When asked about schooldays, she’ll only say, ‘Finding myself took time.’
***
The invitation to the fifty-year reunion languished in a drawer until Martin discovered it and Olivia admitted she was disinclined to go. He usually avoided events that weren’t job-related, but misinterpreting her reluctance, said encouragingly. ‘I’ll come, then you won’t be alone.’
She’d eventually accepted and was now in the school assembly hall waiting for Martin to return with drinks. Scanning the crowd, Olivia recognised faces she hadn’t wanted to see. There was Beccy – standing with her “In Crowd”. Olivia’s throat tightened painfully, recalling years of dread and exclusion, and her heart raced. Those women, no longer teenagers who’d made her so ostracised, appeared faded and elderly, but seeing them so aged gave no satisfaction. Dormant emotions resurfaced.
***
At twelve, she’d been a traumatised, bespectacled, “carrot-top” who’d moved to live with grandparents in Somerset after her parents were killed in a car crash. Arriving from Newcastle, with a pronounced “Geordie” accent, she’d become the butt of spiteful derision every time she’d spoken. Unhappy and humiliated, she grew silent. Then puberty arrived, accompanied by greasy hair, spotty skin and a changing body making her taller than her peers. The addition of hated, dental braces made her afraid to smile and the “In Crowd” encouraged others to treat her as a pariah. For six years, she was friendless, anxious and intimidated.
At sixteen she developed a crush on Peter, the handsome, school athletic star. She’d fantasised about him, until the day she passed Beccy and Peter in the quadrangle, and Beccy swung her heavy satchel deliberately into Olivia’s side. When Olivia gasped in pain, the others walked away, with Beccy hissing, ‘Freak.’ Both sniggered and Peter sneered, ‘Just breathtakingly ordinary.’
Miserable years dragged on until, with relief, school days became history.
Ultimately, braces were lost and contact lenses found. The oil wells of puberty dried, and university results gained her a position as researcher for a television network. She was tenacious, discreet and valued. When Martin, the Chief Content Officer, watched her comfort a young woman who’d failed her job interview, he was entranced by her lovely hair and gentle manner. He invited her for lunch, fell in love, and within a year they were married. Today, Martin is recognisable as the network’s CEO. Olivia’s hair has turned stunningly silver, and her height gives her an aura of elegance. The once sad, ugly duckling is a designer-clad, confident, and serenely, dignified swan.
***
An overweight man with a florid face approached her, as Martin negotiated his way back with a wine glass in each hand. Heads swivelled, and people murmured as they recognised Martin, but the flabby man had eyes only for Olivia. ‘Olivia, isn’t it? Peter Grayson. Do you remember?’ His eyes swept over her as he spluttered, ‘Good heavens you’re so … so …’ Before he could find the words, Martin was by her side and smiling at Olivia, provided them for him. ‘Breathtaking, isn’t she?’
Burnside Writers Group 