The first day he came to stay with us, we thought he was an enormous prat. He flung peas at Henry when my mother wasn’t looking. And on two occasions he called me “Girl.” As in, “What do you think you are doing, girl?” We were told to be nice to Edward. We were told the Edward had a hard go of it. Although we were never told exactly what he had a hard go of. Nothing seemed to justify what a rude and vile boy he was.
We were perfectly fine when it was just the three of us – my
little brother, Henry, my mother Georgina and me, Penelope Ann Miller. Our
father had been off fighting a war for some time. We saw him on holidays, and
he would tell us how he had built schools and hospitals for all the children
who didn’t have any. Whenever we would see a school out the car window, Henry
would proclaim to anyone that could hear him that his father had built that
school – I don’t know if he was lying or if he honestly believed that.
The day Edward Smee moved in, I was relieved to find out
that at the very least I would not have share a room with him. That misfortune
would land on my brother. When he showed up on our doorstep he had a suitcase
on his left side and a black eye on his right. Henry gave me a nervous look and
I touched his should for comfort. The first words out of Edwards mouth were,
“What are you looking at, Girl?” I disliked him immediately.
Henry, perhaps on account of having to share a room, had a
more optimistic approach. He took every punch and flick of the ear, as if it
were some kind of joke. Maybe if he laughed enough Edward would get bored and
move on. I was unwilling to be so patient. It was true that I sometimes picked
on Henry, but he was my brother, and I wouldn’t let some strange boy rag on
him. “Listen here Edward Alexander Smee,” I said. I learned from my mother that
when you really mean business it requires the use of a middle name. “I won’t do
to have you kicking and flicking anyone in this house.” Edward looked at me for
a long time. I wondered if he was trying to figure out the best way to hit a
girl. And then, eventually, he said, “okay,” as if that was all that was
required of him. He picked himself up and into his room.
