Eva's Journey Read online

  Mr Gowing was explaining a maths problem, and telling us about some boring old Ancient Greek maths guy. I’d already done the same problem in my old school. I hadn’t found it fun first time round, so how exactly was it supposed to have improved in the months since then?

  Half way through the maths class, I found someone who definitely needed some help.

  ‘Yesss,’ I whispered to myself.

  The boy beside me woke up and stared at me like I was an idiot.

  ‘Yesss, I really love maths,’ I whispered, and he looked at me like I was an even bigger idiot.

  As soon as the boy was busy gouging another hole in the desk with his compass, I took a closer look at the lucky girl – the first person in my ‘help people and get out of here’ project.

  She was small and pretty, and she was sitting right at the front of the class. Her name was Petronella (which, on its own, was a good enough reason to be unhappy, I thought).

  The other reason was that the teacher kept picking on her. Whenever she even whispered to the girl next to her, Mr Gowing shouted at her to be quiet – like whispering was this huge crime – and like the rest of the class wasn’t whispering madly whenever he turned to face the blackboard.

  And the worst thing was, no matter what Mr Gowing said, Petronella never even blinked. It was almost like she was so used to being picked on, that she didn’t care any more.

  The lesson dragged on and on and on. Soon I knew far more than I ever wanted to know about geometry.

  I looked around and all I could see were glazed eyes and bored faces – it was like I’d dropped into the set of a very bad zombie movie.

  Suddenly Petronella dropped her book to the ground with a clatter. I jumped and a few of the boys laughed.

  Mr Gowing spun on his heel.

  ‘Petronella,’ he said crossly. ‘I think you did that deliberately, just to annoy me.’

  For once, Petronella reacted.

  ‘That’s not fair,’ she said. ‘It was an accident.’

  Mr Gowing walked to her desk and leaned down towards her with a mean look on his face.

  ‘So, Petronella,’ he hissed. ‘So I’m not being fair. And what are you going to do about it – run home and tell your mama?’

  There were a few sniggers from the back of the class.

  How could anyone find this funny?

  What kind of a sick school had I ended up in?

  Petronella took a deep breath.

  ‘Actually, I think I will tell my mother,’ she said.

  Now Mr Gowing gave a laugh.

  ‘Ha,’ he said. ‘Promises, promises. I know you’ll never tell on me. You’re just too chicken.’

  Petronella didn’t reply. I looked around in horror. Some of the kids were giggling. Even worse, some looked totally bored, like this kind of thing happened every day.

  I made up my mind.

  Mr Gowing mustn’t be allowed to treat the poor girl like that.

  It just wasn’t right.

  All I had to do was figure out a way to help her.

  There’s an ad on TV that says if you see someone being bullied at school, then you should talk to your teacher.

  But what were you supposed to do if the bully was your teacher?

  I had to talk to Petronella.

  I had to help her to be strong.

  I had to persuade her to talk to her mother about the way Mr Gowing was bullying her.

  Or maybe she should go to the principal?

  Perhaps there was a board of governers that should know?

  I turned to the back page of my maths book and started to make notes.

  Chapter Ten

  After what felt like a hundred years, maths class was over.

  After what felt like a thousand years, the school day was over too.

  A bell rang, and everyone jumped up and started to shove their books into their bags.

  A couple of girls came over to chat to me. It was nice of them, but I didn’t really want to get involved.

  What was the point of making friends here if I was going back to my old school before long?

  So I smiled at them and said I had to rush, and they smiled back and said, ‘See you tomorrow.’

  I hoped I wouldn’t be spending too many tomorrows in this dump.

  And then I raced off after Petronella.

  It took me ages to catch her. She was walking along the road with two other girls. I was glad she had friends. But then, what kind of friends just stand by and watch their friend being bullied?

  I walked up to the three girls, trying to look all relaxed and casual, and not like I could barely breathe from running so fast.

  ‘Hi,’ I said.

  ‘Hi,’ they said back.

