Trouble

“You’ve got a tongue in your head” snaps Granny, in a voice that makes Sarah think she doesn’t like her very much. Granny says that Sarah is ‘acting shy’, and it makes her cross. There will be trouble, says Granny, if Sarah is still carrying on like this when her daddy gets home. Sarah’s daddy has been working somewhere far away for a long time now, so that she can have toys and clothes. What will he say, Granny asks, if he comes home to find that Sarah isn’t talking?

Granny says Sarah should be more like her big cousin Mark. When she says this, Mark sits up straight with a big smile on his face. When visitors come, Sarah hides behind the sofa. Mark holds out his hand and tells them he is pleased to meet them. The visitors smile, and say what a well mannered boy he is. Granny is proud. When the visitors have gone, and Granny turns her back, Mark sticks out his tongue and does a silly dance behind her. When she is busy in the kitchen he opens her purse and takes out five pounds. He puts it in the pocket of his jeans. Sarah watches. Mark draws a line across his throat with a pretend knife, showing what will happen to Sarah if she tells, although they both know she won’t.

All day long Granny huffs and puffs, making sure Sarah knows she is in the way. She shouts at her to lift up her feet so that she can bang the vacuum cleaner up against the sofa. She grumbles when one of Sarah’s crayons drops off the table and gets trodden into the carpet. Granny’s friend Elsie telephones. She wants Granny to go to Bingo.
‘I’m lumbered with Noddy’ Granny tells Elsie, giving Sarah another of her looks.

When Granny is cross she likes to be busy. She climbs on a chair to clean the windows, then gets down on her hands and knees to scrub the kitchen floor. When Sarah’s mum arrives to collect her, Granny waits for a while before she answers the door. She holds her back and groans. She has hardly moved from her chair all day, she says. She is too old for this. She can’t have Sarah tomorrow. Sarah wishes someone would tell Granny off for acting old.

Sometimes, in her own room, Sarah talks to her animals, just to make sure that her voice is still there. Her toys look kindly back at her. They never laugh, or call her cruel names, or tell her to speak up. This is the only place she feels safe now. At school, at Granny’s, even in the rest of her own house, the sound of her own voice scares her. She is afraid of what words can do when they escape.

At school, there is a different teacher who doesn’t know about Sarah. When she reaches Sarah’s name in the register, everyone turns to stare. Some people nudge each other and giggle.
‘She doesn’t talk’ Megan says. The teacher looks as though she wants to say something not very nice, but she just sighs and reads out the next name.

They go to their tables to start their work. Megan, who never listens, has no idea what she has to do. She watches clever Libby, then copies what she has written. Libby covers her work with her arm and rests her head on it, turning her back on Megan. Megan slides her hand under the table and pinches the skin just above Libby’s knee. She carries on pinching until Libby sits up and moves her arm. Megan copies some more. Only Sarah sees.

The teacher comes over to their table. Libby and Megan have all the answers right. Libby has pressed too hard with her pencil. Her numbers are too big for the boxes, and there is a hole in her page where she has rubbed something out. Megan’s numbers are small and neat. The teacher sticks a gold star on her work. Megan is the star of the morning she says. Libby looks as though she wants to cry. Megan and the teacher smile.

In the afternoon, the teacher is not so smiley. She tells everyone not to make so much noise, and when she stands up she almost falls over. She says they can all go and play. Then she goes into the stockroom, and doesn’t quite close the door. Sarah watches as she searches in her handbag, then takes out a bottle and drinks from it. After a few minutes the teacher comes out, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She notices Sarah, and puts her finger to her lips. She winks, and giggles to herself like a little girl.

After school, there is a meeting about Sarah. She has to sit outside in the corridor while Mrs Halliday, who is a special kind of teacher, and another lady who made Sarah do a lot of tests, talk to Mum. Sarah has a box of Lego to play with, but instead she peeps through the glass in the classroom door. Mrs Halliday and the other lady have grown up chairs, but Mum has to sit on one of the tiny chairs that the children use. She hugs her knees, which are almost touching her chin. She looks like a little girl in trouble.

The cleaning lady comes with her giant sweeping brush. She sweeps up all the bits and pieces that are left over from the day. Some children have dropped apple cores and there are bit of sandwiches and sausage rolls that have fallen out of lunch boxes. The cleaning lady makes a tutting noise to herself as they all get swept into a heap. There are things in the heap that are not really rubbish – pieces from games and jigsaw puzzles and a hair slide that looks like a ladybird, which makes Sarah feel sad. She imagines a little girl feeling for it in her hair, realizing it has gone, and never seeing it again. The cleaning lady doesn’t care. Her dustpan swallows everything. She looks at Sarah as though she would like to sweep her up too. Sarah pretends to be busy with her Lego.

