herself. ‘Sister, she wees all over the place.’
‘Star!’
‘It’s true, Sister,’ Georgina piped up. ‘Mother says it’s really unhygienic.’
‘I’ve no doubt it would be if it were true, but then so is throwing food all over the canteen. No, I’m afraid sweeping the floor won’t be a suitable penance for this severe wickedness. I’ve decided to assign you a special task.’
We looked at one another and swallowed. This sounded ominous.
Sister Constance went on. ‘I want you to come up with some fund-raising ideas for the Children of the Worldcharity. Last year, the Lower Sixth raised six thousand pounds. We’re aiming to improve on that figure this year.’
We all weren’t quite sure what to say – or what it meant. Even though six thousand pounds wouldn’t even pay for a term’s fees at Saint Augustine’s, I knew it was a lot of money.
My parents are always going on about money. I am always reminding them that I wasn’t the one who came up with the idea of flying across the world to an exorbitantly expensive boarding school – to which they always reply that nothing in life is really free. They say they are more than happy to make sacrifices in order to give me a rounded education, and if that means driving around in a crappy car and forgoing pools and holidays, it’s a small price to pay. Parents have a very odd sense of logic.
Just the same, I realised that six thousand pounds was a drop in the ocean compared to what it would take to help all the suffering children of the world.
‘Here are some brochures to inspire you.’ She pushed across some pamphlets that depicted sad-eyed children clustered around an empty bowl. I suddenly felt miserable and pointless as I scanned their hungry faces.
‘Now, I know it’s too soon for you to be thinking about gap years, but later on this week one of Saint Augustine’s Old Girls will be visiting us and giving a talk at assembly about the wonderful inspirational opportunities that Raleigh International offers to girls like yourselves; opportunities to meet girls and boys from different backgrounds;opportunities to give something back.’
My stomach rumbled really loudly, which was desperately embarrassing given how I’d only missed lunch and these kids were like missing their whole lives, basically.
‘That will be all, ladies,’ said Sister Constance.
‘Thank you, Sister,’ we replied.
‘Star, you will also have the duty of sweeping the Cleathorpes corridor.’
Damn, I thought, I’d forgotten to present my blue and now I’d missed my chance to transmute my lines to floor sweeping.
‘Yes, Sister,’ Star agreed, her eyes downcast – even though I knew she must be whooping it up inside because she didn’t have to do six double sides of lines.
‘I’ll come and see you shortly, to see how you’ve got on.’ (In other words, to bring you your Mars Bar.)
We backed out of her room, heads still bowed, the way we’d been taught to when we first arrived at Saint Augustine’s. Sometimes we did it to other teachers who weren’t nuns, just to wind them up.
‘This is so random,’ Honey complained, once we were out of earshot.
‘I think it could be quite fun,’ Star argued. ‘Doing something worthwhile.’
‘Worthwhile?’ said Honey. ‘Are you insane? Rattling a tin around like a beggar. You are such a plebeian, Star.’
But Star wasn’t backing down – she never does. ‘No, think about it. We could do some really cool things, likehave parties and stuff. I mean, it would be the perfect cover for all sorts of cool outings. And anyway, it would be for a good cause.’
Clementine had to agree, reluctantly. ‘She’s right. We could use it as an excuse to hire a minibus to take us to the Feather’s Ball. We could raffle places on the bus.’ So typical of Clemmie, who was the most boy-mad girl in our year. She rarely spoke unless there were boys around and even then she mostly only ogled and giggled.
‘Whatever,’ Star
‘Star!’
‘It’s true, Sister,’ Georgina piped up. ‘Mother says it’s really unhygienic.’
‘I’ve no doubt it would be if it were true, but then so is throwing food all over the canteen. No, I’m afraid sweeping the floor won’t be a suitable penance for this severe wickedness. I’ve decided to assign you a special task.’
We looked at one another and swallowed. This sounded ominous.
Sister Constance went on. ‘I want you to come up with some fund-raising ideas for the Children of the Worldcharity. Last year, the Lower Sixth raised six thousand pounds. We’re aiming to improve on that figure this year.’
We all weren’t quite sure what to say – or what it meant. Even though six thousand pounds wouldn’t even pay for a term’s fees at Saint Augustine’s, I knew it was a lot of money.
My parents are always going on about money. I am always reminding them that I wasn’t the one who came up with the idea of flying across the world to an exorbitantly expensive boarding school – to which they always reply that nothing in life is really free. They say they are more than happy to make sacrifices in order to give me a rounded education, and if that means driving around in a crappy car and forgoing pools and holidays, it’s a small price to pay. Parents have a very odd sense of logic.
Just the same, I realised that six thousand pounds was a drop in the ocean compared to what it would take to help all the suffering children of the world.
‘Here are some brochures to inspire you.’ She pushed across some pamphlets that depicted sad-eyed children clustered around an empty bowl. I suddenly felt miserable and pointless as I scanned their hungry faces.
‘Now, I know it’s too soon for you to be thinking about gap years, but later on this week one of Saint Augustine’s Old Girls will be visiting us and giving a talk at assembly about the wonderful inspirational opportunities that Raleigh International offers to girls like yourselves; opportunities to meet girls and boys from different backgrounds;opportunities to give something back.’
My stomach rumbled really loudly, which was desperately embarrassing given how I’d only missed lunch and these kids were like missing their whole lives, basically.
‘That will be all, ladies,’ said Sister Constance.
‘Thank you, Sister,’ we replied.
‘Star, you will also have the duty of sweeping the Cleathorpes corridor.’
Damn, I thought, I’d forgotten to present my blue and now I’d missed my chance to transmute my lines to floor sweeping.
‘Yes, Sister,’ Star agreed, her eyes downcast – even though I knew she must be whooping it up inside because she didn’t have to do six double sides of lines.
‘I’ll come and see you shortly, to see how you’ve got on.’ (In other words, to bring you your Mars Bar.)
We backed out of her room, heads still bowed, the way we’d been taught to when we first arrived at Saint Augustine’s. Sometimes we did it to other teachers who weren’t nuns, just to wind them up.
‘This is so random,’ Honey complained, once we were out of earshot.
‘I think it could be quite fun,’ Star argued. ‘Doing something worthwhile.’
‘Worthwhile?’ said Honey. ‘Are you insane? Rattling a tin around like a beggar. You are such a plebeian, Star.’
But Star wasn’t backing down – she never does. ‘No, think about it. We could do some really cool things, likehave parties and stuff. I mean, it would be the perfect cover for all sorts of cool outings. And anyway, it would be for a good cause.’
Clementine had to agree, reluctantly. ‘She’s right. We could use it as an excuse to hire a minibus to take us to the Feather’s Ball. We could raffle places on the bus.’ So typical of Clemmie, who was the most boy-mad girl in our year. She rarely spoke unless there were boys around and even then she mostly only ogled and giggled.
‘Whatever,’ Star
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