His face had gone a deeper puce and there was a crystal drop at the end of his nose.
Geoffrey saw us as we came through the yard gate. He was still in his tobogganing clothes - dirty white sweater, enormous scarf and blue shorts.
“What have you sissies been up to?” he screamed hysterically, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t you go tobogganing?”
“We’ve been looking for the Findern Fillies,” I answered. I thought the wickedness of it might satisfy him.
“A lot of good they’d be to you!” he sneered. Then he chased me into the drying-room, which was full of steaming, muddy, sweaty clothes. I ran behind the boiler and pressed hard against the wall to get away from him; but it was too hot and I had to come out. He was ready for me.
“You can pretend I’m one of your Findern Fillies,” he shouted as he pounced on me and knocked me down. When he had me on the floor his head swooped down like a bird and he slobbered on me, biting my ear viciously in his pretended kiss. I pushed my hand in his face and he bit my finger; then he got up and trod on me, knocking all the air out of me.
The days were being eaten up. I wriggled in my clothes, feeling my body separate itself from the wool of my vest and pants. Soon I would put these tails and striped trousers away and would never look at them again unless, perhaps, I were going to a wedding.
Although I had always hated their tightness and blackness, I had never felt so conscious of myself as I had in them. To wear clothes you hate makes you concentrate inside yourself, away from your surroundings.
The rain had melted my straw hat into soft curves. Although I had pressed it with books it would never quite regain its shape. I hated it most of all. I wanted to wear soft, loose, bright clothes with no hat at all.
I thought of the clothes I would have for China, but I knew that my aunt would supervise everything. I would not be able to choose for myself.
She had written to my brother lately, and I had opened the letter as I often did. My aunt did not know this. She said how glad she was that I was soon to be removed from the bad influence of my friends. She mentioned one who had been very good to me; often having me to stay.
A delightful feeling of rage seethed and bubbled over me as I read the letter. I was trembling a little and my palms felt sticky. Righteous indignation must be the cheapest emotion in the world.
I rushed up to the study, and sat down at my table with its ink-stained green table-cloth. I rummaged for paper and pen and then began to write. It must have been a silly letter. When I had finished I felt quite soothed and chastened. I put on my hat and ran to the pillar-box before I could change my mind.
The result of this letter was that my aunt told my brother that she refused to have any more to do with me until I apologized.
I had not apologized, and never dreamt of doing so. I wondered what would happen when I went back for the holidays.
I began to collect my things together. All the school books had to be left in a big pile on my table. I took my games clothes up to the dormitory to be packed. Geoffrey and I went together to the Armoury to return our uniforms. The long, thin sergeant called “Pull Through” was there. I smelt the oil rags and metal for the last time. We made jokes about someone’s initials which were F.
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