandma just dropped on me my headmistress ensured I had enough to worry about. “Tegan, you can’t just pass the trials. You’re letting everyone know you passed them Magna Cum Laude. Thus you need to be in the top five percent to not be lying.”
“Grandma, why didn’t you just give me the standard passing one?” I asked annoyed.
“Gwithial Ylt requires you to pass at this level to allow for them to accept you late in their correspondent course. Be thankful I didn’t give you Summa Cum Laude’s stone instead of the Padparadscha sapphire** you’re currently wearing. I considered to force you to aim for the top three percent and thus ensure you definitely meet their requirement.” Was my Grandma’s unhelpful reply to my query. It also made me wonder if the school’s actual requirement was lower than the one she had told me. Maybe I only needed to pass and by forcing me to think I needed to meet top five percent of students she got me aiming higher than needed.
“We also need to address why you chose to transfer here. The easiest is you want to specialize in the Life and Illusion pillars, as those are Belmare Moor’s specialty and you would have stayed at Gwithial Ylt if you wanted to specialize in Decay, Battle or even Blaze.” Misses White changed the conversation. “It also would explain why you don’t know much magic in them as obviously you didn’t study those subjects at your prior school.”
“I need to understand how magic works too. I mean I can’t be surprised when a well turns into a portal like how we got to school. Grandma you said you would explain more about cantrips, why nursery rhymes work the way they do, and stuff?” I tried to get a better understanding so I didn’t feel lost, confused and generally well... like my question fizzled into not knowing what to say, so did my thoughts.
“That is actually a good idea. A cantrip is a shortcut or crutch for using a foundation that you don’t have natural talent in.” My Grandma began and indicated I should sit in the chair beside her. “I like you have ‘Wood’ as my primary foundation and when witches were seen using trees as portals the legends of dryads were born. Similarly ‘Course’ witches were the birth of stories on naiads, mermaids and selkie. ‘
Grandma took a breath and before I could interrupt and ask questions continued. “Of course the male dominated none magical society would associate animals, monsters or men in place of the witches they’d seen. Case in point the best known legend of an ‘Ore’ witch birthed both the tales of an ‘effeminate man’ known as the pied piper and the vicious criminal harlequin, and the whole confusion of angels being effeminate male or female. Angels would actually be tales spawned from seeing ‘Irradiance’ witches.”
The headmistress interrupted. “We don’t have time for this. You will have to initially come off as a cold aloof snob that looks down on Belmare’s students, so as to not say anything that shows your lack of knowledge. I will assign detentions against your poor social behavior to provide some time for you to meet your Grandma, and myself. I will give you books charmed to be legible only to you, so others think your studying magic far beyond them. Ignore teacher’s questions, I will have prepared them that I am handling your detentions. Oh, and as you already have created an enemy I’ll call that prefect to show you around. Ignore her, and look down on her.“
My Grandma grabbed my hand “Tegan, no matter what she asks about Thomas and contracts, ignore her or tell her, that her Mother must talk about that with Misses Goss. Don’t refer to me as your Grandma. Don’t ask her anything…
“Due to what Beatrice assumed earlier she would have to at least respond to an inquiry on where Thomas is now going to school. Failing not to would allow a feud to be declared. When it didn’t take it would bring your house of cards down.” The headmistress became increasingly more agitated. “What can she say and not lie? I was unaware of the formal contract when I agreed to this, Brin.”
My Grandma got up and started to pace. Her frown stopped me from bugging her on what her business with Beatrice and the prefect’s family was about. I wasn’t stupid to not know it clearly involved me, and I tried hard to think what it could mean other than what it appeared to tell.
My Grandma started laughing. “We’re making this harder than it needs to be. Tegan, listen you need to repeat this verbatim. No adding words at all.” My Grandma actually waited until she had got me to verbally acknowledge I understood. Not accepting my nod, as a good enough answer.
“Tegan, use this only If Beatrice asks. Ignore anyone else as if the words weren’t spoken. But, If Beatrice asks where Thomas is, you reply. ‘Thomas has been enrolled in Sexey’s School near Lusty Hill, Somerset,’ Note you never volunteer or talk about it under any other question as you don’t want to lie.”
“But, Grandma if I say that it means I am lying…
“No Tegan, witches are steeped in tradition and this is a formal way of telling Beatrice to fuck off.” I gasped, I mean when my Dad accidently hits himself with the hammer I’ve heard him swear, but I never thought I would witness it from my Grandma even if she did something more painful to herself by accident. “Remember, it is only said if Beatrice asks specifically where Thomas is. For any other question about Thomas from her you tell her to have her Mother talk to Misses Goss. To anyone else you need to be a stuck up bitch. Everyone here including the teachers, you consider below you.”
“She can’t behave that way to the Gwithial Ylt alumni on staff.” The headmistress said as the only challenge to the instructions my Grandma had given me. I was busy pinching myself as I am in a room with the headmistress, and Grandma is telling me to be rude and disrespectful to her staff.
“So Tegan, there are four exceptions that require you to be polite they are your Headmistress, Misses White, the two teachers Miss Hodges and Misses Fitzpatrick, and lastly the head of the girls’ dorms, Dame Martin. Don’t talk about magic. Oh, yes remember the boys and men here do not know about magic.”
Notes:
*Passing criteria for both schools and the allowed stone to signify achievement
Gwithial Ylt pass ratings for third year trials:
Pass – Approx top third of class
Cum Laude – Top thirteen percent of class – Imperial Topaz
Magna Cum Laude – Top five percent of class - Padparadscha Sapphire
Summa Cum Laude – Top three percent of class – Trapiche Emerald
Belmare Moor pass ratings for third year trials:
Pass – Approx top half of class
Cum Laude – Top twenty percent of class - Topaz
Magna Cum Laude – Top thirteen percent of class – Blue Sapphire
Summa Cum Laude – Top five percent of class - Emerald
Gwithial Ylt pass ratings for seventh year trials:
Pass – Approx top two thirds of class
Honores Excelsis – Top thirteen percent of class - Pink Star Ruby
Honoribus Summum – Top five percent of class - Diamond
Belmare Moor pass ratings for seventh year trials:
Pass – Approx top two thirds of class
Honores Excelsis – Top twenty percent of class - Ruby
Honoribus Summum – Top five percent of class - Diamond
Imperial Topaz are golden orange yellow vs. the clear or cloudy light blue of standard stones
**Padparadscha Sapphire has a distinctive blend of orange, pink and yellow tones within the stone
Trapiche Emeralds have a six pointed radial pattern within the gem
I was trying to memorize the twenty words around the circumference of the outer circle when the floor flowed back into an abstract tiled design as it was when we first arrived. I became aware that my Grandma was hugging me tightly and her eyes looked strange. Was that fear or was she worried I would cause more problems. Yes, the problem maker that must be it. Of course she expects me to break some school rule and get expelled.
“Tegan, don’t let any boy touch your navel piercing.” Grandma said. ‘As if!’ No boy is getting anywhere bloody near me, I thought.
“That’s too much. The younger girls might not know…
“Dorothy, there is no reason for a younger girl to be around her, and they would ask, and be told not to. Boys though, you know they rarely ask.”
The Headmistress seemed to almost hiss. “Fine!” she growled out. “Tegan don’t let anyone touch your bling. If you deliberately cause a student major bodily harm I’ll expel you.”
My Grandma and the Headmistress were in a staring match and I’m left wondering on the dichotomous sentences. After the Headmistress seems to defer, my Grandma turns back to me and says. “Oh, also before I forget Tegan. Tegan Allana Lesley Wehl’s fourteenth birthday was yesterday, June second. Happy belated birthday…
“Grandma my birth…
“No Tegan, Thomas’s birthday was last year on November fourteenth. Please tell me your fourteenth birthday was yesterday, and thank me for wishing you a belated happy birthday.” My Grandma quickly stopped my interruption. Obviously this, like owning my name, was important. When she would decide to clue me in on why it was important was anyone’s guess. Well I better use my full name.
Trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, I went ahead with the latest lie needed to be a dagger to cut through a prior truth. “I am Tegan Allana Lesley Wehl, and my fourteenth birthday was yesterday June second. I thank you Grandma, for wishing me happy birthday for yesterday.”
“Oh, Tegan Allana Lesley Wehl, I wish you belated happy returns for your fourteenth birthday, that was yesterday on June second.” My headmistress stated in a perfectly normal voice. How she could say it without a hint of sarcasm or trace of jest was beyond me.
That reinforced how important this must be. Especially as my Grandma gave a go on gesture toward me, so I realized I needed to obviously reinforce the lie some more. I had difficulty keeping all the sarcasm dripping out the second time I quoted my full name and apparent birthday. While thanking my headmistress for remembering it, and offering me belated returns, a few drops sneaked out.
“Next time young lady, keep the attitude out of thanking someone that is doing you a huge favor. I am sorry Dorothy for Tegan’s lack of manners, and hope you can teach the tomboy, how a young lady should behave.”
“Think nothing of it Brin. Tegan may be a rough stone, but I will ensure adequate polishing is applied to allow a young lady that can be accepted in society’s highest courts, and hallowed halls, graduates from Bellmare Moor.” Misses White, told my Grandma. Her eyes promising I wouldn’t enjoy the needed polishing to remove any unwanted rough edges. “Anyway Beatrice Walker will be here shortly. Remember, nothing mentioned about Gwithial Ylt, magic, the third year’s trial or Thomas and any of your relations. Except of course the one question on where Thomas is, when asked by Beatrice only.”
My Grandma then spoke. “Refer to me as Misses Goss, and just take this bag. I packed it while you were busy. It has your change of clothes I want you to wear this evening and toiletries for your shower. You don’t need to lug a suitcase around while being given the school tour. This is your first day at Bellmare and you will need the fifth year prefect to show you the school.” My Grandma informed me this while I was still worrying over the headmistress’s desire to polish away my rough edges. I accepted the bag as a knock on the door happened.
“Come in,” Misses White called out while taking her seat behind the monstrous desk. “Oh, and here is the fifth-year prefect, Miss Walker. Beatrice this is Tegan. She will be with you in Seagull dorm. Could you give her a tour of the school’s library, assembly, dining and the three female recreation rooms? Wrap up by ending the tour with Seagull.”
Misses White then turned to me. “Tegan follow Miss Walker. She will get you settled in at Bellmare Moor.”
I noted how she had twice given Miss Walker’s last name and not mine and recalled how I was not to offer any information. It would seem that included my last name too. Well I assumed so when coupled with how my Grandma had wanted me to not let out being closely related. Not wanting to give anything away I figured I would be mute, but for the one question. Hopefully, I would work things out before I gave myself away. Now, I had another question to add to the millions or so I’d already collected. Why was I being placed in the fifth year girl’s dormitory?
“Come on, let’s get started, follow me, and I’ll show you our school.” Beatrice briskly turned back to the door, and re-opened it. The fifth-year prefect was a blond bombshell with all the right curves and the subject of numerous prior wet dreams of mine, I must confess. Now for unknown reasons, I get to share a room with her. Magic was soooo good! I thought mentally giving myself a high five.
Well that was what I’d initially thought I would be thinking when informed who was going to be showing me around. Then the reality that she was somehow an enemy and the undercurrent that something was fishy in Denmark had destroyed that hot fantasy along with the side of I no longer looked like a boy. Sure as long as my eyes were closed and mirrors weren’t around to reflect my new image I still thought myself a boy. I thought that until I felt my small but far too large breasts move within their captive bra cups, or the swish of my skirt upon my newly hairless legs. It’s sad how easy a dream can turn into a nightmare.
I saw my Grandma and headmistress turn toward each other, to obviously discuss me once I was gone. I wondered how I could stay and ask more questions, but Beatrice was scowling at me, holding the door, and waiting me to follow. Seeing as she was in casual clothes and we only had to wear school uniform outside school hours, while traveling to and from school, I shrugged off my Blazer. It had the added benefit of making Beatrice wait, holding the door open for me until I’d dropped the blazer on a chair.
As I considered working out how to undo the ribbon bow tied around my neck I saw her open her mouth. I guess the ribbon could wait. Beatrice closed her mouth when I headed toward the exit. Seeing I was coming, she stiffly turned and left the room, not holding the door for me. Meaning I had to catch it as it swung closed and reopen it to exit the office.
The black and white tile floor of the manor house hall had warped and sunk in places over its centuries of life. The hall widened at the staffrooms exit due to the stairs that ran back toward the front of the manor house ending, allowing the rest of the hall running to the sixth form terrace at the rear of the building to be a triple wide hallway.
“We use last names or nicknames. What’s your last name?” Beatrice said from the far side of the wide section on the hallway.
Well as I was clueless what I was supposed to say and obviously not wanting to lie I just looked at her. When she folded her arms in front of her chest, likely not liking where I was looking, I smirked and leaned against the wall beside the headmistress’s doorway. Hopefully she would give up and start showing me the females sections of the school. I knew where they were, but it would be nice to actually see the inside of them. Of course I already knew what the library, dining and assembly hall looked like inside as they were used by both boys and girls. I just needed to be shown where they were located so I could let people know I knew where they were and how they looked.
“Your last name will be found out and I’ll make sure to ensure the worst possible nickname is associated with you!” Beatrice decided to offer as an incentive to get me to talk. “Are you dumb?” She then asked as I just smirked at her.
“Why the hell would Thomas, chose you!” Beatrice screamed.
Well that seemed to confirm the horrible suspicion I had been getting about why I had been enrolled in this school. The annoying thing is if I challenge Grandma about it, I can hear her now saying I was given a choice between this school and an all boys’ boarding school. It would seem that Grandma stacked the deck to ensure the correct choice is made. I twisted away angry that I found her beautiful, and annoyed my Grandma had apparently been arranging a marriage with her mother. I was trying to work out why I was angry about something I would have wanted.
“Come on Dumbo!” Beatrice growled turning toward one of the four doors opposite the headmistress office. I didn’t really need to see one of the three music rooms, nor the ‘L’ shaped library that wrapped around them. I was more interested in the door next to the main stair case that led to one of the three girls’ rec rooms, but I didn’t even want to turn back to face her again which was needed to get there. Petty, but to keep my back to her I really only had two choices. Not wanting to return to the Headmistress’s office I walked to the glassed porch that led to the rear door and steps down onto the sixth form terrace.
“You can’t go out onto the sixth form terrace until next year, Dumbo.”
Obviously with me being added to the fifth form girls’ dorm she thought I was in the fifth form like herself. Unfortunately classes tomorrow would end that fallacy. It would save me some grief tonight though if I let her continue with the wrong assumption though. After looking through the glass windows of the exit porch and door I deliberately ignored her. It seemed to be really ticking her off. I also knew that I would have a better chance of not getting ‘Dumbo’ for nickname if I didn’t let her think it bothered me.
