Unspoken - Kiss of the Wolf Spider, Part I (4 page)

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick,

but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”

Proverbs 13:12

The hostel bell buzzed out rude and loud. Prefects’ shrill voices were
yelling from the corridors. I opened my eyes and looked around. Oh yes, what a
relief. I was at boarding school. Safe! It was really early so the room was
still dim but an electrifying crescendo of pots and pans being beaten chaotically
ripped through the air.

“What time is it?”

“Five o’clock. Go back to sleep,” muttered Megan but the door burst open.

“Rise and shine, ‘Newbies’, it’s time for your exercise classes!”

I jumped up trembling in
both fear and excitement. Something grand was about to happen, I was sure of
it. Three or four more prefects clanged into the dormitory still banging pots
and pans.

“Out of bed, you lazy
girls. It’s time to swim! Costumes on in two minutes and everybody bring a
sports shoe with you,” commanded the head girl.

“Yes Miss Brewster!” we
all chorused in response. (For that first week only, we had to give the
prefects titles.) In no time, I was wearing my blue school bathing costume. I
groped around under the bed for a shoe. Where were my jolly sports shoes?

        Suddenly  someone gasped,
“Where on earth did you get that huge bruise on your thigh, Jane?”

Tinkie whistled. “Yikes!
What have you been doing? I last had one like that when my dad’s horse chucked
me over a fence!”

I wriggled out from under
the bed, shoe in hand and looked at the raised purple and yellow patch. I
briefly attempted to cover it with my hand but the bruise was too large. Thanks
Dad! He must have given me that last Thursday when I challenged him about
karate. Anthony was allowed to go but I had to stay home to do my ‘chores’. Of
course I knew that while Joanne was out with Anthony, no chores would get done
and then Joanne would come home and start yelling at me. So I’d argued and this
was the result.

“Oh stuff! I must have
walked into something,” I lied. “Maybe it’s from karate.” Dad had turned me
into quite a good liar. Now he wasn’t here to tell me what to do and I was
going to swim anyway and enjoy the orientation. With a small feeling of triumph
I grabbed my towel.

Soon we were being
frog-marched in twos to the pool, each carrying a bathing cap, a towel and one
shoe. January was seldom cold, even at five a.m. in this part of the country.
We were ordered to line up and sit on the concrete steps that formed a
spectators’ stand. In front, facing us was a line of prefects; behind was the
sparkling blue pool. Nervously, Megan and I sat close together.

 “Right girls,” Marsha
began. “Which of you has a baby sister or brother at home?”

A few hands went up.

“Good! Well let’s have
you, Piggytails!” I held my breath as the prefect pointed in our direction, but
they were pointing to a pretty blonde girl next to Megan.

“Stand up and tell us your
name.”

“Saskia Simpkins.”

“Well Saskia Pumpkins,
have you ever helped your Mom with the baby?” Everyone giggled nervously at the
name change.

“Yes, I help all the
time.”

“Good! Now you girls are
all going to find out what it is like to be a Mommy.” The prefects walked up
and down the row like drill sergeants. “Each of you has a new-born baby shoe in
your hand.” We started to look at each other and I heard a few more brave
sniggers. 

“Yes, you too, Saskia
Piggytails Pumpkins, and look at the cruel way you are holding it!”

Saskia had the shoe by the
laces. Girls began to relax and laugh.

“Now, Piggytails, you have
to stop holding it by its hair, or it’ll start to yell. Place it gently on the
towel and wrap it up nicely so that its face is showing and it can breathe,”
instructed the prefect in condescending tones.

Saskia’s blue eyes grew
bigger and she started to blush.

“Come on Piggytails, show
us how!” called another prefect. Saskia’s  hands were shaking but she managed
to do it and even cast a smile at Megan and me. I smiled back nervously. Girls
started to giggle. Soon the ‘shoe baby’ was wrapped up.

“Now, Saskia, can you hear
your baby?”

“No.” answered Saskia, a
little confused.  

“Well I can! Oh come on,
your baby is hungry. It’s yelling so loudly we can all hear it. Come on girls,
help Saskia hear her baby.”

No-one made a sound. The
head prefect pointed to another girl who’d put her hand up earlier.

 “You, Carrot Tops. You
have a baby sister. How do they sound when they cry?”

The red-haired girl turned
scarlet.

“Oh you are all such wets.
Come on – or you’ll do this every day at break next week in front of the
whole
school!” bellowed another hefty prefect with short curly hair and dark rimmed
glasses.

Carrots made a mewling
sound and the prefects laughed and clapped. “Louder! We still can’t hear it!”
Gradually all the girls started to join in making baby mewling sounds.  As we did,
we started to giggle.

“Now rock them to sleep,” hollered
another prefect.

“Waa…. They’re awake
again…change their nappies…feed them.” To our mortification, they made us hold
the shoes against our adolescent chests and ‘breast feed’ them!

