It's Not Fair! Chapter 2

Back when Matthew’s mum had still spoken to him from time to time, she’d told him to watch out which group of people he got in with at school.
“Try and avoid the total losers,” she’d said. “Even if they’re quite nice people, you won’t get anywhere.” And he’d never been able to decide if this was a dig at his dad or not.
He hadn’t been sure if his mum would have rated Charlie as a loser or not – he hadn’t seen her in a school setting to be able to judge it. Now he was meeting Hanako, Charlie’s best friend, and completely re-assessing Charlie’s position in the school social circles. “You played the violin eight hours a day for two weeks solid?”
Hanako shrugged. “Yes. And then there were performances, master classes, lectures…”
Charlie smiled to herself. Fiercely competent, hugely individual – Hanako took some living up to. And some getting used to! “And these are the fish tanks. This is where your dad will be all day!” Charlie’s dad had given them passes to see round the breeding area – Matthew hadn’t really known much about his dad’s new job.
“They’re breeding for increased tolerances – greater temperature ranges and so on. Then the fish go back to their own country. The idea is to improve native breeds, make them hardier, more fertile, whatever.” “So this is GM stuff?” Matthew hadn’t really paid much attention to his father’s talk about his new job.
“No! No genetic modification at all – that’s the whole point of it. Just cross-breeding in the sort of controlled conditions that the original countries can’t provide. That’s why the salaries aren’t amazing. It’s all aimed at developing countries. No huge commercial promise, but it changes people’s lives for the better, little by little.”
Charlie obviously thought this was worth doing. And Hanako was nodding too, in agreement. But Matthew’s mum had almost seemed to despise his dad for not earning more, not respect him for what he was working on. The two girls took Matthew to the diner near the RMB laboratories.
“Dad used to bring Daisy and I here for a treat when we were little. She says it’s ‘like, so not coolsville’ now, but I still enjoy it! So, go on. Before we eat! Let’s all have a go on the bronco.”
“As long as you promise not to tell my parents. You know how they fuss about me injuring myself,” Hanako said.
Matthew looked puzzled, and Charlie explained. “Injure your hand or your arm, and you can’t practise. She does a good three hours a day. That’s a lot of no practice if she’s hurt herself.” “Hey, you’re good,” Hanako said admiringly.
“I can actually ride,” Matthew admitted, a little jerkily.
“Oh of course – that’s an Eleigh stables top you’re wearing, isn’t it. Do you work there?”
“No. I live there. Bryony Eleigh’s my new stepmother.” There. He’d admitted it to them at last, and he felt strangely liberated. Charlie was nowhere near as competent! But she shrieked with laughter and thoroughly enjoyed herself. “You’re supposed to grip with your knees,” Matthew called out, helpfully. Charlie had no breath left at all to answer him!
They all ate together at the diner. “Last bit of freedom,” Hanako said mournfully. “Once school starts I have no free weekday evenings at all.”
“Well, you could always give up on the vile din,” Charlie said, teasing her. Hanako threatened her with the tomato sauce. “Of course, plum is still the new pink. Honestly, Mum, you’re like, so not up to nowsville. Now is all about a pop of plum. Like in my hair. And the polka dots are, like, retro but re-interpreted.”
“So where did this dress come from?”
“You know Grandma H loves sewing.” Charlie had been dreading the day Matthew finally met Daisy. He was bound to think Daisy was prettier, better, brighter…but it didn’t work out like that at all. It was a late Saturday afternoon, and all three of them were free together. They’d been in the garage, admiring Charlie’s latest painting before going out to the cinema. Then Daisy, Chloe and Poppy all came into the garage together. “Tell Mum we’re all going to Poppy’s for tea, will you.” Daisy was just ordering Charlie around, Matthew thought. And her tone of voice reminded him of someone. “I see you’re all dressed up to go out.”
Charlie fought back – he’d give her that. “That dress really suits you. Dotty. Very you.”
