Hello one and all! Haleybob here. I've had this story idea for quite awhile, and I think it'd be fun to write for you Mary Poppins' fans! It's pretty interesting, and I hope you like it! ...Mind you, this school I've created doesn't actually exist and I don't live in England so if anything is wrong, do overlook it. I'm just writing a fun story.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Mary Poppins or the actors/actresses, but I DO own the idea for this story.
Part One:
It was raining in London, again. The morning light made no difference to the dreary drizzle that came down and everything was soon wet and dark. A carriage rode past the misty streets, clattering against wet cobblestone roads. Inside, a young face could be seen sulking at the window. The blue eyes seemed to take in the rain outside, turning them dark and sad. A sigh leaked out from the girl's downcast figure.
"Mary, come away from the window." A stern voice instructed. "Sit up properly."
Mary Poppins, for it was she, unwillingly turned around in her seat to face the one who spoke. Mrs. Poppins, a tall stern woman with a grim mouth, frowned disapprovingly at her daughter. Recognizing the look, the girl quickly sat up as straight as she could and fixed her face to become a politely neutral gaze, folding her hands primly on her lap. The frown faded.
"Much better," her mother said, "now you look like a proper young lady."
Mary blinked, not trusting to say a word. Truly, if she was honest to herself, she couldn't care less of what she looked like. It was always a chore for her to be 'proper'. But her parents expected it from her. Mary would work hard if only to please her parents. There was no room for Mary to please herself. That wasn't proper.
Mrs. Poppins looked almost sentimentally at her only daughter before taking out her bag and setting it on her lap, digging inside its contents. Her daughter watched her silently.
Mary knew that her mother was the most proper British woman in all of Britain. Her gloves were always clean, her dress always smooth and starched. Her mother never forgot her black umbrella on rainy days, and she always knew what to say when people greeted her. She never laughed obnoxiously and only would cough very softly in her hand embroidered handkerchief. She never sneezed in front of guests and always served tea at the exact same time.
"Now, Mary," her mother started, bringing out papers. "You must turn these in to Mistress Hemmington when we arrive. She'll know what to do with you."
Mrs. Poppins handed the papers to Mary, who took them as unwillingly as she had turned away from her perch at the carriage window. She looked over the portfolio and the neat hand writing of her mother with indifference. It stated her name, Mary Poppins, and her age, sixteen and a half, along with her birth date up near the top. The rest was a fill out of her past grades and accomplishments, which, sadly weren't many. She looked back up at her mother with undisguised frustration.
"Mary," her mother said warningly, reading her expression well, "it is your father and my wish that you go to this school. You will be able to learn much more than what we can teach you ourselves. Now don't look at me that way, you are going. Not every girl gets accepted into this program so we are very lucky you got accepted at all!"
Mary glared out the window, refusing to meet her mother's gaze. No matter what they told her, it always felt as if they were getting rid of her. But she didn't dare say this to either her mother or her father. Her father would be too busy, anyways. Mary barely saw her father. He was always working, always worrying of his position. Now, with her parents carting her off to some unknown school, she would know neither of them.
"Besides," Mrs. Poppins continued, unaware of Mary's thoughts, "with this opportunity, you will be able to gain a respectable living. If you graduate, you will be at the best spot to make your life."
The carriage started to slow and the rain continued to pour.
"You will be able to make a good life, Mary," her mother said seriously. "So please do your best."
Mary met her eyes and was surprised to find that her mother's were shining. Her mother never cried. She started to speak, but the carriage stopped and the door was opened. Jeffery, their coach driver, held open the door and peered inside, waiting with a black umbrella in hand. Mrs. Poppins regained her composure and dug inside her bag once more. She pulled out a pair of silken white gloves and looking at them for a moment, placed them in Mary's hands.
"These are for you," she said while Mary stared, "Take care of them. Your father and I will send your pocket money weekly for you."
"Mother…" Mary started to speak but Mrs. Poppins waved her out.
"Go on!" the woman said, "you're letting in the rain."
Mary swallowed back her own tears and stepped out of the carriage, taking Jeffery's hand to help her down the little stairs. The servant shut the door and handed the umbrella to Mary, with a kind smile. She watched as he unloaded her bags to the sidewalk and looked behind her at the boarding school she would be staying at.
The first she saw before her were the gates. They were large and made of a greened copper, with spikes along the top. Golden handles shone dully with wet and a chain with an iron bell stood at the top. The building beyond the gates was tall as a church house, with a single stained glass window at its peak. Dark slate roofs slanted down, water trickling from its edges. The whole building seemed to be the same structure as a church and the capital's bank put together. All was made with white and grey stone, the tall windows unlighted and cold.
