Silver Wings

by Ray_Frost

Summary:

An exploration of Jennifer Honey's childhood, told through flashbacks as she processes the start of her new job. There will be a happy ending!

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 -

 

‘When I went into Teachers’ Training I was eighteen,’ Miss Honey said

‘You could have just packed up and walked away,’ Matilda said.

‘Not until I got a job’, Miss Honey said. ‘And don’t forget, I was by then dominated by my aunt to such an extent that I wouldn’t have dared.'

 

The audience applauded as the graduating class of Reading Teaching College filed onto the stage of the great hall. Jenny Honey climbed the steps, eyes blinking as the harsh lights warmed her face and she fought the urge to cower and run. She felt the eyes of her classmate’s friends and family upon her and how even though she couldn’t see any faces, just blurs of smiles and hands, she knew no one was here for her. She took her seat along the back of the stage and for the first time in a long time she held her head high, she had achieved something incredible in spite of all that was going on in her life she had done something for herself; her aunt always told her she was good for nothing but now she could prove her wrong, she was here on this stage after all, she smiled and let herself soak up the moment she’d fought so hard for. 

Jane Cartley waved her hand and silence settled over the room, 'Welcome to all of our family and friends, welcome to our graduates' there was a brief pause as a cheer went up echoing off of the wooden floors, a smile crept across Jane’s face, she loved end of year, not just for the break that came with summer but to watch another cohort of promising young teachers ready to take on the challenges of shaping the next generation. This year they’d had a fairly small number of trainees and she wondered how many of them would last in the profession. They'd all begun high on their enthusiasm but across the year the reality of the education system had knocked a few of them down. The only trainee they’d had who remained as passionate as when they’d started and didn’t seem disillusioned by the harsh reality was Jennifer Honey. The young girl had started the course a couple of weeks late due to an admin mix up and her mentors had labelled her too timid to properly control a class, she was seen as a failure from the offset and yet on every placement the girl had won the respect and love of every student, they seemed to gravitate towards her. Outwardly she shone nothing but hope, kindness and genuine excitement of simply learning but behind those soft brown eyes was a harder truth, something of horror you could see only if you managed to make eye contact, this girl wasn’t as good at hiding as she thought. Jane shook her head banishing her wandering thoughts.

'It is with great pleasure that I get to ask those behind me to stand and meet me to receive their official certificates and begin what I hope is an incredible career inspiring the next generation.' Jane made her way to the centre of the stage as Martin, the assistant programme runner, started to read the list of students sitting in a row against the back wall. Each took their turn to stand and loop their way to the end of the stage, cross, tip their hats, get their certificate and loop back to their seat smiling and waving at their family in the audience as they did so.

'Jennifer Honey'

Jenny stood up and made her way across the stage, casting a quick glance at the empty seat in the first row which had been reserved for her, each student had gotten a singular seat for their guest and could apply for further if necessary. Jenny had written to Jane and said she was more than happy to give up her spot to another but the older woman had insisted that she bring someone to offer support. So upon the wooden chair was a delicate silver frame she had placed an hour before. It held the one picture of her mother and father in existence, her aunt had destroyed all evidence of their happy marriage the day Jenny’s father was carried into the morgue but the young girl had managed to slip this particular one off of the mantelpiece when her aunt’s back was turned, place it up her jumper and stow it safely under a loose floorboard in her room where she liked to hide her treasures away from the brutish force of her aunt, here they could remain safe and protected. Today marked an important moment for her future, she finally had something that was hers, and hers alone and she wanted her parents to see that despite what the past fifteen years had to say otherwise she was not pathetic. A tear formed as she locked eyes with her mother and father and she wished that once this ceremony was over they’d all be able to get ice cream at Scoops of Delight like they used to when she was five and they could eat their cones whilst shortlisting schools she could apply to. Instead her parents remained motionless and smiling, trapped in a gilded frame. 

Jenny reluctantly tore her eyes away and focused on the certificate in Jane’s hand, it was so close, her palms began to feel sticky as her heart rate sped up. The girl made her way across the stage. One foot in front of the other, there we go. She reassured herself and controlled her breathing. She reached the centre and felt the spotlight upon her, she bowed, lifting her cap at Jane and extended her hand to receive the paper. She could feel the palpable tension between her and the paper, paper which held her freedom, paper which could offer an escape. 

But just as Jane was placing the paper in Jenny’s hand a loud BANG! reverberated across the room and every head snapped back to see what had caused the disturbance, before they returned to face the stage just as quickly. 