“Well, what would you know about current fashion? Let’s face it, looking good for you is like, impossiblesville. Polka dots are, like, the current micro-trend.”
“I thought it was plum from head to foot.”
“Oh, that’s so last Tuesday.” Hanako weighed in on Charlie’s side. “Derivative.”
Secretly, Daisy was afraid of Hanako’s sense of style.
“Mainstream. High street trends are not micro-trends.” And then Hanako smirked quietly to herself as Daisy was left speechless. She was a bit sorry that Poppy and Chloe looked uncomfortable, but not very. Daisy flounced off in a huff, her acolytes in tow. “Is she always that awful to you?” Matthew demanded. He knew now who Daisy reminded him of.
“Oh, that’s just her way,” Charlie said good-naturedly. But Matthew was seeing something more than sibling bickering.
“Hanako?” Matthew asked her for her opinion, and Charlie expected Hanako to say that, yeah, Daisy was just like that, and it couldn’t be helped.
“Yes, she is always like that. She runs Charlie down at every opportunity, and Charlie believes it.” “I don’t,” Charlie protested.
“Who do you think is prettier? Who do you think is better to be seen with?” Hanako had been wanting to say this for a while, and now it looked like she had some support. “Who has the biggest bedroom, even though she’s the youngest? Who gets the best presents from Grandma and Grandpa H?”
Charlie hung her head.
“It’s time you stood up for yourself, and said that you minded.”
Matthew agreed. He’d seen what happened when people didn’t stand up for themselves – with his own father. Daisy had reminded him of his mum, niggling and picking at his dad until his dad thought he was a total failure.
“What are we going to do about this?” Hanako – cool, reserved Hanako – was being surprisingly passionate. “Any ideas?”
“It’s time Charlie started asking for her fair share of things…” “Mum, how come you bought Daisy a new dress, and didn’t get me anything?”
Hanako and Matthew’s indignation on her behalf had begun to make Charlie think that there was something amiss.
“Grandma H made it for her.” Jonquil was slightly apologetic – it did seem a bit uneven, that Daisy got new clothes and Charlie didn’t. But they’d both needed new school uniforms: two years of hard wear had killed off their previous ones, and that hadn’t left any spare money. “Really? And she made on just like it for Poppy as well? But didn’t offer to make anything for me?”
Jonquil paused suddenly. “Poppy had one the same?”
“Yes. And it didn’t do much for her. And poor Chloe was in full cowgirl rig, with Daisy saying that was so last Tuesday.” Charlie wasn’t happy, and it was showing. “Charlie. Let me ask my mother about this. Let it lie until I have, please.”
It was one thing for her mother to make clothes for Daisy – who, let’s face it, appreciated it – but if she was going to do it for Daisy’s friends but not Charlie, then that was another matter. And one that she wasn’t too pleased about. As she cleaned the sink, Jonquil faced up to the fact that she was going to have to confront her mother about what was going on. Like Charlie, she was easy-going and didn’t enjoy conflict. But her mother’s too-obvious preference for Daisy was beginning to cause real trouble between the girls. She’d never known Charlie to make a protest like she had the other night, so it must matter to her, that only Daisy was getting new clothes. Maybe Charlie was finally beginning to care about how she looked? And Charlie’s comment about the holiday money niggled too. “I’m going over to my mother’s house. Can you do the meal?”
David pulled his mind back from the theory he was exploring. “Why? Are they all right?” His eyes dropped to the page again.
“I need to talk to my mother. Listen. This is what she’s been doing.” “But that’s just not on.” David didn’t often get cross, but now he was seriously annoyed, and Jonquil didn’t blame him.
“I know.” Both her voice and her face were strained. “But I can’t let this go on, can I? I’m going to have to say something.”
“Talk to your dad as well. First, in fact. He’s fond of both the girls.”
