Hope you enjoy.
Professor Barnes took off his glasses. "She shows excellent promise."
"You think so?" Mrs. Kirke asked in delight. She felt her heartbeat quicken. Polly had left five days ago to go back to her family and home, and Digory and Mr. Kirke had departed two days ago to check out the colleges Digory was interested in. It was only now that Mrs. Kirke had found time to take a breather and visit her friend, Professor Barnes, with a sample of Polly's work.
"Most definitely." Professor Barnes leaned back in his chair. "Did you notice how Miss Plummer writes with a certain type of energy? For example, the characters in this passage of writing were very outspoken, and yet painted in a realistic manner. And her descriptions are perfect: not too much flowery prose, but enough to let you imagine the setting."
Mrs. Kirke couldn't stop the grin on her face. "I did notice. I think she's very talented at making words leap off the page. The story just seems so––so real."
The professor pointed a finger. "Exactly! And that's what we're looking for at this college. Not writers who write just to please their teachers or earn money, but writers who write from the heart."
"Oh, that's right. I almost forgot, you teach at one of the colleges in the city, don't you?" Mrs. Kirke sat up straighter, taking a quick glance about the room. She had gone straight to Professor Barnes's house, since she was good friends with Mrs. Barnes and knew the family quite well. She'd then been escorted to the professor's study so he could thoroughly inspect Polly's piece of work.
"Yes ma'am. I––"
He was interrupted by the study door opening. "Honey, you have a meeting at Mr. Tyler's in half an hour. What time do you need to leave?"
Professor Barnes shot to his feet. "Good grief! I hadn't realized the time. I need to get going. Thank you, Lissa, for reminding me." He began sorting papers from his desk and stuffing them into a briefcase.
Mrs. Kirke smiled at Melissa Barnes, the professor's wife, who had interrupted. "How are you doing, Melissa? I've missed talking to you."
Melissa's face lit up. "As have I. I'm sorry my husband has to leave right away, but why don't you stay and visit for a bit? I'll have Eliza bring up some tea, and we can sit and talk in the parlor like old times."
Professor Barnes silenced them with a lifted hand. "You ladies go right ahead and do that, but first, Mrs. Kirke" he paused from packing his briefcase and instead fiddled with some papers on his desk "I'll jot down Miss Plummer's address. Once I get home I will send her a letter asking if she would be interested in applying to one of our colleges up here. Many women are accepted into classes involving writing there, and I believe she has a chance to make herself a career."
Mrs. Kirke's eyes shone. "I can't thank you enough. That's just what Polly needs. There are no colleges near her home that she's interested in, and she really needs a goal that she can reach for."
With her heart happy, Mrs. Kirke headed off with Mrs. Barnes for a pleasant afternoon of tea and chatting.
Meanwhile, Polly was not having the greatest of times. She was in her room, completely bored with her life. "I thought that coming back home would make me feel better," she told herself with a sigh. "I thought if I could just be in my good old familiar room, I'd forget all the memories of Digory and be able to move on with life."
Restlessly she strode towards the window. She'd awoken a few hours ago this morning to the sound of pouring rain. Now, as the clock chimed ten o' clock, the sky was still an overcast gray, even though the rain had stopped a while ago. Polly slid the latch on her window and pushed it open, leaning outside. She could still smell the scent of rain in the air. She stuck her hand out. It was humid. Thunder rumbled, and she jerked her hand back inside, closing the window just in time as an onslaught of rain tumbled down.
"I guess things will never be the way they were." She rubbed her hands together and pounced onto her bed. It had been over a week now that she'd been home, but she didn't seem to enjoy hanging out with the few friends that she had, and nothing at home interested her.
"All part of growing up, dear."
Polly jumped, her canopy of hair draped across her face. She pushed it out of the way with the back of her hand to stare at her mother. "I didn't hear you come in."
"A letter came in the mail for you. Here it is. I don't recognize the address." Her mother tossed it onto her bedspread.