Martin coughed and gestured for Jane to resume 'As we were, let us continue', Jane turned to face Jenny and pass on the certificate placing it atop the girl’s outstretched palm but as she let go of the paper she realised a second too late that the young girl was rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on the door as the paper hit the ground. 

At the back of the room the light shone through the open door silhouetting the woman who had interrupted the proceedings so unceremoniously. Her muscular frame cast a shadow across the back few rows and a grunt escaped her lips as she let the door swing shut behind her and she made her way down the centre aisle, her eyes locked on the now shivering girl centre stage. The new arrival seemed not to care enough to simply slot herself in the nearest empty seat and instead walked forwards at a painfully slow pace, as if she was a predator who knew that there was no escape for her trembling prey and was simply enjoying watching the realisation hit. The room was hushed as Martin caught Jane’s eye and gestured to the certificate laying on the ground. Jane in turn tried to catch Jenny’s attention but the girl was busy watching her aunt pick up the photograph of her parents, an evil sneer slapped on her face as she placed it underneath the chair face up and with a curt nod towards Jenny she took her seat and drove the heel of her brown leather boot into the glass, “oops, don’t mind me, my bus was late.” This woman spoke in a soft sing-song voice which to the untrained ear sounded genuine but to Jenny it was a more dangerous tone than yelling and screaming. 

Jenny’s eyes began to fill with tears as she whispered to herself, 'she doesn’t catch the bus'. Jane placed a soft hand onto the girl’s shoulder and felt an immediate jolt as the girl pulled away and startled back to life, picked up the paper from the ground, smiled meekly at her and practically bolted back into her chair, keeping her gaze fixated on a very interesting mark on the ground by her feet.

The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, the mood only slightly marred by the late arrival and after the collection of certificates concluded Jane made a speech about everyone’s accomplishments this year, and a guest speaker from one of their partner schools spoke about the new challenges awaiting the next generation of teachers as the national curriculum changes yet again. Jenny could feel her blood boiling as the penetrating gaze from her aunt forced her to squirm in her seat. The minute all was over and the newly qualified teachers lined up and stepped down off the stage joining the smiling throngs of open arms that awaited them Jennifer Honey immediately made a beeline for the toilets only for her to let out an involuntary scream as a firm hand grasped onto the back of her dress.

'Just where do you think you’re going?' a gruff voice whispered into her ear.

'Th…th..the t..t...toilet Aunt Agatha', Jenny managed to push the words out as terror held her in place. 

'I am so sorry I was late, you know I wouldn’t miss it for the world' the soft voice her aunt had shifted into caused whiplash to the young girl until she was wheeled around to face both her aunt and Jane Cartley, the young girl knew that the longer her aunt was forced to keep up this kind pretence the worse things would be when they got home and her aunt could finally release her pent up anger. Jenny shivered.

'Jennifer, or should I say Miss Honey now?' Jane smiled offering a small laugh, clearly holding words back between clenched teeth, 'I just wanted to say how proud I am of all you have achieved this year, you are by far one of our most outstanding trainees we have ever had.'

Agatha let out a snort which received a glare from Jane and accompanied a tightening of the hand around Jenny’s shoulder. 'As I was saying,' Jane turned her attention back to the girl, 'we have had all three of your placement schools reach out and offer you a place teaching with them full time. Now of course you won’t need to make your mind up just yet but it is something to think about'.

Jenny’s heart soared, the praise didn’t quite settle as it wasn’t something she was used to getting but the idea that she could choose between several different freedoms that were laying at her feet was incredible, maybe it was time she could finally make her escape, maybe just for once things would go her way. Although her aunt hadn’t lessened her grip on the young ward she could feel it almost drift away into the distance. She began to daydream about St Mary’s and the delightful art room and colourful murals she had helped her students paint, or Broadchalke Primary and the music room or St Edmunds and the library with the puppet show corner where she had spent many a lunchtime helping the children to create their own stories. Her daydreams were cut short as her aunt moved to stand between her and Jane.

'That won’t be necessary.' The imposing woman stated, 'Young Jenny here already has a teaching position lined up.'

'I do?' The young girl looked up at her aunt in puzzlement, as her aunt continued to stare down Jane with her back to her ward. This was news to Jenny, surely she’d have known if she had already secured a place somewhere, unless she really was getting as forgetful as her aunt made her out to be?

