Sara's Mother
CHAPTER ONE:
The wind howled and the day was blown away by the night. The blissful summer had diminished, and, alas, it was time for school again. But Isabel felt over powered by her Aunt's presence, and knew soon enough the year would fly by and there would be another time when the blossoms would bloom, and everything would be bright again.
Isabel and her aunt were staying in a Suite in a Hotel in New York City. It was cold, and Isabel shivered all through the long night. "Tante, I can't sleep." She told her. Her Aunt rolled over and Isabel could just see her face, like a shadow; dark and unrecognisable. "Just listen to the fall of the rain." Isabel remembered her father always telling her that. She felt better somehow.
It was a busy and noisy morning. Big carts of fruit, vegetables, flowers came past as they dashed for the other side. "Tante, why do I have to go to this school, why can't I stay at the one in Paris?" "Because it's closed. Besides, remember your Mother, Monique?" "Yes. She died of cholera, in India. didn't she?" "Mm." Tante looked to the ground, she had deep respect for her sister. "She was a teacher here before she went to India. She taught French." "Oh." That didn't convince little Isabel that this was going to be a good place to go. They stood at the entrance. Little girls ran in, laughing, giggling, being silly. This is okay, thought Isabel smiling thoughtfully to herself. She was sure soon she'd have many friends. But then a dark figure stepped out. He was holding a stick, he looked quite old and cruel. Like out of a depressing grey-wash painting of sorrowful people that make you shudder as you study the art. Isabel was in a purple dress, her hair was long and blonde. It flowed down her back. She felt protected next to her Aunt. The sly man came up to them and Isabel dug into her Aunt's dress. "Ah, Madame Potre. How are you?" "I am well, thank you Mr. Minchin." "This is your daughter, yes?" "No, sir she's my Niece." Isabel wasn't concentrating on them, she was busy looking at all the other girls, assembled, whispering to each other. "Yes, her parents passed away a long time ago." They were standing in rows of year groups. The first row of students looked young and cheeky-faced. They had cherry cheeks and smiles across their faces. Isabel glanced across to the oldest year. They looked closest to her age, but in saying that not a bit the way they should look. Their faces were solemn and eyes empty. They showed no expression, they just stood not paying any attention to anything. "Girls, go inside. I want you to all be standing in the breakfast hall when I'm done here." They all hurried, scampering up to the doors. But Monsieur's voice didn't sound harsh or threatening. Perhaps she'd had wrong judgements about him. "Isabel is accustomed to being the centre of attention. Her sisters and brothers are all grown up now," chuckled Tante. "Oh." The headmaster replied, though he didn't seem the least bit interested. "I will try to do my best." Isabel piped up. "All expenses are spent on the girls at Minchin's Seminary, I assure you of that." He added, in a boastful way. A young woman, maybe nineteen or twenty years old walked up. "Father," Her eyes were dark and hollow. "What is it child? Can't you see I'm busy?" Her expression was so sour that Isabel felt sorry for her. "Sorry papa." She apologised, and walked away, her head down. Isabel immediately felt bad, suppose she was ill, her father probably wouldn't even notice.
She was to share a room with Hatty, a small girl with green eyes and a pointy nose. She didn't seem affected by Isabel's moving in and when the French mademoiselle came hauling in big bags of clothes and toys she just sat there on her bed reading to herself. Page after page was turned, and not a word out of her. Even when the bell rang she didn't speak, she just left the room as if she was the only one there.
"You look lovely!" exclaimed Tante at Isabel's school dress. It was a green frock and a coat that went over it. Isabel stared at the mirror, made a face and turned around again. "I look awful." "No! It suits you." But Isabel was not convinced. She pick up another school item. It was a light green cloak with the school symbol on it. "That's for church I think." "Mm." Isabel looked at the ground, sombre with fixed eyes. "Well, you better go to class!" Piped up Tante. "Oui, I should." "Oh, chere!" Tante came up and put her hand on Isabel's shoulder. "Do not cry. I will be staying in Boston while you are here." "Really?" Isabel began to smile. "Whenever you need me, I don't care when, catch a train to Boston and visit me."
"Alright, Tante, I will." She hugged her tight. Tante said her good bye and was out the door. Isabel waved at the window. Always believe, always believe had been Tante's words and Isabel whispered them as she felt her emotions seizing up inside her.
Hatty was sitting, again, reading a book. "That book?" Hatty looked up at Isabel for the first time as if to say 'What do you want?' "Is it good?" "Yes." She replied, sliding her head back down. "Do you ever stop reading?" No answer. "Are you tired? Do you like school? Who are your friends? Are they nice?" were just a few questions coming out of Isabel's mouth. "Do you ever talk?" "Do you ever stop talking?" Isabel shut her mouth. She took a box of peppermints that Tante had left for her and offered one to Hatty. To her surprise, she took several and chewed them down as fast as she could. "Are you hungry?" asked Isabel. "Have you tasted the food here?" "Ah, no." Isabel hadn't wanted any dinner. "I wasn't feeling very well." "Never mind then." Hatty pulled a face. Isabel laughed, Hatty looked at her as if she was disturbed then funnily enough laughed as well.
Isabel woke to a crispy, bright morning. She really believed for a moment she was back in Toulouse. But when she found herself on a bed with just white sheets and a plain, dull room she knew she was not. She crept down the stairs because everyone else was asleep. Each morning she was used to waking with the sun and liked to go and sit outside, enjoying the early breeze and the humming of the birds. But she was forbidden to, so she snuggled back into her bed and pretended to be asleep, even though her heart was yearning inside of her, wishing that Tante would come back.