“Dumbo, the music rooms are over here. I have been told to show you around, and I don’t want Ma White to have reason to get cross. You’d be wise to not cause problems. Being new you will need allies even if you don’t have the worry of third year trials, you should know witches are still known to go ‘missing’ even if it’s individuals verses the culling of the weaker pre-fifteen year olds. Accidents can still happen, and I’m sure my Mother will allow Misses Goss a drone for the resurrected contract, once you are out of the picture…
I couldn’t help but start laughing. I mean with me out of the picture, there would be no Thomas for her to get engaged to. To think before I’d have thought I’d won something amazing if I’d known I was getting her as a girlfriend. Now with the demeaning ‘drone’ name I wanted nothing to do with her. I was also a little nervous as to the choice of words like culling and the Rawcliffs sales associate’s death rate question earlier today made the third year witches’ trials appear to be extremely sinister. When Grandma stated only a third of Gwithial Ylt passed, she’d never mentioned that two thirds failed. I’d assumed that and I was noticing that it seemed witches avoided lying and offering information by getting the other person to make incorrect assumptions.
The laughing annoyed Beatrice no end. I thought better of using the sixth form terrace, as that would yield power to Beatrice, and my laughing allowed me to feel justified walking back toward her. Then to carry on looking down on her I past her and the music and library doors and opened the door at the base of the main staircase opposite the staff room door. The door I had always been curious to enter.
Walking into one of the girl’s rec room I released the door as she had done to me earlier and entered the room. There were several groups of girls clustered around. They all stopped talking and stared at me. I ignored them and strode toward the opposite door I’d seen upon my entry that likely led to the next girl’s rec room. I figured they would chalk it up to me pretending to act as if I was supposed to be there and knew where I was going, which I sort of was as I had never been in these rooms.
I was opening the second door when I heard Beatrice call out to me from behind in frustration. Obviously the worry of not doing as she was told competed with her likely desire to let me fend on my own. I guessed the first rec room was the social meeting one as it had coffee tables sofas and arm chairs in several arrangements throughout. The next room was darker with no windows and its lights off. A TV blared out some advert, the chairs and sofas all arranged to face the right hand corner, where a large flat screen TV hung bathing the room in coloured light. The TV looked considerably larger than the boys’ one.
In the middle of the left hand wall of the room was a door likely to the third girls’ rec room. Ignoring the girls’ that queried who I was I wound my way around the chairs toward that door.
“Hey you’re the new girl from the staff room. What form are you?” Sharon asked getting up from a seat and stopping me from approaching the door. Turning I saw Beatrice arriving through the door I’d entered. There was a third door that likely led out to the stackyard, but I’d have to cross the rec room that had a dozen or more witches to pass to get to it. However, only the second year Sharon prevented me from gaining this closest exit.
“Way older than you, dreg!” I pushed Sharon back into her seat and made my exit leaving a fury of angry conversation behind me. Well Grandma and Ma White had say act a bitch. Mission accomplished, I think.
Entering the third rec room I saw a group of first years playing monopoly, and some primary children in the back corner playing another board game. A few older girls were playing cards. Likely Bloody Mary* seeing Christine’s bloody knuckles. Before any could call out to me I made the way to the door that most likely led back into the Library. I’d considered going through one of the veranda windows out onto sixth form terrace but thought that might be pushing my luck too far when it was found out I was third year. This door was also closer and by tipping over the unused card table before it, I’d likely buy myself some time.
“Fuck!” I heard Beatrice yell as the door was closing having been correct in destination as I entered the library. I considered running, but thought that would appear like I was scared so I walked across the library ignoring the girls and boys that called out at me, but knocking over chairs to hinder them trying to follow.
Behind there seemed to be several people hurrying after me. Thankfully I exited the library back into the original hallway before they caught up. Hearing some of the boys joining though I decided it was time to climb the main stairs. I wasn’t scared of the girls even if they were witches. I probably should be scared of them. I couldn’t stop myself of being scared shitless of the boys though, and knew I could put up a better false front as long as there were no boys ogling me.
I’d climbed the main staircase and got to the first half flight landing with view of the ‘stackyard’ and the stairs turned back on themselves. Of course I could now see three fifth form boys and a red faced Beatrice and even Sharon in the back behind Olivia, Amanda, Rachel and Lisa. More girls and a couple of younger boys were exiting the library too. Perhaps I had underestimated the reaction to my behavior. It looked like I kicked over an anthill, or knocked a beehive off a tree.
“Look Bitch, what the hell have you done to Thomas Wehl!” Beatrice yelled. I was wondering did that count as asking where he was? Murmuring about Thomas quickly spread amongst the crowd.
“Bea… itch, are you asking where Thomas Wehl is?” I figured as that was the only question, I could answer I should prompt her to ask it. Of course realizing I should probably not use her first name and she had called me a bitch I should likely do the same. I congratulated how the accident had come out seeming on purpose, making my curse so much better and personal than hers.
“Yes, skank you can’t refuse me that! You stuck up cow! Tell me where Thomas Wehl is!”
“Thomas has been enrolled in Sexey’s School near Lusty Hill, Somerset…
The shrill scream from Beatrice caused most of the congregated kids to jump. I am pretty sure I would have if I wasn’t frozen. As the scream rose in volume she tore up the stairs talons outstretched, and snarling. Facing an apparently mad woman, I suddenly felt way beyond scared. I’d never fought a girl and I think she planned to scratch my eyes out and tear my hair out at the same time. Panicking and once more I found myself frozen like I’d been yesterday at the salon. I needed to address this freezing under pure fear. I needed magic to push Beatrice back from climbing the stairs. Fall! I thought with every fiber of my being while swinging my arm up in preparation to defend myself. I was completely surprised that one, I had thought to move my arms, and two, they actually moved.
The far larger surprise though was I felt a surge leaving me and rushing toward my approaching nemesis, and pushing her left leg back down. It was only four inches of lost height, but those four inches made the top of her left foot be more than an inch below the lip of the stair. Her forward momentum of that foot ceased while the rest continued at her furious rate. The result, Beatrice tripped.
It was a long moment of time, but I could clearly see in her eyes that she knew I’d done it. I was fairly sure I had. However, even though I was only fairly sure, I knew Beatrice was certain it was me. In desperation she stretched out her arms toward me, and her right caught my blouse. Her fingers slipped between the buttons and her nails dug into the flesh beneath. That flesh, was my flesh.
I felt a horrendous tug as she twisted and started to slide back while falling forward. The lower buttons of my blouse popped off as the blouse was torn open. Her chin slammed into the top stair’s edge and blood poured from her mouth like an oil well first drilled.
Beatrice screamed, and threw something shiny from her right hand. Her right hand was burned badly and she cradled it in her left hand. I was thinking this was odd as with blood dripping from her mouth I would have thought she would be treating that as the place that hurt the most. However, it was her right hand that appeared to be causing her the most pain.
“Lisa don’t touch that!” Amanda yelled. “Only Gwithial Ylt alumni can touch that or you’ll be burned as badly as Beatrice’s hand was.”
“It’s a Padparadscha Sapphire, only the top five percent of third year trials are awarded Magna Cum Laude.” Olivia added.
I noticed that the shiny thing that Beatrice had thrown from her right hand was down at the bottom of the stairs, and all the girls were looking at it and then back at me. The gold chains with a pinky yellow stone looked like my naval piercing. That thought woke me to the pain from my stomach. Looking down I saw I was bleeding from where my navel piercing had been ripped out from me. Actually a fair amount of the spooling blood on the stairs was mine, not Beatrice’s.
“That’s mine!” I yelled in anger. Forgetting Beatrice, and my bleeding wound I quickly scrambled down, passing the screaming girl lying on the stairs. Without thinking just wanting to get my jewelry I stooped and picked it up. Then wondered why I was so concerned about not losing it, as I’d not wanted it in the first place. Further, considering it had been torn out, how I was supposed to put it back in? I was puzzled why it had enabled me to ignore the pain while worried it could be lost. Now with the pain returning I tried to pretend I felt none. Hopefully it would make me seem a bad ass. The boys would think it all an accident but judging by the fear in the girls’ eyes they thought I’d used magic to destroy Beatrice in this fight. That or they feared me due to thinking I was some big wig from a prominent school. Or it could be that I appeared to not feel pain.
“What is going on, out here?” The headmistress tore into the hallway out of her office and looked surprised to see so many people. “Tegan Allana Lesley, why am I not surprised you would be at the center of this. You’ve been on my school campus for less than an hour and already I have students bleeding, and my fifth year prefect badly injured. You have detention with me every evening this and the next two weeks, starting tonight, right after dinner.”
At her comment I looked and saw how badly I'd injured Beatrice. Now I realized the whole 'don't let anyone touch the bling followed by if you severely injure a student you will be expelled'. I was going to be expelled! As soon as she knows Beatrice touched it… What the fuck was my Grandma thinking causing my jewelry to do that to someone’s hand was my next thought.
I was brought out of my panicked thoughts as Ma White turned to the other kids across the hall. “Chris and Shawn return to your dorms until dinner time. Michael, John and Jordan tell a matron from the medical office and wait for dinner in your dorms. Boys you will not talk to anyone about this until a matron has talked to you in your dorms.” The boys nodded and walked off silently.
“Miss Myles, close the library door and keep it closed. Parade Calling.” She glared at the girls in the hallway until they organized themselves. Aside the second year Sharon stood beside the library door she’d been told to close, the two third years stood behind the five fourth years. Rachel Swanson, one of the two upper sixth girls, stood in front of the door to the girl’s rec room I’d first entered.
I was in front of the stairs where I’d picked my jewelry off the floor from, and Beatrice was lying on the stairs. Was I supposed to fall in at the back next to the two third years? I was afraid to cross past Misses White and the fourth years to get there, and I was wondering what my parents would say when they find out I’m expelled.
“Miss Swanson,ensure no one enters into the hallway.” The headmistress called out. Rachel cast a spell that caused all the doors to glow. I assumed the sixth year had locked or sealed all the doors into the entrance hallway.
“Did the boys witness magic?” Misses White asked the girls that were left. I was wondering why no one was offering healing spells to Beatrice or me. I mean surely the headmistress or Rachel knew some. The whole sending three boys to get the matron on duty was to get the boys out of the way wasn’t it? Were the matrons the only ones with healing magic?
“They’ll think Miss Walker tripped due to running up the stairs. Miss Lesley cast silent and with no visible spell elements. She was able to make minimal movement to cast and it looked as if she was preparing against a physical attack, not casting a hex.” Rachel stated.
It took me a moment to realize she meant me when she called out the name Miss Lesley. Rachel carried on so I had to quickly concentrate on what she said next. “Miss Wright’s comment to stop Miss Thompson grabbing Miss Lesley’s navel ring will confuse them and will need to be edited from their memories before they spread that Miss Lesley has jewelry that burns anyone else who touches it. Miss Young mentioned the third year trials, along with the facts about what a padparadscha sapphire means.
Rachel paused and after a moment continued her summary. “It is unclear if the comments are something that require editing with our own third year trials approaching. Miss Wright also named Gwithial Ylt, unclear if any of the five will recall mention of its name with everything else that occurred. That’s everything, Headmistress.”
“Miss Wright and Miss Thompson four night’s detention with Dame Martin, for exposure of magic to workers and drones.” Misses White said. Then when it looked like Lisa was about to complain that she hadn’t said anything, she added. “Or for the sheer stupidity for a fourth year nearly touching stuff that shouldn’t have had to be explained to them, to not touch.
“Miss Wright two more nights of detention for the near naming, and sanctioning is possible if any of the five are found to know the name you released. Miss Young a warning and it is your job to ensure no mention of the summer solstice’s third year trials is mentioned until they are completed.”
I twisted as I saw Beatrice struggling to stand in the corner of my eye. I moved so I could see her better and still face Misses White. She didn’t appear to be about to attack me thankfully, but I wasn’t going to stand with her behind me. Surprisingly she seemed to have stopped bleeding. With how fast she’d been bleeding before I expected her to need stiches before she would stop.
As no one rushed to help her I wondered if I was supposed to. I mean I hadn’t wanted to hurt her. I’d just wanted her to not hurt me. Why the hell was she not staying down until the matron arrived to heal her? She’d lost quite a lot of blood and her hand was blistering with peeling skin, it was so badly burned. I was feeling so guilty on how badly I’d caused her to be injured. Why had Grandma made my jewelry attack people?
“Miss Walker, you finally decided to stand before me. I’ve been here for several minutes and only have your punishment yet to deliver. I don’t think my fifth year prefect should be so pathetically weak. What do you think?”
“I am confident that I can maintain order and am the best; except one of the fifth year to fulfill all requirements of the fifth-year prefect.” She looked sullenly at me. “Miss Lesley, do you demand the fifth-year prefect spot?” She then asked me, obviously thinking my second middle name was my surname as Rachel had before.
I looked frantically at the headmistress who was glaring at me, was I supposed to accept it? Could I, a third year, be the fifth year girl’s prefect? Also I was going to be expelled once Ma White realises whay Beatrice's hand is burned. The headmistress, aside glaring at me, gave me no help in what she wanted me to say. Did the glare mean ‘don’t you dare accept the spot!’ or the reverse? Not trusting myself to speak, I shook my head in the negative and I felt I saw relief in the eyes of the headmistress for choosing correctly? I could be just hoping I saw that and had actually completely messed up though.
“Miss Walker, it seems you get to petition and apologize to me, for being allowed to keep your prefect spot.” Misses White declared. I was just thankful the force of her gaze was on Beatrice and not me anymore.
“I am sorry, Headmistress. It will not happen…
“You’re damn right it won’t. You’re on probation and Queen’s Champion to the one you acknowledge as your better, whom kindly deferred your lost position back to you.You have detention every evening with Miss Hodges through the end of term. I will decide over the summer if you will be allowed back for sixth year and if you will still be a prefect.”
“Thank you, Headmistress…
“Further, for instigating in front of drones and workers, and then losing an informal duel against a new student I had requested you provide orientation to, you will be sanctioned.” At the headmistress’s punishment a few gasps and murmers occured. They were quickly stifled as she turned and glared at the perpetrators that had interrupted her.“You can go to one of the attic punishment cells until I decide you can be healed and allowed to return to the hallowed.”
Beatrice curtsied and bowed her head into hands that were brought up to it. That must be painful as her right palm that was badly burned was lying on the back of her left hand. Her head was bent so her eyes would have been pointing at the floor if they weren’t lying on top of the back of her right hand. She stayed like that, stooped and not complaining over the burned skin. I was wondering if I was supposed to do that, but none of the other girls had when getting detentions issued. No one spoke so I stayed standing at attention like the rest.
“Be off with you Miss Walker.” Misses White finally said and Beatrice started climbing the stairs. “Miss Swanson after Parade Calling is finished, release the hold on the entrances and complete the orientation of the new student that Miss Walker failed to take care of. Everyone else I want all of you carry on as though nothing occurred.”
“Let me fix your bling for you as we are the only two here that can touch it.” The headmistress said holding out her hand to me. I’d forgot I was holding the jewelry in my hand and I numbly handed it over. Was I supposed to curtsey? Going on the principle that there was a delta between how one behaved when getting a detention verses a punishment I kept standing straight, and no one seemed to look like I was doing something wrong. Looks like I’d guessed right.
