playroom and another up on the landing.’
‘What the actual fuck,’ Jake says, taking the words from my mouth. So this is what Ashley was up to. The words are printed carefully in black marker:
Church open!
Last room on the second floor
next to the nurses’ quarters.
Service every night at 7.30.
All welcome!
Surrounding the precise writing are childish drawings of angels and crosses, and a small piece of paper has been tacked to the bottom:
Tonight we’ll pray for Ellory.
‘Jesus Christ,’ I say, and Louis immediately snorts with laughter at my unintentional irony.
‘Maybe this will stop him praying in our room, at least,’ Tom says.
He has a point. But still, I can see Jake’s sneer and I hate Ashley and his smug piety all over again. Joe says nothing. His eyes are fixed on the small bit of paper at the bottom.
‘Let’s go and look,’ Will says, always curious. For a moment, all our divisions are forgotten and we climb the stairs. The girls have said nothing but they follow along anyway as we leave a trail of damp footprints on the wood. What else is there to do?
‘Down here!’ Daniel says, as if we can’t figure it out ourselves. The long corridor is gloomy but light shines out through one doorway. I’ve never come this far in my night-time wanderings – it’s too close to the nurses’ rooms. Ashley’s chosen well. Not even Jake would come here and give him shit. Not when all Ashley would have to do is shout to get some attention.
‘Come in, come in,’ Ashley says as we gather in the doorway. I have no intention of crossing the line, but Harriet and Eleanor squeeze past me and Will and Louis follow them. Instead of beds, twelve chairs are set out in rows of three and there’s a desk at the front that he’s slung a bed sheet over. He’s sweating from carrying the chairs, but he smiles. ‘Everyone’s welcome.’
Some sniggers then, and his smile falls a little and he busies himself with a pile of papers on one of the chairs.
‘You’re a fucking freak,’ Jake says. Daniel laughs. I look behind me and see Clara wandering back down the corridor. I don’t think she likes the church but I don’t think she likes our aggression, either. Maybe after she’s been here a week or so she’ll understand it.
‘What a beautiful window,’ Harriet says, looking up. She’s right, it is. A perfect arch in the centre of the wall.
‘It’s why I wanted this room,’ Ashley says. ‘It’s like a church window.’ He pauses. ‘You could paint it, if you like. Matron won’t mind.’
‘You and Matron all cosy now, are you?’ Jake says. ‘That won’t change anything.’
Ashley says nothing.
‘You’re still Defective,’ Daniel chimes in. ‘You’re just the same as the rest of us.’
‘I know,’ Ashley says.
‘Fuck him,’ I say, suddenly torn. I hate Ashley for this, but he’s one of our dorm. ‘He’s going to be here on his own. Better here than trying to hang out with us.’ I turn to walk away and Tom follows.
‘Yeah, fuck him,’ he repeats, and I know I’m still the boss of Dorm 4. The group melts away from the doorway, each going in their own direction. Will and Louis race off together in search of string for their conkers and I head back to our dorm. Sleep. That’s what I need.
The air is colder tonight, creeping in through the old stone like an invisible mist, and I have my socks on as I wander the house in the dark even though the polished wooden floors can be slippery and the thump of a fall might alert one of the nurses. I’ve stayed in bed longer than usual, wondering if they might come for Joe, but the lift doesn’t rumble like the hungry stomach of the sanatorium and the house is quiet.
I get some bread and butter from the empty kitchen and look through the window at the oak tree – now a hulking spread of black in the moonlight – as I eat it. The ground floor is quiet, the playroom empty, and I wonder if Clara has finally decided
‘What the actual fuck,’ Jake says, taking the words from my mouth. So this is what Ashley was up to. The words are printed carefully in black marker:
Church open!
Last room on the second floor
next to the nurses’ quarters.
Service every night at 7.30.
All welcome!
Surrounding the precise writing are childish drawings of angels and crosses, and a small piece of paper has been tacked to the bottom:
Tonight we’ll pray for Ellory.
‘Jesus Christ,’ I say, and Louis immediately snorts with laughter at my unintentional irony.
‘Maybe this will stop him praying in our room, at least,’ Tom says.
He has a point. But still, I can see Jake’s sneer and I hate Ashley and his smug piety all over again. Joe says nothing. His eyes are fixed on the small bit of paper at the bottom.
‘Let’s go and look,’ Will says, always curious. For a moment, all our divisions are forgotten and we climb the stairs. The girls have said nothing but they follow along anyway as we leave a trail of damp footprints on the wood. What else is there to do?
‘Down here!’ Daniel says, as if we can’t figure it out ourselves. The long corridor is gloomy but light shines out through one doorway. I’ve never come this far in my night-time wanderings – it’s too close to the nurses’ rooms. Ashley’s chosen well. Not even Jake would come here and give him shit. Not when all Ashley would have to do is shout to get some attention.
‘Come in, come in,’ Ashley says as we gather in the doorway. I have no intention of crossing the line, but Harriet and Eleanor squeeze past me and Will and Louis follow them. Instead of beds, twelve chairs are set out in rows of three and there’s a desk at the front that he’s slung a bed sheet over. He’s sweating from carrying the chairs, but he smiles. ‘Everyone’s welcome.’
Some sniggers then, and his smile falls a little and he busies himself with a pile of papers on one of the chairs.
‘You’re a fucking freak,’ Jake says. Daniel laughs. I look behind me and see Clara wandering back down the corridor. I don’t think she likes the church but I don’t think she likes our aggression, either. Maybe after she’s been here a week or so she’ll understand it.
‘What a beautiful window,’ Harriet says, looking up. She’s right, it is. A perfect arch in the centre of the wall.
‘It’s why I wanted this room,’ Ashley says. ‘It’s like a church window.’ He pauses. ‘You could paint it, if you like. Matron won’t mind.’
‘You and Matron all cosy now, are you?’ Jake says. ‘That won’t change anything.’
Ashley says nothing.
‘You’re still Defective,’ Daniel chimes in. ‘You’re just the same as the rest of us.’
‘I know,’ Ashley says.
‘Fuck him,’ I say, suddenly torn. I hate Ashley for this, but he’s one of our dorm. ‘He’s going to be here on his own. Better here than trying to hang out with us.’ I turn to walk away and Tom follows.
‘Yeah, fuck him,’ he repeats, and I know I’m still the boss of Dorm 4. The group melts away from the doorway, each going in their own direction. Will and Louis race off together in search of string for their conkers and I head back to our dorm. Sleep. That’s what I need.
The air is colder tonight, creeping in through the old stone like an invisible mist, and I have my socks on as I wander the house in the dark even though the polished wooden floors can be slippery and the thump of a fall might alert one of the nurses. I’ve stayed in bed longer than usual, wondering if they might come for Joe, but the lift doesn’t rumble like the hungry stomach of the sanatorium and the house is quiet.
I get some bread and butter from the empty kitchen and look through the window at the oak tree – now a hulking spread of black in the moonlight – as I eat it. The ground floor is quiet, the playroom empty, and I wonder if Clara has finally decided
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