The London School For Girls


It was late November of 1961. Even though it was freezing in the school yard with snowy slush all over the place, I wasn't cold. I didn't even notice. I slung my books down onto the steps and dug around in my coat pockets for the brochure. Finally I found it, crumpled a little, but still intact.

"Is that it?" Jackie asked. She looked curiously over my shoulder, reading the pamphlet. "The Liverpool School For Girls?"

"Yeah. I'm leaving Sunday." I sighed.

"That only gives you two days to pack!" Jackie looked horrified. She was one of those people who had no business buying clothes, but bought it anyway. She was always broke, but somehow scraped together money for the latest fashions and fads.

"I'll miss this place." I was going to London, England, from New York to go to a boarding school there. It was the best, or so the brochure proclaimed. My mother had a sister nearby where I'd be staying, which made her feel better about sending me there. I wasn't sure why she was even carting me off across the Atlantic in the first place. She were very airy about the whole matter, only telling me that it would be a good experience. What else could I do but go?

"I'll miss you, too, Jess. You're practically the only sane girl left." Jackie frowned. "Who am I supposed to complain to now?"

"There are plenty of other girls here, Jackie. It's not like anyone would give up being friends with you," I shoved the brochure back into my pocket and picked up my books. "Look, I've got to go. Packing." I turned and headed down the steps, waving goodbye while brushing away a tear.


"Mom, why am I going to this place? And why halfway across the world? Come on, you've been really evasive. Tell me," I closed my suitcase and set it down by the door, waiting for an answer.

"Please don't ask questions, Jess. It's just really important that you go. And isn't it a nice school? Don't you like the looks of it?" She wouldn't meet my eyes, only stared at my bedspread.

I refrained from yelling at her. "I like it. It's a nice school. But I don't like the fact that we have to wear uniforms."

Mother laughed a little. "Well, is that all? You like it otherwise?"

I nodded.

"Good. I'm going to the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner. You can set the table if you like. I won't be too long."

"Okay, I will." I followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen. She took her coat and keys while I got two plates. I watched her leave, wondering why she was waiting so late to go to the grocery store. She had been acting very funny lately.


Sunday had always been a day reserved for church and quiet. It was a stiff day--if a day could be stiff--and one that dragged by. After late mass at eleven o' clock, Mother and I would drive home and do our own thing. However, I was expected to stay in the house and do something useful, something productive. Mother treated Sunday like it had once been treated years and years ago. I hated Sunday.

But this one was different. We got up and went to early mass at six o' clock, ate breakfast, loaded all of my luggage into the back and trunk of the car, and then drove to the airport. In silence, of course.

My flight was scheduled to leave at eight. Mother and I arrived five minutes late, but luckily there had been delays, and we managed to get my luggage onto the plane. Then we sat down to wait, as it was customary to do. There were several other people waiting too: a nervous looking business man, a woman and her children, three girls about my age giggling over Seventeen magazine. I wondered if they were going where I was. They looked like they had been friends for a long time. Of course they wouldn't accept another person into their tight circle, I reasoned.

"Flight 3071 is now boarding at Gate 5. Flight 3071 is now boarding at Gate 5." came a voice over the loudspeakers.

"Well, Jess, that's your flight." Mother and I stood up. We hugged awkwardly, and then I showed the stewardess my ticket. She smiled too widely at me as she waved me through. My seat was at the back, luckily the one next to the window. I sat down, putting my little back securely at my feet, and watched as people boarded. I prayed no one would get my seat. It had been a small flight in the first place, so perhaps I'd be on my own.

The nervous businessman came towards me. I cringed, but he sat down two seats ahead. A few more passengers and then the pilot greeted us from the cockpit. Then a stewardess went through the safety routine, smiling even as she told us what to do if the plane happened to crash into water, and how to put on our life jackets.

I soon became bored (who wouldn't?) and took out the handbook I'd received in the mail from the London School For Girls. It listed all the rules, explained them in depth, went over all the courses available, disclipline, places of interest and tour spots around London. We got the weekend off, but could only stay in the city unless we had permission to go elsewhere. I had also gotten my schedule:

1. English III
2. Biology
3. Algebra II
4. French III
5. British History
6. British Poetry

I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the British Poetry and History classes, but I never had been a very academic student in the first place.

I tried to concentrate on the rules, but my mind wandered. I kept thinking about how pale and nervous my mother looked all that morning, even during mass. She hardly said a word, and when she did, she was overly cheerful. I didn't really want to leave her. I feared something was terribly wrong.


The plane touched down at the London Heathrow Airport sometime near 8:30 that night. According to my schedule, 8:15 symolized free time or a chance to get a snack at the kitchens. I was glad I wouldn't be attending any classes until the next day. It would be hard enough to get along because of jet lag, but I also wanted time alone.

A taxi took me to the school. It looked just like it did in the pictures; a narrow red brick, three story structure looking decidedly forboding at night. I paid the cabbie four pounds, whatever amount that was in the U.S. dollar, and carried my luggage myself up to the front door. Before I could lift a hand to knock, the heavy oak door flew open and a thin woman in her fifties at least stood before me. She looked like she had been transported here from the 1800s, judging from the dress she wore.

"Hello, dear!" she greeted me warmly. "Please come in! It's frightfully chilly outside, isn't it?"

I nodded, feeling shy.

"I understand you're Jessica Atkinson, am I right?"

"Yes,"

"I am Miss Thomas, the Headmistress of the London School For Girls. I oversee most everything here. Now, I'll show you your room, and give you a tour, Jessica." Miss Thomas headed up some stairs, but not before calling into the darkness of a hall, "Oh, James, would you carry the young lady's suitcases?"

A tall man stepped out of nowhere and took my things from me. I followed Miss Thomas up the stairs and down a long hall.

"The first floor is where the kitchen, parlor, and recreation room are, along with a few studies. The second floor is for classrooms, and the third is where you will be staying. We have very few students here, about fifty. Classes are small, usually holding five girls."

We continued on until we arrived on the third story. It was the same as the others. Hunter green carpet covered part of the hardwood floor, and there were lamps along the hall placed between each door.

"Your room is the second one on the left. Here is your key. You may get unpacked and join us downstairs for a little snack if you wish, or you may stay here and get some rest. I'm sure you're very tired, and it may be best if you get aquainted tomorrow morning."

She left without waiting for a reply. I unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. It was a large room with shining hardwood floors. The furniture was dark and heavy looking, along with the whole atmosphere of the room. Cobalt wallpaper covered the walls, which made even the bright overhead light seem much dimmer. There were two windows on the eastern side, but the thick curtains in front of them would easily block out any daylight from coming in.

I unpacked my clothes, putting them away neatly in the wardrobe and closet. Another door adjacent to it revealed a small bathroom. I was surprised that I got my own and wondered if everyone else did as well.

Tiredly I changed into a nightgown and crawled into bed. Though I was ready to drop, I couldn't go to sleep. My thoughts drifted from Mother to what was going on at home, how the school year would be, if I would be accepted by everyone else here. Just before I fell asleep, I heard giggles and laughter, and then someone saying, "I wonder what the new girl is like. We'll have to make it rough for her, unless she's all right. They say she's from America, too."

"She can't be that bad." Another commented. "I've heard Americans are quite nice, really."

"Well, we'll soon see about that. I stole into Miss Thomas' office and looked at her schedule. She has a lot of classes with me." the first girl said.

I couldn't hear the rest of the conversation because they moved on. My heart began beating faster and faster, and I immediately wished I was home.


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