A Game of Proof by Tim Vicary Page A

up?’
    ‘Probably not.’ Bob sighed, and took a life-saving draught of tea. ‘You don’t have to be first person in every day, surely? Have a heart, Sarah.’
    ‘It’s a brain she needs, not a heart.’ Sarah walked quickly across to her daughter’s bedroom. ‘Emily, are you up? I want a word.’
    ‘What? Oh, mum, no.’ Emily was still in bed. She opened one eye, saw who it was, and buried her face in the pillow.
    Sarah softened a little. She sat on the edge of the bed and touched her daughter’s shoulder. The shoulder shrank away. ‘Emily, wake up. I just want to talk to you for a bit. Dad says you’re worried about your exams.’
    A mumble that might have been ‘so I am’ came from deep in the pillow.
    ‘Don’t you want to talk about it?’
    ‘No, not now - I’m asleep.’
    Sarah sighed. ‘You’ve got to get up anyway to go to school.’
    ‘No, I haven’t. Not going today.’
    ‘Don’t be silly, of course you’re going. You’re not ill, are you?’
    ‘No. I’m revising at home.’
    ‘But you can’t just skip school when you feel like it.’
    ‘’Course I can. Everyone’s doing it. The lessons are finished now - all we do at school is revise or sit around and talk. I can work better here.’
    Emily hunched up to a half-sitting position facing her mother. Her face was puffy from sleep, but there were no signs of tears. Sarah felt her forehead. ‘You’re not feverish, are you?’
    ‘No , mother! For God’s sake, I’m just staying home to revise! It’s only six days to German, you know!’
    ‘All right.’ Sarah looked around the room. There were books and papers spread on the desk, clothes scattered all over the floor. ‘Have you got all your books here?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Well, you can at least pick up these clothes if you’re going to be here all day.’ She regretted the words as soon as she’d said them; predictably, they brought tears to Emily’s eyes.
    ‘I haven’t got time for that - don’t you understand? I’ve got all this work and almost no time left to do it and you go on about stupid things like clothes! It’s just like that silly concert - why did I have to waste time practising when I could have been revising instead? I don’t know any German and I’ve got an exam in six days and I’m going to fail, I know I am!’
    She was crying, and turned her face towards the wall. Sarah groaned inwardly, and surreptitiously checked her watch. She really would have to go soon, to get ready for court. Clumsily, she tried to embrace her daughter, but Emily shoved her away.
    ‘Don’t! Leave me alone!’
    Frustrated, Sarah tried to speak sensibly. ‘Look, you did all right in the German mock, didn’t you? You got an A ...’
    ‘A B ! And I only just got that!’
    ‘All right, a B then. But that’s not too bad ...’
    ‘ You never got B s, did you? You never got a B in anything!’
    ‘Well, maybe I didn’t, but ... I thought I was going to get B s lots of times, so I did a bit more work and got an A . That’s what you should do, darling. If you sit here and work hard ...’
    ‘It’s not just German, you know! There’s nine other subjects!’
    ‘I know. But they don’t all happen on the same day, do they? What you should do is set out a plan, a revision timetable, and then ...’
    ‘What do you think I’m doing?’ Furiously, Emily leapt out of bed, scrabbled in the mess of papers on her desk, and waved a coloured chart under Sarah’s nose. ‘See - look at that! That’s what I’m doing! Supposed to be doing, anyway. That’s what my life is now!’
    ‘Good, well, stick to it then. I do know, Emily, I have done a few exams myself. Do the work, and you’ll be OK.’
    ‘Yes, but you’re different,’ said Emily, shaking her tousled hair and glaring at her mother bitterly. ‘You’re just superwoman, you can do anything, no one else is like you. I don’t even want to be like you, why should I? I’ll fail and be like Simon - he’s happy!’
    A cold panic