The New Girls

The children are all streaming towards the school doors and the other mums and dads have long gone, but I’m still there, half-hiding behind the school gate as I watch Chloe wander into school. She walks alone, and my heart twists inside me as I see two girls near her join arms and skip towards the doors. No one even seems to see her, but then why should they? Today is her first day and I know how that goes. No matter what age you are, it is so brutally hard to be the new girl.

I watch her lonely progression to the door, and then my heart lightens just a little bit as a kindly teacher bends down to say hello, and then puts a friendly arm around Chloe’s thin shoulders. It’s not the same as a friend her own age, but at least it’s a start.

Sighing, I turn away from the school and start my own lonely walk home. We’ve been in this little market town for over a month, but I still don’t know anybody. Not really know, although people have been friendly enough. Lots of hellos and smiling nods, but as a for a real conversation? A proper friend? I know that takes time, if it happens at all, and I’m afraid that it won’t for Chloe.

Matt rings me on my mobile just as I’ve reached our street. ‘Chloe get off all right, then?’ he asks, cheerfully, because as far as he’s concerned everything is going to come up roses.

I swallow past the tightness in my throat. ‘Yes. As well as could be expected.’

‘You sound like a doctor giving a rather grim prognosis.’

I feel like one too. ‘Moving is hard, Matt--’

‘I know, Jess.’

But he doesn’t really know, and that’s part of what I love about him. He grew up in the same town his whole life, even in the same house. When we met at age nineteen, I’d already lived in fourteen different cities around the world. My father was an engineer who worked on various short-term projects, and Mum and I went with him. She told me it was the best kind of education I could have had, but all I’ve ever wanted is a place I could call my own, a place that felt permanent, with flowers I could watch come up year after year and curtains on every window.

We had that place, Matt and I, for ten years, until this job opportunity came up and he asked me if we could move. I was incredulous, and then devastated.

‘But you promised,’ I said, knowing I sounded like a child, yet unable to keep the words bottled up inside. Matt had always known I wanted to stay put. I’d made it clear from the beginning, and I’d always thought he felt the same. We’d talked about Chloe one day getting married in the local church, having the reception in our garden. ‘Your parents are going to be devastated,’ I added, for they lived just a few minutes’ walk away. Matt smiled and shook his head.

‘Actually, they’re thrilled for me. This is a really good opportunity, Jess.’

‘I see.’ His parents’ support shouldn’t feel like a betrayal, and I knew that there shouldn’t be sides. Yet from the moment Matt mentioned the possibility to me, it felt like a battle line had been drawn.

Matt launched a persuasive campaign. He planned a day out to Seaton, the small market town near the company branch were he’d be working in IT. And it was a lovely town, I had to admit. A big green in the centre, a charming high street, affordable houses in walking distance of a primary school that had received very good reports. Matt had even called round an estate agent’s, and got the listing of several possible properties, all larger, nicer, and cheaper than where we lived now.

All of it should have cheered me, and I think Matt expected it to. He stood gazing at me hopefully as I walked round the garden of one of the houses, the birds twittering cheerfully and the sky a hazy, fragile blue.

‘There’s an apple tree--do you see? You’ve always wanted one.’

‘We could plant one at home,’ I said, knowing I sounded sulky.

‘And room for a proper vegetable garden--we can’t have that back in Gosfield.’

‘I’m on the waiting list for an allotment--’

‘Jess.’ Matt stared at me in kindly exasperation. ‘Can’t you at least think about making this work? Seeing the bright side of things?’

‘But there is no bright side for me,’ I burst out. ‘I don’t care how large the garden is, Matt, or how good the school. I don’t want to move, even if we’re moving to the most fantastic place in the world. I don’t want to start over. I thought you understood that.’ I gazed at him, feeling perilously close to tears. ‘I’ve moved enough for two lifetimes already. I know what it’s like.’ Just the thought of starting over again made my stomach churn with nerves and misery swamp me. Didn’t Matt understand that? I thought he had. I’d been so honest about how difficult I’d found moving as a child, the endless parade of new schools, homes, and people, never staying long enough to make a proper friend. He’d been so sympathetic--how could this sudden change of plans not feel like a betrayal?