I didn’t catch the mumbled words, Misses White spoke. I did see a glow spread over my lower abdomen and finally the pain was removed. When she stepped back from me and turned toward Rachel I glanced down and saw that though my naval and lower blouse were a bloody mess I didn’t see torn skin as I had before. The three chains were once more dangling beneath the sapphire stone. Hopefully after I clean away the gore my naval will be completely healed.
“Miss Swanson, I recommend you show her the Seagull dorm she is assigned to, and the bathroom so she can get a shower and change. Then show her the laundry room so she can get her uniform fixed and cleaned for school tomorrow. Make sure every girl knows that touching other peoples jewelry can often lead to burned fingers.” Misses White then turned toward me and was scowling at me with pure anger. “If any boy gets that badly burned from your bling I will expel you. Hold out your hand." I did wondering if she was going to burn it as I had burned Beatrice's. Instead she dropped four buttons in it. "After you've washed your uniform and dried it, you'll need to sew those buttons back on.
"Oh, and one more thing. I don’t care how you behaved at your prior school, but here at Belmare Moor, you fall in with your form at attention, unless told otherwise, during a Parade Calling. You are not Miss Swanson’s senior. I am only not sanctioning you, as your guide, Miss Walker, failed to fall in. You, at least stood up, even if your deportment was no better than a groveling hag’s.”
“As you were ladies.” The headmistress looked over everyone and then swept back into her office.
* Bloody Mary is a card game where the loser is the one left with the Queen of Spades. The loser then cuts the deck and all other players use the deck of cards to hit the loser's knuckles the number of times on the cut deck.
Having assigned detentions, sanctioned the fifth year prefect and threatened Tegan with expulsion after she'd been at the school for barely an hour. Ma White sweeps back off into her office leaving Tegan with hundreds of questions and several punished girls that might want a pound of Tegan's flesh.
Rachel said a phrase that included mention to unbind all locks and seals. She then turned to me. “Miss Lesley, are you willing to let me show you the location of the Seagull dormitory and floor bathroom?”
“I would like that Miss Swanson.” I mean I know they told me to be rude, but I had an upper sixth year just defer in whether I planned to allow her to do what the headmistress had recommended she should do. The headmistress had been polite to Rachel too.
Then please follow me, Miss Lesley.” She turned and after mumbling something about scour and expunge the spilled lives’ flow. The bloody mess covering the stairs seemed to vanish as we passed by. Rachel continued to climb the stairs. I followed but got distracted at the mid flight landing by how much higher the view from the window was when stood on the landing verses when stood lower or looking up at it from outside the manor house. I could see the whole stackyard and surrounding buildings and seemed to be looking down from about twenty or more feet up, not the ten or less feet of height I’d actually climbed.
The stackyard was a walled in cobble stone courtyard contained by two carriage houses and the stables on the far north side and the east and west wings, that were classrooms. “Come on Miss Lesley, three more half flights to go.” Rachel chivied me to stop looking through the flimsy net that covered the glass window.
Four half flights climbed had us arriving on the main landing of the second floor, a narrow staircase continued to the gables where the first and second year girls’ attic dormitories were located. Also, apparently the punishment rooms for those girls that were being ‘Sanctioned’ which would now be where Beatrice was located. Would she be alright not being healed? What was the whole deal of being allowed to return to the hallowed, and queen’s champion about to?
“This is the bathroom for third through fifth year girls.” Beatrice opened a door to the left of the stairs we had just come up and I found six sinks with mirrors running down the left-hand side then five cubicles with loos before a bubbled glass window with pale pink curtains. Running back on the other side the five cubicles provided two more loos, and three showers. There were then two bath alcoves with the old iron footed bath tubs, each alcove opposite three wash basin sinks.
“The two front dorms are for the third years. The dorms have a staircase in the middle of them that is a fire-escape if the main stairs are blocked. In one flight they open into the tennis pavilion. Obviously, they can only be used during emergencies.” She looked at me as if she thought I would be using one as soon as her back was turned. “That door is the fifth year prefect’s bathroom. The Triumvirate also use it. I will not be happy if I must step in to fix any power play is the only warning I’m giving. That, and I’m not impressed with your act downstairs.”
Rachel glared at me, waiting on me to say something. Did she expect me to say it was now my private bathroom or something? “There’s an external fire-escape outside the fourth years ‘Fame’ dorm. And those two rooms are for two of the matrons. Lastly here is your dorm.” It would be on the rear of the second floor like the prefect’s bathroom, and Fame dorm.
Rachel finally gave up on waiting me to say something and continued. “After you’ve finished getting changed, knock on my room’s door. It is one flight below you and will be the second corridor on your right after you come down the main staircase. It’s the third door on the left of that corridor. I will then show you the laundry room and the dining hall.”
“Thanks, I will be with you quickly.”
“Make your bed, first as with having detention after dinner you won’t have time to do that before lights out.” Rachel countered then promptly left me on the landing. I decided to use the regular floor bathroom. I’d looked in the prefect’s bathroom and seen it had one large bath, two showers and loos and four wash basins. There were also four medicine cabinets beside each sink. It looked like it was setup perfectly for four girls. Assuming ‘Triumvirate’ meant three girls then I guess Rachel is expecting some war over which four girls use this bathroom. Well I aimed to disappoint her.
Having finished dressing myself in the way too girly outfit my Grandma had provided me I looked around the dorm. There were four bunk beds alternating with four windows overlooking the sixth-form terrace on one side, and four more bunk beds with four dressers on the interior of the dorm. Under each window was a dresser. Due to the mirrors only the four top bunks had an unobstructed view out the window and as all four were available, I chose one of the top bunks that was in a corner. It was both beside a window and also against a second wall.
In the middle of the dorm between the two rows of bunk beds in addition to several chests of drawers there were two studying tables each with eight chairs around them. Piles of blankets, duvets and sheets were stacked on the two desks and the top of the drawers. Finding my sheets, well they were Thomas’s ones before half-term, on one of the study tables. I made up the top bunk I’d chosen. One of the matrons must have unpicked the name label that was on the sheets as I found they’d been labeled, ‘Tegan A. L. Wehl’ now.
I ignored the blankets but popped one of the duvets over the top sheet and grabbed my bag from the wardrobe I’d hung it in. It now had my uniform I needed to wash inside. Time to let Rachel show me two rooms I was already familiar with. I tugged the hem of the short pale pink skirt trying to get it to cover more of my legs. I Pulled my wet hair into a ponytail to stop it clinging to the lilac crop top, and tried to brush the water spots away. I then looked at my black school shoes. They so didn’t go with my outfit. What the hell did I care about bloody matching shoes? Popping them on I forced myself to not think such stupid thoughts. They were shoes, they fit, and did their job. Nothing else was important. The pink ankle socks with a white net frill looked perfectly fine in the plain black shoes.
The floor below housed some members of staff, both lower and upper sixth, and three large dorms for the primary girls. It was these last three dorms which caused the first floor to be far noisier than the second floor had been. One little girl chasing a few others stopped as I stepped into the landing. The girl was tiny and likely only eight years old. Her large brown eyes stared with fear at me. She kept glancing at my navel piercing. I smiled in order to hopefully put her at ease. I wasn’t too keen over a young girl thinking me to be some evil witch.
A gasp from beyond had me concentrate on three of the girls she’d been chasing. They were scrambling to open a dorm door that others had ducked into. If I had to guess someone inside was holding the door closed as a prank. “You three step away from the door, I’ll find out who’s playing with the door in a moment.” It was a gut feeling, but I felt I needed to look into what they were doing. They were definitely older than the one in front of me and I wanted to work out why something had got me interested. “All of you can fall in closer for a moment.”
Well being told to ‘fall in’ must mean something different than I meant as after several intakes of breath, some from beyond the dorm door that had been cracked due to curiosity. All three stepped toward me then dropped into the curtsey Beatrice had made when sanctioned. The girl before me likely a year younger than the other three, stepped back to be behind the three and clumsily copied her ‘friends’, while mumbling about being sorry. She was shaking and tears were running down her face.
I squatted and lifted her head so we could look straight at each other. I was feeling terrible that by just standing before her, I made her terrified. She was shaking in absolute terror and tears were free running as she tried not to sniffle. “Hey, it’s okay. My names Tegan, What’s yours?”
“L… l… lou… ise, Miss Lesley. P… please don’t sanction me. I’m sorry I was running. I won’t do it again.”
“Louise, you’re not in trouble, running is good. You probably should do it outside though. Why aren’t you running outside with your friends?”
“They have…
“She’s not our friend. She’s only first form!” Interrupted one of the three girls. I turned to look at her. She was standing back up and was holding a doll in one hand. It was odd. Then I realized what was odd.She was holding the doll wrong. Instead of the way you’d hold a doll you cared about, she had it hanging face down by its neck, while her arm swung.
“Give me the doll.” I heard Louise beside be hitch a breath, making me more positive I was right in believing this doll was hers. She probably now thought the evil witch was going to curse it or something. After getting the doll from the girl, she looked at me as if she was measuring my worth. “Do you think you should be standing up?” I asked at her and swept my eyes over the other girls that were still stooped. Well the other two older girls had quickly re-dipped their heads after they’d previously been glancing toward me. The one I’d dubbed the ring leader fell back into the curtsey and finally looked unsure. “Louise is this doll yours?”
“Yes, Miss Lesley. Please don’t hurt Rebecca.”
“I won’t hurt Rebecca, and I have always liked the name Rebecca.”
“Did you call your doll, Rebecca too?”
Well there was a question I never thought I’d be asked. “Louise stand up and here is Rebecca. She’s been missing you.”
“Thanks, Miss Lesley.”
“Why don’t you go to your dorm while I talk to these three.” I waited while the door to her dorm closed.
“Now you three. You will not steal from children younger than you or I will sanction you. I know there are other kids that were in on this bullying and if they were unable to hear clearly through the cracked dorm door, you will tell them I have zero tolerance on bullies.”
“Why do you care? She’s your enemy’s younger sister, and you bullied too. So, like you will punish and even sanction us for bullying, but you can bully.”
“I didn’t say you could talk.” I said trying to nip this in the bud. Did the school think Beatrice was my enemy? Sure I could see a bit of a similarity between Louise and Beatrice, now I thought about it. Their eyes were a different colour, but so were mine to my sisters. I laughed realizing they still were a different colour to my sisters as that was one of the few things unchanged. Thanks to the peddler I looked less like my sister even though my body had become more feminine.
The laugh seemed to have finally put ‘her leadership’ firmly into the realm of fear. I guess crazy works against crazy. “I have no enemies at Belmare Moor regardless of what erroneous rumors you might have heard. However, I’ll tell you a sure fire way to become my enemy. See I despise and loathe bullies. I will destroy them. Is that clear enough or are you so dumb that I have put your nose in shit like training a puppy to not shit inside.”
“What… what about what you did to Miss Myles?” I guess she still felt she could talk back. She sounded fairly unsure and was no longer confident though. “You called her a dreg and pushed her around. Is that not bullying?”
“Myles was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I won’t be going out of my way to interact with her. If she’d stayed out of my business, none of that would have happened. I was in the middle of something important and time sensitive and she interrupted me. Actually, it was sort of like what you are doing now. Though you are far more obnoxious, and I think you can go to a punishment cell in the attic ‘till bedtime. You don’t look like missing a meal will do you any harm.”
“You can’t sanction me…
“But I can, and I think the punishment is just. Further, I accept Miss Lesley’s offer to be my defender of the little sprouts, so she has the right to issue punishments and detentions. Get going Chivers.” Rachel interrupted coming out of the second corridor I would have been heading for. “Stone and Rivers, after Miss Lesley ends her ‘Fall-in’ you will inform the primary third and fourth forms that you’re all on warning. Ensure everyone knows that you don’t pick on the younger girls, and that goes double for little Miss Walker.”
The two girls bowed back again as soon as Rachel mentioned that I had requested it of them, which wasn’t completely true. Miss Chivers, who was sullenly climbing the stairs, stopped startled and looked at me in pure fear. I waved her to carry on, and she got back to climbing again.
Rachel looked at me and when I didn’t say anything she continued. “As Miss Lesley has made a point to single out defending little Miss Walker you can see the rumors that Miss Walker and Miss Lesley are enemies are false.”
Once more she turned to me. What did Rachel want me to do? Let’s see she gave them a task to do after I ended the ‘Fall-in’. How did Ma White end her parade calling again, and did they end differently’? “As you were young… girls.” I said changing it from young ladies as it didn’t seem right to refer them that way. I was getting a bit frustrated as I picked up yet more questions.
The two girls scurried into a dorm. Rachel smiled at me and asked. “Ready to wash your uniform, Miss Lesley?”
“Yes please, Miss Swanson, and thank you.” I replied following her down to the ground floor. My thanking her had really confused her. What the hell had Rachel done, and how bad was it that I’d been made defender of the little girls. We exited into the stack yard that was starting to get busy as more kids were back and had made their beds, unpacked and got changed. The buses with most of the kids hadn’t arrived yet but would in the next five to ten minutes as dinner was barely thirty minutes away.
“You should remember to state you are starting a parade calling next time if you aren’t planning on sanctioning everyone that a request to ‘Fall-in’ means. I’m glad you want to be the little sprouts defender through your next trials.” Once more the odd look that went from an initial smirk to one that was confused and worried when I made no show of concern, and instead smiled at her. I wasn’t going to let her know she’d upset me, but I would have to find out in detention what was bad with the situation I’d got myself in. For something bad had happened. My uncaring smile though seemed to have unsettled her.
“I was observing to see what you would do. I was ready to stop you if you’d picked on Louise.” Rachel paused and stopped walking causing me to have to stop too. I could have carried on to the laundry room, but I shouldn’t know where it is and the door would be locked and I didn’t know a handy unlocking spell. “You surprised me, Miss Lesley.” Rachel finally said.
Rachel kept looking at me expecting me to say something, but I wasn’t going to put my foot in it and give away that I was clueless with what was going on. Sure I could say I did what I thought was right, but it was better to say nothing. What was that saying ‘wise men stay silent while fools speak’ well I might not be wise, but I definitely didn’t want to be thought a fool. Also though I was happy I’d helped Louise I was getting a nagging feeling I’d stepped into a trap of Rachel’s.
“I would have handled it nearly the same way. Well the week’s detention I would have given Chivers would be worse than one evening’s sanctioning, seen as the evening is almost over. Eventually you’ll have made Chivers stronger. It’s rare for a primary fourth form to get a sanctioning so being a third form and sanctioned will give her something to boast about. Well after she’s recovered anyway.” Rachel twisted the door knob while the word ‘disenthrall’ was spoken? Well not spoken. I was sure I could unlock the door if I spoke that word though. I was wool gathering over my new spell as Rachel continued to open the laundry room and turned on the lights. “So what do you say to now knowing your punishment will help Chivers?”
