CHAPTER 12

PATCHES

Excepts from Rose's letter to Ted and Eleanor

"…I hope you weren't too worried about the letter I sent you two days ago, I was in furnace of fury over that article, you know, that hideous one I sent you. Please, burn it right away, and the letter too. I want to put it completely behind me you see, Anne's helping me, anyone who gave me a hint of a snigger today had to face up to her wrath, and her temper is as bad as mine, so you see, no one is game enough to mention it any more. And people, amazingly, have forgotten about it… mostly. Except Ruby, she's still a bit sore about it, and doesn't wont to be associated with us for a while until it dies down completely, but don't worry, she'll come around, she always does. Meanwhile the boys give her enough attention that will balm her wound of shame.

What's my balm from this shame? Our girl's softball competition! The article only stirred us up more, we're practising like mad grasshoppers, for it shall be our vengeance to the boys, it will be our proving worth that a girl can play alongside the boys. What especially fires me is imagining Mr. Craig's face when we give the boys a throttling! And seeing the face of T-, I mean some of those smug boys. Me and Anne hardly talk about anything else. I tried to sketch Mr. Craig's face in anticipation, but decided to wait until I see it in action so I can capture the full shock of it.

Actually the article has been the best thing that's happened to the team, for other girls in disgust at the article joined us, we have a thriving team now. Me and Anne were a bit worried about scarce women players, but we're overflowing with enthusiastic girls who are fired up to beat the boys! Most of my 'groupe' are the key players, Anne is an all-rounder, she dominates anywhere she plays, Stella has a dynamite pitch and Priscilla is like a lightning strike. Jane is our sturdy backstop and hardly lets a ball get past her.

I can just imagine your eyes Ted, gleaming over all this, you were the one who taught me how to master those curve balls! I can see you too Eleanor, nodding at it, though it's probably more like Sanskrit to you.

No needs to worry about our schoolwork suffering, for we not only dominate on the softball field, but in class as well. But you can be sure that the boys are a fierce opposition there too. In English, Math, History, Latin, Literature – 99 of the subjects I have to struggle to keep my head above the water, that if strive and work heartily to show up decently against Anne, Gil, Pris, Stella, Emily Clay and some of the other boys.

I haven't met any rivals in Art though. Our teacher there, Mrs. Kith is nice. Too nice, I can't get any decent criticism out her, she nods and smiles over anything, anyone draws. Of course it is nice for a bit, like Grandmothers, no matter what you do they will smile and love you to the bursting point. But too much of that isn't good for you. So when ether I crave feedback, I either send a sketch to Mr. Lahar (and he'll punch a blow to me) or pull out that book – 'Great Artists and their Works' that you gave me. I don't know where I would be without that book! It's my ideals, my despair, and my aim; what I'm constantly striving for. And takes all the vanity out of me, if I was beginning to sound too cocky.

Don't worry; I have plenty of 'humblers' – my red hair (ah! If only I could cut all off and grow it back blonde, glowing golden blonde! Like an angel's hair), freckles (though Stella has written a soothing poem about them being like 'the glittering stars in the sky' I'll send you a copy!), and wretched Latin. Anne swims happily in all the 'venti's' and 'domigo's' while I start to drown in it.

So life it pretty much 'patches' here. For one thing, patching over that article incident (and this shall be the last time I mention it!), but also patches of smiles and laughter, ruthless competition, victories, that 'd' word (defeats), imaginings and, well, whatever Queen's throws at us.

Sealed with so much love it hurts,

Your loving daughter

Rose Shirly

By the way, you know the assignment that me and Anne have to do for English, we've finished the two other sections, 'A glimpse inside' and 'The Future' (boy, that was fun, me and Anne simply revelled in imaginings the whole afternoon. If you're wondering about mine, I'm going to travel Europe, being a distinguished artist that will simply rattle the world, marry a French Marquis and live side by side next to Anne in a mansion full of studios, paints, a conservatory, my own private gallery and a library. We're going to start up in institution to be named after us, but we haven't quite figured out what it will be for) and have left the hardest bit, our family history to last. For, it's kind of strange, but Anne and I both don't have a clue, both deprived of real relations that we know about! It would be so much easier if we could just imagine it, like Anne tried to suggest to Mr. Matchet, who was firm in his 'no'. But we're up to the challenge. This is going to be absolutely painful, I dread even imagining it, let alone doing it, but, I must get in touch with Jack and Frieda, they might no something from which I came from, and any hint would be more than I have now.

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Yea! Another chapter COMPLTETE! It might seem a bit confusing, believe it is even for me, but rest assured that if will all come together in the end.

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