Party at Silver Spires Read Online Free
Author: Ann Bryant
was grinning, but I still felt uncomfortable.
âIâ¦I can only remember certain things⦠I meanâ¦not everythingâ¦â My eyes happened to meet Antoniaâs at that moment and she looked away abruptly, which made my stomach tighten. She probably hadnât understood a single word Iâd said, as Iâd reeled the houses and their colours off in such a gabble. I told myself to speak more slowly in future. And I also reminded myself to think before I spoke at all.
Youâre trying to fit in, remember, Nicole.
I was desperate for someone to change the subject, but when Sasha suddenly looked into the distance, her hand hovering in front of her face with a forkful of food, and said, âI wonder if my mum and dad are missing meâ¦â I forgot all about fitting in, as a little rush of sadness came over me.
My parents have been separated for the last eight months. They used to argue horribly all the time, and it was almost a relief when they split up. We get to see Dad every other weekend now and he phones us at least twice a week. I can tell heâs trying to show us that he loves us just as much as ever, even though heâs not actually living with us. Itâs sad without Dad in the house, but at least in one way itâs better because there are no more arguments. Unfortunately he and Mum obviously thought Iâd want them to be together on the special occasion of dropping me off on my first day here at Silver Spires. And it was true, I did think it was a lovely idea, but I changed my mind roughly halfway through the journey when they started a massive argument about the fact that Dad hadnât cleaned or tidied the car.
Dad said there hadnât been any need to tidy up his cans of paints and his ladders and dust sheets and things that were in the boot, because my two squashy bags easily fitted in. And as for cleaning the car, he said he hadnât had time because he spent every hour trying to earn enough money to pay for Mum and us lot, as well as his own flat. Hearing him sounding so angry had sent me straight back to the time when he lived at home and I used to hear the cross voices coming up through the kitchen ceiling into my room.
I shrank down in the back of the car and Mum spoke in sharp whispers through her teeth, as though that would protect me from the argument. She said it was going to be totally embarrassing arriving at a posh private school in a dirty old Volvo estate and that Dad should have thought about that, and it was typical of him that he hadnât.
The argument kept on coming to an end, or so I thought, but then after a few minutes of silence, or after Iâd tried my best to change the conversation, one or other of them would bring it back again with a very final-sounding sentence, as though they were determined to have the last word. It was Dad who managed it. âWell, donât bother to come next time, if youâre that ashamed of the car. Iâll collect Nicole without you.â Iâd felt sorry for Mum at that moment, because she didnât have a car of her own yet, though she kept saying it wouldnât be long till she could afford one.
I remember how weâd turned into the long Silver Spires drive then and found ourselves in a line of the smartest, newest cars Iâd ever seen in my life. And Mum hadnât sounded cross then, just really anxious, as sheâd pointed out the makes of some of the cars and compared them to our old Volvo.
It had been a relief when my parents had finally gone, because I didnât have to listen to them snapping at each other any more. But in another, bigger way, Iâd also felt a heavy sadness weighing me down. I love both my parents and it hurts me when they argue. Iâm not going to be seeing them for ages and I didnât like the horrible memory I was left with, that was now running through my head as I sat here in the Silver Spires dining hall, listening to everyone
âIâ¦I can only remember certain things⦠I meanâ¦not everythingâ¦â My eyes happened to meet Antoniaâs at that moment and she looked away abruptly, which made my stomach tighten. She probably hadnât understood a single word Iâd said, as Iâd reeled the houses and their colours off in such a gabble. I told myself to speak more slowly in future. And I also reminded myself to think before I spoke at all.
Youâre trying to fit in, remember, Nicole.
I was desperate for someone to change the subject, but when Sasha suddenly looked into the distance, her hand hovering in front of her face with a forkful of food, and said, âI wonder if my mum and dad are missing meâ¦â I forgot all about fitting in, as a little rush of sadness came over me.
My parents have been separated for the last eight months. They used to argue horribly all the time, and it was almost a relief when they split up. We get to see Dad every other weekend now and he phones us at least twice a week. I can tell heâs trying to show us that he loves us just as much as ever, even though heâs not actually living with us. Itâs sad without Dad in the house, but at least in one way itâs better because there are no more arguments. Unfortunately he and Mum obviously thought Iâd want them to be together on the special occasion of dropping me off on my first day here at Silver Spires. And it was true, I did think it was a lovely idea, but I changed my mind roughly halfway through the journey when they started a massive argument about the fact that Dad hadnât cleaned or tidied the car.
Dad said there hadnât been any need to tidy up his cans of paints and his ladders and dust sheets and things that were in the boot, because my two squashy bags easily fitted in. And as for cleaning the car, he said he hadnât had time because he spent every hour trying to earn enough money to pay for Mum and us lot, as well as his own flat. Hearing him sounding so angry had sent me straight back to the time when he lived at home and I used to hear the cross voices coming up through the kitchen ceiling into my room.
I shrank down in the back of the car and Mum spoke in sharp whispers through her teeth, as though that would protect me from the argument. She said it was going to be totally embarrassing arriving at a posh private school in a dirty old Volvo estate and that Dad should have thought about that, and it was typical of him that he hadnât.
The argument kept on coming to an end, or so I thought, but then after a few minutes of silence, or after Iâd tried my best to change the conversation, one or other of them would bring it back again with a very final-sounding sentence, as though they were determined to have the last word. It was Dad who managed it. âWell, donât bother to come next time, if youâre that ashamed of the car. Iâll collect Nicole without you.â Iâd felt sorry for Mum at that moment, because she didnât have a car of her own yet, though she kept saying it wouldnât be long till she could afford one.
I remember how weâd turned into the long Silver Spires drive then and found ourselves in a line of the smartest, newest cars Iâd ever seen in my life. And Mum hadnât sounded cross then, just really anxious, as sheâd pointed out the makes of some of the cars and compared them to our old Volvo.
It had been a relief when my parents had finally gone, because I didnât have to listen to them snapping at each other any more. But in another, bigger way, Iâd also felt a heavy sadness weighing me down. I love both my parents and it hurts me when they argue. Iâm not going to be seeing them for ages and I didnât like the horrible memory I was left with, that was now running through my head as I sat here in the Silver Spires dining hall, listening to everyone
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