Being a direct question, I had to answer, but decided to say something that would make it look I had intended what Rachel said would happen. “I think all punishment should be a means to teach and improve the person.” I was also a bit peeved that she felt I would be upset that I’d made Miss outspoken-bully, stronger. I would be fine if by her being stronger she didn’t torment those that were younger than herself. Also having been given the punishment once of having to write four sides of A4 paper on the inside of a ping pong ball, I was rather annoyed over petty daft punishments that didn’t aid the one doing them. Well I guess it had developed my creativity a bit?
Rachel broke into my pondering with telling me. “You don’t have time to run a wash let alone two. So, hand wash your skirt and blouse. They need to be in a dryer before dinner as you have detention right after. You’ll need to get up early tomorrow to sew the buttons back on you blouse. Find out in your detention how to get your uniform from the dryer.” Rachel pointed to a sink and while I ran both hot and cold water into it and started on scrubbing the blood on my blouse she handed me a box of laundry detergent and a bottle of colour safe bleach. “Use this small dryer, and the laundry door will lock if you pull it closed. Turn the light off first, before you leave. Oh, and look, do you see that door across the stack yard.” She pointed at the entrance to the dining room. “The dining room’s through there, be there after the bell, or miss dinner.”
She then left me to it, closing the door after leaving. I was cleaning the skirt before I wondered if there was a spell to do this. Possibly hand washing my uniform was considered a punishment too. If it was it was a boon for me. Of course, the Headmistress would know this and so this and my ‘detentions’ with her were actually not punishment. She’d told me I was going to get detention so she could teach me the magic I should already know.
“Miss Lesley, right?” I jumped away from the laundry door I’d just shut and turned to find two girls standing behind me. “I am Miss Cooper, and this is Miss Wright.” The one I knew as Ashley carried on. They were both fifth form girls, though I hadn’t known Miss Wright’s name. I wondered if they were going to seek vengeance for what had happened to Beatrice. I jumped again as the dinner bell rang.
“Don’t worry, that’s just the dinner bell. Come you’ve not been in the dining hall yet, have you?” Ashley said hooking her arm into mine and drawing me toward the dining room. Miss Wright swung in on my other side. I suddenly wondered if she was Amanda’s older sister. Did she want payback for the six days of detention I’d caused her younger sister to get?
Due to worrying about possible hazing or worse I was already sat between the two of them at the top of the fifth form girls’ table before realizing I probably should be sat at the third forms’ table. Across from me sat Susan MacLeod, the chair Beatrice usually sat in was empty beside her.
Ashley stood and made a hand wave around the table that had fourteen girls sitting at including myself. Well counting Ashley there were fifteen of us. Just as I had heard Rachel’s unspoken word when she unlocked the laundry room door, I felt Ashley’s ‘Bridle Acoustics’ unspoken words that accompanied her gesture. I could also see a shimmering, wall? Bubble? Whichever of those or if something else, it was a couple of feet or so beyond our table and encircling it in a rounded rectangle that curved together about fifteen feet above the center of the table. Blinking I could shift my vision to not see it once more, and another set of blinks and it was there again.
“Right the Triumvirate has an announcement. Miss Lesley is a championed queen by our missing fifth year prefect. Miss Lesley has accepted the role of defender of the primary first two years. She has already sanctioned a primary third form girl that was bullying Miss Walker’s little sister, and placed two forms on warning. This shows the rumors are not true of a division in the fifth form. Mis Lesley states that she despises and loathes bullies, and that punishments should benefit the one being punished.These ideals align perfectly with the Triumvirate. Any questions?”
Well I had a whole bucket of them but didn’t want to draw any more attention to myself. It seemed Rachel had shared the information of me with this mystical Triumvirate that had informed Ashley. I’m wondering who the Triumvirate is. Also, when we can eat dinner as I’m quite hungry. That is likely a first for me, since changing. Prior to tonight I’d found myself not as interested in food as I’d been before. Perhaps the stress over what had happened caused me to loose my appetite. I nearly laughed when I realized I’d implied I was no longer stressed, when I kept becoming more stressed each time I thought I was pegged at max stress.
“Fine as there are no questions I turn it over to one of my fellow members of the Triumvirate, Miss MacLeod.” Ashley sat down and Susan stood up. “Than you Miss Cooper. I am glad to see that the fifth form is behind us, your Triumvirate, our fifth year prefect, and the new member of Belmare Moor, Miss Lesley.” As Susan looked around the table I was wondering if I needed to speak up about my name and all the other things they’d assumed wrong.
“Often a new member arriving in the senior years causes chaos and warring that is damaging to the hallowed to the point of being like a second culling. Thankfully that will not be the case this time, as you can consider the five of us a Pentumvirate all together standing as one.” I really had to stop myself laughing to that. First, wouldn’t it be a Quintumvirate? Second, if there were four girls joined in power does it get called a Rectumvirate?
However, both my Grandma and Misses White had told me to not volunteer any information and speak as little as possible so I stayed quite. I’d let her know in my detention tonight and find out how I should handle this. Now I wanted to get to my detention before anything weirder occurred, but I also wanted to eat some food. Even with my stomach now trying out for the Olympic sport of somersaults, I wanted some food. My stomach growled loudly and several of the girls laughed.
“As some of you are hungry I will wrap up without more of a to do, to allow all of you a chance to eat. I welcome the new royalty to our table. Miss Lesley, you are seated where you belong as part of the new Pentumvirate that is united behind each other. I’m Susan MacLeod of the coven Zephyr and would be honored if you called me Susan. May I address my fellow member of the Pentumvirate as Tegan?” Susan MacCleod held out her hand and I found myself shaking hands. This was followed by two more handshakes while being invited to call Miss Wright as Valerie, and Miss Cooper as Ashley.
“You’re a member of the Royal family,Miss Lesley?” Sara, sitting next to Valerie asked.
“She passed Magna Cum Laude third year trials at Gwithial Ylt.” Valerie answered before I’d been able to say no.
“How do you know that?” Rebecca asked Valerie, while Sara asked me what the school was like.
Valerie thankfully jumped in again before I’d formatted what to say. “Sara, Tegan is unable to answer you. She can only discuss the place with other alumni, so that’s Misses White and Miss Hodges whom passed seventh years trials and Misses Fitzpatrick and Dame Martin that passed third years trials like Tegan.”
Susan added. “They all often wear their alumni pendant on a necklace or bracelet. Tegan’s got hers with a navel piercing.” Of course, the other girls came around the table if on the opposite side or just pushed in closer if already on this side. All looked at my navel ring. I tried to nonchalantly pour and then sip my tea to downplay the spectacle I was in. I also grabbed a couple of scones to stave off my rumbling stomach.
“Incoming fifth and sixth year drones.” Ashley stated and then dropped the privacy bubble. Well I assumed it was a privacy bubble.
“Hi John, how was you half term?” Rebecca asked, grabbing his hand as she tried to take him with her around the table to her side. When he shrugged her arm off and continued toward me, she glared at me. Didn’t she know I wished she took the whole bloody lot of the incoming boys with her. They were all unfortunately zeroed in on me. Damn but it’s bad to feel like you’re a new piece of fresh meat.
“I’m Mark, lower sixth and according to Michael and John you’re the reason we don’t have our delectable Beatrice Walker dining with us.”
“I’m fairly sure Beatrice wouldn’t like you talking of her in such a possessive way. Now if you could return to your table I really need to eat as I’ve an important meeting with the headmistress right after dinner.” As I turned back to my scone, I was thinking of all the idiotic things to say. Only I knew it wasn’t a real detention.
“An important meeting? I heard she gave you three weeks detention with her.” Mark swung back and I had a way to fix my goof.
“Po Tay Toe, Po Tah Toe. You say detention, I say an additional chance to learn something.”
“Then what do you call your fight with Beatrice over your fiancée, her ex-boyfriend?” Michael chimed in. Since when had I been Beatrice’s boyfriend? I wondered. Let’s not even worry about being engaged to myself.
“I call it you being so wrong you’re not even in the right country let alone within the city limits of the conversation. Beatrice and I just have a few things to discuss…
“Yes, the two of them and the three of us are all together and great friends.” Susan said while indicating the three of us sat in a line. Or she could have been just pointing to first Asley then Valerie that were sat on either side of me.
“So a rumor says you were always in detention at your old school. Were you expelled?” Mark asked.
“Oh, I like bad girls. Are you naughty?” Jordan asked.
“Cute piercing, where else is your body pierced?” John asked and grabbed my arm pulling me around part way. It looked like he was going to reach for my piercing. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” I said a lot louder than I intended while shoving his arm off me and the dining hall suddenly quieted as he stumbled and fell into the fourth year girls table. It would seem I was the centre of attention for the whole bloody school. Two members of staff were heading this way too.
“Boys return to your table.” Matron Bell said. “Young lady that language is not appropriate, you’re already in enough trouble. I think it best if you head to your detention now as you must have finished dinner if you have the time to play and swear.”
With my stomach growling in anger, I topped up my cup of tea and grabbed my uneaten scone in the other hand. I made a point of taking a bite of the scone as I walked by her and toasted her with my cup of tea. I walked around the third form girls and second form boys to avoid walking near the fourth through sixth form boys. It had the added benefit of enabling me to finish my scone and grab two sandwiches off the primary first and second form girls’ table. “Hey Louise, everything good with you?” I asked while pinching the sandwiches
“Y.. yes, thank you Miss Lesley.” She still looked a bit worried about me being beside her.
I scooted down so I was eye-level to her and smiled. “Hey I’m Tegan to you, remember.”
Finally a big smile was on her face. “Thanks Tegan.”
I noticed Matron Bell heading toward me. “Louise, could you open the door for me. My hands are kind of full.” Louise giggled and ran to open it. I walked quickly to leave before the Matron decided to take my sandwiches back.
“Bye Tegan.” Looks like Louise was finally confident and not worried to be around me. “Farewell Louise.” I offered to solidify I was protecting her. It was my fault her big sister wasn’t there to protect her and it looked like I’d caused her to become a target. The rules around how witches behaved seemed to be rather cruel and nasty.
I was glad I’d been able to grab some food too. Due to the whole dinner meeting the Triumvirate had shanghaied me to, no one from the fifth form table had grabbed the trays of sandwiches for our table. I guess I was lucky someone had at least grabbed the scones before the set up was poised for trapping me. It was another thing to find out how badly I’d done when I met with the headmistress.
What a bitch the matron was, kicking me out of the dining room before we even got dinner, and making it seem like I had asked for the bloody boys to come around me. I took a breath to calm myself. It looked like I was going to have as bad a relationship with Matron Bell as Thomas had done.
I arrived at the headmistresses’ office with two thirds of my tea left to drink and one sandwich still to eat. I was going to finish them before knocking on the door, but someone doesn’t like me as Ma White exited the staff room with a cup of tea and looked askance at me. “I told you to come for detention after you finished eating dinner.”
“Some older boys bothered me and Matron Bell told me to leave for my detention.” I replied and took a bite of my sandwich.
Misses White opened the door and indicated for me to follow into her office. The door had barely closed when she turned on me. “Tegan, somehow I don’t think that is the whole story. What am I going to do with you? You should have a clean slate with Matron Bell. She doesn’t know you were Thomas.” She sighs as if the whole debacle was my fault. “We’d planned a perfect method to sanction Beatrice and make her your defender after she attacks you. You just had to somehow beat her up instead. Weakening her too much especially when it’s found out you’re only a third year, and leaving the Triumvirate far too powerful.”
“You wanted me to get me into a fight and loose!” I angrily shot back.
“Look that’s not important. It didn’t happen…
“No, I think it is very important. From what I’ve seen so far witches are not playing with the same rules and I need information before I make the next goof. Instead of plotting how to manipulate the students by treating me as a blinkered horse staked out for the wolves, tell me what you expect them to do, due to how you need me to act. Allow me to improvise.”
“I will, but I had only one way forward to weaken those who would align against you after you lost gaining an assumed strong defender. Magic is based on three, five and thirteen. They are strong numbers where four is the weakest. Please tell me that before Matron Bell kicked you out of dinner that the Triumvirate has been weakened. The solid three weakened to four, after you have successfully been included in the Quadumvirate?”
With questions rising faster than answers can be found my own headmistress has asked me to skive the first five lesons of the day.
Ashley carried on to the day’s first lesson for fifth formers unknowing that my excuse had been decided in my prior evening’s detention. Determined to not rethink on that now I raced back to the dorm, but not as I’d said to get my forgotten assignments. It had been easy to say I’d been given some evaluating assignments to be turned in before my first class. I just didn’t say the evaluating assignments were going to be held after lunch when the third through fifth year girls had tennis during the last three periods on Wednesdays. Coach Davis needed to evaluate my tennis skills before I could participate, and playing hooky ensured that was my first class.
By skipping the mornings five class periods I added another day while the girls assumed I was in the fifth form. That was the reason for the latest ploy, with Ma White holding the release of Beatrice from her sanctioning ‘till lunch time there would be no one bothering me in the dorm room, except for the twenty-minute break between the third and fourth class periods. Thus, I had nearly four hours uninterrupted to study magic. I set my alarm for ten fifty-eight and started reading and practicing my hexing. That way I could hide before the break when some girls might swing back to the dorm.
Hexes seemed the most useful with the frequency I seemed to get into conflicts. Though there were numerous flashy hexes for the next fight I got myself in, I was intrigued with the more subtle and insidious ones. There was a hex that caused the hemoglobin to not be interested in carbon dioxide until an extremely high concentration of the molecules build up. Another that caused every cone and rod on both retinas to fire rapidly for several seconds. A third would cause random movement of the fluid within the semi-circular canals.
When my alarm interrupted me, I was nearly a quarter of my way through my third-year hex book. True I had jumped quickly to that book, but hexes were one of the areas of magic I was talented in due to my primary pillar. I’d gleaned enough from skimming the first two years books especially as I’d started on them before breakfast. So far, I’d managed to augment my one primed illusion spell and one minor tripping hex to now include two primed hexes that each could be used multiple times, and three more that like my illusion could only be used once a day. I’d also got a handful of general purpose easy spells that like my minor tripping hex seemed to be able to be cast whenever I desired to cast them.
Finally, as I felt under armed last night with only one minor tripping hex, and even now with some moderate level offensive hex spells available for a day, I had been glad to get an illusion charm to obscure something already partially hidden to be ignored. It allowed me to wear the weapons I’d received from Ma White last night as long as I wore my school blazer or a similar shaped jacket.
Misses White had told me I couldn’t wear it ‘till I got the spell down so that had been my first task since the wee hours this morning. I was far happier when I took the harness from where it was hidden in my suitcase and popped it on. Especially as until I could no longer cast the multiple cast hexes, I wouldn’t know how many times I could cast them and when I could re-prime them. The three new single cast a day hex spells, I only knew after I cast them and discovered I wouldn’t be able to redo so ‘till tomorrow.
Putting all my magic books away into my rucksack, I slung it over my shoulder and exited Seagull. A quick walk to the next-door Fire Escape Two and I entered one of the third-year girls’ dormitories as the end of third period’s bell rang. Ignoring the room, I made quickly for the fire escape giving the dorm its name. It was a regular door in a column of wall in the centre of the dormitory. Obviously magic provided a flight of stairs instead of the closet it appeared to be.