The ritual went on for
about an hour. Eventually the seniors bored of that and made us put the ‘shoe
babies’ down to sleep.

 We were ordered to swim
lengths and a variety of childish races and games took place in the pool, using
tubes and beach balls.

After swimming we had the
most delicious breakfast I had ever tasted, probably all the more so because I
was cold and starving.

Later that day, we were
shown around the school buildings and taught to sing the school song along with
a host of other ridiculous chants to scream out at the opposition in future
sports meetings.

 The prefects led most of
the activities but there was the occasional presence of a member of staff to
check that the orientation didn’t get out of hand. It gave us all time to talk
and make friends, so for me, it was vital to record the events in my diary.

Friday 27 January 1989

I enrolled at my new school, St Catherine’s on Wednesday afternoon and in
the evening orientation began for all of the new girls. It’s mostly been fun
but the prefects also embarrass us a lot. We have to carry a new-born shoe baby
everywhere we go and we have to look after it like a real baby. They even woke
us up in the night to feed the babies!! So dumb! Cindy Williams dropped hers so
it went to “hospital”. She had to visit it every hour. Now the prefects say it
died so we have to have a funeral. It is kind of funny even if it is a bit
sick.

 Last night we had a film about Princess Diana.  Matron Ruth organised
pancakes for us afterwards. She is fierce but kind of nice.  At least I’m
having fun and there’s no-one here to touch me and spy and see what we are
doing.

Of course ‘he’ already phoned me to check and ask ‘the question’ and I’ve
only been here one day!  How can he think I will tell anyone? I am so ashamed,
I would rather die first. He asked if I love him. I said I do. I have to say
that because of who he is… But I wish he would get out of my life.

We moved our room around to suit ourselves. We each have our own cupboard
and bedside locker. There is a huge old wooden dressing table in each room for
us to share.

 My room-mates are Megan and Tinkie. Megan is an only child, and Tinkie
has two older sisters who’ve left school already.  Tinkie reminds me of  Wendy
on the farm. She’s plastered photographs of her horse and magazine cuttings of
horses all over the wall beside her bed. I am sure I can smell horses when I
look at Tinkie’s wall.

Megan has photographs of Princess Diana on every spare inch of her wall.
I don’t have space for pictures as my bed is next to the window. But I don’t
care. I can see the wide open spaces that make me feel free! Saskia is in the
room next to ours.

There are twelve juniors’ rooms and a prefect’s room in each dormitory.
We have three in each room.  Our prefect is Debbie Van der Spuy. She is so
beautiful with blonde hair and she could be a model. I wish I could look like
her. Problem is she is not very nice to us. She is so bossy and makes the
entire dorm of junior girls slave for her.

This term my job is going to be getting up in the morning to make Debbie
coffee. She has a kettle in her room.

Megan has to get up and run her bath.

Tinkie has to warm the toilet seat early in the morning by sitting on it
first. Can you believe that?!!!!!!

Carrots (no-one knows her real name), has to carry Debbie’s books to
school and Saskia has to make her bed. All the prefects say they had to do it
when they were juniors and we’ll get our turn later. Actually, I think prefects
suck! But there is no point in complaining. As long as I wake Debbie on time
with a cup of coffee made the way she likes it (she is really fussy) I will be
okay.

All the other girls will arrive on Monday afternoon, and lessons start on
Tuesday.

The bathroom here is a sort of dusty pink. The baths are quite old. The
showers only have curtains separating them but luckily the toilets each have a
door.

At least there is no one to look through the windows and watch me bath
and I have a room to share with friends. No one can come in at night and upset
me. It really is a wish-come-true.

Amnon became frustrated to the point of illness

on account of his sister Tamar,

for she was a virgin,

…he grabbed her and said,

“Come to bed with me, my sister.”

2
Samuel 13:6 & 11

The first three weeks of school were wonderful. Like a bird that had fled
its cage, I felt free at last. I could deal with the shoe-baby nonsense; I
could laugh my way through my ‘mourning’ when it died and I conquered the early
morning Phys. Ed. routine. I even managed to cope with the teasing from the
prefects and some of the girls in my dorm. I was starting to understand the
work in the classroom and I’d actually passed a couple of short tests.

Megan and Tinkie were becoming my friends (although I liked Megan more).
We could laugh together at silly things and I was starting to get their jokes
and even tease them back. Then at dinner three weeks after term began, Matron
Ruth came to talk to all the girls in the dining room.

“Well girls I want to congratulate everybody involved in the ‘Newbies'
programme’. I think the prefects did a great job and all of you are settling in
well. So….” she smiled at us and looked around triumphantly, “… next weekend
will
be a closed one. That means the hostel closes and you all go home for a few
days!” 

 The girls around me were cheering and clapping. I covered my ears as
nausea swelled in my gut.   

“Isn’t that great Jane?” Tinkie nudged me and I felt my throat constrict.