  Then they kept walking.

  I realised that maybe I should have planned my attack a bit better. Too late now though.

  ‘Er, Petronella, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about,’ I said.

  ‘So talk,’ she said.

  This was totally embarrassing. I hopped from one foot to another. The clump-clump of my heavy shoes on the footpath made me sound like an elephant tap-dancing.

  ‘It’s …… it’s kind of private.’

  Now Petronella looked at me like I was crazy. I couldn’t really blame her. I’d never in my life spoken to this girl, and all of a sudden I wanted to have a private conversation with her. She probably thought I was some weird kind of stalker.

  Her friends giggled.

  ‘Do you want some quiet time with your new friend?’ asked one.

  She shrugged.

  ‘Whatever. I’ll catch up with you as soon as …’

  I could have finished her sentence for her – I’ll catch up with you as soon as I manage to shake off this loser.

  But luckily she was too kind to say this.

  ‘I’ll catch up with you in a minute,’ she said.

  The two girls waved goodbye, and walked a small bit ahead, staying close enough to rescue Petronella if things started to turn nasty.

  Petronella turned to me.

  ‘So, Eva, what’s so urgent and so private?’ she asked, but not in a mean way. She even gave me an encouraging smile, like she thought there was an outside chance that she might actually be interested in what I had to say.

  Suddenly I realised that she really was a nice girl, and that made me even more determined to help her.

  ‘It’s about the teacher – Mr Gowing,’ I said.

  A small smile came over Petronella’s face.

  I wondered why she was smiling.

  Maybe because she wouldn’t have to see Mr Gowing for another twenty hours or so?

  ‘What about Mr Gowing?’ she asked.

  I was starting to feel a bit stupid, so I spoke in a rush. ‘He treats you differently to everyone else,’ I said. ‘He gives you a hard time over stuff he lets the other kids away with. It’s so not fair. That man shouldn’t be allowed to behave like that. You should go ahead and do what you threatened. You should tell your mother.’

  She shrugged, still with that funny half-smile on her face.

  ‘I did tell my mum once. But she only laughed. She says it’s exactly what I deserve.’

  I was so surprised that at first I couldn’t speak.

  Clearly things were worse than I had feared.

  What kind of mother would laugh when she hears that her daughter is being bullied by a teacher?

  I stopped walking and tried to gather my thoughts.

  Petronella stopped too, and we looked at each other.

  ‘Petronella, this is very serious,’ I said. ‘Something will have to be done.’

  Petronella still had that strange smile on her face and it was starting to make me a bit nervous. Maybe all this bullying had made her go slightly crazy.

  She looked at her watch.

  ‘Thanks for your concern, Eva,’ she said. ‘But if I don’t go now, I’m going to be late for hockey practice. I’ll arrange a meeting between my mum and … Mr Gowi
ng, OK?’

  I nodded happily.

  ‘OK. I suppose that’s a start. But you need a definite plan. Where and when do you think the meeting can happen?’

  She grinned.

  ‘Oh, I suppose they could meet around the kitchen table at my place – probably at about six o’clock this evening.’

  What was she on about?

  Maybe this girl truly was crazy, and I shouldn’t have got involved. Maybe her problems were the kind that I couldn’t possibly help her with.

  Suddenly Petronella gave me a big hug.

  I backed away as soon as I could.

  If this girl was crazy, I totally didn’t like being hugged by her.

  I totally, totally didn’t like being hugged by her in a public place.

  ‘Thanks, Eva,’ she said. ‘Thanks for being worried about me. It’s really nice of you to try to help me. But, you see, Mr Gowing is ………. my dad!’

  ‘Mr Gowing is your dad?’ I repeated stupidly.

  She nodded.

  ‘I’m afraid so. He’s not bullying me when he says that stuff in class. He’s just having a laugh. It’s stupid I know, but it’s kind of like a joke between us. It’s not a big deal.’

  ‘So all the other kids were laughing because they were in on the joke?’

  She nodded.