“Yes, but…” And there it was, the thing that lay between them. Would he stand up to Cynthia or not? Usually he didn’t.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“Better not. You know she doesn’t like you much! I still don’t know why she suddenly stopped objecting to me getting engaged to you!”
“I think your dad put his foot down for once. He could see how much you loved me!” “So how much holiday money did you give Daisy?”
“Well, a little more than I gave Lottie – dear Daisy cares about clothes, which Lottie doesn’t. Which reminds me – I’m just about to start planning their Christmas party dresses. Let me show you…” Her mother was trying to slide out of answering, and Jonquil’s heart sank. “I thought this cream, green and lilac print for Daisy. Something simple and elegant, perhaps, as she’s so pleasingly slim. Lottie, alas, inherited your figure – and not even your colouring! And she’s still so distressingly tomboyish! Something that says, ‘I’m a girl’, I think…”
“Mum. How much more did you give to Daisy? It’s not fair if she gets a lot more than Charlie, and David and I need to make it up to her.”
But her mother’s face set in that mulish, disapproving look that Jonquil knew – and feared – so well.
“I don’t want to argue with you. And if I choose to give Daisy a little extra, why does that matter?” Jonquil seized a quick word with her father before she left – and before her mother came into the room – but he was apologetic.
“I can’t really stop her, Jonnie my dear.”
“Well, can you try and find out how much extra she gave Daisy, then?”
“I’ll do my best,” he said, dubiously. Jonquil wasn’t the only one thinking about Charlie, and the imbalance between her and Daisy. Matthew (in between focussing on the horse he was schooling) and Hanako were both hatching plans to even things up a bit too. And they didn’t have to worry about how Grandma H would react.

It's Not Fair! Chapter 1

“Who’s about to leave their homework behind on the bench?!
“Me. Sorry. Thanks, Dad.” Charlie was busy eating her breakfast as fast as she could – the school bus was nearly due.
“And I need a favour from one of you at the end of the summer holidays. I’ve a new colleague starting at the lab, and his son’s going to be going to your school. Will one of you show him round the town a bit and so on?” “The last two weeks? But that’s the only time Chloe and me and Poppy are all here together. Dad, that’s not fair! I can’t miss out on seeing my bezzies for someone I don’t even know.”
“I don’t mind,” Charlie said through a mouthful of pancake. “Hanako’s at her violin camp. As long as I don’t have to see too much of him if I really don’t like him.”
“That’s reasonable,” her dad agreed. “Thanks, Charlie.” “Mum, my bedroom really needs like, updating. I mean, look at it! A unicorn bed? That’s so stint. It’s like, totally babiesville.”
“It was also like, totally expensiveville, as I remember,” her mother said drily.
“Yeah, well, Grandma and Grandpa H paid half of it. But I’m, like, ashamed to bring my friends here now. Mum, I need to update. No-one will take me seriously with a unicorn bed.” “The thing is,” Jonnie said to David, “she’s got a point. That room does look babyish.”
“Only because she insisted on having it like that when she was younger. How come she got the bigger bedroom anyway? Charlie’s older.”
“She made a fuss. Charlie didn’t. And my mother gave her that dressing table – it wouldn’t fit into the little bedroom.”
“We could extend, you know – look, the Awabis have, and they’ve only got Hanako.” “Mrs Awabi told me it was so they didn’t have Hanako practising her violin downstairs!”
“I can see their point! Look, the Annottos have built out onto the front.”
“Yes, well, their girls get on so well, they like sharing a bedroom!”
“Point taken.” “Look, that house is extended at the back – bigger kitchen.”
“That would be nice too – shall we extend front and back and upstairs?”
David laughed. “That might work out a bit too expensive.”
“Yes, but it might give us the space we need to keep Daisy and Charlie apart for a bit!” “What can we do to get them to be a bit more civilised with each other?”
David groaned. “I have no idea. What did you say we needed for tonight’s tea? And when are they both due to go away to camp? And why did we say we’d take them on holiday with us?” “Dinner will be ready soon. What’s that you’re painting?”