CHAPTER ONE:
The wind howled and the day was blown away by the night. The blissful summer had diminished, and, alas, it was time for school again. But Isabel felt over powered by her Aunt's presence, and knew soon enough the year would fly by and there would be another time when the blossoms would bloom, and everything would be bright again.
Isabel and her aunt were staying in a Suite in a Hotel in New York City. It was cold, and Isabel shivered all through the long night. "Tante, I can't sleep." She told her. Her Aunt rolled over and Isabel could just see her face, like a shadow; dark and unrecognisable. "Just listen to the fall of the rain." Isabel remembered her father always telling her that. She felt better somehow.
It was a busy and noisy morning. Big carts of fruit, vegetables, flowers came past as they dashed for the other side. "Tante, why do I have to go to this school, why can't I stay at the one in Paris?" "Because it's closed. Besides, remember your Mother, Monique?" "Yes. She died of cholera, in India. didn't she?" "Mm." Tante looked to the ground, she had deep respect for her sister. "She was a teacher here before she went to India. She taught French." "Oh." That didn't convince little Isabel that this was going to be a good place to go. They stood at the entrance. Little girls ran in, laughing, giggling, being silly. This is okay, thought Isabel smiling thoughtfully to herself. She was sure soon she'd have many friends. But then a dark figure stepped out. He was holding a stick, he looked quite old and cruel. Like out of a depressing grey-wash painting of sorrowful people that make you shudder as you study the art. Isabel was in a purple dress, her hair was long and blonde. It flowed down her back. She felt protected next to her Aunt. The sly man came up to them and Isabel dug into her Aunt's dress. "Ah, Madame Potre. How are you?" "I am well, thank you Mr. Minchin." "This is your daughter, yes?" "No, sir she's my Niece." Isabel wasn't concentrating on them, she was busy looking at all the other girls, assembled, whispering to each other. "Yes, her parents passed away a long time ago." They were standing in rows of year groups. The first row of students looked young and cheeky-faced. They had cherry cheeks and smiles across their faces. Isabel glanced across to the oldest year. They looked closest to her age, but in saying that not a bit the way they should look. Their faces were solemn and eyes empty. They showed no expression, they just stood not paying any attention to anything. "Girls, go inside. I want you to all be standing in the breakfast hall when I'm done here." They all hurried, scampering up to the doors. But Monsieur's voice didn't sound harsh or threatening. Perhaps she'd had wrong judgements about him. "Isabel is accustomed to being the centre of attention. Her sisters and brothers are all grown up now," chuckled Tante. "Oh." The headmaster replied, though he didn't seem the least bit interested. "I will try to do my best." Isabel piped up. "All expenses are spent on the girls at Minchin's Seminary, I assure you of that." He added, in a boastful way. A young woman, maybe nineteen or twenty years old walked up. "Father," Her eyes were dark and hollow. "What is it child? Can't you see I'm busy?" Her expression was so sour that Isabel felt sorry for her. "Sorry papa." She apologised, and walked away, her head down. Isabel immediately felt bad, suppose she was ill, her father probably wouldn't even notice.
She was to share a room with Hatty, a small girl with green eyes and a pointy nose. She didn't seem affected by Isabel's moving in and when the French mademoiselle came hauling in big bags of clothes and toys she just sat there on her bed reading to herself. Page after page was turned, and not a word out of her. Even when the bell rang she didn't speak, she just left the room as if she was the only one there.
"You look lovely!" exclaimed Tante at Isabel's school dress. It was a green frock and a coat that went over it. Isabel stared at the mirror, made a face and turned around again. "I look awful." "No! It suits you." But Isabel was not convinced. She pick up another school item. It was a light green cloak with the school symbol on it. "That's for church I think." "Mm." Isabel looked at the ground, sombre with fixed eyes. "Well, you better go to class!" Piped up Tante. "Oui, I should." "Oh, chere!" Tante came up and put her hand on Isabel's shoulder. "Do not cry. I will be staying in Boston while you are here." "Really?" Isabel began to smile. "Whenever you need me, I don't care when, catch a train to Boston and visit me."
"Alright, Tante, I will." She hugged her tight. Tante said her good bye and was out the door. Isabel waved at the window. Always believe, always believe had been Tante's words and Isabel whispered them as she felt her emotions seizing up inside her.
Hatty was sitting, again, reading a book. "That book?" Hatty looked up at Isabel for the first time as if to say 'What do you want?' "Is it good?" "Yes." She replied, sliding her head back down. "Do you ever stop reading?" No answer. "Are you tired? Do you like school? Who are your friends? Are they nice?" were just a few questions coming out of Isabel's mouth. "Do you ever talk?" "Do you ever stop talking?" Isabel shut her mouth. She took a box of peppermints that Tante had left for her and offered one to Hatty. To her surprise, she took several and chewed them down as fast as she could. "Are you hungry?" asked Isabel. "Have you tasted the food here?" "Ah, no." Isabel hadn't wanted any dinner. "I wasn't feeling very well." "Never mind then." Hatty pulled a face. Isabel laughed, Hatty looked at her as if she was disturbed then funnily enough laughed as well.
Isabel woke to a crispy, bright morning. She really believed for a moment she was back in Toulouse. But when she found herself on a bed with just white sheets and a plain, dull room she knew she was not. She crept down the stairs because everyone else was asleep. Each morning she was used to waking with the sun and liked to go and sit outside, enjoying the early breeze and the humming of the birds. But she was forbidden to, so she snuggled back into her bed and pretended to be asleep, even though her heart was yearning inside of her, wishing that Tante would come back.