How to Be Brave Page 9

  “Amazing,” said Calla.

  Edie smiled at her. “I promised a revolution,” she said. “This is just the beginning.”

  And when Edmée Berger made a promise, she really did make it for keeps.

  A MIDNIGHT TRIP OVER THE ROOFS

  That night, Edie led the members of the North Tower bedroom across the roofs at midnight. She informed them of certain rules before doing so109 and then climbed out the window and said, “Follow me.” And when you are presented at midnight with a small, determined French girl telling you to follow her, you do precisely that. Hanna was already halfway out the window by the time Calla had figured out what was going on and then when she did, she joined the two of them on the roof and felt her heart almost explode from excitement. She didn’t usually do things like this. But now she did, and it was perfect.

  Hanna gestured at the moon and stars above them and said, “We used to do this actually officially. Good Sister June took us all out here once for an evening performance of some theatre thing the little kids had been working on. Good Sister Honey brought cupcakes. We stayed out here until the sun came up.”

  Even in the darkness, Calla could see that Hanna was near tears. She leaned over and grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Good Sister June’s trying to solve this,” she said. “She said she’d come back. And I know she will. It’s going to get better.”

  “It’s getting better right now,” said Edie. “Or at least, it will if those “enfants are on schedule. Come on.” She gestured toward a distant window and started walking. There was just enough light to see where they were putting their feet, and Hanna paused to make sure that Calla was all right when they came to anywhere difficult. It was really just like walking down a street but this street was level with the tops of the trees, and every now and then the wind would rise enough to lift Calla’s hair up off her neck and make her skin tingle with cold.

  When they reached the window, Edie tapped on it three times. There was no response. She then tapped on it another three times and when there was still no response, she gave up and said, “We are here, my little pomme de terre. Let us in.”

  A small face appeared at the window. In truth, it was more eyes than face, and more panic than action. Edie could sometimes be very intimidating and her arrival at the window at midnight had panicked many people in the past. Amelia Warren was no exception to this rule and so she stood there for a moment, paralyzed by indecision, until Edie gestured at the lock on the window and raised her eyebrows pointedly. Amelia squeaked and unlocked the window, pushing it open so that the other three could climb in.

  “Sorry,” she said, “but I’m not good under pressure.”

  “You will learn,” Edie said as she clambered inside the bedroom.

  “We brought biscuits,” said Hanna, following her. “And a new girl. This is Calla.”

  Calla closed the window behind her. “Hello,” she said, staring with interest at the new bedroom. It was very similar to the North Tower bedroom but substantially less tidy. In fact, it looked a little bit like Amelia shared her room with a whirlwind and a cyclone and not, as she did, with a girl named Ellen and another one called Gajal. Of course Calla did not know this then, but she discovered it within the next five minutes when they returned and informed Edie that it was done. The moment that they’d finished speaking, Amelia turned off the lights, Gajal opened the curtains, and Ellen pushed the window back open.

  The sound of distant beeping came across the rooftop. And then: yelling.

  “Oh, well done,” said Edie.

  THE FIRST PROBLEM

  And so, because of the night that she spent in the other bedroom and the fact that they did not get back to the North Tower until the distant sky turned pink with the dawn, Calla did not realize that her mother had not yet called her.

  REALIZING AN ABSENCE IN THE WORLD

  It was not the missing of the phone call that was the problem, for Elizabeth had missed phone calls before. She was not good at doing things that had been arranged, or responding to emails on time, or indeed doing any of the things that adults expect of one another in order to maintain their adultish ways.

  It was not necessarily a problem that she had missed this particular call, for there were several Important Factors to Consider. Elizabeth was excited. She was off to the Amazon. She was, in fact, there already and trying to find the duck she’d dreamed of all her life. She would check in soon enough. Everything was all right.

  At least, this is what Calla told herself when she realized that her mother had not called.

  I do not think she believed much of what she told herself but, at least, she tried.

  THE SECRETS OF GOOD SISTER CHRISTINE

  I am pleased, in a way, that all of this drama happened while Calla was at school. I appreciate that none of it would have happened at all had she stayed at home with Elizabeth in their increasingly fragile existence, but it happened and she was surrounded by friends as it did. That meant that rather than worrying about her mum, as she had done so often in the past, she had things to distract her. The first of these distractions came very early in the morning upon the second day. Unfortunately Calla was still lying in bed trying to persuade herself that everything was okay and was so lost in her thoughts that she did not notice it until Hanna squeaked in a loud and not terribly subtle sort of fashion.

  Hanna’s squeaks have never been the sort of thing that you could ignore, and so Calla didn’t. She rolled over and beheld the curious sight of Good Sister Christine, Hanna, and Edie having a very quiet and very secretive conversation in the door of the North Tower bedroom.

  A part of Calla did not move. Another part of her did not even breathe.

  Good Sister Christine produced a small book from a bag she carried on her shoulder. She gave it to Hanna and murmured something, smilingly, under her breath. Hanna squeaked again with excitement and then with annoyance when Edie elbowed her in the ribs. “Shut up,” said Edie. “Calla’s asleep.”

