LITMIR.BIZ

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me was that Winterbourne High was just about as far as you could possibly get from somewhere like Summerfield. Nobody would know me. Nobody would know my family. I could just be me.

      “It’s only down the road,” I pleaded. “I could walk there!”

      “But why would you want to?” said Dad. He seemed genuinely puzzled. Why would anyone in their right senses choose Winterbourne High over Summerfield? “Give me one good reason!”

      “You wouldn’t have to pay for me?” I suggested.

      Dad gave an angry roar. “Don’t you try pulling that one, my girl! There’s a little thing called equality in this house, yes? If we pay for the others, we pay for you. You’ll have to come up with something a bit better than that!”

      “I like the uniform?” I said.

      “Darling, it’s grey,” said Mum. Summerfield’s is bright red. Far more to Mum’s taste.

      I said, “I like grey.”

      “Nonsense!” said Mum.

      “Rubbish!” said Dad.

      “It wouldn’t suit you at all,” said Mum. “You need a bit of colour. Something bright. Put you in grey, you’d just fade into the background.”

      “Not,” said Dad, “that one chooses a school by its uniform.”

      “Well, no, of course. Absolutely not! But I don’t think it helps if it makes one look a total fright. And you know, darling, you do need all the help you can get. You don’t want to fade. How about Sacred Heart? That’s a nice school!”

      “They wear kilts,” I said.

      “I know. So sweet! That blue would really suit you. Bring out the colour of your eyes. Of course – ” a note of doubt crept into Mum’s voice – “it is all girls. I’m never too sure about that. On the other hand, you do have brothers, so maybe it wouldn’t matter too much.” Mum turned enthusiastically to Dad. “Do you know, I really think Sacred Heart would be a good choice!”

      “Bring out the colour of her eyes,” said Dad sarcastically.

      “Oh, don’t be silly! That’s neither here nor there,” said Mum. “I was just thinking how it was exactly the sort of school that would suit her… small classes, no pressure… no one to compete with. And all those lovely nuns! Let’s check out their website.”

      It seemed that my fate was sealed.

      “We are assuming,” said Dad, “that they can take her.”

      “Oh, I’m sure they will,” said Mum.

      Mum is always sure about everything, and it has to be said, she is usually right. She has this gift of bending people to her will.

      “Just leave it to me,” she said.

      She broke the news to the others later that day when we all went up the road for Sunday lunch.

      “Everybody! A little bit of hush,” she said. “Hot news!”

      “About what?” said Coop. “Dad’s won another radio award?”

      “I wish!” said Dad.

      “Right,” said Charlie, “cos you’ve only got about a dozen of them.”

      “Can’t have too many.”

      “Will you please HUSH?” said Mum. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

      “Ooh!” Coop gave a little shiver. “Sounds important!”

      “Not desperately,” said Dad. “It’s just Peachy.”

      Dad was still quite cross. And nobody else cared all that much. There wasn’t any reason they should. Like Dad said, it wasn’t really important. Not like Dad getting a radio award, or Charlie getting a lead in the school play. Just Peachy, being silly and awkward.

      Mum patted my hand. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Your dad will get over it. And I do actually think you’ll be far better off on your own. There won’t be all that stress of trying to keep up; you can just quietly concentrate on doing your own thing. I’m so glad I thought of it!”

      “…just a bit insecure, which isn’t really surprising, I suppose, when you come to think about it.”

      The voice was Mum’s. She was speaking to someone on the phone. Who? I wondered. And who was she talking about?

      “The others are doing almost frighteningly well.”

      I froze, in the hall on the other side of the door. I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but I couldn’t help hearing. Mum’s voice is very clear and penetrating.

      “All that high-flying. Enough to make anyone insecure.” She gave a little tinkle of laughter. “Even me!”

      Who? Who? Who was she talking about? I hovered guiltily, unable to tear myself away.

      “I don’t think I’d say she was jealous,” said Mum. “A bit envious perhaps – which is only to be expected. More a sense of… not being able to compete? Which you can perfectly understand. It all just comes so easily to the rest of them.”

      She was talking about me. I knew she was. But who was she talking to?

      “Oh, yes, much better,” said Mum. “Far happier now she’s at Sacred Heart. I always felt that Summerfield wouldn’t be quite right for her. An excellent school – the others just love it – but—” Mum broke off as I pushed open the door. “Ah, Peachy!” she said. “Do you want a word with Big Gran?”

      Big Gran is Dad’s mum. She is quite a large person, like Dad, but unlike Dad she is not a bully. Dad is known for being a bully. He was once called the rudest man on the radio. Big Gran is quite sweet. She has always tried really hard to make me feel good about myself. Sometimes she tries a bit too hard, and then it is embarrassing. But I know she means well.

      I said, “Hi, Gran.”

      Gran said, “Hello, sweetheart! I’m so glad to hear you’re getting on all right at your new school. It’s a pity about Summerfield, but don’t let it bother you. I mean, your dad being upset and all that. He’ll get over it. What’s important is that you should never be made to feel you have to do things simply because your brothers and sisters do them. You just concentrate on being your own person.”

      It was what Gran was always telling me to do. I promised her that I was concentrating like mad.

      “Good,” said Gran. “That’s good. Always remember that simply because something’s right for the others doesn’t necessarily mean it’s right for you. You mustn’t let yourself be put under any pressure.”

      I assured her that I wouldn’t.

      “Well, I certainly hope not,” said Gran. “It’s not as if you’re in competition. I know it can be difficult at times. I’ve been there! I’ll never forget the day your dad’s Auntie Esther got into the Royal Ballet School.”

      Auntie Esther is Gran’s sister. She was a famous ballet dancer in her time.

      “Oh, such a to-do!” said Gran. “Big, big celebration! WELL DONE, ESTHER! Huge great banner, special cake in the shape of a ballet shoe, all over the local paper, called up on stage in morning assembly… Oh, dear, I was so jealous I can’t tell you! Not that I had any ambitions in that direction. At my size?” Gran laughed. A rich, fruity laugh like Dad’s. “Forget it! But I wouldn’t have minded some of the attention, I don’t mind admitting. It was a bit of a rough time. Dear little Esther, so dainty and talented, and great lumping Elinor who couldn’t even walk into a room

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