'What do you mean?' Jane enquired. Usually all job opportunities gained prior to graduation went through her and she certainly hadn’t heard anything from Jennifer herself, in fact to get any word out of that one voluntarily would have been a miracle. 

'A position has recently opened up teaching a reception class in Halington, the village young Jenny here is from, actually. It’s at Crunchem Hall Primary School' Agatha grinned down at her niece who looked up in terror to meet the terrifying gaze her aunt was proudly wearing as the realisation dawned upon Jenny that today would not mark her great escape but would, instead, mark the day her aunt solidified the inevitability of her fate - how foolish she had been to expect otherwise.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

“When I got my teacher’s job, the aunt told me I owed her a lot of money. I asked her why. She said, “Because I’ve been feeding you for all these years and buying your shoes and your clothes!” She told me it added up to thousands and I had to pay her back by giving her my salary for the next ten years. “I’ll give you one pound a week pocket money,” she said. “But that’s all you’re going to get.” She even arranged with the school authorities to have my salary paid directly into her own bank. She made me sign the paper.”

 

Agatha Trunchbull’s car rolled onto the driveway, the whole journey she’d remained silent, Jenny knew that unlike the usual silence that occurred when her aunt couldn’t immediately lash out, the silence which bubbled until it could explode at home, this was instead silence of triumph.The older woman wore a proud smirk and let her shoulders relax out of their typical tense state, as if she was daring her ward to speak. Jenny, however, knew better than to speak without being spoken to first so she had continued to stare out of the passenger window watching the trees and bushes rush past in a blur of green and brown desperately keeping her tears at bay. She could be packing her bags to move out tonight, she could be drawing up a pros and cons lists for each teaching offer, she could be out with her classmates, celebrating the completion of a tough year. What was it Jane had said? - she was one of their most outstanding trainees. She felt a warm glow flush her cheeks as she smiled, maybe she could be a good teacher, maybe she wasn’t as pathetic as she thought. Jenny allowed her mind to drift amongst those pleasant thoughts and it was only when she could hear the tires crunching on the gravel driveway did she bring her attention back to her aunt who was turning the key in the ignition, silencing the engine.

 

“Get out.” The even measure to her aunt’s voice caught Jenny off guard and the older woman noticed her hesitation, “do I need to repeat myself, Jen?” a small smirk crept into the corner of the woman's mouth.                                                                                                                                                                                                                

 

“N..No Aunt Trunchbull”, Jenny stuttered as she quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and leapt out of the car. Looking up she caught her Aunt’s eye over the car roof and her eyes lingered a touch too long making the older woman drop her smirk and roughly gesture towards the front door. Jenny blinked and, head lowered, scurried across the threshold.

 

Agatha shut her car door and turned to look over her shoulder, through the doorway she could see her niece quickly and quietly removing her shoes and moving to stand by the grandfather clock in the entranceway. Agatha stifled a chuckle, she had trained the girl well. She slowly turned and made her way up the front steps relishing every second, today she’d set in motion the rest of her ward’s life, she was proud, maybe if she could keep control of the girl a while longer she’d finally be able to break the last resistance down and her work would be complete. The older woman took in the sight before her, a shaking girl whose eyes darted between Agatha’s feet and her own, yes, she thought, she’d done very well thus far and tonight would settle it, forever.

 

Jenny watched as her aunt’s footsteps got closer and closer with every tick on the grandfather clock. How many times had she stood here and watched her aunt approach? How many times had she refused to stand up for herself as aunt belittled her? 

 

“I..I..I’m s..sorry!” cried Jenny as she stood next to the clock in the hall. She was desperately fighting back tears, she may only be five but she learnt long ago that tears make everything worse, her aunt hated crying, tears meant weakness. Scrunching her eyes shut tight she whispered under her breath, “together, forever”. 

 

Forever that’s what her father had promised her, but forever must be shorter than people thought, it was either that or her father was a liar and a promise breaker. Which he was not. The young girl’s hands shook in tiny fists as she recalled the moments that had led to her standing here listening to the tick of the old clock and watching her aunt slowly approach. She saw flashes of her father’s body laying limp, slumped over his desk, her aunt on the phone to the police, the house filling with people who kept asking questions, so many questions, and some formally dressed men carrying a large box and it being carted off into the back of a big black car. Jenny had sat on her rope swing back turned, refusing to watch the car pull away, refusing to acknowledge that forever was over. 

