I noticed from the first building to my right, a dim light was shining. It was coming from one of the windows and I wondered if I was been watched.
Suddenly a voice rang out.
“You’re here, you’re here. Please, you must get out of the cold! Oh, I do apologise. I wasn’t expecting you for another half an hour.”
A strange looking lady was walking very quickly towards me.
“Oh dear!” she exclaimed as she came to a complete stop, gasping for air. She was on the heavy side and short, with dark curly hair and porcelain white skin with a big smile plastered across her face, she wore an unflattering white dress with red stripes. A little red cardigan tightly covered her shoulders and matching shiny red ballet flats protected her feet from the cold.
“Oh! Dear, I must say, I am quite unfit,” she admitted. Her cheeks were so rosy. As she reached me, still gasping for air, she did the unthinkable. She hugged me! It was not a gentle hug either, more of a heavy embrace that almost stopped my circulation. When she finally pulled away, she started rambling again.
“My name is Julie Kent, but please call me Jules. We are going to be such great friends. I have organised everything. Your room is next door to mine. Mr Kemp, the science teacher, was a bit sore that he had to move down the hall but he will soon recover. You must be so tired and hungry. Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m fine,” I replied, glad she had finally drawn breath to let me get a word in.
“Oh, I have longed for another female teacher, and here you are, finally! I will have another woman on my side. Between you and me, some of our gentlemen teachers here were born in the dark ages and, if I may say, a bit conservative. Oh, but not our principal, James, oh I beg your pardon, Mr Barclay. We are very lucky to have him. Indeed he is younger than our last principal and one must never ask about age of course,” she said as she smiled, grabbed one of my luggage bags and started walking back through the door from whence she came.
I immediately followed with the other bag, walking directly behind her.
What a character! I hope I have a lock on my door…
“Come in, come in. This is the main building, our ‘foyer’ if you like. I will take you straight to your room to settle in. I will collect you for breakfast in half an hour or so,” she asserted as she went up the stairs, recklessly banging my new suitcase on every step.
“Miss Kent… oh, I mean Jules, I ate on the plane and am quite full,” I interrupted. I was not ready to have breakfast with everyone.
“I see…” She sounded unconvinced. “I will take you to your room where you can unpack and freshen up, and I will come and collect you in a few hours for a tour,” she continued.
“Perfect!” I agreed with a smile.
Lucky for me and my bags, I only had to go up one flight of stairs for my room. The corridor was long and narrow and the lighting was dimmed. The doors spaciously spread out with stunning decorative wall lamps and beautiful artwork between every few. The doors were stained in a deep dark cedar with ornate carvings and a number in polished gold on each door.
“Catherine dear, this is your room, number two, and I am next door to you in room number three. Our wonderful principal, Mr Barclay, is in room number one on your other side. You are completely surrounded! You can’t escape! Just teasing!” she joked, all the while laughing hysterically. She was very touchy-feely, constantly grabbing my arm, squeezing my hand and it was making me feel somewhat uncomfortable. I was only ever relaxed with my mother’s hands around me; even my few failed attempts at relationships were cut short due to my so-called lack of affection.
Finally, Jules gave me the key to my room and a quick reminder that she would be back to collect me in a couple of hours for my tour. As soon as she was out of sight, I opened my door, took my bags in and closed the door, locking it from the inside.
At last I was in my room and it was unbelievable. In the centre of one wall in the room stood a four-post bed with pale blue and silver linen and an abundance of differently-shaped pillows and cushions. Small timber bedside tables with four drawers sat on each side with a lamp on one. A matching freestanding cupboard stood on the other side of the room along with the most exquisite little writing desk and chair. And from the ceiling hung a beautiful chandelier. The walls were lined in a beautiful rich timber panelling on the lower side, with the upper part lavishly wallpapered and a gorgeous decorative mirror on one wall perfectly framed the reflection of the room. The door across from me was equally beautiful and, it was safe to assume, led to the bathroom.
I half unpacked my belongings, and then went across to the window to catch a glimpse of the outlook from my new home. I looked out to the grounds. The weather was grey, but the scenery was magnificent. The deep green grassland went for miles and from here I could see the full extent of the college’s flawlessly groomed gardens that seemed to spread out for several acres. So many different shades of green blended effortlessly into the distant horizon. I gazed out the window for a while until I started to feel restless. I yawned and stretched out my arms. I took off my blazer and boots and jumped onto my bed. I felt spoilt. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, just to rest them. I decided to remain lying down with my eyes closed until Jules and all her enthusiasm came to collect me.
My breathing became deep and definite. I felt my mind drift and my body admit defeat. I can’t recall ever being as exposed or as vulnerable as I am now — being in a strange country and not knowing a single soul. I am in a different environment in every way possible, yet I have never felt so at home.
I continued to take pleasure in this feeling until my short-lived serenity and contentedness was ended by the sound of a door slamming nearby. I sat up quickly. It must have been Jules next door.
Oh no, Jules! What time was it?
I searched for my mobile phone to see, but I couldn’t find it in my half-unpacked state. I decided to just head out and see if I could find her, but for some reason the door wouldn’t open. I played around with the key, but still nothing. It seemed to be jammed. I grabbed hold of the doorknob tightly and with all my strength pulled it open.
“Ahh!” I screamed in pain as I fell backwards to the floor, hitting the back of my head on the end of the timber bedpost, doorknob in hand. The pain shot through my head, immediately throbbing. It was unbearable, I felt sick. I held on to the back of my head, applying pressure while trying to moan quietly. With one hand on the back of my head and the other helping me crawl across the floor, I headed back to the door.
What have I done?
I tried to put the doorknob back in, but it was useless. The pain was forcing me to shut my eyes; I couldn’t focus enough to put it back in place. I got onto my knees and with both hands carefully attempted to fix it. I then noticed there was blood on my hand. Panicking, I accidentally pushed out the handle from the other side into the hallway, making matters worse.
Damn it!
Displeased with myself, I sat down on the floor in front of the door and held onto the back of my head to stop the bleeding. My cursing was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. If the pain wasn’t going to kill me, my humiliation surely would if anyone heard or saw me right now.