Taking one of my thirteen throwing knives from the veiled harness beneath my blazer I made a small cut on the end of my thumb. Annoyingly due to my new shorter Tegan body I had to stretch on tip toes to reach the point of the door and door frame that was about three inches below the top of the door and allow some of my blood on both. I allowed a bit more blood to mark the door and door frame that was five inches from the bottom edge next.
I stepped back to ensure I was a good three foot from the door to not mess up and attach the spell to the wrong same blood then spoke. “Lives flow adjacent paired be, and adjacent even, if parted be. Disenthrall.”
As I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, I opened the previously locked fire escape door without tripping the alarms that ensured the door was not opened. I then quickly entered the staircase and closed the door behind me. “Enthrall.” I relocked the door. Of course, it would take until my blood was mostly coagulated for the spell bypassing the door alarm sensors to end. Also, until I cleaned it off it could be possible for someone to notice what I’d done. Hopefully four small smudges of blood would not be noticed by someone quickly changing books or clothing out. I couldn’t stop myself from imagining Rachel being satisfied that she hadn’t been wrong in her initial belief I’d be breaking school rules. Somehow my defense that the headmistress told me to do it likely wouldn’t be believed. Especially as I’m sure said headmistress would not corroborate my story.
Wiping the blade on the cloth I carried to do just that, I returned it to its home and as informed my small nick in my thumb healed as if never cut. The few drops of blood that had bled onto my blouse cuff though remained. It looks like I would be soaking blood off my blouse again this evening. It seems I packed too many of my uniforms in my not yet arrived trunk. I then held my breath as I heard the door of the dorm open.
I quietly slipped down the stairs wondering how someone could have got to the dormitories so quickly. I should have had a bit more time. Would they see the blood? I’d planned to clean it off when I returned this way after the break ended. Would they open the door and see me on the staircase? With heart pounding I descended while internally counting the thirteen steps constantly expecting the door above me to be swung open. Thankfully I reached the bottom and it hadn’t been opened.
I opened the door and exited onto the sheltered porch of the tennis pavilion allowing the door to close behind me. Walking to the centre where the tennis pavilions entrance door was, I noticed the door I had used merge back into the wooden siding that hides it from casual notice. The centre door was locked but a spoken word easily took care of that and I entered the pavilion.
Wicker hampers were stacked against the wall of the ten foot by six-foot-deep room. I had thought there was a table and chair I could have studied at in here but I either was mistaken in thinking they were in here or they’d been moved out since I had previously seen them. I wasted a good few minutes confirming that the place wouldn’t work to study in. Dropping my bag between a couple of hampers I let myself out and locked the door. I had over ten minutes to kill before returning to the dorm to study during periods four and five before lunch.
I entered the forest on one of the paths that wound into the woods from the tennis courts. I thought some students might decide to lie out on the south facing sundial lawn to soak up some sun and could then notice me if I stayed on the tennis courts. The woods offered a better place to hide. What I hadn’t thought about was that smokers and amorous couples would choose the woods as a good place to visit.
My luck held as in trying to avoid three boys smoking, I nearly tripped over Myles and Williams that had chosen to lie inside the cleared ground beneath over hanging tree limbs. One moment I am pushing a branch that trails to the ground to the side of a foot path, as I know there is a hollowed-out space that I can use to get through the fifteen feet to another forest path and avoid the three smoking boys I had heard and thankfully not been seen by yet. They were talking and goofing about but also heading toward me in fits and spurts on the path I was on.
Next, as I quietly crossed the area of the woods that due to the tree has limited underbrush and plants while looking behind me to ensure the three boys didn’t see the tree limb swing back over where I’d entered, I am just brought aware of what’s in front of me by a female moan prior to my foot making contact with the back of Williams’ shoulder. Unfortunately, my sudden stop caused some noise as with a startled ‘eep’ Sharon was rolling to her feet and straightening her uniform. That led to attracting the three smokers to barrel in to the now overly filled space.
“Wow Williams, well done.” Lewis made to offer a high-five then settled to pat him on his shoulder I’d nearly kicked. I glared at them upon realizing what Lewis had implied and found that Sharon agreed with my feelings as she glared too.
“Michael was just with me, his girlfriend, Lewis. I don’t share.” Sharon responded. “So, if the lot of you could go back to destroying your lungs, Michael and I would appreciate clean air.” She also looked toward me nervously, so I figured that most of that was a bluff.
Figuring and hoping she would likely move out of my way after our last confrontation, I decided to just carry on as I had intended. Hopefully the amorous couple would distract the smokers long enough for me to get into a different area of the forest. Having decided I walked toward Sharon and I as I expected she shrank back from me. Unfortunately, Williams and Young chose to step between me and my exit. The first was likely to defend his girl, and the second for reasons I could guess.
“Excuse me, I am just leaving.” I smiled at the boys. It worked on removing only one of my obstacles though.
“Hey new lass, there’s a toll. For a girl as beautiful as you, I’m willing to accept a kiss as payment.”
Wielding a blade before thinking it through I counter offered. “You could get out of my way before I castrate you. Choice is yours and I’ve not used this blade recently, so I’m hoping you’re too dumb to move.”
Young leapt to the side quickly. “What the fuck! Psycho!”
Well they would be distracted and allow me to make an exit. However, I could already hear the telling off for displaying the knife. But, it would be so worth it. Well I could deny pulling a knife on him. The veil hid them from view while in the harness and I was fairly sure I wouldn’t be patted down.
Unfortunately, my imagination saw pulling out a blade as a possible short term solution with huge long term issues and what if Mister Young chose to escalate, could I cut him. Back in reality I had a leering boy to get by. He stood left arm encroaching while right hand hung loosely at his side with his half smoked fag between thumb and fore finger.
Twisting my right side away I swung my left arm and snagged the cigarette. Quickly I switched it to the right hand and then attacked him with his fag instead of my earlier choice of a blade. I also swung it toward his face rather than my earlier thought target.
“Back off chimney breathe!” I thrust my right hand forward while palming a blade within my left. No one should notice it and hopefully I wouldn’t need to use it, but this seemed wiser to have a hidden back up. One I could deny even if I had to use, while I drew all attention on the cigarette that the boys wouldn’t want to inform any one about.
Young took a step to the side and the whole group looked on. “Hey that’s my smoke.”
“Think it’s hers now Young.” Lewis countered.
“So, Young what are you going to do?” Johnson just had to egg him on as I was nearly backed to the other exit from the tree. He also seemed to decide to move toward me. Throwing my minor tripping hex at Johnson caused him to stumble into Williams.
“Here, have your fag back.” I threw the cigarette slightly behind Young, and thankfully he stopped his new approach toward me to recover the fag as quickly as possible. Rubbing the side to ensure nothing from the ground was on it. I twisted out and begun running away on the next forest trail.
Once I was sure I wasn’t being followed I slowed down and slipped the blade back. Hell I hoped I wasn’t going to get tagged with ‘Runner’ or something similar as a nickname. I was beginning to set a pattern for running. The reminder of my break was thankfully nowhere near as exiting. I wasted a few minutes of fourth period as I didn’t want to head back to the tennis pavilion until I was sure there was no one to block my passage.
My next problem was I couldn’t work out how to open the secret door in the wall of the pavilion. Thinking back on the prior evening’s detention I realized I had assumed the return to the dormitory while the headmistress must have assumed I would stay in the pavilion studying for these two periods. So either this was a one way door, or I had not been given the means to open, which either way meant I needed to return to the manor house the old fashioned way.
I climbed the gentler trail along the right side of sundial lawn. If I’d chosen the left side of the lawn I'd have had better tree coverage, then after a dozen or so steps I would quickly get to a passageway that allowed access to the west side of the stack yard. However, it would have needed me to pass several classroom windows, where someone might query why I wasn’t in class. Going to the right meant I would only have one class, and the headmistress office to sneak past. Oh and hopefully not be noticed by any sixth formers that had a free period as I walked on the sixth form terrace behind the headmistress office.
Usually the sixth formers like to sit along the three quarters of the terrace that runs behind the library, one of the girls’ common rooms, dining hall and kitchen. The odds were thus slightly in my favor of getting to the rear door of the manor house with only the headmistress seeing me. Adjusting my backpack so the strap wasn’t twisting my bra strap I carried on my next rule breaking exercise. Also looking up at the terrace from sundial lawn I didn’t see any sixth formers currently sitting on any of the five benches.
I gave a jaunty wave to the scowling headmistress stood in her office with phone to her ear, as I quickly ran by. Leaping up the steps and through the door I was in the hallway outside the music rooms and headmistress’ office from yesterday evening with no students the wiser that I’d been on the sixth form terrace. Not waiting to see if Ma White had words of wisdom to share with me when her phone conversation ended I carried on running to, and then up the stairs. One detour to wipe four dried marks of blood clean and I was back in Seagull with almost none the wiser.
“I see you took my bed.” Beatrice stated. What the hell was she doing here? I was still reeling that my marks of blood had already been removed from the other doorway. Could they identify me by the blood? Was I in trouble for using the fire-escape?
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked on auto-pilot while panicking.
“What you didn’t want me released to the hallowed yet. When would you’ve felt I had been punished enough, this evening, tomorrow before fifth period bell, this weekend?”
I stepped back. Okay yes I shouldn’t be surprised at her vitriol, but I was. The thought, ‘she shouldn’t be here’ kept running in my head like a stuck record and I was having a hard time working out what to say.
“Oh, young lady I thought I would have got your attention, but was on the phone and you must have flown up the stairs.” Misses White was in the newly opened doorway and I needed to warn her that someone knew I’d used the fire-escape exit.
“Misses White, the four stains I wanted to clean, already were by someone else.” I hoped she would understand what I was trying to tell her.
“Ah, that’s why you did this. I should have told you last evening that I would remove those, so no one would ever see them. I’m fairly sure I took care of them the very minute after they were used.” She looked at me ‘till I worked out that she was the person I’d thought nearly caught me, and she obviously had expected me to stay until lunch inside the tennis pavilion. “Now Miss Walker you need to make your bed. You also need to thank this one for protecting your little sister from bullies. Louise has such high praise for your queen. I am sure I can count on you to be the best queen’s champion. Good day girls.”
“Oh, and both change into your tennis uniform. I’ll take your uniform to the laundry room as I’m going by there. That will enable it to be washed for tomorrow, as I don’t think your trunk with more uniforms arrives ‘till Friday.” Well at least Beatrice was taking her clothes off too. I would have been feeling extremely odd if I was undressing alone in front of the two of them.
The downside other than the tennis skirt being shorter, was I had to put my blade harness back in my suitcase. I did get to see Beatrice in her underwear though.
I felt a right nana in a tight white t-shirt that emphasized my breasts, pleated tennis skirt, bloomers, ankle socks and girly tennis shoes. At least my bloomers were plain. Beatrice’s were a pair with ruffles that drew attention to them more than a flashing neon sign would do. Well perhaps not quite that much, but way more than mine.
Unfortunately the headmistress then left with my skirt and blouse leaving the two of us in Seagull alone, in our tennis attire. She stared at me and I just stared back. Time ticked by.
Beatrice sighed and then started making her bed. She was making the last unmade bed, which was the bed below mine. I returned my suitcase beneath our bunk bed and then sat on a chair. In order to not ogle the cute girl in a mini bending over to make her bed I thought back over last night detention. Had I missed the headmistress telling me to stay and study in the pavilion?
I couldn’t believe it. I had arrived for this evening’s detention and find out I was set up to get in a fight with Beatrice. My Grandma and headmistress knowing I knew little magic felt the best solution was to get me beaten up and then ridicule my attacker as she was three years my senior. How much ridicule would carry through when it was obvious that Beatrice assumed we were the same age? It was the logical assumption from the information released.
I angrily demanded to be given information so I could improvise when their plans went off the rails as they were bound to do.
The headmistress responded. “I will, but I had only one way forward to weaken those who would align against you after you lost gaining a strong defender. Magic is based on three, five and thirteen. They are strong numbers where four is the weakest. Please tell me that before Matron Bell kicked you out of dinner that the Triumvirate has been weakened. The solid three weakened to four, after you have successfully been included in the Quadumvirate?”
“Susan proposed a Pentumvirate, The original three, myself and Beatrice.” I offered.
“Why would Miss MacLeod think you would agree to that? You have shown complete contempt for Miss Walker and set her up to lose badly, then spat in her eye at being a prefect. That makes no sense. She couldn’t risk you refusing as it would lead fifth form into immediate infighting that could only undermine her position of power.”
“What’s a defender?” I asked breaking into Misses White’s musing.
“It is a trick to use on a powerful witch. If a witch is threatened by an overly powerful witch then it is a way to remove them as a problem. The new defender are stuck having to fight and protect the witch they are a defender for until their next trial, which for Beatrice is over three years away. Her seventh year trials are the year after upper sixth year workers’ exams. No one could have challenged or attacked you during that time giving you time to become a queen. What your grandma and I were worried over, was you becoming a witch at fourteen means you were under the hallowed halls rules.”
Well I figured I would hold off a few minutes on informing Ma White that I apparently had to fight on behalf of all primary first and second formers until nearly Christmas. I was more intrigued about the hallowed halls being mentioned again. “What are the hallowed halls?”
“Okay Miss Wehl, first you need to stop judging our society as a worker. It is wrong to hold us by worker laws and rules. You are not a worker, you are a witch, and normally you would have been raised as one. Unfortunately, you had a minor birth defect that made us think you were a drone.” Ma White took a breath to ensure I was still with her. “Witches thrive on conflict. Our magic leaps forward when our lives are on the line. The hallowed halls are our arena, where all queens can challenge other queens up to two years younger and larva other larva, with the same two years age difference. They are the halls and rooms within this school where no worker or drone can follow.”
I slowly sank into one of the office chairs while wondering if every answer would constantly create more questions. Also with the whole warning to not judge by 'workers' laws and rules I'd been expecting something more sinister. Then again the headmistress hadn't said what a challenge entailed though. I think the headmistress noticed that I was a step away from losing it as she sat too and told me a tale. It was a tale of a different world than the one I knew.
In the witch’s world normal humans were known as workers. Workers were born from workers, but also sadly from witches too. Drones were the sons, nephews, grandsons, grand nephews, or great-grandsons of witches. Witches that hadn’t passed third year trials were pupa ‘till ten and then larva ‘till they passed the trial and became a queen. Just like an insect hive, the hallowed halls were geared to ensure the survival of the strongest. I’d not as I thought just turned from boy to almost girl. I’d turned from drone to pupa at the age I couldn’t benefit any protection of being a pupa. The hallowed halls would be just like a hive where a queen was late in emerging from their cell. All queens before they fought first stung every cell that the pupa had not escaped from.The analogy fell a bit apart with the way witches named their young pupa and the pre-queens larva at this point to me.