 

“You need to watch your mouth or you’re going to get yourself into a lot of trouble young lady,” Jenny looked up through watery eyes at her aunt jumping at the realisation that she’d managed to get so close without the young girl’s knowledge. Agatha noted the involuntary movement and a smile spread wide, she leant in so the girl could feel the hot breath on her cheek and whispered, “no wonder your father killed himself, having such a snivelling, pathetic mess as a daughter I don’t blame him. And telling tales to that social worker, thank goodness she saw straight through you, Magnus will be turning over in his grave.” 

 

Jenny felt a stab deep in her chest and there was no holding back the sobs that brought her to her knees as she let out all the emotion she’d held back, guttural screams echoed around the otherwise silent house. Her father was dead and it was her fault, the people with all the questions had situated themselves in the living room with her aunt but she had heard them talking, catching a few words here and there - “looking after the child”, “must be hard”, “When did his wife pass?”, “Is Jenny a difficult child”, “tantrums”, “crying”, “unhealthy”, “lying” - so many words that when strung together in the five year olds mind added up to her being too much for her father to look after without her mother and now he was dead and her aunt would be her guardian.

 

Time seemed to stand still as the screams ripped apart her throat and the tears ran out transforming into empty heaving. The pain wasn’t physical like that from her aunt’s beatings no, this pain was so much worse, it cut deep inside her and burned hot like the sun, it overwhelmed her like a wave crushing her under the pressure and only easing enough for a short breath before coming crashing back down ten times harder. 

 

She was so consumed by this pain she didn’t take notice of her aunt as she grabbed her shoulder and roughly brought her to her feet, readjusted her grip on the girl’s arm and began to drag her deeper into the house towards the kitchen. It was only when Jenny heard the clanking of the keys being picked up from the sideboard that she focused on what was happening around her, the keys could only mean one thing.

 

“NO!” Fear radiated through her body as she pulled at her aunt’s hand doing nothing to move it from its firm position. Agatha said nothing but lifted a key in her free hand unlocking the door in the corner of the kitchen. “P..Please, Aunt Agatha, please, I d..don’t w..ant the dark, I d..don’t wan-”

 

“YOU ARE PATHETIC CHILD!” Agatha snapped, lifting the girl up by the arm so they were face to face, spittle flew with every word and the door swung open, “YOU DO NOT “WANT”, YOU DO NOT GET A SAY IN YOUR PUNISHMENT”. Jenny was sent hurtling down the steps into the dark by a forceful shove. She pushed herself to her knees, ignoring the pain in her shoulder as she turned to look up at the doorway and her aunt, backlit by the kitchen windows.“Now”, her aunt's softened voice was whiplash to the young child, “I have important jobs to get on with and you must learn a lesson. How many times do I need to tell you that tears get you nowhere?” Her aunt paused and Jenny let out a short sniff trying to wipe away fresh tears which had begun to fall. “Pathetic”, Agatha sighed, “See you later Jen, try and grow a backbone.” The door slammed shut, a lock clicked and all went dark.

 

Jenny shivered at the memory, she’d been let out the following morning only to be met with a large parcel addressed to her. Aunt Agatha had watched her open it with glee, whilst the young girl tore into it with confusion. It had been a tall narrow wardrobe which soon replaced the basement as the older woman’s preferred punishment for her niece. 

 

Back in the present Jenny kept her eyes lowered and focused on the military boots making their way towards her, she should be grateful she supposed, at least she was going to get to teach at all. She could twist this her way, she could save her wage and move out on her own in a year or so, teachers may not earn a lot but she could still get there, just a slight delay from her original plan. 

 

The boots stopped half a metre away, “Look at me Jen,” the softness in her aunt’s voice was not what she’d been expecting, she steadily raised her gaze to meet the aunt’s and saw the glee that was radiating from her. Jenny’s stomach churned with anticipation, she was usually good at predicting the patterns of behaviour but this was new. 

 

“Now, I believe congratulations are in order. You have secured your first teaching position after all.” Agatha clapped Jenny on the back, turned on her heel and walked towards the sitting room beckoning for Jenny to follow. The young woman hurried after in bewilderment, was she going to be punished or was her aunt going soft? 

 

Agatha took a seat on the sofa closest to the fireplace and gestured for the young woman to sit opposite. Jenny stole a momentary glance at the old wardrobe that still stood in the corner of the room, only now it had nails jutting inwards that had been hammered in after a particularly heated row had broken out between them. 

 

Once they were both seated Agatha reached to the trolley beside her and poured two glasses of sherry, “Here, girl”, she passed a glass to Jenny and raised her own, “a toast to new beginnings”, she took a sip and waited for the girl to do the same. 

