My pencil scratched across the page rapidly as the clock on the wall chimed two o’clock. One hour to go. I looked around at my classmates. Their heads were bent over like mine, concentrating on the page in front of them. The only noises in the room was the constant ticking of the clock’s hands and the occasional cough as everyone raced to finish their exam in time.
The teacher sat in the front of the class, marking another year’s papers. He looks up, catching my eye. A smile tentatively grows on his lips, urging me to continue with my paper. I sigh, looking back down at my page, trying to find the right words to close my argument. I’m almost done, but it’s the last paragraph I’m having trouble with. It doesn’t help that it’s a beautiful day outside, and as soon as I’m done here I have fencing practice with Sam.
That thought spurs me on for a little bit longer, and I smile secretly to myself. Fencing classes are one of the only joys I have in this place.
Fifteen minutes go past quickly, and I’m still concluding my argument when there is a knock on the door and the Dean’s secretary walks in. Everyone looks up at the intrusion, but Mr. Mathers tells us to continue on with our exams. Everybody pretends to work, but in reality we’re trying out best to listen to the hushed voices of the adults.
Mr. Mathers, who previously had his head bent near the secretary’s, looks up at me. I feel my face go red as my classmates realize that he’s staring at me, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“Alexa Bond, you’re wanted in the Dean’s office,” he says, looking at me with as much curiosity as the rest of the class. “Please bring me your paper; if you’ve not finished it we will discuss later ways of making it up.”
I nodded, silent as I packed up my things, shoving them into the black tote bag I owned. The rest of the class pretended to continue with their papers, but clearing eyeing me and wondering what an earth I had done to be called into the Dean’s office.
Turning over my paper, Mr. Mathers gave me what I guessed was meant to be a reassuring smile. Walking out of the classroom and down the walls of Winchester Academy, however, I wasn’t too reassured. As far as I was aware, I hadn’t done anything wrong.
My whole life was this school. I had no family - that I was aware of - so I didn’t leave the school grounds for weekends away or school holidays. For as long as I could remember, Winchester had been my only home, and I’d strived to do my best in everything. Someone, I realized, had to be paying for me to attend one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the whole of Europe, and I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to excel at everything I did. I was the perfect student. I’d never been late for class, my dorm room was kept spotless, I handed in assignments before their due date. Never once had I ever done anything wrong.
Well, apart from the time I snuck into the Teacher’s Lounge when the vending machine in the Student Common room broke down, but it wasn’t my fault the faculty didn’t bother to hide the information…very well. And I might have gone through teacher/student files every once and again. One does get awfully bored when everyone else has gone home for the Christmas holidays.
The secretary, Ms. Smith, was a fairly new member of the Winchester faculty. I knew every teacher within the school - the result of being stuck here since nursery. Most of the teachers that I’d had growing up had stayed, but every now and again we’d get someone new. Ms. Smith, for example, who looked fresh out of the College for School Secretary’s, with her neat bun, crisp white blouse and black pencil skirt. Watching her swaying back and trying to figure out how long she’d last kept my mind of the impending doom in the Dean’s office.
Too soon, however, and we were standing in front of the brown oak door, behind which sat the Dean in her office, one of the turrets that made up the corners of Winchester Academy. Ms. Smith knocked on the door and entered after a couple of seconds. I hung back while she notified the Dean that I was here - standard protocol that was imprinted in my mind. There’s only so many times you can read the Winchester Academy for Boys and Girls Rules & Guidelines Handbook before you have it memorized for life. Murmured voices came from inside, and then Ms. Smith reappeared, ushering me in with a small smile on her face. She closed the door behind me, and I glanced back, watching it shut as if I’d been trapped.
I sighed, turning back to face the Dean. It was then I noticed another person in the room. She was standing by the window next to the Dean’s desk, staring out as if something within the grounds had caught her attention. As the Dean spoke, the woman never once turned around.
“Alexa, feel free to take a seat.” The Dean waved her hand in front the empty leather chair in front of her desk. I shook my hand in rejection.
“I’d rather stand, thanks.” Unlike most students, I felt comfortable around the Dean. She was a firm lady, but kind at the same time. Her grey-streaked black hair fell into a wave on her shoulders, and she tended to wear neutral colours like white and beige. Her office was always neat and tidy, but full of books, especially the Academy’s yearbooks, and various trophies won by the many clubs and teams over the centuries.
“You are probably wondering why I’ve called you into my office. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” the Dean smiled. “I have someone here who is very interested to meet you. Alexa, this is Madame Mawdsley.”
The woman turned around at the sound of her name. She was older than I had originally thought, with short grey hair and a motherly yet stern look about her. She smiled at me, but her smile didn’t have the same warmth as the Dean’s - it was more professional, direct.
The Dean cleared her throat. “I’ll get out of your way. Would you like anything to drink, Alexa?” she asked. I noticed there was a cup of coffee on the table already for Mme Mawdsley.
“Water would be great,” I replied, licking my dry lips. The Dean left, closing the door softly behind her.
“Sit, please, Alexa,” Mme Mawdsley urged. This time I obeyed; this lady seemed like the type not to be messed with.
“Am I supposed to know you?” I asked, rather cheekily. I started to feel rather annoyed. If this lady was some relation, she shouldn’t have bothered with the introductions, considering how long I’d gone not knowing if I had any relations at all.
She laughed lightly. “No, you don’t know who I am, nor are you supposed to know.”
I furrowed my eyebrows. “Then why are you here?”
I was being rude, I know, but I didn’t actually get this woman’s point.
“I’m here, Alexa, to fill you in on your past, and how it’s about to affect your future.”
I sat up. She was connected to my past. I knew it, I just knew it. The woman smiled again, knowing she had my full attention. I didn’t even notice when someone came in and set a glass of water in front of me. One minute it wasn’t there, the next it was.
“What do you know about my past?” I asked carefully. The woman picked up her cup of coffee and took a sip from it.
“Everything. I know who your parents were. I know when you were born, I know where. I’ve watched you, Alexa Bond, as you’ve grown up from being a young girl with blonde pigtails to the woman you are today. I was there when you won the National Schools Fencing Championships - three years in a row.”
I knew my mouth was hanging open, and I knew that it was rude to stare. How did she know that? How did I not know that she was there?
The only thing that came out of my mouth was “How?”
Mme Mawdsley leant back against the window ledge, as if she was settling in. I continued watching her every move carefully, waiting for her to speak.
“I knew your father.”
I'm not sure, we'll see how it goes!!
