She's running from me like a frighted fawn. She's leaving. Her father is sending her to another school and its boarding and dear diary its in Switzerland. No longer will I be able to stroke her treacle coloured hair. She'll be gone. I always knew she was of a higher social class but long will I mourn this day this terrible day.
We have until 18 September and then her father will take her to London she will get on a train and be gone until next summer.
Even the dog looks mournful. Mum told me to stop moping - she does not understand me.
She's gone to London to be measured for her uniform. It sounds awful - all gentian blue and velvet frocks for the evening
She showed me the prospectus. its full of lots of young ladies with skis. Dining rooms such as I've never seen. They all look so trig and trim - so upper class. Indeed so like her.
Last night I traced the line of her bosom under her shirt but she pushed my hand away.
I am exhausted. I can't sleep for thinking about her impending departure. How will I ever manage school without her?
One month to go. One month until my dear one leaves me for good. I know she'll come back another person. The school will change her. I read more of the prospectus. I wonder if she'll really say her prayers everyday. I wonder how she'll cope with all those rules especially the ones about speaking 3 languages.
Oh my treacle haired beauty je t'aime, ich liebe dich, I love you.
School restarted today but without her it was misery. Brain Box Henderson told me it looked as if my world had come to an end. I snapped miserably that without her it had.
We're starting our o'level courses all the teachers could talk about was how much work we'd have.
Just a week to go. She says I can come to London to see her off. I should be at school but dear diary the fate of my loved one is more important and with her I shall go. Just one last kiss. Again my hand traced the line of her bra again she pushed me away.
What should I wear to see my loved one off to school? I took out my pitiful collection of clothes and finally chose the black suit, white shirt and black tie I wore to Queenies funeral. Funeral wear seems appropriate when my heart is breaking.
Midnight - 10 hours and my loved one will be gone
4am 6 hours left and I'm not even with her. They're expecting me at 7.30am to join them on the drive to London
7am - I'm up dressed and leaving. My mother told me I looked terrible. I snapped "what do you expect she's going" she told me that its all I should have expected and next time I should aim my cap at a girl my own class.
Miss Wilmot ticked off the last girl on her list and looked proudly at the trig and trim rows of Chalet School Girls awaiting her inspection.
"Girls, the train leaves in a few minutes so now you've all said your final goodbyes pick up your hand cases and find your seats. Prefects you are responsible for the juniors and middles and seniors are to follow......"
She got so far before a voice piped up "Miss Wilmot".
"Yes Mary what is it"
"Miss Wilmot, Pandora Braithewaite has gone missing, we've looked for her everywhere"
Miss Wilmot sighed in exasperation. There had been questions about taking this girl on since the report from her previous school had said she'd been involved in a protest about the colour of the schools socks. There had also been the question of the fact that the school was co-educational and she'd been exposed to the influence of boys. However the decision had been made to accept her as her academic report was good and in line with school tradition everyone deserved a second chance.
Now Miss Wilmot surveyed the station. She could not believe what she saw for there was her new pupil engaged in a passionate embrace with a young man who looked anything but suitable for a Chalet girl.
Thank you for the reviews so far its good to know people are reading this
Chapter End Notes:
Well there' a start more to follow