A Wish and a Wedding by Margaret Way

First of all she had made each child come up to the blackboard to write their name, age and class. Next she had decided she wanted one brightly painted feature wall, where the children could display their artwork. She wondered what talent she might discover. She had also decided the schoolroom needed a small upright piano, so there could be singing. She rather fancied forming a junior choir. She wasn’t a highly accomplished pianist, like Pip, but she had some talent, and had managed to gain an Associate Diploma by the time she left school.
    By three o’clock, the end of the day—though it was two o’clock for the two little four-year-olds, who took a nap anyway—she was bursting with ideas. The children had not only to be taught, they had to be entertained. Music, the universal language, would be a good start. She didn’t need Haddo to supply the piano—though she had better talk to him about it first—she could buy it herself and have it trucked out.
    â€œI didn’t know I was such an idiot!” Chrissy said, folding her skinny arms over her head. “Even Charlie knows some of his tables. And that little kid, Leila, writes better than I do. Just look at her name and mine.” Chrissy, a virtual orphan, who had regularly been beaten up at her various homes, pointed to the board.
    â€œSome of the best-educated people in the country have terrible writing,” Tori laughingly pointed out. “There’s no such thing as a copybook, like in the olden days. You should see Pip’s writing. It’s beautiful. Haddo has a good hand. And mine’s not too bad.”
    â€œIt’s beautiful!” Chrissy said strongly. “And you’re so smart! The kids really enjoyed their lessons. The way you put things and explain. I did too.”
    Tori’s tender heart broke a little. “Don’t worry, you’ll catch up to where you want to be in no time, Chrissy,” she promised. “All you have to do is want to.”
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    In the time she had been on Mallarinka Chrissy had been protected and cushioned by the kindness of the household—Tori, Philippa, Haddo, motherly Kate in the kitchen, with whom she got on extremely well—and had an uncomplicated friendship with the house girls Kate had trained so well. But now, within days of the arrival of Haddo’s sister Kerri—tall, bone-thin, very glamorous, unhappy and because of it on the caustic side—and her friend Marcy—by way of contrast, a short, very pretty brunette, carrying a few extra pounds, but shapely with it—the atmosphere took on an abrupt sea change. Marcy, who was remarkably skittish around Haddo, was given to passing snappy, loud comments when he wasn’t around, and Chrissy was the butt of many of Marcy’s wisecracks. Sometimes they were funny, but they had a core of ridicule that came perilously close to insult.
    Tori came in for her share too. The only difference being that Tori had no difficulty firing off a quick retort, while Chrissy couldn’t handle repartee, and she had no confidence whatever around “posh” women like Kerri and Marcy—the social elite. As far as Chrissy was concerned they came under the label of “rich bitches”. Women who had never had to fend for themselves and were way out of touch with what Tori sardonically called “the lower orders”. And the first and last time Marcy had smilingly interrogated Chrissy about what had happened to her front tooth—feigning fascination—Tori had told her if she didn’t ease off Chrissy she might be missing a front tooth herself.
    â€œOh, sorry—sorry, Victoria!” Marcy, dressed in a white linen shirt and matching trousers, performed an exaggerated salaam. “You’re such a firecracker, aren’t you? You’ve done so many wild things since you were a kid—and your friend, Chrissy!” She rolled her eyes. “You found her in a