‘Oh, Jess.’ Matt enveloped me in a hug which was exactly what I needed. I gave a loud sniff as I pressed my cheek against his coat. ‘I’m sorry. I suppose I’ve been so chuffed about this job opportunity that I didn’t stop to think. If you are really set against moving anywhere, I’ll turn the job down.’

Surprised, I leaned back to study his face. ‘Do you mean that?’

‘Of course I do.’

And the worst part was, I knew he did. How could I force him to turn down the job opportunity of a lifetime just because I didn’t want to move? Sighing, I shook my head. ‘Let’s take a look at the upstairs again.’

Over the next few weeks, as we prepared to completely upend our life, I tried to put a brave face on it for Matt’s sake. I enthused over the house we’d finally chosen, with its large garden and not one but two apple trees. I spoke cheerfully to Chloe, who, in her exuberant way, seemed as excited about moving as Matt did.

‘At least you don’t need to worry about Chloe,’ Matt said, and I tried to smile.

‘I’ll always worry about Chloe.’ I kept myself from adding that she was excited only because she didn’t know how horrible starting over could be. She’d been going to the same school her life; she didn’t know what it meant to be the new girl.

I did. Even now, picturing Chloe’s lonely progression towards the school doors, memories wash over me, an endless litany of lunches eaten alone, recesses spent standing against the wall or fence, watching as everyone else laughed and played. Sometimes I’d felt invisible.

There had been a few bright moments, of course, and a few friendly faces over the years, but just when it seemed as if I might actually be making a proper friend we’d moved again. Eventually I’d stopped trying. It was easier to accept loneliness than to keep starting over and over, especially as I got older. When you’re five a best friend can be made in a day. Not so when you’re fifteen.

As I let myself into the house, I tell myself it will be different for Chloe. She’s only ten, after all, and we won’t be moving on in a few months or years the way my family kept doing. It might be hard at first, but she’ll get there. She’ll make friends. Even so I can’t keep the anxiety from gnawing away at me all day. Around noon I glance at the clock and wonder if she is eating lunch alone. Out in the garden I hear the cries of laughter from the school playground just two streets away, and wonder if Chloe’s voice is among the children.

By the time three o’clock rolls around, I’ve worked myself into a right state. Silly, I know, or so I tell myself, but you can’t just stop feeling something because you know it doesn’t make sense. At least I can’t. I join the stream of parents approaching the school gate, feeling both conspicuous and invisible, just like I did all those years ago in school. Everyone is chatting, comparing summer holidays, moaning about the recent spate of rain. No one talks to me. I keep my chin up and forge ahead, searching for Chloe in the spill of children in the school yard.

I don’t find her at first, because I am looking for a lone figure. Then I hear her call, and in surprise I watch her run towards me. She is holding hands with a girl her own age, a girl with a gap-toothed smile and a spattering of freckles.

‘Mum, Mum, can I go over to Sophie’s tomorrow? For tea?’

I blink. ‘I suppose so, we’ll have to ask her mum--’

‘I will,’ Sophie says eagerly, and runs off. I smile at Chloe, amazed at how different her experience has been to mine.

‘Did you have a good day, sweetheart?’

‘It was fantastic,’ Chloe says happily. ‘And Sophie wants me to see her brand new guinea pig.’

‘Really,’ I murmur, and then turn in surprise at the sound of a cheery greeting.

‘Hello, ‘I’m Steph, Sopie’s mum,’ a woman says. She has the same freckles and smile as her daughter. ‘And you’re Chloe’s mum?’

‘Yes--I’m Jess.’

‘Welcome to Seaton!’ Steph’s smile widens. ‘I hear these two want to get together after school. Would you like to bring Sophie round tomorrow, and stay for a coffee?’

‘Oh.’ I am so surprised I don’t speak for a moment. ‘Why yes,’ I finally manage, ‘that would be brilliant.’

In that moment I realise I’ve been as afraid and anxious for myself as I am for my daughter. Starting over, it seems, isn’t hard for Chloe. It’s hard for me. I didn’t want to be the new girl again.

Yet as I smile back at Steph, I think that maybe this time it doesn’t have to be so hard to make friends. I won’t be invisible, and I won’t act as if I am.

‘See you tomorrow,’ Steph calls as she and Sophie start down the street, and Chloe slips her hand into mine.

‘I like it here,’ she says with a happy sigh, and I squeeze her hand.

‘You know what, Chloe? I think I do too,’ I say, and hand in hand we start for home.