Thus the plan to get me a defender before I could fight to save myself had been born. When I won, the headmistress scrambled to make Beatrice my champion. It didn’t defend me against all threats and even those it did I was left wondering if they could be diminished at the start of next winter term. From what I could piece together at the first time after January that I’m challenged to defend one of the little sprouts I will need to inform the hallowed that I took third year trials the prior winter solstice and thus was no longer defender. When that comes out the cat will be amongst the pigeons.
I couldn’t be worried about that lost defending and what could happen once the truth of when I sat my trials got out as I was more worried at the confirmation that death was what greeted the losers of the third year culling. Being told it hardly ever happened in later fights including even the seventh year trials, did not provide the comfort my headmistress thought it would. I was too worried how I needed to learn enough to see next year. Sighing, I knew I needed to own up to being named a defender and see if my worries were correct, or if there was even worse to worry about.
“Well, in addition to bluffing my way from getting called into fights that I can’t substitute my champion to fight for me, I’m defender of the little sprouts.” I told the headmistress. I took a sip of my now cold tea as my mouth was as dry as ash. I figured I needed to let my headmistress know that I had more problems than she was aware of.
“How can that have happened?”
“It happened because you and Grandma didn’t provide me enough information to know what I was supposed to be doing. Your upper sixth year prefect obviously chose to remove a wrongly perceived threat of a too powerful queen by assigning me defender of the little sprouts when I stopped Beatrice’s little sister from being bullied.”
“She made you defender of all little sprouts. Not defender of Miss Walker?” The headmistress inquired.
“She said I was her defender of the little sprouts, but later she said that as I had chosen to specifically defend little Miss Walker it proved I didn’t count Miss Walker as my enemy, and Ashley made a point of calling me little Miss Walker’s defender. I don’t want to assume it isn’t both just because I didn’t understand something.”
“…And thus the reason for the Pentumvirate. We can recover this though as they think they have you snookered ‘till your seventh year trials. Oh, and yes, Miss Swanson was clever to firstly make you defender of the little sprouts, and then Miss Walker specifically as a precedent. She thought you would have to defend Miss Walker for more than five years. Further, every year there are more little sprouts to possibly need to defend.
Ma White ensured I understood what she was saying before continuing with the real kicker. “Within three years there could be a conflict between two previous little sprouts you had defended that are now lava and allowed to fight. You would fail your charge of defending one ‘till your next trial. By the loophole of defending them years earlier causing said little sprout to then be named specifically, as the case of little Miss Walker allowed.”
“So I am totally screwed.”
“Language Miss Wehl’s and no you are not, as none of your little sprouts will be lava before the end of your term of office, this year’s winter solstice. However, being one of the fifth year leaders, you will be the clear winner if Beatrice accepts the Pentumvirate before it’s found out that you’re in the third form.”
The headmistress did confirm that I had to declare when I took my trial only when I wanted to state I was no longer their defender. So unless something odd occurs it wouldn’t come to light ‘till my fifth year or beyond when I would have had at least twenty seven months to learn magic. I couldn’t defend them though after my trials, and then try to not defend them later. So if something happened next January I would have to allow it to get out that I’d messed with the system after having only seven months to learn magic.
Ma White was not understanding in how I worried about the winter solstice trials in which I might die. She was more concerned about protecting me from the additional conflicts caused by me waking to magic nearly too late to learn. To hear her, the conflict of me having to be in the top five percent will either allow my magic to grow fast enough to protect me, or not, if I wasn’t worth the magic. I guess it’s a convenient outlook on life without guilt. All the young girls that died weren’t worth their gift in magic, so no harm, no foul. Every time I tried to point this convenient logic, I was merely reminded that I wouldn’t think that if I’d been raised a witch from birth.
“Fine we can agree to disagree on that. Teach me about magic, as I am going to need it to survive.” I cut in after the last stalling conversation continued rehashing the same circular reasoning on what a witch should just accept.
“Fine," Ma White chewed back I think to point out how unthankful I sounded for all she had done to keep me alive. "The first thing to know about witchcraft is that it needs balance. The numbers three, five, and thirteen are the base that magic’s pattern is woven to. The five foundations and the five pillars are the warp. Each pillar has an area of order, chaos and balance. Those are the three twills. The witch’s magic is the weft weaving between the warp, twill and the wylds.” Misses White began.
I tried to interrupt, but the headmistress carried on after pointing me to a look at the floor. She swung her hand and said. “Disenthrall penumbra.” The floor’s mosaic shifted to show the pentacle once more.
“Magic is broken up into twenty subject areas.” She pointed to the twenty words that followed the inside circumference of the outer circle.“Five are wyld subjects rooted directly in a foundation, devoid of pillar and thus each is woven on a balance twill.” She cast a spell and the foundation ‘Course’ at just beyond the two-thirty position glowed blue along with the line that ran like a radian to the glowing word ‘Tempest’.
“The other fifteen are three groups for each of the five pillars. Your primary pillar is Decay, which is about change.” The Tuscan pillar at six o’clock was now glowing green. “Chaotic decay comes from hexes.” A green radian line ran from the ‘Decay’ pillar to the closer to seven side of the six o’clock position. Straight to the word ‘Hex’. “While ordered decay is transformative magic, and balanced decay is twisted truth.” At each point a green radian shot from the same decay pillar first to the slightly five side of six o’clock, then one straight to the six o’clock to the glowing magic subject words of ‘Chrysalis’ and ‘Gab’ respectively.
“Tempest spells will be your hardest to learn. It is the area you are most weak in magic. However, these three subjects in green along with the wyld subject of golems will be the easiest for you to learn.” Another green radian shot from the ‘Wood’ element above the top point of the pentacle to the twelve o’clock position and the word ‘Golem’ between ‘Demonology’ and Necromancy’ now glowed green too.
“My primary pillar is the ‘Illusion’ pillar.” The Egyptian pillar at three-twenty glowed red. A red radian shot to about the three o’clock position and the word ‘Divination’ glowed red. It was adjacent to ‘Tempest’ in the wheel of magic subjects. “The order twill of Illusion is the magic subject Divination, while the balance twill is the subject ‘Veils’ that I use to hide this pentacle. Lastly chaotic illusion is ‘Realm’ magic. It provides the ability to cross universes.”
“Parallel Universes exist? We can explore other worlds?” I interrupted.
“You already are. Belmare Moor School is not on your earth or in this universe’s equivalent of your milky way.”
Wanting to do something, but not take out a magic book with Beatrice in the dorm making her bed. I looked over at my locked suitcase and tried to unlock it silently from where I was sat without getting up from my chair. I don’t know how many frustrated minutes had gone by, but Beatrice had finished making her bed and was sullenly lying on it, when I wondered how would I know if I’d unlocked it already.
So I got up and tried to open it and found I could. Did that mean I had successfully silent cast the unlocking spell, or that I hadn’t locked it earlier? Needing a reason for opening the case I grabbed a book at random. It was one of the advanced Hex books that Ma White provided, and after closing the case I tried to silently lock it. On my third cast I saw the lock turn, and on checking it, confirmed it was locked. On my first silent unlocking attempt I saw the lock turn again and could open the case. I had just tripled the number of spells I could cast silently.
Feeling Beatrice’s eyes on me I closed and silently relocked my case and returned to the study desk to get a bit further away from her. As I went to move the chair, I realized I still had the hex book in my hand. Well I had wanted to study, and otherwise it would look odd that I got it from my case. Also it was supposed to have an illusion preventing others from reading which would make them assume it was beyond their ability. The worrying question was would it actually be beyond my ability.
Thankfully, I found out that what I had learned so far, was adequate foundation as though it was definitely more complex, I didn’t think every page was in a different language or worse a blank page without words, as a book close to or beyond the reader’s magic would appear. Hopefully, courtesy of the weekly illusion Ma White cast on all my books that would be how this book would look to Beatrice.
I actually managed to gain another spell. It was one that could hex five different targets with no visible indication. It was primed, but I wasn’t going to cast it with someone watching. I would also need to cast it over and over until I could do so silently, as it really would be far more useful that way.
“Why did Ma White not want us in class?” I was broken from my concentration, and unable to slip back into my book. “I was initially so angry with you coming to see me return, and to find you had taken my bed.”
Beatrice knocked my book while sitting down in the chair beside me. “But you didn’t know it was my bed. You didn’t know I was going to be released today, and Ma White hadn’t expected you to be here.”
“I think Ma White knows exactly where all her students are.” I deflected.
“Nope, she got distracted by a phone call and you got back to the dorm too soon. She arrives and disrupts me from my attack. Not just by reminding me I am your champion, but throwing out some cock and bull about my sister liking you, and you protecting her.”
“I like your sister, and I hope she likes me.” I offered to hopefully confuse her.
“You deliberately went out of your way to bate me in to attacking you. You easily win, but throw the prefect position back in my face. Ma White lets you get away with the power play with a ton of detentions with her, not any of the usual teachers detentions are assigned with. She over punishes me, and makes me your champion. She tells us to get ready for tennis.” Beatrice slams my book closed. “What is happening in the fifth form class that she doesn’t want me to know?”
I reopen the book to the page I was on, as I don’t want this conversation to carry on. I try to ignore her and start trying to learn from the book once more. It is hard to study difficult material at the best of times. Trying to do so while a powerful witch that could hex you into an apple and then eat you, and is currently staring at you in rage of absolute chaotic emotions with zero control, is impossible.
“There’s a quadumvirate. You and the triumvirate control the fifth form and I’m the lame duck prefect with no power. I will destroy you! Four is a weak base to build your power on. All of the upper and lower sixth will support me, and you’ll be surprised how many of the fifth form will follow me. I bet I can get most of the fourth form too.”
“Well it’s good we are planning on using five as the base then.” I throw out before returning to my studying. It seems that has given her pause as she is silent for nearly ten minutes. Then she is busily listing fifth form girls and why they couldn’t be chosen over her.
“It wouldn’t work. There is no other fifth former that Miss MacLeod would allow to be in her power group.” Beatrice finally said. If she expected me to respond she was going to be disappointed.
“Are you going to tell me?” Beatrice asked. I looked at her shook my head and returned to my book. I had to give her credit as she interrupted her own frustrated growl and calmed herself. “You will not get me to attack,‘my queen’. You nearly got me, but I will not fall now I know how good you are, at pissing people off.” The venom that laced naming me her queen was dripping off the words.
I was thankful she had thought such an erroneous idea. I was trying to not answer her and learn magic. I definitely wasn’t ready for her to start attacking me. I didn’t intend to piss her off either, but needs must when the devil drives. We both got startled as the fifth period’s bell rang. Wow fourth period had been short.
“I know my sister would not like you. She knows we fought, and my losing makes her unprotected. Many witches would choose this time to hurt her. Thankfully, they can’t do much more than taunting as she is only eight.” Finally Beatrice was silent having run out of things to say and noticing I wasn’t paying her any attention.
“How did you protect my sister? I don’t think you even know who my sister is.”
“I know Louise, and aside her eyes’ colour, she looks fairly similar to you. Do you know her favorite doll is called Rebecca?”
“Fine, you know my sister.” She glared at me. It looks like I’d wound her up good and proper. “When did you meet her?”
“Come on Beatrice, obviously last night and this morning. I’ve talked to her a few times. Oh, and also last’s night dinner and this morning’s breakfast. We had a nice chat.”
“Lesley, my name's Walker, to you!”
“You can use either of my names, Lesley, Allana or Tegan, Beatrice. I don’t mind.” I countered.
Beatrice’s blue eyes came more alive the angrier she got. I’d managed to annoy her quite a bit. “This is all to distract me. Your lie over the pentumvirate is a delaying tactic. I will connect back with my allies in the fifth form and other years…
“Beatrice, I really would like to read this.” I interrupted the prefect. While she sat back seething,but at least I finally got back to studying. It was nearly ten minutes before she threw her next threat.
“As soon as I have completed my seventh-year trials, I am going to completely destroy you. Enjoy having a champion, while you can, my Queen.” She growled out and then rummaged around in her bookbag and grabbed her own book on hexes. She sat down right next to me and started her own studying. Thankfully I knew that before she has taken her seventh year trials she would have discovered she was more than three years my senior and thus, could not attack me, until I took my own seventh year trials. So, my abject fear could be dialed to a low enough setting that I could act unconcerned. With her mainly looking at her own book I could finally actually study.
It had been eye opening, but logical to discover that witches with birthdays after the winter solstice often were placed back a year. It was done to delay six months on taking the third-year trials. They wouldn’t take them in the prior summer if they were in their second year. It had the added benefit of taking the tests before expected. Beatrice’s birthday was in March, and so while she was two and half years older than Thomas, she was over three years older than Tegan and thus, unable to attack me once my true age, and Tegan’s birthday gets out.
We both glanced at each other’s books while studying. Most of the time when I glanced at her book it showed me foreign text or a blank page. So she was likely studying something way beyond my level. I went back to my own book. Occasionally I had to flip a few pages to get to ones I could read. I found a page full of legible text so I dived in and was lost to the advanced theory for immeasurable time.
“I don’t believe you can read that book.” Beatrice suddenly shot out. I looked over and saw her with her book open for once on a page I could see a smattering of words on. However, I decided to go back to reading mine and pretend I hadn’t heard her. “I knew it! I couldn’t believe that your book showed me nothing but blank pages on your every turn. True, you skipped some to make it look realistic that it was a book you were learning from, but I couldn’t read a single word. You can’t be that much better than me. Say you are better than me at hex magic. I bet you can’t say it.”
“Beatrice you’ve known me for less than a day, how can you know what I do and do not know?”
“I saw you glance at my current page and go back to pretending to read yours. I don’t think you can read either book.”
I glanced over at her book and was about to just choose a few random words, but part of what I read reminded me of something I’d read in my own book a bit earlier and I found myself drawn to work out why. It is a strange feeling when you know you’re on the threshold of working something out, and I grabbed Beatrice’s book to get it closer to me. I don’t know how long I was reading but I had a new hex castable with two words. Well one was a fairly long word. More of the page was available to read so I proceeded to start on learning the next hex, but Beatrice had decided enough was enough, and pulled the book from me.
“You had me fooled for a moment there, but the games up. To you it was a completely blank page…
“Actually, I just learnt from your text book a hex to stop your heart, and was working on learning one to cause arrythmia. Would you like me to bisect your heart with a single hex?” I countered, while cutting her off. I wanted to get her book back as I knew I could learn that hex. Most of what I’d found legible in my book was just theory, and a hex being available was like a gold nugget needing to be mined to strengthen me.
Beatrice scoffed at my riposte and replied. “I notice it’s convenient as no one is going to allow you to cast that hex at them and thus not provable.”
“Can’t you see any words on the page to know it is dealing with hexing the heart?” Then seeing something from the corner of my eye I crossed to one of the windows and opened it.
“Well sure, but to learn a spell in less than five minutes is ridiculous. You haven’t even practiced casting it and want me to believe you can go straight from theory to mastery without any practice.”