 

Jenny obliged but cautiously, what was the catch, how was her aunt tricking her? 

 

“Now, Jen, you have a job, a privilege you once again owe to me,” she took another sip of sherry, “haven’t I been so good to you girl?” 

 

“Haven’t I?” she said firmer than before when she noted no sign from her ward to respond.

 

“Yes, Aunt Agatha, thank you” Jenny quickly muttered.

 

“Good, good. Now let's get down to business shall we, then we can enjoy tonight.” She downed the rest of her drink and glared at Jenny until she did the same, smirking as the girl tried to hide the effort behind the motion. “Right, let us go to my office and get the papers.”

 

The papers? Jenny thought, what could her aunt mean? She could feel the alcohol burning her throat, why did people drink this stuff? Questions swirled around inside her as she trailed behind her aunt up the stairs to what used to be her father’s office, a room she had never been allowed to enter after his death, a room where her aunt often retreated for hours on end. Curiosity guided her onwards and into the dimly lit space. Nothing was as she remembered. The walls once lined with book laden shelves were covered in framed newspaper clippings from various olympic reports and a heavy looking dark wood desk sat pushed against one wall and was covered in many folders and loose sheets of paper, organisation clearly was not her aunt’s strong point. She shuddered to think what state the house would descend into if she stopped doing the basic chores. 

 

“Here we go”, Agatha had been rifling through a large black folder and now held a wad of paper, roughly stapled together. “Sit.” she pointed towards the leather chair in front of the desk and Jenny obeyed as a pen was placed in her hand. “This here”, her aunt patted the large folder from which the papers had come, “is a fully itemised list of all you owe me.” The older woman looked on as realisation hit her ward. 

 

Jenny’s confusion was written all over her face. “Owe you? Aunt Agatha, I don’t understand”.

 

“Of course you don’t, you were never that bright, were you”, she was soaking up every moment, just a few more steps and then her niece would have no escape. “I have spent the past sixteen years looking after you out of my own pocket. Now you have a job and can pay me back. Every penny.” She added meeting Jenny’s eyes. “And I have a contract all drawn up, all you need to do is sign it and I'll take a percentage of your wages until every item is crossed off. It’s that simple.”

 

“But - “

 

“Are you arguing Jen? I always knew you’d remain ungrateful, what would your father think of this behaviour? He was wonderfully thankful for everything, he understood how to respect his elders. When you put him into an early grave he was kind enough to leave me his house, but here his daughter sits in the very room where he signed those papers refusing me the same respect.” Agatha tutted and shook her head as she placed two hands on the top of the chair, spinning it so Jenny was facing the desk. Jenny’s tears just kept from falling by furious blinking as she caught her aunt staring at her, far too close for comfort. “Now are you going to listen to me and sign this document? Or are you going to let your father down? Hmm…” 

 

Jenny lifted a hand to take the contract from her aunt’s hand. The young woman remained silent as she pushed away memories of her father, she wouldn’t let him down. After all, she could still save something her aunt only wanted a percentage each month so maybe she could still get enough to move out whilst paying back her aunt. Freedom just had a higher cost than she first imagined.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Notes:

Sorry it is a short one, part 2 will be up soon now that I have no uni left!

Chapter 3, Part 1 -

 

Let me for your own good tell you something about Miss Trunchbull. She insists upon strict discipline throughout the school, and if you take my advice you will do your very best to behave yourselves in her presence. Never argue with her. Never answer her back. Always do as she says. If you get on the wrong side of Miss Trunchbull she can liquidize you like a carrot in a blender. All of you will be very wise to remember that Miss Trunchbull deals very very severely with anyone who gets out of line in this school.

 

The next few weeks passed by in a blur of insults and beatings. The burn above Jenny’s right eye had begun to fade - it had been a week since a pot of scalding stew had been thrown at her after dinner had been deemed ‘unfit for a dog’. The young girl was at a loss as to why but as was always the case when dealing with her aunt she didn’t question the accusation but simply cowed, apologised and accepted her punishment. 

 

Towards the end of summer her aunt began spending more and more time secluded in her office working on the back to school admin and preparing for the staff briefing that was to happen a couple days prior to the start of term. Although it meant working with her aunt as her boss, Jenny was very much looking forward to what September would bring. During her childhood school had been the shining light that kept her going throughout the summer months which were spent solely with her aunt and without teachers and pupils soaking up some of her rage it was all let out on the young girl. Jenny shivered and shifted her focus to tomorrow and the first time she’d be able to step into her classroom and make it her own, there was no use dwelling on the past, not when there was a class of new and exciting futures in her hands. The night before the staff briefing Jenny slept peacefully excited for what was to come.

