500 words a day

1054 words - 21st august 2009

She still hated the name – Sapphire – ridiculous. She tried to imagine what she’d be like, Either a posh girl with Mummy and Daddy insisting that she go to finishing school and never letting her hang around with common types like her, OR, someone from the council estates who were using the tried and tested and unsuccessful, as far as she knew, formula of giving your kids what you thought was a fancy name in order to help them towards a better more shining future as close as possible to the lives of the rich and famous you saw on Tv or in the trashy papers and magazines.





Her Mum told her not to be cruel to her, knowing what she could be like, it was a war now, something you don’t know anything about, nor me frankly, but of course Granddad did, as he often told them. You only needed to spend a few minutes in his company before he brandished his wooden leg at you and started to waffle on about the war and how it had all been better then, harder, but better, people had cared more about each other – they had slaughtered each other by the millions of course, but that had made people care more apparently. Her Mum said that she had to not tease him at those times, just let him get it out of his system or he’d get all aereated. She’d never asked her Mum what this was but it always conjured up images of being either punctured or pumped up like a huge balloon. Even though Granddad was a bit of pain she didn’t want either of these things to happen to him. Besides, she quite liked it when he was so exuberant, he got all excited, he jumped up and down on his wooden leg, she could see his face and skin beginning to dampen with sweat and he seemed really funny at those times.


SO anyway, there was a war now, as everyone knew. Although you didn’t see anything apart from a lot more people crying, in the street or behind their closed doors after the postman had delivered another letter from the War department. It was so far away that it seemed as if it wasn’t really happening, even the fact that her Dad had gone, her 2 older brothers had gone and they’d heard nothing from any of them for weeks, didn’t seem to get through to her. So when her Mum said that they were going to have someone living with them, another girl, your sort of age, so she’d said, which turned out to be not true, she was much younger, 11 months younger it turned out. So now she had to spend all her time with a babyish 11 year old with a stupid name like Sapphire. Plus Mum had given her loads of responsibility, good for her so Granddad had chipped in, he lived with them now, had to apparently because we have to all pull together and without your fathers money coming in we can t afford this place on our own you see so Granddad’s pension came in handy. He didn’t do anything but then he’d been in the war so it couldn’t really be expected could it. She’d asked him once why he had a wooden leg when there were loads of other plastic and metal legs, she seen it in science class once before school close down, and  that would probably be better and easier to carry around, he said no, this is my leg now, for better for worse. It seemed to her that it was mainly for worse. It seemed to give him a lot of trouble and pain and when he took it off in front of the telly, which he seemed to do most nights, the stump was all purple and manky and sore looking.


Mum made her rub ointment into it, stops it getting infected love, its hard for him to do it with his arthritis. That was one job she’d be delegating to Sapphire, posh parents or not she thought, as she waited for her under the Arch by the bus station. She was wearing her new school blouse and skirt and felt really stupid as the school was closed now but her mum said she should look smart and there was nothing smarter than a crisp blouse and a well ironed skirt, sets the right tone love. Don’t want her thinking we’re not able to look after ourselves properly do we?





As she waited she started to eat the extra doughnut. She had bought two, one for Sapphire, but couldn’t resist eating the second one before she got there. Just as she finished it she heard the bus coming. There was only one now, the number 53 from Lower Farsborough. She must be on this, she thought, wiping her hands and licking the remnants of sugar off, some of which had fallen on her crisp new blouse.


She imagined Mum and Granddad all waiting excitedly at home in the Marquee Mum had put up n the back garden and the few neighbours invited over to give her a proper welcome, Mrs Johnson from no.32 and the couple from no 34, plus the vicar for some daft reason. They hardly ever went to church and as far as she could see her Mum didn’t ever seem to think about God or any of that sort of thing but she had this weird habit of inviting him round when they had guests.


She hated the vicar. He was all sweaty and had small chubby fingers and insisted on tickling her whenever he saw her even though she was 12 now and not a silly little girl anymore. Maybe Sapphire would get some of that treatment, she was the youngest now.


She saw a girl walking towards her carrying an enormous bag on  her back. She didn’t go and help her but just waited by the Arch as arranged. She looked a bit posh but  a bit nervous too. Her hair was held back by some sort of daft hair band and her shoes were all shiny. Suddenly the idea of being the oldest and being in charge occurred to her and she felt quite excited. Hooray for the war!











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Steve Wybourn





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