Another little piece about Jill. I have changed the official Narnia timeline a bit, because I just do not see the Silver Chair going on in the middle of the War, as well as for other reasons that it would take too long to talk about here. You are welcome to discuss it with me privately, though. And in case you wonder, of course this comes before chapter one!

And even if you don't believe it, that maths question is completely authentic.

Eleven-Plus

It was hot in the gym- stifling hot. The sun beat down on the corrugated iron roof that had been put up after the school had been bombed a couple of years ago, and, for some reason or other, had never been replaced. Rows of desks were set up in the gym, and at each of the desks sat a girl in threadbare uniform, the plaited skirts shiny with wear, and the formerly white blouses greyish from innumerable washings.

It was completely silent, save for the scratching of pens on rough paper, the occasional sigh, the suppressed sob. A grey-faced, exhausted-looking teacher paced between the desks, her eyes glinting malevolently behind her glasses.

The arithmetic paper had eight questions, and Jill Pole had already done seven of them. A glance at the clock on the wall told her there were still some ten minutes left for number eight. Maths had never been a problem to her, and she had found the first seven questions quite easy, so she confidently read the last one:

A soldier's step measures 2'6 ½". How many miles does he travel in 2hrs40mins, if he takes 128 steps a minute?

Quite automatically, Jill did the sum and wrote the answer. Then she hesitated.

"But -," she said to herself, "That's hardly possible! Are they trying to trick us?"

She thought again, and then she wrote next to the figure that she had already written down:

"Nobody could possibly walk like that, and most certainly not for two hours and forty minutes."

Smiling to herself, she raised her hand.

"I'm finished, ma'am."

A reluctant smile appeared in the teacher's face for a second.

"Ah, Pole; I might have known."

And while around Jill several girls looked up enviously, the teacher collected Jill's paper.

"How did you find the exam?" Gladys Pole asked, when Jill entered the basement kitchen.

"It was easy," Jill said proudly. "You know that arithmetic is one of my strong points, Mum. But there was that one question…"

Mrs Pole looked up from her cooking.

"Yes?" she asked anxiously.

"It's nothing, mum, I did answer it and I answered it correctly, I'm sure. It's just that it was so stupid. About a soldier-,"

Her mother sighed.

"As if we didn't have enough of war and soldiers," she said and her voice sounded grey.

"Yes, mum. But the funny thing was that that soldier would have to keep marching at more than two steps a second for almost three hours! Nobody can do that! Do you think they wanted to test our understanding?"

"I doubt it, darling," Mrs Pole smiled tiredly. "Not if I know how schools work. It's far more likely whoever designed that test just didn't bother. But you did get it right, didn't you?"

"Yes, mum, don't worry. And I wrote that it was impossible, too…"

"You did? Jill, isn't that asking for trouble? You know how important the eleven-plus is… Did you really jeopardise your chances just to be clever?"

"But mum, don't you think someone will notice that I am right and appreciate it?"

"Let's just hope so, my girl, let's just hope they do…"

"The cheek!" the examiner exclaimed, upon reading the answer Jill had written. "Who does the little brat think she is?"

"But it's clever of her, John, you'll have to admit that," his colleague said, glancing over at the paper. "Really, sometimes I wonder who dreams up these questions. And the sum is correct, isn't it?"

"That it is, Clive, as is all the rest of the paper," the other man grudgingly admitted. "A hundred per cent, best paper of them all." He glanced at a list on his desk. "Let me see – Pole… Pole … ah, here she is – yes, top among the English papers, too…"

"So we'll have to put her on the list of scholarship recommendations, won't we?"

"Much as I dislike that cheek, we have no choice, I suppose. There's only a handful that have got a hundred per cent."

"I don't see any problem with that 'cheek' as you call it. It shows a healthy and critical attitude and an open mind, qualities sadly missing in today's youngsters. And not only youngsters," he added silently to himself.

"Well, Clive, have it your own way. It's still cheek to me. But – why don't we recommend her to that new crazy school new over in the Lake District? Wossname? Some kind of House or other?"

"Experiment House. They are supposed to have the most modern and liberal attitude towards learning and education. If anybody appreciates this girl's ideas, it will be them."

"Mum! The results!" Jill came running into the tiny living room waving an envelope excitedly.

With trembling fingers Mrs Pole tore the letter open.

"Oh Jill!" she sighed looking up. "You've made it! Full marks everywhere! Oh, I'm so proud of you!"

Jill threw herself into her mother's arms and they remained standing there for a short time, enjoying the happy moment.

"What's that?" Mrs Pole said when she looked at the letter again. "There's a second page… Jill, just listen to this!

We are happy to inform you that your daughter Gillian has been awarded a full scholarship at Experiment House, Lake District. The scholarship will cover full board and lodging, as well as tutoring fees, books and other essentials. We would like to ask you to inform the London School Board by return of post whether you accept the scholarship. In case of your acceptance, the Head of the school will contact you concerning further arrangements.

A scholarship, Jill! Isn't that fantastic?"

"Yes, mum."

"But Jill, it's more than we could ever afford! It's the chance of a lifetime! What's the matter, child? Aren't you happy?"

"Lake District, mum! Hundreds of miles away from you!"

"I know, dear, I know. And I'll miss you terribly… But it will be so good for your education, you understand that, don't you? A good school opens up all sorts of opportunities…"

A strange feeling swept through Jill's mind.

How do you know it's a GOOD school?

But she did not say it aloud.

A/N: Anybody going to work out that maths problem? 