While she stared, Jeffery had finished unloaded her baggage and came up to the gate to ring the bell two times. He tipped his dripping hat at Mary, and hopped aboard her family's carriage nimbly. Mary's mother could be seen at the window, and to Mary's shock, she was dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. With a command from Jeffery, the horses started off. Mary took a step back out of the way, clutching her mother's last gift to her. She did not wave, but stared as her old life clattered away in the black carriage. The mist soon overtook the streets and then her mother was gone.
"Miss…?" a voice from behind her made her gasp and turn around.
Someone was behind the gates, waiting patiently. Mary blushed and came forward, realizing she had stood in the rain like a fool watching her mother in front of someone. The aged man behind the gates appeared to be the gatekeeper, for he had a raincoat and his own umbrella. She could not see his full face behind his scarf he wore around his neck.
"I'm Mary Poppins," Mary introduced herself, peering in the gates. "I'm the new student starting today."
"So you are, so you are," the man said and with a jangle of hidden keys, the gate was opened. "Welcome, Miss Poppins."
"Thank you," she said nervously.
She watched him hobble over to her bulky bags and with difficulty, picked up two in each hand. They both looked at the large fifth bag remaining on the ground, then at each other. Mary blushed and rigidly snapped her umbrella shut, tucking it under her arm. The gatekeeper watched with no remarks. With both hands, the girl seized the thick handle and dragged the bag over to the man's side. He smiled sheepishly at her and she returned the timid smile, feeling a little better that he didn't remark on her improper manners.
"The name's Ferdinand." The old man wheezed as they trudged inside the gates. "But everyone here just calls me 'Pappy'. So you can, too."
She gave a little smile at this which he returned again encouragingly. He kicked the gates closed with his foot, grunting as the gates clanged shut loudly. The way from the gates to the school was a short distance, but Mary felt it was much longer. She didn't realize how heavy her bags really were and soon felt sorry for Pappy as he panted alongside of her. She wasn't able to pick her own bag fully off the ground, but had to drag it across the lumpy cobbled walkway. It got stuck sometimes and she would have to stop and free it. Pappy took this time to rest and catch his breath.
Neither of them said anything more, but he often smiled at her over his thick scarf if she got the chance to look at him. It made her feel much better, as most of the adults in her life never smiled at her genuinely. They were both fully soaked from the rain as they came up to the door. Pappy sighed with relief as he set down his burdens and Mary could only join in that sigh, feeling a little silly that she was so tired after hauling only one. The gatekeeper then knocked at the large wooden door and bowed to Mary.
"Good luck, Miss Poppins," he said, and he returned to his post.
"Thank you…Pappy." Mary said, with a small grin.
She turned her attention back to the door and unfolded her umbrella once more. Not soon after, it opened.
"Miss Mary Poppins, is it?" A large woman asked, peering out of the door.
Mary stiffened, then nodded, surprised that they already knew her. The woman nodded back, and opened the door wider, allowing the girl in.
"Step inside, now," the woman said, "Don't let the rain in."
Mary hurried through and other servants went out to collect her bags. The large woman supervised, motioning for Mary to stand off to the side, which she obeyed meekly. She had a chance now to look over this new person. The woman was indeed a larger woman than either Mary or her mother, with round cheeks and small, beady eyes. A black dress with a starched white collar and cuffs let her know this was merely a servant, another helper in the school. A tight black bun and a crisp little maid's bonnet perched on the round head.
"Don't stare, Miss Poppins," she suddenly said, whisking Mary back into reality. She looked her over. "Good heavens, why are you all wet? You had your umbrella!"
The maid tutted over the state of Mary's clothes and hair, pulling at each despairingly. The girl tried to explain while trying to keep the maid's hands off her.
"No, I had to help Pappy...um…Mr. Ferdinand." Mary said, swatting away a hand that pulled at her sleeve. "He couldn't get my last bag so I decided to help…"
Steps from behind the two made them turn. The maid immediately ducked into a curtsey. Mary turned around to see a new person approaching, but she was nothing like the round maid, or like the old gatekeeper. If anything, Mary could only understand that she was like her mother, but only so much more.
A tall woman in a strict black dress approached, but her face was not completely strict like Mary's mother. The woman had long stern features, with a Roman nose and dark eyes. Everything about her was in order, and in practically perfect order at that. Her dark hair, her hands neatly held, her head proudly held tall.
"Miss Poppins, is it true you did the work of a servant?"
The voice rang clear and commanding. If the girl was a soldier in the British army, she would have stood at attention. Instead, she bent her knees in a clumsy curtsey to avoid meeting this powerful woman's eyes.