“It’s a bit of an experiment. But there’s an art competition on at the art gallery next June – I thought I’d like to enter. First prize for my age group is £250 – I wouldn’t mind winning that!”
“Mmm. Sounds like a good idea. Listen – tomorrow, can you go with Dad and meet Matthew? And take him round the town a bit? Grandmère says you can go to their house for coffee and cakes, so that will give you somewhere to head for.”
“Okay. I don’t mind. After lunch though? I want to paint again in the morning.” Watering the garden for his new stepmother, Matthew thought about the day ahead of him. Someone had said to him that the Saxtead girl was “like, totally hot”, which sounded promising – seeing round this place with a “like, totally hot” girl might be better than doing it on his own. “You will put something else on, won’t you, before you go out with Dad?”
“What does it matter what I wear?” Charlie was beginning to regret her offer: the painting was taking shape under her brush.
“Yeah, like you could look good anyway. Mum, can I have money for lunch out, please?”
“And what do you look like? I see you’ve been doubling the electricity bill again with your hair straighteners. And what’s with the purple hat, cowgirl?”
“Everyone who’s anyone knows plum is the new pink. You’re just jealous because you couldn’t look pretty…” “That’s enough!” It was Jonquil’s I-mean-it tone of voice, and both girls shut up, though they went on glaring at each other. “And where did those clothes come from? I don’t remember buying them for you.”
“I bought them for myself – with the holiday money Grandma H gave me.” “Okay, I’ll get changed if I really must," Charlie said to her still slightly cross mother. "Don’t know how she bought all those clothes from ten quid of holiday money though.”
“Is that what Grandma H gave you?” Jonquil inquired mildly enough, her irritation subsiding.
Charlie nodded. “And before you ask, yes I sent her a thank you note.”
“Good girl,” Jonquil said teasingly. “And Charlie – thanks for going with your dad today.” This was not Matthew’s idea of a “like, totally hot” girl at all. And Charlie for her part couldn’t get over the size of the place. He must be stinking rich! Surely he’d be going to some fancy private school somewhere? They got off to a sticky start. And then when Matthew sloped off to his room, leaving his stepmother talking to Charlie, she sent Charlie up with a pile of clean washing to find him. He did sort of wish he’d tidied up a bit…but Charlie didn’t seem to notice the mess. She’d spotted the posters – and the CDs. “Hey, do you like greenstone? I love their stuff. Which album do you like best?”
He hadn’t meant to be rude, but there had been so much upheaval lately that he was permanently defensive. “I thought girls your age only liked boy bands.”
Fortunately she laughed, instead of taking offence. “That’s my sister. I’ve got better taste.”
A sister! Charlie had a sister! Perhaps she was the looker. How could he find out? Matthew thought fast.
“I think someone might have pointed her out to me. What does she look like?”
“Well, it varies from day to day. Today she was channelling her inner cowgirl – purple Stetson and all. Nothing like me is probably the answer to your question.” “There you are – that’s where we’ll both be in ten days’ time. It’s all still pretty shiny new.”
“The uniform’s okay too – but I thought I saw some kids in a really weird uniform when I visited back in June.”
“Ah, that’s the other school. I’ll get Grandpère to tell you about it. But I’ll take you to Thornham Park first.” “What on earth is that?” On the way to the park, Charlie had stopped to show Matthew the art gallery.
“It’s Art, Matthew,” she said solemnly, and then giggled as he snorted in disbelief. “It’s Andreo Montano’s latest site-specific installation, and it’s called Time’s Ghosts.”
“Whaddya mean, site-specific installation?”
“Well, obviously, those retro petrol pumps wouldn’t look right outside a Victorian building, but here, a building put up at the dawn of The Age Of The Motor Car, they speak of…”
“I’ve heard enough!” But there was a laugh in his voice, and for the first time in ages he was enjoying himself. “Now this is total Victoriana!” Matthew eyed up the bandstand, the glass houses, the massed flower beds.