 

*****

Jenny was ripped from her dreams as she bolted upright, water running into her face from her soaked hair, startled to find herself eye to eye with her aunt, a sinister grin slapped on her face and an empty bucket in her hand. 

 

“Go dry off and get dressed, we have a big day ahead of us, you cannot just lay in bed all morning - not now you have a job to get ready for.”

 

“But Aunt Aga-” Jenny cut herself short as her Aunt glared down at her, the word ‘but’ did not exist in this house.

 

“You need to be up early as you will be walking to the school this morning, I can’t have us arriving at the same time, people will think I’m giving you special treatment because of our…relation to one another and I still need the respect of my staff.”

 

Jenny would’ve laughed if she wasn’t shivering so much, in what world would her fellow teachers deem the way her aunt treated her as ‘special’. But at least she would be spared the humiliation of everyone knowing who her aunt was, unless, by some miracle some staff were still there from her own school years. It wasn’t that any of them were particularly close to retirement but more that Crunchem Hall had a very high turnover rate. 

 

“Yes, Aunt Agatha. I shall get ready and leave once I've packed up your lunch, I shall see you at school.” She swung her legs out from under the soaked covers, making a mental note to strip her bed after getting dressed. But before she could stand her aunt placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

 

“Jen, Jen, Jen.” her Aunt’s soft voice left hot breath on her cheek as she invaded her niece’s personal space, “There are a couple more rules we must discuss. In addition to not arriving with me, is there anything else you can think of that needs to change when we are at school?” The question hung in the air as she waited expectantly for Jenny to answer her but the young woman just stared blankly at her aunt trying to work out which instruction to follow. Seeing this Agatha continued, “When we are at school you will address me with the appropriate title of Headmistress or Miss Trunchbull, do you understand child?”

 

“Yes, ma’am”, Jenny nodded.

 

“Good, now I take it I can leave you to get ready and make your own way to school,” Jenny once again nodded. “I shall see you there.” And with that her aunt turned and walked out of the door.

 

 

 

****

Jenny sat eyes lowered to the burgundy carpet which lined the staff room floor. She’d only ever been in this room once before, her aunt was very strict both at home and in school when it came to where children were allowed to be. The young woman shuddered at the memory of sitting here waiting for her aunt after Mr Micheals had given her a detention. Then she pushed the memory aside, school may have been terrifying and anxiety inducing but it was also one of the rare places which held happy memories for her too. Maybe working here would be a good opportunity to seek out more positive experiences. Her mind wandered as she sat and reflected upon her own time at Crunchem hall, she hadn’t had many friends when she started and as soon as the other children worked out that not only was she related to the formidable headmistress but she also lived with her, they quickly found other people to talk to. She didn’t mind too much, it meant she could sit and read in peace and learn uninterrupted as no one would be passing her notes or giggling in her ear. That was until Jean joined.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Notes:

Just a short Chapter to kick things back off! - The next 4 are written and will be edited shortly...

Let me for your own good tell you something about Miss Trunchbull. She insists upon strict discipline throughout the school, and if you take my advice you will do your very best to behave yourselves in her presence. Never argue with her. Never answer her back. Always do as she says. If you get on the wrong side of Miss Trunchbull she can liquidize you like a carrot in a blender. All of you will be very wise to remember that Miss Trunchbull deals very very severely with anyone who gets out of line in this school.

 

Jenny sat eyes lowered to the burgundy carpet which lined the staff room floor. She’d only ever been in this room once before, her aunt was very strict both at home and in school when it came to where children were allowed to be. The young woman shuddered at the memory of sitting here waiting for her aunt after Mr Micheals had given her a detention. Then she pushed the memory aside, school may have been terrifying and anxiety inducing but it was also one of the rare places which held happy memories for her too. Maybe working here would be a good opportunity to seek out more positive experiences. Her mind wandered as she sat and reflected upon her own time at Crunchem hall, she hadn’t had many friends when she started and as soon as the other children worked out that not only was she related to the formidable headmistress but she also lived with her, they quickly found other people to talk to. She didn’t mind too much, it meant she could sit and read in peace and learn uninterrupted as no one would be passing her notes or giggling in her ear. That was until Jean joined.