  Calla decided to get straight to the point. “No I’m not. What’s going on?”

  All three of them turned around. Hanna’s turning around was rather more dramatic than the others as it involved her making a panicked expression and flinging her book to the side of the room. She then looked appalled at her actions and ran after it, apologizing under her breath.110

  “What you have witnessed, Calla, is a secret library,” said Edie with commendable and characteristic calm. “The headmistress banned us from having good books, or actually any books at all, so Good Sister Christine brings them round first thing in the morning. She’s part of the revolution. She will lead us over the barricades when the time comes.”

  Good Sister Christine pulled an I’m not sure about that face. “I’m not sure about that,” she said. “I just like people to have good books.” She gave Hanna a quick glance of sympathy111 before she stepped into the North Tower bedroom and carefully closed the door behind her. “We can speak freely for a while. The headmistress didn’t get much sleep last night so she’s resting in bed until this afternoon. Nevertheless, it does us good to take precautions under the circumstances.”

  Calla suddenly realized something. “This is why you had the books in the car and shushed me when I was going to mention them to “her.”

  Good Sister Christine nodded. There was no need to specify who her was. “People who tell you what not to read are generally not good people,” she said. She perched on the end of Calla’s bed and patted Hanna supportively on the shoulder. Edie had already taken the opportunity to go back to sleep. “The authorities that now run this school are determined to tell you all what you should or shouldn’t read and their decisions are valid, up to a point. But you cannot exist on math papers and old exams alone. You have to read some good stuff.”

  “Like this,” said Hanna, who was now holding her book in her arms in the manner of a person who had just won the lottery.

  “After you’ve finished that, I’ll bring you My Friend Flicka and Mi
sty of Chincoteague.”

  Hanna made an indescribable sound of happiness.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” said Good Sister Christine.

  “But what if you get caught doing this?” said Calla. The thought of Good Sister Christine being caught made her feel a tiny bit sick. There was always somebody out there waiting for people to slip up. It always happened. “Will they try to get rid of you, as well?”

  Good Sister Christine pulled a thoughtful expression. It was a rare and beautiful thing for her to do. She has not always been one for considering the ramifications of her actions but trust me, she’d thought this one through.

  “There’s a saying,” she said slowly, “that you ‘keep your friends close but your enemies closer.’ And if I ran this school and had a hundred nuns doing what I’m doing, then I’d keep them all right where I could see them. I’m not going anywhere.”

  And the moment that she finished, the bell rang to start another day at the School of the Good Sisters.

  THE LENGTH OF A DISTRACTION

  Calla’s first class took place on top of the roof. They learned how to calculate the ratio of jam-to-cream on a scone, and worked out fractions based on slices of Victoria sponge, and looked very carefully innocent when the headmistress came out to join them. If you were to look up a picture of angry in the dictionary, you would probably see a photograph of the expression on her face. It was not pleasant. “Why on earth are you taking your class on the roof?” she said.

  “Because all of the furniture is here,” said Good Sister Gwendolyn, looking rather confused. It was a very logical response really. She had been scheduled to teach a class and she could not do that without tables and chairs, so she had taken the students to where the tables and chairs were. And that was on the roof.112

  The headmistress did not say anything.

  Good Sister Gwendolyn tried to improve the situation. I am not sure this was the best thing to do under the circumstances, but they were circumstances that required some sort of doing something. She was, after all, teaching on a roof. “The girls show an intrinsic motivation when learning in the fresh air. I read about it in one of the educational journals you made us read.” The class nodded even though the vast majority of them did not understand what intrinsic meant, and the fresh air had actually made Rose fall asleep at her desk.

  The headmistress said something that I shall not repeat here. Luckily enough she said it at a volume to wake Rose and make her hold up her hand and look like an eager member of the class.

  Good Sister Gwendolyn kept her eyes on the headmistress and said, very softly, “I am teaching the girls to the best of my ability and I know that is something you want to support.”

  “Of course,” said the headmistress. “I am here for their education above all things.” It was an effort, but the headmistress said it because she knew that Good Sister Gwendolyn was right. Learning outside makes you understand things better, and focus more,113 and sometimes when you are able to learn on a roof so high that it feels like you are more sky than person, it makes you feel like you can take on the world. The headmistress’s problem was not that they were learning on the roof, but that they were doing so without permission.

  And so the headmistress climbed down from the roof and went to google things like How do I lock windows? and Good Sister Gwendolyn went back to teaching her class.

  At the end of it, however, she caught Edie and pulled her aside. “I am not making any comments nor accusing anybody of anything,” she said, “but if I were the sort of person to put all of the classroom furniture on the roof overnight, I would make sure I included a comfy chair for the teacher to sit on and at least two biscuits for them to dunk into their tea.”

  “Custard creams?” said Edie.

  “Pink wafers,” said Good Sister Gwendolyn.

