Chapter Three
"Mother?" I said, shocked by the sudden amount of tears on her face.
"I'm sorry, dear." She sobbed, wiping at her eyes and forcing a smile onto her face that I could tell she didn't mean. "Darling, would you mind not mentioning this to your father?" I nodded, still stunned.
"Thank you, Ina. You don't know how much this means to me."
"Uh… Should we go inside?"
"Oh! I'm so sorry. Yes, let's go." And she jumped to her feet, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes and taking a deep breath. She smiled reassuringly at me, her face giving away no evidence at all that she had just been crying.
"Are you alright?" I asked, unsure of how to react to her outburst.
"Yes, dear. I'm fine, thank you." She smiled again and this time it convinced me. I nodded and walked up the steps to stand beside her. She tossed her curls away from her face, took another thought collecting breath, and banged the knocker down on the oak door. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye and saw her looking straight ahead, determined as ever. I sighed and looked back at the door just in time to see it open and a rather old lady appear. My mother grinned delightedly and greeted the woman.
"Bridget! You're still here! I'm so glad."
"Why, if it aint Ms. Gemma!" said the old lady, smiling at my mother in a crinkly way that was slightly terrifying.
"And who's this?" She said, looking at me quizzically.
"Ah, yes. Bridget, this is my daughter, Ina. Ina, say hello to Bridget. She's worked here ever since I was at school." My mother beamed at Bridget, although only I noticed that her green eyes were filled with worry.
"Pleased to meet you, Bridget." I said, smilingly.
"Ina… Humph. Well, I guess I'd better get you up to Mrs. Nightwing."
"Oh, yes. Tell her Gemma says hello."
"Ya can't stay?" Said Bridget, obviously annoyed by this fact.
"Sadly, no. I must get home." She gave Bridget an apologetic look and then turned to me. "Ina, dear, Have a good time. Write me often, alright?" She bent down, swept the hair out of my eyes and kissed my forehead.
"I will, Mother. Goodbye."
"Bye, darling." And then with one last smile she turned and walked down the steps to the cab.
"Alright then, child. Let's go." Bridget grumbled, as she turned towards a large staircase. I followed her, having no wish to stay in the dark entrance hall alone.
We walked in complete silence, save the painful squeaking of my boots on the hard wood floor. When we reached the top of the staircase, we turned left, past pictures of girls looking solemn in their black and white frames. I stopped to look at one in particular although I don't know why it drew my attention. Maybe it was because, unlike the others, it had no date on it. Maybe it was because it was the only one framed with a slightly fancier frame, as if it were from somewhere else. But no matter the reason, I stopped to look at it, staring into the apathetic faces of the girls their, trailing my finger across the names. Then my finger stopped at a girl with tumbled curls and freckled skin. I read the name below and smiled, saying it quietly in my head, Gemma Doyle.
"You comin' or not?" Bridget's voice echoed through my hazy mind and registered there, making me turn away from the picture of my mother and run after her, passing a huge oil painting of a lady with silver hair who looked severely down at me as if I were doing something wrong. I hurried on, hoping that whoever that was, she didn't work here anymore.
Bridget stopped at a tall door and raised her meaty fist to bang on it twice. I felt the sudden urge to laugh, it was all so prim and proper, but I restrained myself with difficulty.
"Come in." said a sharp voice I was not likely to forget any time soon. We entered and I found myself in a large study, fitted with a tall bookcase and a handsome desk behind which was seated a straight-backed woman who looked about as old as Bridget and just as welcoming.
"Here ya go. Gemma couldn't stay, but she sends her greetin's."
"Thank you, Bridget. That will be all." Bridget nodded and turned around, walking swiftly out of the room as if she had things to do.
"I am Mrs. Nightwing, Headmistress of this school."
"Yes mam. Uh… I'm Ina Middleton, mam."
"I know you are." Said Mrs. Nightwing coolly. What did I do to deserve this chilly reception? Or is she like this with everyone? My thoughts were pierced by her sharp voice coming through. The clock ticked slowly, I was sure it was going at this speed just to torture me.
"You will be sharing a room with Pippa Edwards. She is a lovely girl; she has been going here for about four years now. She will show you around, teach you the rules, help you with any lessons you do not already know."
"Yes mam."
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.