 

***

The sound of the classroom door creaking open mid-quiz made Jenny’s pencil pause halfway through a multiplication problem. Mr Michaels’ hand hovered over his stack of maths papers. All heads turned. A girl with long curly hair and a blazer slung half off one shoulder stood in the doorway, a backpack dangling from one arm. Her tie was too loose, shirt untucked, and there was a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth like she’d already read the punchline to some joke no one else knew yet. 

Mr Michaels looked up from his desk and cleared his throat. “Everyone, eyes on your own work.”

But it was too late. Every head in the classroom had turned.

“This,” Mr Michaels said, rising slowly, “is Jean Phelps. She’s just transferred to Crunchem Hall. Please make her feel welcome.”

Jean didn’t wait for an invitation. She strolled into the room and looked around at the neat rows of pairs. Her eyes landed on the empty seat beside Jenny, and for a moment, Jenny felt the blood rush to her ears.

No one ever sat beside her.  People tended to clump with their friends. And no one was friends with Jenny Honey. Jenny looked down at her desk, hoping she might be ignored.

Jean flopped into the seat next to her with a grin, letting her bag fall to the floor with a soft thud . She leaned back, arms crossed behind her head, and raised an eyebrow at the board.

She tilted her head towards Mr Michaels. “So, is this quiz optional, or just your way of seeing if anyone had a fun summer?”

A ripple of muffled laughter moved through the room.

Mr Michaels blinked. “It’s mandatory.”

Jean winked. “Just checking.”

Jenny didn’t dare look at her. She kept her eyes on her paper, but her hand had gone clammy and the numbers were starting to swim. She could feel Jean’s energy crackling beside her like static — sharp, warm, impossible to ignore. Jean’s presence beside her felt like trying to read with a firework lit nearby.

***

At break, Jenny took refuge beneath the gnarled ash tree at the edge of the playground. It was her usual spot — a little worn patch of grass just out of bounds from footballs and gossip. She pulled her copy of To Kill a Mockingbird from her satchel and opened it to the dog-eared page where she'd left off. The words settled her, wrapped her in something familiar. Safe.

Then a shadow crossed the page.

Jenny looked up, heart lurching, to see Jean standing over her with a half-eaten apple in one hand and a crooked smile on her face.

“Is that Mockingbird?” she asked, dropping down beside her without waiting for an answer. “Scout’s the best, isn’t she? Like, completely fearless.”

Jenny blinked. “You’ve read it?”

“Course I have. Twice.” Jean leaned back on her elbows, looking up through the branches overhead. “Once for school. Once because I wanted to. You remind me a bit of her, you know. All serious and smart.”

Jenny didn’t know what to say. She’d never been compared to a fictional character before. Not in a nice way.

“I…Scout’s my favourite, too,” she said. “I like how she sees things. Straight through people. No fuss.”

Jean grinned. “Exactly. That’s what I want to be like. Someone who says what they think and don’t let the world flatten them.”

Jenny glanced sideways at her. “You’re not scared of saying things.”

Jean shrugged. “Should I be?”

Jenny hesitated. “It’s just… this place. The headmistress doesn’t like when people talk back. Or speak up. She likes…” Jenny dropped her voice and looked down, “...obedience.”

Jean snorted and bit into her apple. “What’s she going to do? Give me detention for having thoughts?”

Jenny’s eyes darted to the looming figure watching from the building across the courtyard. Miss Trunchbull stood like a statue in the shadows, arms folded, eyes locked on them. Her stare made Jenny’s spine stiffen.

“I’m serious,” she whispered. “You should be careful. She sees everything. And she never forgets.”

Jean followed her gaze, then raised her eyebrows. “Is she always that charming?”

Jenny nodded slowly. “She’s... dangerous.”

Jean turned back to Jenny, her face unreadable for a second. Then she smiled again, not her usual smirk, but something softer. “Well, lucky for you, I’m not scared of a big angry lady in a bad suit.”

Jenny smiled in spite of herself. It wasn’t big, but it was real.

***

Dinner that night was silent apart from the scrape of fork on china and the occasional grunt from Miss Trunchbull.

Jenny kept her eyes on her plate, counting each bite. Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six- 

“That new girl.” Her aunt’s voice sliced through the quiet. “I saw you speaking to her.”

Jenny’s fingers tightened around her fork.

“She’s the sort who stirs up trouble just by breathing. Loud. Disrespectful. You’d be wise to stay away from her. You know what happens to children who forget their place.”