I was only half listening as I was looking to see another of what I’d seen before. Finally seeing one I not quite yelled. “Schism Myocardiocytes!” While looking at and miming slicing with my arm the dove flying over sundial lawn. The dove fell below the edge of sixth form terrace, presumably to the sundial lawn.
Beatrice didn’t look impressed, when I turned after closing the window. “I can silent cast a stunning spell while pretending to cast a spell too.” I couldn’t really use the argument that I couldn’t, to fight her downgrading of what I was so chuffed to have done. Heck, I hadn’t learned a stunning spell to vocally cast yet.
“Fine let’s head to the tennis pavilion and come back up across the lawn and you can try to wake the dove back up.” I replied and after grabbing a blade from my suitcase headed back to the fire-escape. I initially hadn’t been thinking, but then decided it might actually be a good way for us to bond. It would be a thing of legends. From enemy to friend by choosing to deliberately break the rules together. It was how I planned to sell it to the headmistress if she ever found out, anyway.
Beatrice followed and said nothing. She watched me placing blood on the door and doorframe and stepped back when I did. I managed to keep from spilling blood on my clothes this time, and cast the unlocking spell silently after speaking the rhyme for bypassing the alarm. She followed me through the opened door and quietly followed me down the stairs. I don’t think she thought it odd I checked the door was locked after that silent cast I made to re-lock it. She watched the fire-escape door turn back into the pavilion wall, and started to try to work out how to get the door back. I jumped down off the sheltered porch and crossed the two lawn tennis courts that were closest to the pavilion. The hard clay courts and last lawn court were beyond me to the left as I exited the gate in the mesh fence to the path along the bottom of sundial lawn.
I kept walking up sundial lawn trying to go to where I guessed the dove would have fallen. I heard Beatrice running behind to catch up. Once she had followed me in my hunt for a while, and just a bit before she was obviously getting ready to say something, I finally found the dove. It was closer to the wall than I had expected, and the pale brown plumage camouflaged well on the light brown stones of the path that bordered the top of the lawn along the bottom of the retaining wall of the sixth form terrace it had ended up falling on.
“You’ve been to this school before. You must spend your holidays here. You’re related to the headmistress.” Were the words Beatrice chose to wield at me having been proven wrong in me hitting the dove with a spell.
“Your bird. Aren’t you going to confirm I didn’t stun it?” I asked to avoid what she had said. I wasn’t supposed to let on that I was familiar with the school. I guess knowing how to bypass the alarms didn’t lend itself to being a new student and even admitting the headmistress clued me in on how to beat them left a different set of questions to answer. I ignored Beatrice just stepping away from the dove.
Beatrice eventually started casting spells at the bird. After the first one where I learned how to wake something up, I had no clue what she was casting. “The heart is split in two.” She finally mumbled looking at me with a bit of awe and fear.
“Willing to accept now that I can just learn a spell.” I asked glad to be vindicated.
“You probably already knew the spell…
I felt like banging my head against the retaining wall, better yet banging Beatrice’s head against the retaining wall. “Beatrice, even if that was the case. It proves I could read your book doesn’t it?” I turned and headed back toward the right of the lawn and the steps needed to get back to the level of the manor house.
“Where are you going?” Beatrice asked jogging back up to me again.
“Back to the dorm. I was studying. Before this…” I floundered a bit on being unsure what to describe this as.
“Why not go back up the fire-escape?”
“It’s one way.” I answered as if I was sure for all the world it was. I’m a firm believer in never admitting to being unsure of something.
“This is the sixth form terrace…
“You told me that the other day. I’m of the opinion, what the sixth form doesn’t know, won’t kill them. Unless it does, in which case, it was a moot point regardless.” I was in a rather flippant mood. Until she had told me the dove’s heart was split in two, I’d been wondering what we would find. That included if the dove would even be there.
Prior to Beatrice questioning my ability to go from theory to casting a spell with no practice, I’d had no doubt that this was how magic was learnt. It was why I’d more or less shouted the spell. I wanted to make damn sure it worked first time, as all my earlier hexes had. Now doubt had been added as a variable in learning to cast spells. I could have done without it.
Misses White threw her hands up in the air as she watched the two of us cross behind her office. I waved, and Beatrice just got a gob smacked expression. She was still bemused as I went into the third-year girls’ dorm first and cleaned my blood stains up before returning to our Seagull dorm.
I didn’t get any more studying time though; as the lunch bell rang when I gave up getting her book and sat down to study my own book. Beatrice had refused to let me look at her book. I was this close to learning the arrhythmia hex. For some reason, my offering her that explanation caused her to be more adamant to not let me read it. Further, saying I needed it for just a couple of minutes, caused her to blood lock it away in one of her drawers.
I hadn’t really thought about it, but I guess the reason the girls split sports between the first two years on Monday and Friday afternoons and the older members of high school on Wednesdays was due to the culling, and whatever caused the larger drop in sixth form girls’ attendance verses the number of returning boys. Thomas a third-year boy didn’t have sports on Wednesday afternoons. In the summer he played cricket with the first and second formers on Monday and Friday.
However, in the boys’ forms this made sense as with lower sixth and fifth repeat added together being about half the size of fifth form, and upper sixth about half again. You had two and three quarters of a form in one group and three forms worth of boys in the other. Whereas amongst the girls, firstly there was no fifth repeat, and secondly most of the lower and upper sixth hadn’t shown up to play tennis. The fact the number of sixth form girls was drastically lower than sixth form boys just marginalized the fraction even further. Add in the culling causing fourth and fifth form both being half the size of the other three, and you got two forms worth of girls in each of the groups they were split into, to play tennis.
Thus I could be mistaken for a fifth former while going to my correct third form class. Something which wouldn’t have been possible if I was still a boy. I then told myself it wouldn’t have been necessary if I’d managed to remain a boy.
I ran and swung my racket backhand and launched another tennis ball well over Coach Davis and into the mesh net fence that surrounded the six hard clay tennis courts. When I say this I make it sound that this was as bad as I’d done before.
This was actually not as bad. More often than not when I’d been doing forehand swings the ball went over the about twelve-foot-high net fence. It sounds even worse when I admit there was a second tennis court behind the coach before that net fence too.
I was zero for about thirty if you included both of my backhand and forehand efforts. Thankfully she hadn’t had me show my serve yet, as I don’t have one. Hopefully my evaluation of volleys would be better. I ran once more and over corrected limiting the power in my backhand swing so the ball didn’t clear the first low net it was supposed to go over. It seems I could clear two tennis court nets or none. My competitor just needed to play on the next court and I might be able to hit the ball a second time before I lose a point.
“No, No, No! Get off my court!” I ran to the side where the rest of the pentumvirate stood. Beatrice had accepted when she was hi-jacked at lunch. Can you say de-ja-vu? Her lunch press-ganging mimicked my dinner drafting in all, but food offered and the boy and matron distractions. Oh, and Beatrice didn’t get kicked out before eating too.
“At long last, something you’re terrible at, Tegan.” Beatrice offered as I came to stand beside her. She’d actually surprised the other girls calling me Tegan when they returned to the dorm and found us appearing to apparently be, best friends.
I decided to be mature and stuck my tongue out at her.“Hey, I’ve never played tennis before.” I added to aid in not seeming childish.
“What sport did you play?” Susan asked.
“Cricket, silly mid-off or first slip…” I sort of stalled my answer as I realized what I’d said, and the incredulous looks I was getting. “I was a tomboy, I couldn’t believe Ma White when she said they won’t let me play cricket.”
“Was! I think not only that ‘was’ is the wrong tense, but that you’re the biggest tomboy I’ve ever met. You’re not even wearing any make-up.” Susan rounded on me.
“… and yet she still looks that pretty!” Ashley said. “With a little effort you could turn the head of any boy.”
“What the fuck! No, thank, you!” I retorted angrily.
“You know, if you wore an engagement ring…
“Why the hell would I do that.” I interrupted Valerie. Could this conversation get any worse? Thankfully, Coach Davis cleared her throat and we fell back into line.
“You know what, why don’t the five of you take court seven. You can play doubles with the better duo handicapped with the vulgar one. Perhaps you could teach her tennis and how a young lady is supposed to act. Either one works for me.” Coach Davis told the five of us before moving on to team up some other girls.
“I don’t think she likes me.” I suggested after making sure the coach was well out of earshot.
“You!” Susan exclaimed. “We’re the ones that got saddled with you!”
“Yep, I wonder what we ever did to her.” Beatrice opined. Then quickly got away from my half-swung racket at her arse.
Two hours later and I had a weak second serve that almost anyone could return. However, at least it was mostly in play. I had a forehand and forehand volley that both nearly beat a coin toss in the odds of staying in play. I had next to no backhand worth mentioning except its volley that surprised me in how nearly good it was, and over five hundred bruises, grazes and scrapes. My tennis uniform had long left the colour white behind it. Who the hell decided that tennis would be played wearing this colour?
I’d also discovered that court seven was the ugly step child of the tennis courts. It was on its own with woods on three sides of it to steal the tennis balls that I could easily lob over the twelve or so foot nets. My argument that there were holes in the net fell on deaf ears, as apparently none of my shots were low enough to go through the holes in the old net. I saw two go through the holes but the other four refused to agree with me. And yes I know a net has holes. That was the first tease I’d got for saying it, but some of the holes are bigger than a tennis ball because the old tatty nets strung over tottering poles need to be replaced with new fine mesh fence nets on vertical posts like the other courts have. Heck even the metal mesh fence of courts eight and nine would be a huge upgrade.
There were a nice set of six hard courts in two rows of three that the coach mainly spent her time coaching the privileged players on.Two lawn courts numbered eight and nine, over beside the pavilion, and then ‘court seven’. For all it was supposedly a lawn court, either it got fed up of me crashing into it and decided to hit back like it was made of rock, or my tenderized flesh, after getting bruises on top of bruises became over sensitive to the lawn and caused the later hits to hurt so hard.
“So, Tegan, I think you were beginning to get the hang of it at the end.” Beatrice offered way too kindly as the summary of my last two hours.
“Are you sure she was playing tennis?” Susan offered.
“Hell you should know. That was what you were supposed to teach me.” I riposted.
“I actually asked them to aid in making you a lady or teach you tennis.” Coach Davis was suddenly beside me. Where the heck did she arrive from? “Well your tennis racket is still strung, and in one piece, and your diction is... Well let’s not expect miracles.” She opined.
Hmmph! “Do you think a lady would be dressed as I am?” I countered the coach as I was not going to let it go, that they had succeeded making me a lady.
Ashley decided to throw in her ‘tuppence’. “A lady would know when she needed to get changed.”
Turning on Ashley I replied. “I think anyone would know that how I’m currently attired, is not acceptable.”
“Well considering what they had to work with, I will allow them getting you halfway to a lady and halfway to learning tennis.” Coach Davis said and waltzed off before I could reply to that… that… slander. I stood with mouth slightly opened gob-smacked.
She was way beyond earshot before I finally yelled after her. “I’ll never be halfway to a fucking lady!” Then what I’d said hit me, and I looked at my four new 'friends' to see they’d hopefully not been listening and paying attention. Judging by the looks on their faces I was going to have to count myself zero for four on that hope.
“How do you half fuck?” Beatrice inquired.
Susan couldn’t leave it alone. “I thought it was tennis we were supposed to be teaching her.”
“We didn’t have hay.” Valerie said causing all of us to look at her incredulously.
“What!” Ashley shrieked for all of our benefit.
“How to half fuck,” was Valerie’s eloquent reply.
I couldn’t help it. Valerie was always so quiet prim and proper and yet she said ‘fuck’ as if it was a perfectly acceptable and polite word to say. There was none of the obvious glee kids put in to emphasis saying a bad word. “What do half fucking and hay have to do with each other?” I asked, because even though it was likely a step into the train wreck, I couldn’t stop myself.
“Well duh, they don’t, thus half fucking.” Valerie looked around at the four of us looking at her like she was mad. “Your tennis uniform is coated in grass stains and there is no hay. If you’d been rolling in the hay you would have been fucking. Ergo rolling without hay, half fucking.”
Valerie just looked at us, and I’m sure the other three were waiting for her to laugh. Ashley lost it first, but Beatrice and I were right behind her laughing too, and then I discovered Susan laughed like a drain pipe when she lost it. That is when she loses control; the laugh competes with the needed intake of the next breath. Causing a raspy suction of attempted in taken air, while the lungs are violently contracting.
That noise caused us to laugh even more; ‘till we all probably sounded that death by laughter could be in the cards. Valerie was laughing but the four of us were likely questioning if she was laughing because we were, or because of saying an odd joke without seeming to be trying to be funny.
“Hey Beatrice,” I called after getting a bit of control over my laughing. “Did you know I’ve been half fucked?”
“No Tegan, you are definitely, completely fucked.” Beatrice replied. Well thank you! I was thinking of counting you as a friend too.
Ashley chimed in. “Not until we find some hay.”
The question Tegan now ponders is 'Can there be a love triangle when one of the two people thinks there are three people involved?' Further, just how more can her life get complicated since drinking at the wrong pub, the peddler, Marie-Anne and unfortunately her/himself have caused her to be too far gone from his previous days as Thomas.
Beatrice and I got in the showers Valerie and Ashley had vacated. Susan was still laid out in repose in the prefect bathroom’s single tub. Having the hot water pounding on my skin offered it some relief from the earlier abuse. I popped a dollop of the shampoo Melissa’s Mum had demanded I used and wondered if there really would be a difference if I just used any shampoo when I finished this bottle.
“I’m actually surprised.” Beatrice’s voice wafted over the shower partition separating us. “I was expecting some off-brand shampoo.” Well even though I don’t know how she could see my shampoo bottle, she was almost definitely talking about me. I decided to not justify it with a response though. Ashley swung open my curtain which nearly had me having kittens.
“She doesn’t have any conditioner though.” Ashley offered. I tugged the curtain closed after turning to hide both my illusionary and real female assets, and the veiled others too, just in case the illusion fell.
“I have conditioner, but the bottle’s half the size so I only use it every other time I wash my hair.” I said to cover the embarrassment of having someone peer in the cubicle while I showered. A boy doing that would get a bad name. Was this normal amongst girls?
“I think it is hopeless, we can’t fix her.” Valerie stated.
Susan’s voice carried over both Beatrice and my cubicle partitions. “It will be hard work and require all four of us to put in one hundred ten percent commitment…
“One fifty.” Asley countered.
“She is worth it.” Valerie offered.
“Well when we finish, she will be.” Beatrice countered.
I wondered if I’d even get used to the bathroom bantering and if it wasn’t going to be always just me that was being ‘attacked’ or ‘helped’. The words were interchangeable dependent on my generosity. “Guys, not just no, but hell no.” I finally spoke having been able to get my head to the side of the spray once I’d got the suds out of my eyes.
“Methinks she doth protest too much.” Was Valerie’s insightful reply.
“Methinks I know many really lethal hexes.” I said while refusing to use the pronoun to make it sound closer to the actual quote and did I really want to talk in third person.
“Wow, Tegan knows how to half kill too.” Ashley stated.
