The winner of our current Short Story Competition is published in the Sept|Oct issue of Irish Country Magazine. This story came in second place and was written by Maeve Gantly.
“Charlie! Get up to that school and get that uniform jumper. I promised your auntie that Leo could have it come September!” Ma roared up the stairs.
Charlie rolled over in her bed and sighed with a big heave from her chest.
“Ah, Ma! It’s the last days of summer, there’ll be no one up there,” she tried. She had mixed feelings about returning to the place where she had lived out her entire childhood.
Charlie had missed her sixth-class graduation. Ma had got a last-minute deal on a trip to Salou for the last week in June. Deep down, Charlie had been glad she didn’t have to participate, that she had been able to avoid it altogether.
She wasn’t like the other girls in her class, had always felt that people were different around her. Mia, Isla and the rest of class always had great banter, they could have fun with teachers and just about cross that line into cheekiness. Charlie was awkward. She didn’t want to stand on a stage and pretend she was happy to leave this part of her behind. She didn’t want to be nostalgic and watch as her classmates and teachers become emotional. She didn’t want to watch as Mia gave her teacher one of those “side hugs”. It was something Charlie could never dream of doing, she’d be scarlet. She couldn’t bear to hear all the familiar and overused platitudes, “Have a great summer!” “Stay in touch!” and all the rest. She hadn’t hung out with any of them over the summer and now she’d see them all on the first day back to school, in new, unfamiliar and more daunting surroundings.
Charlie popped her head into the kitchen. Ma was doing Mrs Duffy’s nails.
“Ah, howya love?” cooed Mrs Duffy. “Off to the big gaff next week? Are ya looking forward to first year?” she asked.
“Eh, yeah,” replied Charlie non-committedly. “Right Ma, I’m off up to St Labhaoise’s,” she called, as she ambled to the front door.
She could hear the women murmuring in hushed tones.
“Quiet as always,” said Mrs Duffy.
“Yeah,” said Ma, “I don’t know what I’ll do with her. She’s been moping around all summer. She hasn’t seen any of her pals, just plays FIFA all day in her room.”
“Don’t worry, Georgia, secondary school will be great for her, a fresh start. Let her enjoy her last few days of freedom!” Mrs Duffy said.
When Charlie stepped out onto the front step she turned back around and grabbed her Liverpool jacket off the hook. Was she imagining it or had it already turned a bit chilly?
She remembered what her Nanny used to always say at this time of year. “Ah, the kids will go back to school and we’ll have an Indian Summer! It’s always the way. When the kids leave us, the sun’ll be splitting the rocks!”
Charlie loved this time of year, the change, the colours, the promise of a conker. The cul de sac where St Labhaoise’s had sat for almost 70 years had already begun ‘The Change’. Leaves dawdled to the concrete, rosebuds had lost their pink petals to the wind and the swallows were getting anxious. As Charlie strode into the carpark, she was surprised to see so many cars there. The teachers were getting ready for their next gaggle of children.
She rang the buzzer and Phil, the school’s infinitely patient secretary buzzed her into the school foyer. That heady school scent hit her right in the nose – disinfectant, air freshener, stale sambos, PVA glue all melded together into that universal aroma.
“Howya Charlie, love? I didn’t think we’d see you back here. How’s your Ma?” Phil trilled from her ever-present spot at her desk, never taking her eyes from the computer screen for even a second.
“Hiya Phil! Ah, I left a few bits here in June. Leo needs me school jumper for next week,” Charlie explained.
“No worries. You work away, sure you know your way around!” Phil declared.
Charlie strode down the familiar parqueted floored corridor until she reached classroom twenty. She could hear some rustling as well as drawer opening. Ms Gallagher must be here. Charlie didn’t really know how she felt about that. She pushed opened the door and stepped in.
“Howya, Ms Gallagher,” she said shyly, already feeling the blush rising to her cheeks.
“Ah, Charlie, there you are now. We missed you at graduation! How has your summer been?” greeted Ms Gallagher. “I’m so glad to see you!”
Charlie couldn’t understand how this could be true but she shrugged and continued. “I just came to grab me stuff.”
She moved towards her old desk and saw the small pile of belongings upon it, her jumper, pencil case and a small rectangular package. She held it up. “That’s not mine,” she said, in a questioning tone.
“That’s just something small for you. I wanted to give it to you at graduation,” the teacher replied.
“Thanks,” Charlie replied and made for the door.
“Bye Charlie, best of luck in secondary school!” Ms Gallagher called after her.
Walking back to the main door, curiosity got the better of her and she ripped off the prettily wrapped paper from the package. Inside was a black and white photograph from when the school team had won the GAA school’s blitz. The game where she’d set up a goal and scored two points. Four of her classmates were looking at Charlie adoringly and there was a smile on her face.
Underneath, in Ms Gallagher’s handwriting it said, “I see you. We all see you.”
A tear sprang to her eye, she turned on her heels and rushed back to Room 20. She ran to Ms Gallagher and gave her first ever “side hug”.
“Thank you,” she whispered and Ms Gallagher smiled.
On Charlie’s walk home under the trees, a conker fell at her feet. The green spiky shell had split open to reveal a shining new brown and perfect chestnut. Summer was ending, as was her childhood.
You can read the winning short story in the Sept|Oct issue of Irish Country Magazine, in shops now. Click here for details on how to enter our November competition.