“Yep. We have free concerts in the bandstand every Sunday afternoon – really free, I mean. Anyone can book an hour and do a performance. Do you play anything?” After all, he was a greenstone fan – that argued he was musical.
“Drums,” Matthew admitted. “What about you?”
“Piano. At school and at Grandmère’s. We haven’t got room for one at home.”
"So, are your grandparents French?"
“No. But Grandmère’s mother was, and Grandmère is much more French than English. Grandpère’s English all the way through. But you know how it is – you need different names for the two sets of grandparents.”
Charlie hadn’t been what Matthew was expecting – and neither was her grandfather! The car looked like a heap of junk to Matthew’s inexperienced eyes, but Jonathan assured him it would – one day! – run again.
“I’m much further on with it than people realise!” To his surprise, Matthew found himself talking to Charlie’s grandfather in a way he hadn’t talked to anyone for a while. It was partly the age gap – and partly Jonathan’s gentle but shrewd questions.
“Changes are never easy.” Jonathan’s eyes were kind. “The challenge is always not to let the changes change us for the worse.” Charlie showed him the tree-house Grandpère had built for her and Daisy.
“Though I don’t think she ever went into it. But I loved it!” She grinned reminiscently. “The first time I went in it, I emptied a bucket of water over her head.” “Lift the patisseries over, Charlie. And also, find yourself a chair.” Charlie’s grandmother did sound French.
“Grandmère! Patisseries!”
“For your coming, I made them.”
“I have a joke for you, Charlie,” her grandfather announced. Matthew wondered why his wife groaned.
“What do chemists eat for breakfast?”
“I don’t know, Grandpère. What do chemists eat for breakfast?”
“Boyled eggs.”
Charlie shook her head, but Matthew laughed, and began to tell terrible jokes on his own account. “Frappez. Frappez.”
“Qui est là?” Charlie asked, laughing at him.
“Losta.”
“Losta qui?” her grandmother asked, also smiling.
“Yes – that’s why I’m knocking.” Everyone groaned! “Grandpère said I had to show you this end of Rowansford as well,” Charlie said to Matthew a couple of days later. “It’s all his old stamping grounds. His family have lived here for ages – in that house, too.”
“It’s…impressive,” said Matthew, looking at the library. But he was enjoying his trips round Rowansford with Charlie – and enjoying getting to know her grandparents as well.
“Yeah. His great-great grandfather built and endowed it, and it hasn’t changed much since then. Come and look inside.” “It’s not much like the library up at your end of town.” He didn’t say “our end of town,” Charlie noticed.
“I know. Though they have tried to modernise it a bit.” Charlie waved one arm in the direction of the obviously new children’s corner, where a thin and shabby-looking young woman was sitting on the floor with a small child.
“It used to be books from floor to ceiling everywhere. And the stock’s still – unique, shall we say? You won’t find any chick-lit here, though they do have an enormous collection of detective stories. And the science section is amazing!”
“This was Grandpère’s school. And Grandma and Grandpa H – and loads of other people in the town as well! Dad’s too, but Grandma H sent mum to a private school.”
“What was wrong with this one? “
“Nothing. In fact, it was way better than the one she went to. This is a really good school. But small – it’s way over-subscribed, you have to pass an entrance exam to get in, you have to live in Rownasford…it’s privately endowed, but there’s no fees.”
Matthew knew about the entrance exam – he’d be trying for the sixth form there in a few years’ time. “Are all the houses round here as run-down as this?” So far, Matthew had only seen the prosperous side of Rowansford.