  ANOTHER MISSED CALL

  I would like you to imagine something you want very much. It doesn’t matter what it is. It just matters how you feel about it. It must be one of those perfect things that will make your life a little bit better when it happens and it is so perfect that the moments leading up to it barely exist because you are just waiting for that thing to happen.

  Now I would like you to imagine how you would feel if that thing does not happen.

  This is precisely how Calla North felt when Elizabeth missed her second scheduled call. What was worse was that she did not answer when Calla dialed her number three times in a row. Instead, Elizabeth’s voicemail answered and even the sound of her mother saying, “Do “you know what it’s called when it starts raining ducks?114 I’ll tell you when I call you quack. Leave a message!” did not make her feel better.

  If anything, it made her feel worse.

  AN UNFORTUNATE REALITY

  And the worst thing of all was this: Calla North had to keep going. She had to go to bed and wake up and attend school, because that was what her life was now. In a way, it is good that she had that structure about her for I think that without it, she may have curled up into a corner and begun to cry and never stop.

  But that was not an option, and so she did not take it. She was brave, and every time she looked at her phone, she closed her eyes and willed her mother to call home.

  And every now and then, a revolution led by a small and quite furious French girl distracted her from even that.

  THE THIRD DAY OF EDIE BERGER’S GLORIOUS REVOLUTION

  The third day saw cats. Fifteen of them, to be precise, sunning themselves in the hall as though they had been there all along. Henry, who belonged to Mr. Richardson from the village115 and had been smuggled back in Amelia Warren’s jumper,116 was stretched across the staff table; meanwhile Tabitha, who belonged to Mrs. White and had been lured back to the school by the promise of ear rubs from Sabia Gopal, was happily scratching her claws on the back of the headmistress’s chair.

  The headmistress screamed when she saw them. This is not the sort of thing one should do when one sees a cat. But the headmistress was not only allergic to most types of animals117 but also had a marked distaste for animals in the curriculum, or indeed anywhere in the school. And so she screamed and the natural consequence of this was that the entire school came to see what she was screaming about.

  As she stood there, Maisie Holloway had the great idea to release a mouse into the room. It was not, as she pointed out in hushed whispers, an actual mouse but rather a small remote-controlled toy, and she would never risk the life of an actual mouse because she wasn’t a monster. Some of her roommates disagreed with this, remembering the night she had eaten fish fingers with custard, and there was a fierce and heartfelt discussion before they remembered that the headmistress herself was standing only a few meters away and that perhaps arguing was something best saved for later. This untimely situation was resolved by Sethi Gopal,118 who reminded them all of her own particular special talent and suggested that it might prove a useful distraction. And so a decision was made: Just as the headmistress paused for breath and the room was suddenly silent, Sethi Gopal fainted in a remarkably convincing fashion onto the floor.

  As the girls shouted for help and nuns rushed toward Sethi, Maisie sent her remote-controlled mouse down the center of the hall and toward Henry. Henry was not the smartest of cats, nor indeed the youngest, but the sight of a mouse heading straight at him made him feel like a kitten again. Within seconds he was leaping off the table and heading straight toward it. In the process, he knocked over several glasses, three plates, and the fruit bowl that Good Sister Honey insisted on leaving out as a Good Message for the children. The noise was horrendous: the headmistress started screaming again, Sabia started crying, and several cats who were already quite confused about the last fifteen minutes suddenly realized that they were in the same room as many of their mortal enemies and started fighting. Prince Marmaduke of Marmalade gave up on all of this nonsense and started to carefully climb the curtains.119

  “GET THESE ANIMALS OUT OF THIS ROOM,” said the headmistress.

  Some
of the first-years bustled forward to help. Unfortunately several of them stood on Sethi Gopal, who let out a loud yell and then remembered she was supposed to have fainted and so fainted again. Good Sister Robin began singing for some reason that nobody else understood, and several cats started fighting in and around the headmistress’s legs. It was quite beautifully chaotic.

  “Did you have anything to do with this?” said Hanna to Edie, as they watched Sabia Gopal disentangle a long-haired Persian from the cutlery. “No,” said Edie. She looked deeply and utterly content. “It’s really a two-star effort at best. They could do better. I’ll drop by their room tonight and offer some tips.”

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” said Good Sister Christine, who had accidentally-on-purpose picked an excellent vantage point at the back of the room. She turned around to look at Calla, who was standing next to them and hadn’t said a word since the whole thing had started. “Calla, you’re very quiet. Is everything all right?”

  And by the look Calla gave her, she realized that it was not.

  It was very much not.

  AN UNEXPECTED GIFT

  Good Sister Christine took Calla out of the hall and led her down the corridor. She paused outside one classroom, before shaking her head and propelling Calla into another.

  Calla said, “I haven’t heard from my mum.”

  “Were you expecting to?” Good Sister Christine gestured toward a stool. “Have a seat. You’re in boarding school. She’s in the Amazon. There was going to be a brief point of disconnect, surely?”