“Not what I said.” I sang from the shower. “I know how to kill, and overkill. I failed learning how to partially kill.”
“Now that might just be the most truthful thing, we’ve heard Tegan say.” Beatrice interjected.
“Hey Ashley, take my conditioner and make sure Tegan uses it.” Susan said. I quickly grabbed the curtain to stop Ashley opening it again. After her initial pull failed to work I saw her shadow moving to the other side so I dropped the soap to hold that side too.
“Did you drop something?” I was flummoxed when Ashley’s head ducked in after she popped up the bottom of the curtain. “Soap! Let me save you.” I was too astounded to realize that standing holding one edge of the curtain to the cubicle wall on the right while my other arm was stretched to the left cubicle wall that I was completely on display, except thankfully for my daily veil spell. But that which mimicked Anne-Marie’s was being blatantly ogled. “Oh, I like how you groom your kitty.” Ashley had no shame in informing me.
“What!” Letting go of the curtain I cringed in the back of the cubicle, placing one arm high and the other low across my body. Ashley grabbed the soap and ducked out of my shower stall. “I’m throwing this in the bin before it does any more damage to your skin.” I wondered if I had shared the floor’s bathroom or gone to the locker room showers with the sixty plus other girls, it would have been better or worse. “You will thank me later. Oh, and here’s Susan’s conditioner. You use half what you use as shampoo. That’s why the bottle is half the size.” She opened the original side as I wasn’t holding it shut any longer.
Having finished my shower, I dried myself and wrapped my towel as best I could around all of me. I then exited to find the other three siting on stools in front of the mirror, and Susan still in the bath. “Thanks for your conditioner.” I placed said bottle on the tile mount. I was just about to open the door when Valerie twisted around on her seat and stopped me.
“Ah, ah, ahh. Tegan get you butt sat on the stool beside me right now.” The other two ignored me, carrying on drying their hair. A brush in one hand and hair-dryer in the other. “You are not, like this morning, going to dash out and dress with wet hair. I’ve finished mine and will show you how to take care of yours.” The only reason I didn’t carry on obliviously was I was worried about the possible ‘runner’ nickname.
Initially she told me what to do and kept criticizing me. After a while she grabbed both weapons from me and kept telling me to pay attention as she took care of my hair. When she was done, I had my straight off blond with blond highlights running smooth and straight down my back. Normally when I let it dry, I would have a slight frizz of strands with some curl. What Valerie had done was nicer, but I didn’t think it was worth the near half hour of effort. The hair fell almost straight except for being curled in at the bottom. Ashley and Beatrice had finished their own hair half way through the Valerie inflicted torture on mine and escaped the bathroom.
“Now sit still while I do your make-up…
“Hell no!” I quickly escaped the bathroom, and I didn’t run no matter what anyone else says. I walked really quickly after swiftly ducking passed Valerie’s attempt to stop me, and before Susan could get out of the bath to provide aid.
This morning was a rude wake-up call for me. I’d woken early. Likely due to the fear of my illusion spell dropping, even though it should be good for nearly four more hours. I guess having had it drummed in to recast it every morning, and the fact yesterday’s recast was done with still around fourteen hours of illusion left from the prior first-time cast, got me anxious.
The early morning sun was piercing the flimsy pink net curtains and Beatrice and I were the only ones spared having the thin line of sun shone across our heads amongst the eight of us sleeping beside the windows. Valerie had both turned to face Ashley and curled down the bed to avoid the narrow ray of sun. Ashley had pulled the covers and a pillow corner to stop the light waking her. In the fourth top bunk Susan was a lump of quilt so I was unsure which way she was facing.
Figuring I might as well get up I quietly flicked the quilt off me. Being forced to acknowledge I wore a thin nighty with knickers; versus the pajamas I used to wear was a rude wake-up call. There was an odd dichotomy of feeling the last physical part of Thomas trapped in knickers that didn’t show as the bulge it was, which was my actual wake-up call to get out of bed.
Then there was the annoyance of having to lower more of my body before finally stepping on the bar of lower bunk frame to get used to. Now I was a few inches shorter, I probably would need to get into the habit of climbing up and down at the bottom of the bed with the additional cross bars that the other girls use. No, I decided I would carry on pulling and lowering myself the harder way at the side just so I didn’t have to accept another thing lost, thanks to drinking at the Red Lion pub.
Stepping onto the cold linoleum, I quickly found my slippers. There was another thing I wouldn’t do that the other girls did. Sleeping in woolen socks, it just seemed far too odd. I tried not think I would revisit this when winter and snow came to the Yorkshire Moors, nor acknowledge I got my slippers on quicker than I used to. I also will deny that I was now thankful for the girly style slippers, my Grandma bought in Debenhams for my two sizes smaller feet. The new slippers had thicker fluffy fur inside them than the boy’s ones that no longer fit.
Grabbing my plain black washbag, one of the few things I succeeded in stopping my Grandma from changing to floral or worse pink, I headed for the bathroom. In the first toilet cubicle after locking the door I dropped the illusion and took care of the need that awoke me. I was just shaking it when I was startled into realizing I wasn’t alone in the bathroom as I had assumed. The noise of the cubicle door next to mine being opened and locked woke me to worry.
“Damn girl you really must have needed to go.” Beatrice called from the stall beside mine. Then I heard her going. It sounded really loud, making me wonder how much louder mine must sound, and I’d not thought about it. Thankfully she’d been close enough and hadn’t been bent over to notice my feet the opposite way a girl’s would have been. I really should sit to do it, as I could not assume another girl would not show up as Beatrice obviously had done. If it had been Ashley I could imagine her peering over or under the cubicle walls. “Oh, shit! Can you hand me some bog paper? No one replaced this one.”
I quickly pulled about thirty squares worth so she wouldn’t ask for more and passed it under the cubicle. “I only needed a square or two. Well I guess the rest can be in here ‘till the roll gets changed.” I took a breath to calm myself then flushed my loo and then recast my illusion and escaped the stall. I got to the sink I’d left my washbag at and realized thanks to Ashley throwing my soap away the other day I had none to wash my hands and face.
I was frowning when Beatrice joined me. “Wow, just being pestered in the loo messes you up for the whole day, huh?”
“No, Ashley threw my soap away yesterday and I won’t have any ‘till Friday as I forgot to put a request in for a new bar yesterday.” I said to explain why I was currently frowning. True my earlier fright of being caught with the illusion down was part of my frown, but I wasn’t going to say that.
“Here use this. I don’t mind sharing and will list a selection of the creams and lotions you need to take care of your skin. You are a lady now and can’t use soap. It really is bad for the skin. If you think your family won’t send them, we can work out something.” I had so many things to complain about that spiel I was lost on how to start.
With plug in the sink I ran the too hot and too cold water then splashed the warm water on my face and rubbed the sleeping dust from the corner of my eyes.
“Tegan, you really are stubborn. Here stop!” I turned in surprise to her sudden yell and got Beatrice’s hand rubbing some bumpy cream into my face. Glancing in the mirror I saw dots like seeds in the crème. Beatrice was also really close, and it felt nice having her hands on my face massaging my skin and looking at me so concentrated. “Woah stop those funny ideas Tegan. I like boys. I’m flattered, but uninterested.” She continued finishing rubbing my face and neck. “Now rinse that off and I have a crème for around your eyes and eyelids.”
As soon as I rinsed off my face, I quickly denied my interest in Beatrice, only to be interrupted. First to close my eyes lightly. The ‘lightly’ was added when I closed them apparently too tightly. The Second interruption was for a crème without bumps to be brushed across the lids and around the eyes teasingly by her fingers. Lastly, she shot down my denial saying it was completely obvious I was interested in her.
“Don’t panic Tegan, I won’t tell, though the others will work it out. Clarissa is your best bet in our year, she is most likely at least bi curious. Who knows what Ashley is, but I think a relationship with her would be just tiring.” My blushed attempt to deny being ready for a relationship with anyone was once more ignored. Then of course I found things could always get way worse.
“Tegan, I am interested in what’s going on with Thomas, and would allow him as my husband to breed you as many times as needed, if it’s your Grandma that is the one forcing the engagement…
I found you can choke on air if certain comments are made. Thankfully after I recovered and before Beatrice made another attempt at sharing Thomas, Susan arrived, and I ran from the bathroom having seen an escape through the opened door. If I was two people, then one of me could get a pretty cushy deal. The problem is I was more Tegan than Thomas and Tegan’s side of the deal sucked.
I threw my clothes on and grabbed my shoes and dived out of the dorm. “Tegan, stop running away!” I ducked around Beatrice and ran down the stairs I was sure she wouldn’t follow in her nightclothes. “Tegan, you left your washbag and towel in the bathroom! Tegan!” I didn’t look up the stairwell that the last Tegan had been shouted down but continued into the library and found a chair to put my shoes on.
I then made my way through two of the girls’ common rooms to the stackyard and on to the dining room.
Of course, breakfast wasn’t ready seen as the wake-up bell had only just rung, but the kitchen was empty and therefore there was no one to tell me off as I filled the kettle and placed it onto the hotplate’s I’d uncovered from the aga oven top. Getting a plate and utensils from where they were stored, I opened one of the walk-in fridges and grabbed one of the breakfast prepared butter dishes and an opened jar of marmalade off a shelf. I then popped a tea bag in a mug and cut a thick wedge crust off a new loaf of bread taken from the stack of them in another warmer walk-in using the bread slicer after turning it on. While my wedge toasted in the aga I took the now boiling kettle off its hotplate and made my tea.
Kettle onto trivet, hotplate re-covered, check the wedge was toasted. It needed another couple of minutes, so I adjusting the slicer to a thinner cut and sliced the rest of the loaf ready for breakfast. Then turned the slicer back off and brushed the crumbs into one of the bins. Next with my grabbed plate I rescued my wedge from the oven. Using a knife to dollop two squares of butter to melt onto my wedge I then used a spoon for some of the school made marmalade. Good English marmalade with thick orange and lemon rind chunks and minimal sugar as the ripe oranges provide most of the needed sweetness to the tart and tangy bitter spread. Wakes you up faster than a cup of coffee.
I’d just dropped knife and spoon into a sink when matron Bell arrived. “Morning matron, there’s fresh boil in the kettle and one of the loaves is sliced for you.” I ducked out of the kitchen, having confused the matron, before she could tell me off. Now where to eat my breakfast without interruption before classes?
I chose the assembly hall. It was one of the converted farm barns. A third of it was a raised stage that our emptied trunks were stored beneath. I sat on the stage in my school skirt with my legs dangling. Alone and able to enjoy my thick crust of toast and piping hot black tea. While I enjoyed my breakfast the bell for actual breakfast rang.
After finishing my toast and tea I got onto the stage and left my mug on the headmistress’s podium. It would get to the kitchen for cleaning after assembly and I could avoid where I was expected to be. I then hit the ladder to the loft and through the fire-escape door on the north wall of the barn. A metal gantry is attached on the exterior side of the stackyard’s converted barns at both first and the second-floor height. I was currently at the higher height. I used the gantry to pass a couple of classrooms and three storage rooms before using one of the sets of stairs to get back down the two flights to ground level. Using the passageway between the row of barns and the stables, I re-entered the stackyard and came back to the manor house front entry.
I found my wash bag and towel had been returned to the dorm and placed on the end of my bed. Reclaiming them I cleaned my teeth and then put them away in the dorm. I got my book bag ready for the three classes I had in the first five periods of Thursdays. Then of course there will be lunch and I’ll get to find how the fifth form react to a member of the pentumvirate being in third form. The silver lining it sure will distract Beatrice from her latest attempt to find out about Thomas.
I reversed my course from dorm back to the assembly barn. While I was nearly across the stack-yard I saw students leaving the dining room so quickly finished crossing it to get to the passageway to be on the far side of the barns before I was noticed. Then up to the second gantry walkway into the loft and down the ladder to the assembly hall’s stage. I decided I had time to take my empty cup to the kitchens as they should be by now emptying of students. Looking and seeing no older girls leaving the dining room I crossed the stackyard and timed entry into the dining room when there was a lull of those exiting.
I’d just dropped the cup on one of near empty tables closest the door when I was interrupted. “Tegan, why are you avoiding my sister?” Louise asked in her all innocent large doe eyes and peeked curiosity way.
I’d forgotten this table was the first and second form primary girls table. “Good morning Louise, are you ready for school today.”
“Yes, are you going to answer my question.” Louise added as I had turned to go.
“I’m not avoiding your sister Louise…
“Great to hear. I see you have your book bag already though so are you going to walk me to our dorm?” Beatrice popped up from where ever she’d been hiding. “Bye Louise.” I then found my arm tugged into Beatrice’s looped arm and pulled toward the exit.
“Why don’t I wait for you in the assembly seen as I’m ready?” I extricated myself and made my bid for freedom.
“Do you even know where fifth form line up?” Beatrice countered. “You may as well come back to the dorm as we do have something to discuss.” It appeared I needed to distract and confuse her some more as she was determined to getting back to working out one thing. On the one hand I didn’t like that Thomas was only considered for his value on providing magical children, but on the other if I was still me then I’d have a drop dead gorgeous girl pursuing me.
“I know where the assembly hall meets and I can work out where to stand as others arrive.”
“Tegan, I’m unsure if you realize as you act like it’s no big deal, but you do know that you’ve been set-up to fail being made Defender of both first and second primary form girls?”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m taking trials before I am forced to defend two who are old enough to fight. Their protected as pupa ‘till high school.” Glad to be on a different conversation I tried to let her know there was nothing to worry about.
“Oh, so you do understand that Miss Swanson set precedent by making you Louise’s specific defender?” I nodded. “It isn’t being her defender that is your problem, it is the fact your defender includes the year above too in general. People will find ways to make you a specific defender of as many of the second form girls as they can before year end.”
I suddenly realized that I couldn’t let Beatrice know this wasn’t a concern, especially until after this summer’s third year trials were completed. I needed those six more months to study. While I was wondering what to say I got blindsided once more.
“I’m prepared to help, Tegan. We can discuss in class, but just think. If we were sister wives then I could aid in when there were two you must defend, getting into a need to fight. It would buy you the needed year ‘till seventh year trials. Effectively give those you must specifically defend an extra year as pupa, and all it costs is you allowing me to be Thomas’s primary wife. Hell, being together would give you a chance to prove to me that there is value in me considering alternative types of relationships…
Reeling away I made a good distance of escape before calling back. “Look it’s not the problem you think. Good luck with class. I’m not in yours as I’m not in the fifth form.”
Beatrice’s initial surprise turned into panic and fear which I wasn’t expecting her reaction to morph into. She quickly crossed to me and almost hissed “Ma White and you are guilty. As by both placing you in Seagull and having me provide the unneeded familiarizing tour of the school is grounds for me assuming you weren’t sixth form. If you try to get me in trouble for unauthorized access on sixth form terrace I have rights to think you were breaking the same rule. Also you bypassed the alarm on fire-escape. Even as a sixth former you will be in trouble for that.”