“Pretty much. I guess if all the new ones where we live hadn’t been built, people might have come and lived here. But not everyone wants a long-term DIY project, mum says. I think it’s a bit sad though. And these houses are bigger than ours!” They went right down to the edge of the Breckfleet, and Charlie began skimming stones across it. She was very good at it! After a moment or two, Matthew joined in as well. Charlie was very relaxing and undemanding to be with – and she even laughed at his jokes. Which reminded him…
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?” she asked, laughter and resignation mixing in her voice.
“Amos.”
“Amos who?”
“A mosquito!” “Don’t tell me Grandpère’s got you on with the car now!”
“Don’t tell your mother, but I can see the appeal. Hello, Matthew. Did you have a nice walk?”
“Apart from the dreadful jokes…” Charlie said, answering for him.
“Knock, knock,” he said back to her.
“Who’s there?”
“Anna.”
“Anna who?”
“Anna nother mosquito!”
Charlie groaned. Loudly. So did David. “You tell the worst jokes ever. You’ll like Mr Richards, the chemistry teacher. The school’s not bad, you know.” Disconcertingly, she’d read his thoughts from his face. “And you can meet my other friends – Hanako for one. She’ll be back soon.”
Matthew was beginning to think that maybe school would be okay. Though he still hadn’t met Daisy – and he was becoming more and more curious about her. But Charlie, if she could manage it, wasn’t going to let Matthew meet Daisy. She’d had more than enough of being the what-a-pity-you’re-not-pretty sister, enough of being in Daisy’s shadow. Her dad and Matthew were swapping more dreadful jokes. She liked this friendship, and she didn’t want to lose it.

Rowansford - The Town.

Rowansford is old. The first settlement was a Bronze Age one, but there’s more evidence of the Anglo-Saxon one – on the island in the middle of the river. There’s four bridges to the island now, but once upon a time there was just the one ford. There are even some stones still standing, and the oldest houses in Rowansford are all on the island too. As time went on, farms were built on the surrounding land, and the forest cleared to make way for plough and pasture. And Rowansford remained, essentially, little more than a village for many years. The Black Death passed it by, the river and the island keeping the villagers safe from outside infection, and the village remained much the same size until the railway arrived in Victorian times. And, with the railway, came the Victorians themselves – wealthy manufacturers for the most part, who wanted to live in the clean air of the countryside and yet be able to get to their manufacturies in the nearby town with ease. Rowansford suited them ideally. They beautified it, with a large park, complete with bandstand and glasshouses. They built themselves large houses for their large families, and passed a raft of by-laws to keep Rowansford as unspoilt as possible. The farms prospered, with the new markets that the railway made possible, and Rowansford became a quietly wealthy place. In the 1920’s, there was a further flush of building, as people wearied from the war wanted to retreat to a calmer, quieter place. But, thanks to those by-laws, the building was limited, and Rowansford remained pretty and desirable. And then Dr Beeching swung his axe, and the railway line was closed. The houses in the cheaper part of town began to be run down, neglected and decaying. The farms became less prosperous, and the heart slowly went out of Rowansford. There was still wealth in parts of Rowansford, but many of the big houses were simply abandoned, particularly the ones deeper out into the surrounding countryside. And then RMB laboratories moved into the area. It started life as a simple tin shack – later, it got proper breezeblock walls – a shoestring operation with a couple of small grants, a bold vision, and a lot of determination and good will. Twenty years later, the new facilities totally overshadowed the original shed – but they still kept it, still used it daily. Other companies were beginning to follow RMB laboratories, and the mostly disused farmland round the RMB site was being bought up and built on. And, finally, new houses were being built again at Rowansford. A new estate – mostly housing RMB workers! – had sprung up. Along with a new school, new shops, a new library – the old Victorian ones were on the other side of the town. Rowansford was waking up from its fifty year decline and coming back to life once more.
And behind the doors of the houses in the various parts of town, new stories were unfolding, waiting to be told.
The first of them – It’s Not Fair! – introduces some of the Rowansford inhabitants, and their lives in a changing town.
Link here: http://samelasstories.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/its-not-fair-prologue.html