  ‘And Mr Gowing wasn’t being a bully, he was just being a normal dad – totally embarrassing?’

  She nodded again.

  I slapped my forehead.

  ‘You must think I’m an idiot.’

  She smiled.

  ‘No, you’re not. It was very nice of you to try and help me. So thank you. And now I’ve really got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, and maybe you can come and sit next to me and my friends.’

  ‘Do you think Mr Gowing would let me change places?’

  She laughed.

  ‘I think I might be able to sort that one out.’

  I laughed too.

  ‘Oh, and one more thing,’ she said. ‘Call me Ella. Everyone does – except for my dad – and he only uses my full name because he knows it annoys me.’

  She gave me another hug, and then she ran on to catch up with her friends.

  And I walked slowly home.

  Victoria phoned that night, and I told her all about my new school.

  ‘So no knives and no guns and no cat-fights?’ she said. ‘Sounds totally boring to me.’

  Then I told her about Ella, and how I had tried to help her.

  ‘That was so nice of you,’ she said – when she’d finally stopped laughing. ‘Imagine trying so hard to help someone on your very first day.’

  I didn’t answer. I felt bad that Victoria thought I was being nice for the sake of being nice. I’d sort of neglected to mention Madam Margarita’s part in the whole story.

  ‘Do you think you and Ella might become friends?’ asked Victoria then.

  ‘Are you getting jealous,’ I shot back, before remembering that Victoria is far too generous to ever feel jealous of anyone.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’d just like you to have a friend in your new school, that’s all. And Ella sounds nice.’

  ‘You mean nicer than my friends from The Abbey?’

  Now it was Victoria’s turn to hesitate. She had never much liked my friends from my old school. She said they weren’t interested in people, that they were only interested in fancy cars and exotic holidays. (Although, when she turned out to be right, and they all managed to forget me overnight, she was kind enough not to mention it.)

  Even though Victoria wasn’t giving me a hard time, I felt a sudden need to defend my old school.

  ‘You know, there were nearly two hundred girls in The Abbey,’ I said. ‘And they weren’t all mean.’

  ‘Just the ones you chose for your friends?’

  I thought about arguing but then didn’t bother. I knew Victoria was right. I had chosen my friends badly. When the going got tough, they got going – right out of my life.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Victoria. ‘I shouldn’t have put it like that. Forget them, Eva. You’re better than the whole lot of them put together.’

  ‘Anyway,’ I said, changing the subject quickly. ‘I have heaps of history homework.’

  And we talked about totally boring schoolwork until Mum called me for my tea.

  Chapter Eleven

  As I walked to school the next day, stomping along in my heavy brown shoes, I made up my mind that I’d just have to try harder. I had let a whole day go by without actually managing to help anyone. If I continued like that I’d never get my old life back.

  I hadn’t really believed Madam Margarita when she said it wasn’t going to be easy – and that was sure turning out to be a mistake.

  When I got to my classroom, Ella called me over. ‘You can sit here, Eva,’ she said. ‘With Chloe and Amy and me. It’s all sorted with Da— I mean Mr Gowing.’

  I smiled.

  ‘Thanks.’

  I still didn’t plan on staying in that dump of a school for long, but while I was there. I figured I might as well make the most of it.

  I’d decided to spend the day watching the other kids in the class. There were thirty of them – surely one of them would need some help.

  Surely one of them would be my passport out of there.

  Soon though, I discovered that lots of the kids needed help – but none of them needed help in a way that I could do anything about.

  How could I help the boy called Joshua who kept tearing pieces of paper from his schoolbooks and flicking them around the room?

  How could I help Shannon, the girl who sat in the middle of the room with a huge smile on her face, even though she didn’t seem to understand a single word that any of the teachers said?

  Then I started to pay more attention to the classroom assistant.

  Her name was Dawn, and she walked around the classroom like there was a huge, heavy rock on her shoulders. She looked like the tiniest thing would prompt her to lie down in a corner crying buckets of tears.

