found the world rearranged
“How do you think we can help?” Miss Walters asks, and Jenny takes a deep breath, outwardly as calm as can be. She’s rehearsed this, planned in her head the things she needs to say, and however daunting it might be, there’s nothing she can lose that she hasn’t lost already. David, the promise of Oxford, her dignity, they’re all gone now; this is just a way of trying to get something back, to salvage what she can from the wreckage David Goldman left of her life when he drove away in his little maroon sports car without looking back. It’s hope, the last she’s got, and hopeful is what she is when she swallows hard and opens her mouth to speak.
“I want to repeat my last year of school,” she says slowly, calmly, just as she’s told herself she would, “and take my exams.” The request is a simple enough one, or she thinks it should be. Sitting here on the couch in the headmistress’s office, she feels more like a schoolgirl than she thinks she has in a long time, hair pulled back simply, sweater and blouse and skirt plain, modest, carefully chosen. If she’s going to supplicate, she’s going to do so properly, to show that she really means it, demonstrative of the change of heart she’s claiming to have had. It is, of course, one that’s entirely reliant on a change in circumstances, but that part probably goes without saying, anyway.
“I got the impression, last time we spoke, that you didn’t see the point of school, or of me, or of any of us here.”
This, Jenny has prepared for, too. Given her previous impassioned speech -- and she knows full well that it was that, doesn’t even think she’d take all of it back, if outright asked -- it was never going to be as easy as one sentence. She has to make her case, to prove she means it. “I know I was stupid,” she continues, and that much is true, though at least she wasn’t the only one. “The life I want, there is no shortcut. I know now that I need to go to university.”
“It gives me absolutely no pleasure whatsoever to see our young schoolgirls throwing their lives away,” Miss Walters says, then adds lightly, almost as if an afterthought, “although, of course, you are not one of our schoolgirls anymore, through your own volition.”
Despite herself, despite everything, Jenny smiles. “I suppose you think I’m a ruined woman,” she replies, the last two words made slightly exaggerated, the closest to humor that she can manage in the situation. (It is, after all, true.)
Miss Walters laughs around the rim of her teacup, but she doesn’t seem amused. “You’re not a woman,” she says, and Jenny would protest, but she can’t find it in her to say anything, half-expecting what comes next before the words leave the headmistress’s mouth. “No, I’m afraid, I think, that the offer of a place at this school would be wasted on you.”
And that’s that. Eyes downcast, any hint of a smile fading, Jenny sits silently for a moment, letting the weight of it sink in. It’s over, it’s done, her hopes of any kind of a future all but gone, and there’s nothing more she can say. Finally, she gets to her feet, trying to seem steadier than she feels. “Thank you,” she says quietly, “for taking the time to see me.” She doesn’t wait for a response before she turns from Miss Walters and heads to the door, watching her feet as she turns its knob and walks out into the hallway that she once passed through on a daily basis.
At least, that’s where she’s supposed to be. In trying so hard to retain her composure, her head too full to process anything but her own thoughts, it takes a few steps before she realizes that she can't be in the school anymore, that the corridor she’s stepped into isn’t recognizably part of it at all. Dimly, she thinks that they must have redecorated or some such thing in the time she was gone, and that she just didn’t notice it when she came in for the meeting, but logically, she knows that must be wrong. There’s no way. Taking a shaky breath, she leans sideways against a wall with one hand, eyes wide as she looks around. She has only one ostensible option here, and whatever hit her pride has just taken, she isn’t against lowering herself once more. “Excuse me?” she says, voice more confident than she actually feels, as she reaches out to stop the first passerby she sees. “I -- I appear to have gotten lost.”
[Newly arrived, Jenny can be found anywhere in the Compound. First thread gets to explain, all others set after, though she'll still be looking fairly lost. ST/LT welcome.]
“I want to repeat my last year of school,” she says slowly, calmly, just as she’s told herself she would, “and take my exams.” The request is a simple enough one, or she thinks it should be. Sitting here on the couch in the headmistress’s office, she feels more like a schoolgirl than she thinks she has in a long time, hair pulled back simply, sweater and blouse and skirt plain, modest, carefully chosen. If she’s going to supplicate, she’s going to do so properly, to show that she really means it, demonstrative of the change of heart she’s claiming to have had. It is, of course, one that’s entirely reliant on a change in circumstances, but that part probably goes without saying, anyway.
“I got the impression, last time we spoke, that you didn’t see the point of school, or of me, or of any of us here.”
This, Jenny has prepared for, too. Given her previous impassioned speech -- and she knows full well that it was that, doesn’t even think she’d take all of it back, if outright asked -- it was never going to be as easy as one sentence. She has to make her case, to prove she means it. “I know I was stupid,” she continues, and that much is true, though at least she wasn’t the only one. “The life I want, there is no shortcut. I know now that I need to go to university.”
“It gives me absolutely no pleasure whatsoever to see our young schoolgirls throwing their lives away,” Miss Walters says, then adds lightly, almost as if an afterthought, “although, of course, you are not one of our schoolgirls anymore, through your own volition.”
Despite herself, despite everything, Jenny smiles. “I suppose you think I’m a ruined woman,” she replies, the last two words made slightly exaggerated, the closest to humor that she can manage in the situation. (It is, after all, true.)
Miss Walters laughs around the rim of her teacup, but she doesn’t seem amused. “You’re not a woman,” she says, and Jenny would protest, but she can’t find it in her to say anything, half-expecting what comes next before the words leave the headmistress’s mouth. “No, I’m afraid, I think, that the offer of a place at this school would be wasted on you.”
And that’s that. Eyes downcast, any hint of a smile fading, Jenny sits silently for a moment, letting the weight of it sink in. It’s over, it’s done, her hopes of any kind of a future all but gone, and there’s nothing more she can say. Finally, she gets to her feet, trying to seem steadier than she feels. “Thank you,” she says quietly, “for taking the time to see me.” She doesn’t wait for a response before she turns from Miss Walters and heads to the door, watching her feet as she turns its knob and walks out into the hallway that she once passed through on a daily basis.
At least, that’s where she’s supposed to be. In trying so hard to retain her composure, her head too full to process anything but her own thoughts, it takes a few steps before she realizes that she can't be in the school anymore, that the corridor she’s stepped into isn’t recognizably part of it at all. Dimly, she thinks that they must have redecorated or some such thing in the time she was gone, and that she just didn’t notice it when she came in for the meeting, but logically, she knows that must be wrong. There’s no way. Taking a shaky breath, she leans sideways against a wall with one hand, eyes wide as she looks around. She has only one ostensible option here, and whatever hit her pride has just taken, she isn’t against lowering herself once more. “Excuse me?” she says, voice more confident than she actually feels, as she reaches out to stop the first passerby she sees. “I -- I appear to have gotten lost.”
[Newly arrived, Jenny can be found anywhere in the Compound. First thread gets to explain, all others set after, though she'll still be looking fairly lost. ST/LT welcome.]