Polly couldn't suppress the curiosity flickering across her face. Her mum would have recognized if it had been from Mrs. Kirke or, heaven forbid, Digory. So who was it? There wasn't anyone else she knew. She slit the seal open and unfolded the letter.
"What is it?" her mother demanded, watching the various expressions flash across her daughter's face.
Polly looked up, torn between looking troubled and joyous. "You remember that short story I told you about? That I gave to Mrs. Kirke, so she could show it to her professor friend?"
"Yes…"
The teenage girl held up the letter and waved it. "Well, it looks like he read it and liked it pretty well, because he's sent me a personal letter and asked me to apply to the college he teaches at––a good college with many famous professors––and he thinks I won't have any problem being admitted."
There was a long minute while Mrs. Plummer processed all of this, her eyes slowly lighting up. After another shocked pause, she squealed and threw her arms around her daughter. "Oh, honey! You'll go, won't you? Of course you will! Sweetie, look at this! How lucky you are! This is your best chance at becoming a writer! Ooh, I always knew you would be famous!"
When Polly could speak again after being smothered by hugs and kisses, she said, "Mum, I'm not even sure that I'll go there. I need time to think about this. And what do you mean, this is my best chance of becoming a writer? I am a writer. I'm just not published yet." These last few sentences were spouted rather tenaciously.
Mrs. Plummer cringed. Polly had always been touchy whenever someone referred to her becoming a writer. "Do remember, I'm not trying to upset you. I can't help it if I strike a nerve."
"Mu-um! I'm not being particularly stubborn. All writers have a sore point there. Anyone who's written a book is a writer––no question. We are writers, even if we remain unpublished all our lives and our names are never echoed reverently through the halls of bookstores. The world just doesn't understand us." Polly tossed her mane of wild curls.
"Ahh, I see." Mrs. Plummer nodded as sagaciously as possible. Best not to press any points with Polly when she was in one of her high-and-mighty moods. The girl had been dealing with some issues lately, she'd give her that. She just needed to learn to face what was going on and start acting more mature.
Hopefully she'd brighten up soon. Something must have happened to disturb her when she was at the Kirkes. Could it have been the long amount of time she was incapacitated during her illness?
Well, now wasn't the time to ask. Mrs. Plummer hugged her daughter, told her to seriously consider the amazing offer she'd just been made, and left.
Polly spent the rest of the evening staring at the letter and doing some deep thinking.
"I can't believe this! We've been to five of the most famous and well-known colleges in London, and none of them 'really suited your taste'?"
"Father," Digory said helplessly, tightening his lips. "I'm sorry. None of them seem right for me."
Mr. Kirke sighed and put his head back against the bench. "Fine. The train to Birmingham should be here in a few minutes. I hope you're able to find an acceptable college soon. We've been on the road for a week and a half now, and this weather is madness."
Digory held out his hands, feeling a few moist drops collect in his palm. "You're right. Summer isn't the time for so much rain."
Mr. Kirke sighed again and fanned his face as the distant chug of the train sounded in the air. "Rain coming down one moment and gone the next. You never know what to expect."
"Yeah." But Digory's mind was on other things. His father was right. He hadn't liked any of the colleges they'd taken tours of. It was odd. They were some of the finest colleges in England, and he should have been thrilled to have the chance to learn at one of them. So what exactly was it that he wanted?
Well, he had better find something soon. As he stood and lifted his suitcase, ready to board the approaching train, the rain started coming down harder. By the time he and his father boarded the train they were soaked to the skin. Digory took a seat and pulled out his list of colleges that he wanted to check out, his father grumbling the whole time.
He crossed off the five that they'd seen this week. Eight more to go.
Surely he'd find whatever it was he was searching for at one of these colleges. One could only hope.
Not really sure if I like the ending to this chapter, but it's the best I could come up with. :) I'm guessing there'll be about two more chapters before it's complete. Leave a review!