A Little Learning. Anne Bennett
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had been to the house, for Sarah McClusky burst out, ‘What time do you call this, miss?’ Then she exclaimed, ‘Mother of God! Have you seen the state of yourself?’
Janet looked down. One black stocking had a hole in the knee and the other a long tear, and Janet remembered the trailing thorn that she’d caught it on. She saw that the thorn had entered her skin and globules of blood were oozing through the stocking.
‘Look at your dress, child,’ Gran went on, indicating the brown soil staining the checked dress, ‘and what have you done to your hand?’
Fortunately, Janet’s hand was too dirty for Sarah to see exactly what had happened to it. She went on, ‘Your face is all over dirt. Dear God, Janet, as if we haven’t trouble enough.’
‘I’m sorry, Gran, I fell over, I was running,’ Janet gasped out. ‘But what trouble?’
‘Your mother’s on her time,’ Gran said. ‘You’re to go to your Aunt Breda’s. Duncan’s gone already. He’s been home this long time.’
Janet felt faint. The baby wasn’t due yet, not for weeks. Now she understood why her gran had kept her on the doorstep. A shuddering scream came from above.
‘But I want to see Mom,’ Janet cried. She attempted to rush past her gran, but Sarah was too quick.
‘Oh no you don’t, my girl,’ she said.
Another agonising scream rent the air, and Janet almost leapt from her grandmother’s arms.
‘Janet, Janet,’ said her gran pleadingly, ‘you can’t do anything for your mother. Be a good girl and go to Aunt Breda, there’s a love.’
‘She’ll be all right, Gran, won’t she?’ Janet asked.
‘Of course, my dear,’ said Sarah, but she didn’t meet Janet’s eyes. ‘I’ll have to go back upstairs to help. You must go now.’
‘Sarah! Sarah!’ Janet heard the voice of Mrs Williams, the midwife, and knew her gran was needed. She turned away without another word and made her way to her auntie’s.
‘You took your time,’ Aunt Breda said as Janet went in through the kitchen door. Then she turned and caught sight of her niece’s appearance, and said, as her mother had:
‘Mother of God, what happened to you?’
‘I fell over.’
‘Well, get yourself washed and something inside you and you’ll feel better. You’d better strip off those stockings and I’ll try and darn the tears, though it’s your mother who’s the best darner. The teachers were always praising her for her neat stitches. She …’ Breda’s voice trailed away, for her eyes met those of Janet, who suddenly burst into tears.
‘Oh, Auntie Breda, Mom’s bad, isn’t she?’ she gasped.
‘Oh, lovey,’ Breda soothed, gathering Janet in a hug. ‘She’ll be all right.’
Noel and Conner were sitting up to the table attacking their stew with their spoons. They caught the seriousness of the atmosphere and it frightened them. They began to bawl too.
Duncan couldn’t stand it. ‘I’m finished eating,’ he said. ‘Can I go?’
‘Take the two boyos with you,’ Breda said, indicating the twins.
‘Haven’t I to go back to school then?’ Duncan said, surprised.
‘No, I might need you to give a hand,’ Breda said.
‘Well, I still don’t see why I’ve got to take the twins with me,’ Duncan said mulishly.
‘Because I said so,’ Breda snapped, ‘and because they’re only little and they’re frightened and don’t understand anything, and it won’t hurt their big brother to think of someone other than himself for once.’
Duncan felt momentarily ashamed. He was a bit scared too. He knew things weren’t right with his mother having the baby so soon, and he was turned twelve and a half. His brothers were only babies.
‘Stop snivelling,’ he told them sternly. ‘If you do, I’ll take you up the park.’
The two little boys gulped and tried manfully to stem the tide of tears. Breda, still hugging Janet, said, ‘Get a tanner from my purse on the mantelpiece and buy some sweets for you all. The sweet coupons are behind the clock.’
That brought smiles to all their faces. As Janet watched them go down the road she said:
‘He doesn’t care, our Duncan, he doesn’t care.’
‘Of course he cares,’ Aunt Breda said. ‘But he’s a man, or nearly a man. They deal with things like this by going away and pretending it isn’t happening. ’Tisn’t as if they can do anything. They’re best out the way.’
‘Can I … can I stay off school this afternoon too?’ Janet said.
‘Well, I don’t think you’d concentrate much, would you?’ Aunt Breda said with a smile. ‘Anyway, you couldn’t go in that state and I’ll not darn those stockings in five minutes, nor get the stains out of your dress. You’ve not had a bite to eat yet either, and anyway, you’re more use to me here.’
Later, as Janet washed her stinging hands and smarting legs in a bowl of hot water, she prayed silently, Not this way, Jesus, please don’t let anything happen to my mom. I didn’t mean You to do it this way.
Claire finished the register quickly, and leaving it on the desk, went out to find Janet. It didn’t occur to her that Janet had left the building. She thought she was hiding away in the school somewhere and she returned to the classroom deep in thought. The children watched her with reproachful eyes. When the boy Claire chose to take the register to the office reported that Janet wasn’t outside the door any more, whispers started to go round the room. They remembered the look on Claire’s face as she beat Janet. They thought she’d taken her to the Head for further punishment, and that wasn’t considered fair.
Claire set the class some exercises and went off to search for Janet. She found her coat and bag on her peg, and decided that she’d pop across to the Travers’ house with them at lunchtime. It was a trying morning. The whole class, Claire realised, seemed to blame her for the incident. They were silent in disapproval. No one answered the questions she asked after lessons, and no one volunteered to give out books or apparatus. There was no pleasant interchange between teacher and pupils as there had been formerly, for the children refused to play. Claire felt the barriers go up, and though they were all icily polite, by the end of the morning she was exhausted.
At lunchtime, a staff meeting was called, so Claire had to stay in school instead of going over to Janet’s house. The girl did not materialise that afternoon either, and time seemed to drag slowly. Just before four o’clock Claire overheard a conversation between two mothers waiting in the playground outside her window.
‘I hear Bet Travers is in a bad way. Our Elsie bumped into Sean going for the doctor.’
‘She’s been bad this long time.’
‘Yes, but she’s been in labour all day, they say, and the screams of her can be heard down the street. She’s not due for another few weeks.’
‘Be the hospital for her, likely.’
‘Yes, and God help them if it isn’t the crematorium for one or the other.’
Oh my God, what have I done? Claire thought. Perhaps Janet’s mother was in labour before she came to school, and in her anxiety she was rude to me. And I lashed out at her. Why didn’t I take her from the room and talk to her? Janet’s never acted that way before. Why didn’t I imagine it was something like that?
She wondered if someone had come for Janet while she was outside in the corridor. Leaving her bag and coat behind seemed to suggest a headlong flight prompted by agitation. As soon as the last bell had gone, Claire caught up Janet’s coat and