Free Apple of My Eye by Patrick Redmond Page B

mother never came.
    Auntie Emma and Uncle George were very kind. Auntie Emma, young and pretty, took her on picnics by the river and trips to Oxford for new clothes and toys, and once to see
Peter Pan
at the theatre. Uncle George, homely and nudging middle age, was an architect who helped her draw pretend cities and told her stories about New York, where he had lived for three years and which was the most exciting city in the world.
    Auntie Emma and Uncle George had a friend called Mr Bishop who was a lawyer and also lived in Queen Anne Square. When he came to visit he told Susan to call him Uncle Andrew. He had a sports car and once took Susan and Auntie Emma for a drive in the countrywith the roof down and the wind blowing in their faces. He thought that Susan looked like Elizabeth Taylor too.
    Whenever she asked about her mother they said that there was no need to worry. ‘Mum’s gone on holiday but she’ll be home soon and wanting to know all your news.’ The explanation came with smiles that were just a little too bright and told her that they were lying.
    Sometimes, when she couldn’t sleep, she would creep downstairs to eavesdrop on their conversations. From these she gathered that her mother had had something called a breakdown, that she was in a special hospital and that they were all very worried about her.
    She never told them what she had heard because she knew they didn’t want her to find out. They didn’t want anyone to find out.
    But of course people did.
    A hot Monday in September. The first day back at school. Susan’s teacher was taking the class for a nature walk.
    They took the path by the river that led west out of town and on towards Kendleton Lock. They walked in pairs, the boys wearing caps, the girls hats, to keep the sun off their heads. Their teacher, Mrs Young, kept up a running commentary on the surrounding fauna but no one listened, all too busy exchanging waves and greetings with the people on the brightly coloured narrow boats that were waiting to pass through the lock and continue their journeys down river.
    Eventually the high spirits boiled over. As they walked through a field of bored looking cows the boy at the front of the line started hurling the caps of his friends into the river. The line came to an abrupt halt as Mrs Young scolded him and a good-natured boatman tried to rescue the fast-sinking caps with a fish hook.
    Susan and Charlotte, standing near the back, discussed which narrow boat they liked best. Susan favoured one called
Merlin
, less for the castles painted on its side than for the yellow dog sunning itself on the roof. Charlotte was just telling Susan which boat she liked when Alice Wetherby announced that people who wore glasses were ugly.
    Charlotte fell silent. She was the only person in the class to wear glasses and hated doing so. Charlotte’s mother and Susan were always telling her that they looked nice but she didn’t believe them.
    ‘People who wear glasses are ugly,’ said Alice again. Louder this time.
    ‘I’m not ugly,’ Charlotte told her.
    Alice grinned, pleased to have provoked a reaction. She was a pretty girl with long blonde hair. ‘Yes you are. You’re the ugliest person in the world.’
    ‘I’m not!’
    Alice began to prod Charlotte with her finger. ‘Ugly ugly ugly.’ Alice’s gang took up the chant, surrounding Charlotte and prodding her too. They enjoyed picking on people. The previous term they had taken against a girl called Janet Evans and tried to stop all the othergirls from speaking to her. Janet had been very upset.
    As was Charlotte. She shook her head, close to tears. Charlotte was afraid of Alice. But Susan wasn’t. She pushed herself into the circle and shoved Alice away. ‘You leave her alone. You’re the ugly one.’
    ‘Shut up!’
    Susan began to prod Alice. ‘Make me.’
    ‘Stop it!’
    ‘Make me!’
    ‘Stop it, loony mother!’
    Susan stopped. ‘What?’
    ‘Your mother’s a loony.’
    ‘No she’s