  But the more I watched this sad woman, the happier I felt.

  Dawn was perfect.

  All I had to do was find out why she was so sad, and then I could go ahead and fix it.

  Dawn left the building as soon as school was over, and I watched as she took the road towards town. I said hurried good-byes to my new friends, and raced after Dawn.

  I ran down the street and quickly spotted her. It wasn’t difficult. She was marching along so fiercely that the crowds were parting to let her through. I raced into the space behind her, and followed.

  Soon we came to a coffee shop. Dawn went inside, and joined another woman at a table. She waved at a waitress and ordered a coffee. I sat at a table nearby. I hoped no one was going to ask me to buy something as I had the big total of five cents in my pocket. I pulled out a geography book, and pretended to be totally interested in a map of France.

  Dawn was stirring her coffee like she wanted to make a hole in the bottom of the cup.

  ‘Did you tell her?’ asked her friend.

  Dawn shook her head.

  ‘I can’t do it. I can’t go.’

  The friend gave a big long sigh.

  ‘Just make your mind up. Tell her. Tell her you’re going on a holiday with Julie and me.’

  Dawn interrupted her, ‘But it’s not just a holiday. It’s not a week at the beach or a few days up a mountain. It’s two whole months. In South America.’

  The friend smiled and rubbed her hands together.

  ‘I know. I can still hardly believe it’s going to happen. Now you just need to tell your mother and then we can get on with it. And then, after the trip, your mother will be used to you being away,

  and you’ll be able to live with Julie and me. We’ll find a place big enough for the three of us, and it’ll be the beginning of the rest of our lives.’

  For one second Dawn’s eyes lit up, and then the light faded like a match-flame in the wind.

  ‘I would love tha
t so much,’ she said, ‘but I can’t do it,’ she said. ‘Since Dad died, Mum has no one else. I want to do all this stuff with you and Julie, but I can’t. Mum needs me.’

  The friend was cross. She stood up.

  ‘You’re sad all the time, Dawn. It’s not right. It’s time you started to live your own life,’ she said. ‘Anyway, Julie and I are going to the travel agents to book our flights tomorrow afternoon. Call one of us before then if you change your mind.’

  Then without another word, she left the coffee shop.

  Dawn sat there, stirring her coffee even more furiously than before.

  I sighed.

  Poor Dawn. No wonder she was such a misery. She deserved to have a life away from her mother.

  Maybe I could help her?

  Was there a way I could persuade her to go away with her friends?

  But what about her poor, lonely mother?

  What good would it be if I made Dawn happy, but at the same time, ruined her mother’s life?

  This helping stuff was turning out to be very complicated.

  Soon afterwards, Dawn stood up and walked out, trailing her sadness behind her like a dark cloud. I followed her, because I couldn’t think of anything else to do.

  Luckily Dawn was too caught up in her own thoughts to notice that she had just acquired a new shadow.

  Soon Dawn stopped at a house. She unlocked the door and let herself in.

  ‘I’m home, Mum,’ I heard her say.

  ‘I’m on the phone to your Aunt Hannah,’ came a voice from an open window at the side of the house. ‘Make yourself a cup of tea and I’ll be there in a minute.’

  I walked around to the side of the house and sat on the grass under the open window. I know that eavesdropping isn’t a very nice habit, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had to learn more about Dawn and her mother.

  Was there a way that I could help the two of them?

  Was there a way that they could both be happy?

  ‘Dawn’s home,’ came her mother’s voice through the open window. Then there was a long sigh. ‘I’m sorry, Hannah,’ she said. ‘I know your plan makes perfect sense. I know that you and Mary need to buy a new apartment. I know that we could buy a three-bedroomed place between us. I know we could have a wonderful life together – the three Brady sisters back together at last. But who would take care of Dawn? She needs me. I’m all she has. Since her dad died, she’s been very down in the dumps. She never even goes out with her friends any more … Now I have to go and make her something to eat. The poor child must be starving.’