Someone has left a coat on one of the pegs. It looks like a new coat – pink with fur around the hood. The cleaning lady looks at Sarah, points at the coat, and asks if she knows who it belongs to. Sarah’s heart starts to thump and her cheeks feel hot. She stares down at her Lego again.
‘Hey Dumbo, I’m talking to you’ snarls the cleaning lady. Sarah is trembling now. She shrugs her shoulders. The cleaning lady sighs and mutters something that Sarah doesn’t quite hear. Then she looks round, as though she is checking that no-one else is watching. She pulls a plastic bag out of her pocket and stuffs the coat into it. Before she goes she looks at Sarah again, and makes a zipping motion across her lips.

In the classroom, Mum is still being told off. She winds her hair round and round her finger. She keeps nodding and shaking her head while Mrs Halliday and the other lady show her charts and bits of paper. Sarah feels bad about having got Mum into trouble. She wishes her words would just come out like the other children’s.

Mr Walsh, the Head Teacher, comes striding down the corridor. He stops outside Sarah’s classroom and peers through the glass, but he doesn’t go in. Sarah doesn’t like Mr Walsh, because he always tries to trick her into talking. He stops looking into the classroom, turns round and steps back in pretend astonishment, as if he is noticing Sarah for the first time.

‘Well I never, it’s Polly!’ he says. Sarah presses another brick into her Lego wall. Mr Walsh comes closer, bending over until his nose is almost touching the top of her head. He takes another brick from the box and clicks it into place. He straightens up and rubs his chin, frowning.
‘Or is it Betty?’ he says. Sarah doesn’t even bother to look at him. Little girls are never called Betty.

Mr Walsh is starting to get annoyed now, because Sarah hasn’t told him her proper name, which of course he knows already. He is still smiling when he asks if her name is Esmeralda, but his voice is too loud, and he is tapping his fingers on the back of her chair, the way Mum taps when she’s in a hurry and Sarah is too slow to get ready. Sarah presses her lips together and shakes her head, but she doesn’t look up.

Something is happening in the classroom. Sarah hears the chairs scraping back as everyone stands up. Mrs Halliday brings Mum over to the door. She puts her hand on Mum’s shoulder and gives a little smile. Mum’s face is very pink. Without looking at Sarah she tells her to fasten her coat and pick up her lunch box. She holds Sarah’s hand tightly and pulls her towards the door. Mr Walsh follows them.

When they reach the door, Mr Walsh steps in front of them, so they can’t get out. It is raining hard he says, and they will get soaked. He will give them a lift home. Mum says nothing. She just looks at Mr Walsh and gives a little nod.

Sarah and Mum wait for Mr Walsh to get his coat and car keys. He brings an enormous umbrella, like the one Sarah’s daddy takes when he goes fishing. They all squeeze together underneath it as they run to the car.

Mum holds onto the umbrella while Mr Walsh straps Sarah into the special children’s seat in the back of the car. He must have a little boy or girl of his own. Mum gets in the front seat, next to Mr Walsh. Nobody speaks for the whole of the journey. Mum wraps her arms tightly round her handbag and stares straight ahead.

Mr Walsh knows where their house is without being told. When he stops outside, Mum doesn’t get out, even though the rain has stopped. Mr Walsh turns off the engine. He turns to look at Mum, who doesn’t look back. Sarah can hear them both breathing. After a while, Mr Walsh puts his hand on Mum’s knee. Mum picks it up as though it is a cold, wet fish, and throws it back at him. She jerks her head towards Sarah. Mr Walsh gives a funny laugh, and tells her there is no need to worry. He puts his hand back, and this time Mum leaves it there.

They sit and sit. Mum rummages in her handbag for an old, scrunched up tissue, and blows her nose, hard. Her shoulders are shaking. Mr Walsh raises his hand and gently strokes her cheek with his finger. He makes a shushing sound, even though Mum isn’t making a noise. He brushes her hair away from her face.

Sarah’s head feels full of words, fighting to escape and make things happen. She knows that one day, very soon, she will have to let them out. She imagines hundreds and hundreds of words all pouring out at once and spoiling the silence. When that happens, she thinks, nobody’s secret will be safe. Then there’ll be trouble.