Jenny nodded. “Yes, Aunt Trunchbull.”

But as she lay in bed later, she turned pages faster than usual, her bedside lamp casting shadows across the worn paperback. Scout was talking to Dill, and she couldn’t help but imagine Jean’s voice in Scout’s. Brave. Honest. Laughing in the face of someone twice her size and ten times meaner.

Jenny turned the page. Just one more chapter.

Maybe tomorrow Jean would ask her about it.

And maybe Jenny would answer.

***

The next day, Jenny woke up early. She always did, but today felt different. Her book lay on her pillow, her finger tucked inside the pages when she fell asleep. She hadn’t meant to read so late, but she’d finished another three chapters, just in case Jean asked.

She walked to school with her bag slung carefully over one shoulder, her book nestled safely inside, the way one might carry a fragile treasure. Her feet moved on their own, but her mind was still with Scout, with Atticus, with a tree full of strange gifts and a girl who asked too many questions. Jean reminded her of Scout, the way she said what she thought, the way she didn't seem to care what people expected of her.

Jenny wished she could be like that.

By the time she reached the classroom, the bell hadn't rung yet, and only a few pupils were scattered across their desks. She slid quietly into her seat, pulled out her pencil case, and laid out her things just so. Then she opened her book and tried to focus, though her eyes kept flicking to the door.

She didn’t have to wait long.

Jean came in just as the second bell rang, late, again. She was laughing softly to herself and her shirt was half-untucked, but she didn’t seem to mind. She plopped into the chair beside Jenny like she belonged there, pulling out a half-broken pencil and tapping it on the desk.

“Morning,” she said.

Jenny smiled without meaning to. “Good morning.”

Mr Michaels began the lesson with a sigh and a raised eyebrow. “Jean, do try not to be late.”

“I’ll try,” Jean replied, but there was a twinkle in her eye, like she already knew she wouldn’t.

They were working on long division, which Jenny usually liked, but today she found her attention drifting. Jean muttered under her breath while she worked, sometimes making faces at her sums like they’d personally offended her. When she got something right, she whispered, “Yes!” and punched the air, even though Mr Michaels told them twice to stay quiet.

At one point, she leaned over and whispered, “This is mind-melting. You got number four?”

Jenny hesitated, pencil in midair. She wasn’t supposed to share answers. But Jean was looking at her with such confidence, like they were already teammates. Jenny shook her head. “I haven’t finished it yet.”

Jean grinned. “Race you, then.”

Jenny flushed, but she nodded, and for the first time in a long while, maths didn’t feel so lonely.

***

At breaktime, Jenny slipped out of the classroom quickly and made her way to the back field, behind the shed where it was quieter. She settled down on the grass with To Kill a Mockingbird and opened to her folded corner. 

Then the footsteps came again.

Jenny glanced up and there she was, with a stick in one hand and a sandwich in the other, looking around like she was casing the place.

“Found you,” Jean said, dropping onto the grass beside her. “I thought you might be hiding.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” Jenny said quietly.

Jean took a bite of her sandwich and looked over at the book. “You’re still reading it, huh? Scout got to school yet?”

Jenny nodded. “She doesn’t like it. Her teacher tells her off for knowing how to read.”

Jean snorted. “Stupid teacher. What, she wanted her to be dumber?”

Jenny gave a quiet smile. “That’s what Atticus says. That people don’t always understand what they’re scared of.”

Jean plucked at a piece of grass. “I think I’d like Atticus. Wish I had a dad like that.”

Jenny didn’t say anything. She had had a Dad like that, but not anymore. Now there was just Aunt Agatha.

Jean leaned back, chewing and smirked at her.

Jenny felt warmth crawl up her neck, was it embarrassment?

“People don’t usually talk to me at break,” she said.

“Well, that’s dumb,” Jean replied easily. “You’re interesting.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Jenny spotted a shadow moving near the building. She turned her head just slightly and there, standing near the staff entrance, was Miss Trunchbull. Arms folded. Watching them once more.

Jenny snapped her book shut. “We should stop talking.”

“Why?”

Jenny stayed quiet and Jean followed her gaze

Jean frowned. “What, are we doing something wrong?”

Jenny stood up and brushed off her skirt. “No. But that doesn’t matter.”

Jean followed her up, still chewing thoughtfully. “She really scares you, doesn’t she?”

Jenny nodded.

Jean looked back toward the building. “She shouldn’t.”

But Jenny wasn’t brave enough to agree.