 “I’m going to gag!” I whispered and ran outside. Why did we have to go
home so soon?

A voice behind me said, “Are you okay Jane?” Matron Ruth must have seen
me leave. 

“Um, um I feel sick. I can’t go home.  I won’t  be able to go home…”

“Of course you can, you’re probably just excited! Besides, if you’re ill
your parents will be even happier to have you back home to nurse you and spoil
you. You’ve been away three weeks already! And look at how often your Dad has
phoned to see how you’re doing…”

“No! I don’t want to go home. My stepmother hates me. I have to go to
work with my father and ….”

“Calm down,” matron cooed, patting me gently on the back.  “I’m sure she
doesn’t hate you, it’s just that she is busy with the babies…”

At that moment Megan came out of the dining hall. “Look after her Megan,”
Matron called, but I pulled away and ran up to my room.

Friday 10 February 1989

Adults are always the same.  They always take the side of other adults!
That’s why you can’t tell them anything! They don’t understand and they don’t
ever listen.

The rest of the week I had no appetite and continued to feel nauseous.
Matron Sandy in sick bay gave me foul-tasting medicine and my friends told me I
would be fine. Let them think what they wanted. I sure wasn’t telling them the
truth.

On Friday afternoon, as we began the walk from the school buildings to
the boarding establishment, we heard, “Toot, toot!”  An old blue Mercedes drove
up beside us. “Would you ladies like a lift?”

I knew the voice and my heart sank.

“Jane, it’s your dad!” shouted Tinkie. “And Joanne is not with him! Come
on Megan, get in. Jane, go and say hello!” My two excited friends hopped in the
back seat and I sauntered round to the front.

“Hello my Baby, did you miss me?” asked Dad as he leant across to kiss
me. I turned my head and received his kiss on the cheek.

“Hello Dad.” I responded. “This is Megan and that is Tinkie.”

“Hi there girls!” He smiled and asked how the term had been, as he
watched them in his mirror.

“Fine, fine.” They babbled away and I seethed. He could always do it! He
could always be Mr Nice Guy to other people. Look how he sucked up to Matron!
They would never see his temper and everything else…

The other girls raced upstairs to collect their packed cases and rushed
them down to the big veranda to await their parents, but I didn’t feel like
rushing. I wanted to stay here at school, in the big red building. It was my
strong tower. Eventually I had to go downstairs with my case and there I saw
Dad and Matron Ruth laughing together as she said,  “… anyway … here she is,
right as rain. Have a lovely weekend, Jane. Mr  Farrell, don’t forget to sign
the book, please.”

We signed the exit book and left.

Dad climbed into his side and started the car. I sat as close to my door
as I could.  He put the car in gear and we pulled away.

“So how are you my big girl?” he asked as he smiled at me. It was that
long slow smile where he just looked and looked.

“Fine.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” he said and then added, “Why are you scrunched
up in the corner? Come sit next to me so I can hug you.” I didn’t get it. One
moment he was talking to me like a baby and the next he was doing things to me
that I’d only seen men do to women on late night TV.

He took my hand and pulled me closer to him. He hugged my shoulders then
slid his hand onto my leg just above the knee and squeezed it.

“No Dad. NO touching.”

His smile disappeared and he shot me a sudden warning glance as he
returned his hand to the wheel, his expression changing.  “Have you told
anybody our secret?”

“No Dad.
Your
secret is safe.”

“Are you sure?” He was not smiling now.

“Yes.” It made me so mad that he always called it ‘our’ secret. As if I
had any choice!

He looked hard at me and I knew I was looking sullen and feeling surly. I
also knew how much he hated that “teenage” attitude. If I didn’t hide it, he’d
use the back of his hand to change it before we were half way home. 

“Tell me about school!” He tried to sound light hearted.

“I told you on the phone, Dad. You phoned me a lot you know.”

“Well I needed to check up
on you. To make sure you were alright.”

“You needed to check up on
me to see if your disgusting little secret was still safe,” I thought. Then I
said, “Well you phoned more than all the other girls’ fathers. It was
embarrassing. They think I am a home-sick baby. I thought I was just meant to
phone you on Thursdays. That should be enough…”

“Well I can’t help it if I
love you more than all their families love them.”

We were barely on the main
road when he again placed his hand on my leg and started stroking my inner
thigh.  In no time his hand would be in my secret places, touching and
disturbing me again. He was far worse than Damon and it was much easier to hate
Damon.

“Dad, don’t.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“Dad other cars can see
what you are doing.”

“Of course they can’t!
Look into the cars going past. What can you see ...?”

“Please stop it, Dad…”

“No-one can see us. You
know I love you.”

“What about the lorries?
And buses?”

“Nonsense.”

It didn’t matter how much
I asked him to stop, he never did. Those hands did what they wanted and if I
protested too much he’d become violent.

How I detested
my body.