are selected from each year group, usually five boys and five girls. The way they’re chosen is strictly on merit marks – which I didn’t happen to have any of. Well, I think I’d picked up about four in the whole of my first year. Hattie, needless to say, got them by the bucket load. Mainly academic ones, since Hattie just happens to have this mega-size brain. Tanya Hoskins has a brain of more ordinary proportions, but she is one of those irritating people who applies herself. (A term much favoured by teachers, at our school at any rate. I always got end-of-term reports saying that I did not apply myself.)
“So how do you think you’re going to do it?” said Hattie. She is always very down to earth. Not to mention blunt.
I said hopefully, “I could try mending my ways.”
“Well, you could,” said Hattie. “But there’s an awful lot of them to mend!”
I begged her not to be so negative. “You’re supposed to be helping me!”
“Why?” said Hattie.
“Because you’re my friend! And we do things together. How could you possibly go without me?”
“What makes you think I will be going?” said Hattie.
I told her that she was bound to be selected. “You and Tanya; you’ll both be selected. You know you will!”
“I don’t know anything,” said Hattie. “And if you want to go as badly as all that, why not wait for one of the boys to invite you? Cos you know that they will!”
She meant one of the boys who got selected. I said, “I want to be the one to do the inviting! Plus there isn’t a single solitary boy that I’d want to go with. Not in our year, at any rate.”
“So who would you invite?”
I said, “I don’t know! I’ll think about that later. What’s important is being selected. And that’s what I need your help for!”
“Don’t see what I’m s’pposed to do,” said Hattie; but she agreed, in the end, to give me the benefit of her advice. “Provided you listen.”
“I will, I will!” I said. “Look at me … I’m listening!”
“Right, then,” said Hattie. “Let’s get started. Let’s make a list!”
I said, “List of what?”
“All those areas where you need to improve! Get a pen. Write it down!”
Meekly, I did so. “Improvements”, I wrote.
No.1 Work
No.2 Behaviour
No.3 Attitude
No.4 Punctuality
No.5 Team spirit.
Somewhat daunting, I think you will agree!
“Let’s take them one by one,” said Hattie. She has this very orderly sort of mind. “Work. If you just started to do some, it would help.”
“I will,” I said, earnestly.
“You’ve got a brain,” said Hattie, “why not use it?”
I told her that she sounded like my mum.
“I’m going to act like your mum,” said Hattie. “I’m going to tell you what to do and you’re going to do it … cos if you don’t, then that is it. I shall wash my hands of you.”
“Oh, no, please,” I said. “Please, Hattie, don’t!”
“It’s entirely up to you,” said Hattie. “What’s next? Behaviour. Well, that’s easy enough! Just stop getting told off all the time. Attitude— ”
“Yes,” I said, anxiously, “what does that mean?”
“It means co-operating,” said Hattie. “Like, you know … shutting up when you’re told to shut up? Walking down the corridor when you’re told to walk down the corridor? Not barging and yelling and— ”
“I don’t do that!” I said.
Hattie looked at me, rather hard.
“Well, yes, all right,” I said. “I get the message. What about punctuality? I can manage punctuality! At least I can if Dad leaves on time. He doesn’t always leave on time.”
“So go by train,” said Hattie.
The train meant getting up earlier, but I knew if I said that she would just tell me not to be lazy and that “nothing comes without a struggle”. And I really really did want to be selected! I mean, apart from anything else, it was a matter of pride.
Humbly, I said, “What about team spirit? I don’t quite get that one.”
Hattie said that team spirit meant joining things. Volunteering for things. Trying out for netball teams and hockey teams. I stared at her, appalled.
“You don’t do any of that!”
“I’m in the choir,” said Hattie.
I wouldn’t have minded being in the choir. Unfortunately, I can’t sing. Tanya can, of course: very gently and sweetly. She always gets to do the solos when it’s anything holy. Hattie has a voice like a bullhorn. She really belts it out! I would love to have a voice like Hattie’s.
“Look, it doesn’t matter if you don’t get in,” said Hattie. “Just show willing. That’s all you have to do. Then,” she added, kindly, “you might get merit marks for general improvement.”
Doubtfully I said, “Do they count?”
“Of course they count! They’re merit marks, aren’t they?”
I said, “Y – yes, I suppose. But I’d need thousands!”
“So get thousands.”
She made it sound so easy. She told me to “Look at it this way … nobody, but nobody, has as much room for improvement as you. You could get marks for improvement in every single area! Go for it, girl!” I staggered as she biffed me on the shoulder. She packs a hefty punch, does Hattie. “You could wipe the board! So long as you do what I tell you. OK?”
Weakly I said, “OK.”
“OK!” She biffed me again, on the other shoulder. “Get started!”
That very same day I added my name to every single list I could find on the notice board. Under-14 netball, Under-14 hockey. Gym, football, basketball. I didn’t actually make any of the teams, but at least I had shown willing. I just hoped the right people were taking note. I pictured Miss Allen, in the staff room, saying, “Scarlett Maguire is trying so hard this term. She’s not really a sporty type, but my goodness, she’s giving it a go!”
I didn’t try out for swimming cos Tanya is on the swimming team and I didn’t want to look stupid in front of her. I mean, I can just barely manage a length doing the doggy paddle. I did try for the choir (truly squirm-making!) and I also volunteered to paint scenery for the drama club, who fortunately said thank you very much but they didn’t need anyone to paint scenery that term as they were doing a production in the round and there wasn’t any scenery to be painted. After that, Hattie said that I had probably shown enough team spirit for the time being.