"I want you to know that while you are here, you are a part of our family. A family that has rules, rewards and punishments, Miss Middleton."
"Yes mam."
"I also want you to know that we do not tolerate any class division here. Girls of lower classes should not be ridiculed or teased. Is that understood?"
Perfectly, Mrs. Nightwing. Everything is understood now. The meaning behind my cold greeting sunk in, making me feel slightly sick. They think I'm a snob. Well, of course they do. Both my mother and father are very rich.
"Miss Middleton?"
"Oh… Yes mam. Everything is understood."
"Good… You will of course wear the same uniform everyone else does."
"Yes mam."
"And I think that your room will be quite satisfactory."
"Yes mam."
"The view is quite a good one. You can see the entire countryside."
"Yes mam."
"Do you have any questions?"
"Yes mam. I- I mean no mam."
All of a sudden, I heard a sound like a pig that has just been dunked in freezing water. I looked up, alarmed, only to find Mrs. Nightwing clutching her sides laughing.
"M-Mrs. Nightwing?" I said, shocked.
"I'm so sorry, Miss Middleton. You're just so much like your mother."
"Oh…" I said, confused, "Thank you, Mam."
Mrs. Nightwing dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief she pulled from her pocket and then waved at me with a hand, dismissing me.
"You may go now." She said, still laughing hysterically. I jumped up from my chair and walked out of the room without a backward glance although even when I was outside I could hear her laughter through the thick door. Bridget popped out of the darkness, nearly giving me a heart attack, and gestured for me to follow her.
As we walked along the corridors, I noticed a grandfather clock standing tall by the staircase we had come up earlier. I glanced at the time, ten minutes to six, and then rushed after Bridget, not wanting to get left behind. We walked along a hall full of doors and turned right, right, left, and then right again. Finally we stopped outside a plain looking door with a brass handle that Bridget grabbed unceremoniously, and twirled quickly.
The room I entered could not have been lovelier. It had two neat beds, one with just sheet and the other with a down blanket that I wanted to squish very badly. There were two large windows, which I rushed to, wanting to see the view that Mrs. Nightwing had told me about. It was breathtaking. I could see across rolling pools of emerald leaves and swirling branches all the way back to a small chapel, set high on top of a hill out of one. And when I looked out the other one I could see blue and purple mountains striking the deep sky in the distance. Happily, I threw myself onto my bed and looked around myself at the pretty room. There were daffodils in a vase on a neat desk and a lovely dress hanging over the back of the chair at that desk.
"This is wonderful." I said aloud, filled to the brim with dancing happiness. Just then, the door opened and a girl walked through, her skirts swirling about her toes fast as if she had just been running. She stopped when she saw me, her white blond hair tumbling over her shoulders, wild, sleek and shining.
"Hello." She said, looking me over with large, gray eyes. Her skin was so pale it was almost see through, and there was an air of pride in the way she tilted her chin back. Her eyebrows were arched, her mouth dramatic, her figure feminine but powerful, making her look as if she could rip me in two and be given chocolates by an admirer at the same time.
"I'm Pippa Edwards. Who are you?" She spoke swiftly, as if she was in a great hurry, and her smoky voice made her seem authoritative.
"Ina Middleton. I just started here. I guess we're roommate."
"I suppose so." Said Pippa, her white gold head bobbing up and down in agreement. She looked me over, taking in my hair, face, clothes. Then She smiled brightly at me.
"So you're the new girl." It wasn't a question. "Interesting. How old are you?"
"Sixteen." I said, feeling incredibly stupid.
"Sixteen…" She repeated as though it were a fascinating word. Then she clapped her hands and said briskly, "It's chapel time. Change into the uniform quick and then get down there as fast as your legs can carry you. I don't want my charge getting in trouble on her first day here."
"That's okay," I said, my temper flared, "You don't have to baby-sit me."
"My, my. Don't get mad, Ina." She said and I could tell that she was trying to get a rise out of me. Well good luck with that, sweetheart. I thought cruelly.
"I know where the dining room is, I can get there by myself. You don't need to wait for me."
Pippa nodded, her hair flying with the movement of her head, and then walked to the door and nearly bolted through it.
"Thanks for the welcome." I said, and went to my closet to find the uniform, wishing I wasn't so ignorant and my mother wasn't so secretive.