Peggy's Letters Read Online Free Page A

to me so they don’t wave back.
    â€œCome along,” calls Mrs. Mashman. “We haven’t got all day.”
    I follow her down a long corridor to a noisy classroom. Mrs. Mashman flings open the door. There’s instant silence.
    â€œWhat is going on, Mrs. Bottomly?” she booms.
    Mrs. Bottomly is a little old lady with snowy curls and bright pink cheeks.
    â€œEverything is, is fine, Mrs. Mashman,” she stammers. “Just some high spirits in class today.”
    The headmistress glares at both the class and the teacher. “Save your high spirits for the playground. This is Peggy Fisher, your new pupil.”
    I can feel the room staring at my mousy plaits, my snubby nose, my skinny legs and my uniform, which isn’t quite the same as everyone else’s. I want to crawl under Mrs. Bottomly’s desk.
    The headmistress turns on her heels and leaves the room. I stand frozen to the spot listening to her footsteps echoing down the corridor. Nora would have said something funny and the whole class would have instantly laughed and loved her. I just stand there looking at my shoes.
    â€œHang your coat and gas mask on the hook and sit next to Annie,” says my new teacher, pointing to an empty desk. “Perhaps Annie can show you around at recess.”
    Annie is older than me and hardly gives me a glance before turning back to her friend. The classroom is getting noisy again.
    â€œSettle down children,” says Mrs. Bottomly, fluttering her hands. “Lets get out our math books….No, stop that….Quiet now.” Her pink cheeks get even pinker.
    The room smells of chalk dust just like my old classroom, but nothing else is the same. Instead of pictures on the walls, war posters tell everybody not to waste anything. The only books on the shelves are ratty old textbooks; nothing that looks fun to read.
    An eraser flies across the room, then a piece of chalk. But no one seems to care. Out the window the playground waits for recess. My old playground had grass. This one is all concrete.
    At last the bell rings, and the whole class runs for the door in a swirling mass of shrieks. Mrs. Bottomly straightens her books, takes off her glasses and, with a gasp, leaves the classroom too.
    Annie doesn’t stay behind to show me around. No one does.
    Grabbing my coat, I find my own way outside. There’s nothing to do but wander round the hopscotch squares and marble games. Mrs. Mashman is at her office window, watching the playground like a hawk. A football flies over and hits me on the leg.
    â€œOuch.”
    â€œGive us our ball back.”
    Oh, no. It’s that Spud boy. What’s he doing here? He looks different from the last time I saw him. His clothes are neat, and his curls are plastered down with grease.
    â€œHello, Peg,” he says looking as surprised as I am.
    â€œMy name’s Peggy, and your ball’s over there.”
    I turn my back on him. Why is the only person who talks to me someone I don’t want to talk to, ever? I walk away and end up leaning against a wall watching the skippers. Annie and another girl are turning a long length of rope. As it thwacks the ground, I automatically sway in rhythm, getting ready for the perfect moment to run in.
    â€œI like coffee, I like tea. I want Doreen to jump in with me,” chants one of the girls.
    I ache to join in, but no one calls my name.
    Dear Dad
    I am invisible. I really am. It only happens at school. As soon as I go through the gate, poof - no one can see me. I have been at this school for one whole week, and it happens every day.
    I’ve looked in every girl’s face to see who I would like for a friend. Nobody looks at me. Don’t they know I’d be a very nice friend if only they would give me a try?
    Love, Peggy

8
    I am sick. I have a cough, a stomach-ache, an earache and a sore foot. Mum still makes me go to school, off to another boring Monday sitting next to snooty Annie.
    I