"Yes, ma'am," she replied, "I had to help Pappy…"
"That is not your job," the woman interrupted.
Mary looked up in confusion.
"Ma'am?" she asked uncertainly.
The woman pointed elegantly towards the closed door, and if she could have pointed through the building, to the gatekeeper's post.
"It is Mr. Ferdinand's job to carry your bags." She said firmly, "Ladies do not carry their own bags, if there are servants to do that for them. Refrain from making that a habit."
Mary could only stare and nod obediently, not sure what to say next. The dark eyes seemed to peer into her very being, matching her up to what Mary was really supposed to be. It felt that all of her faults were being laid out by this woman. Mary didn't like it. Finally the woman's eyes released her and she turned to the maid, who was at attention, listening to anything she had to say.
"Do you have her papers?" she asked the maid.
Mary spoke up.
"Please, ma'am, I… my mother, she gave me the papers." She got them out of her side pocket of her dress, cleverly sewn in by herself. "She told me to give them to Mistress Hemmington."
The woman came forward and took the papers, surprising Mary into silence again. The lady looked them over as scrutinizing as Mary herself until she finally gazed back up.
"I am Mistress Hemmington," said Mistress Hemmington with the first smile Mary had seen. "Welcome to my school, Miss Poppins."
Mary curtsied again, still unsure of what to say. Thankfully, it seemed that Mistress Hemmington was done, for she turned and ordered the maid (who still stood attentively) to take her to her room. Then, she walked down another hallway. The maid turned back to Mary.
"Come along, then," said the maid gruffly and started off.
Now with no one speaking to her, Mary could look about her new home. She found that it wasn't the same as her quaint little home in London at all. There were no white walls with cream trimming, or fancy display cases filled with glass animals. There didn't seem to be any decorations she would have had at home, either. No, it was more like a bank or business place made of cold stone and wood. Paintings were hung, but each were so different from each other that Mary could not help but wonder if each student just brought their own from their homes.
Rugs instead of carpeting covered the floor and the doors all were of the heavy wood of the main door. The only thing that comforted Mary was that it was light inside. Instead being dark and oppressing, the tall windows were many and large with light, gauzy curtains. The dull light of the outside seeped into the building and lit it quite well enough. She could also see lamps placed in the corners and wall lights between the doorways. Each door, Mary noticed, had something carved on it, animal or plant. First a lion, then a rose, and once even a spider to her disgust.
They didn't see anyone, and Mary timidly asked the maid where everyone was.
"Their classes, of course." The maid said over her shoulder, looking surprised. "Every day students' take their courses just like any other school, with special classes every other day. You won't be taking any of them today, since you just arrived, but try to learn your way around quickly."
The girl agreed and could only look around in wonder. How was she to remember where anything was? It felt impossible. Twice she felt sure that they passed the entrance hall, but then, everything seemed to look like the entrance hall. She felt so confused. Mary almost wished she was back at home, in her nursery of her childhood, playing with old dolls. But no. She shook her head. She would have to do as her parents said, and do her best here. Perhaps she could prove to them she was a good daughter.
"Here we are," the maid said, opening up a room with a key.
Mary watched as she opened the door for her. The door had a robin etched on it.
"This is your room, Miss Poppins," the maid explained as Mary walked in. "I'll come back and get you when it is lunch time. Good day and for heaven's sake, get dry clothes on."
She curtsied and left, closing the door behind her. Mary could only look around for the bed, where she sat. At first she wondered where her clothes were, but there they sat in the corner of the room she had not noticed before. It was a normal sized bedroom, only for Mary Poppins to live in. It was comfortable.
"This is my home, now," she told herself, taking the pins out of her dark brown hair, letting it all hang down. "So I must get used to it."
She looked around for a mirror, and found one hanging by a window she took delight in. She started to fix her hair, squeezing the water from the rain from it.
"I suppose I shouldn't have done that," she scolded herself, "walking in the rain like that."
While she was squeezing her hair out, she stared at herself, looking at her face. Sad blue eyes reflected back at her around a pretty face. Then, suddenly the eyes grinned and one winked at her. She blinked. She didn't wink just now, did she…? She dropped her hands and stared harder in the mirror, making sure her eyes were the same. The other reflection of her eye winked at her again. Mary gasped and stood away.
What was wrong with the mirror? She didn't wink. She didn't know how to wink! Feeling a little frightened, she peered at her mirror again, but her reflection only mimicked what she was doing at the moment. She sighed. Maybe she just imagined it.
"What is place?" she asked no one.
Thank you for reading! What do you think?? Hate it? Love it? Either way, I'll keep writing...any suggestions for improvement are well accepted!