Taking Off
Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Katie swallowed a sip from her mother’s glass of champagne.
“Well done. To your success,” Linda cheered.
“I haven’t heard from the school yet.”
“I know darling but this is worth celebrating, whatever the outcome.”
“Do you think so?”
“Of course, I’m so proud of you. Five GCSEs with straight As.”
Katie devoted the rest of her Sunday to reading cooking magazines and soaking up the glorious August sun in the garden. Matt returned from his shift later in the afternoon and, at their mother request, accepted to drink a glass in her honour. Katie gathered her handbag and shoes.
“Are you off already? It’s a shame. I wanted to personally congratulate you.”
“Did you?”
“Of course I did. I’m proud of you.”
Katie went to the corridor to grab her jacket. “Liar.”
“What?”
“Nothing, I was only mumbling to myself.”
“Do speak to yourself now?”
“Yes, old age I suppose.”
The evening breeze detangled her hair as she sat on the train, windows open, and she leant back on her seat, closed her eyes and enjoyed the cool air on her face.
***
Katie greeted a few students she had talked to at the examination. A group of them decided to kill time at the local cafe and she joined them.
“What are you going to do if you’re not admitted?” One of the boys asked another one next to him.
“I’ve got options. I’ve just been to an interview for Physics at Oxford and I’m admitted to London Uni already.”
“Me too. I’ll go to UCL if they don’t take me here.”
“Everybody does, no?” The boy turned towards Katie. “And you?”
“I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Haven’t you?”
The boy’s voice pierced through the air.
“I might train as a chef.”
“A chef?”
“Yes, I love cooking.”
“Sure.”
The boys carried on discussing their future without addressing Katie any further. At ten to eleven, they all returned to the school building and amassed in the entrance, awaiting for the reception hall to open. An elderly man appeared and fumbled with a set of keys.
“Come on, old man,” someone shouted.
“Shut up,” someone else said.
He walked away, the doors still closed.
“Look what you’ve done, you idiot.”
“Shut up you two.”
Katie leant on the central pillar and rubbed her feet against each other. Five minutes passed with the occasional cry of impatience until a woman emerged from the crowd and requested that the teenagers remain quiet and form an orderly queue.
One by one, each student searched for his or her name on the results sheet. All the ones Katie had talked to had failed so far, except for the Oxford University hopeful. The girl in front of her had beautiful red brown hair tied up in a bun. Katie moved one step closer to the board. She bent forward, her face half an inch away from the girl’s hair. The list displayed successful candidates, sorted in first name alphabetical order. A Jonathan had got in, followed by a Matthew. Katie turned around. Some students had sat down on the stairs, their head in their hands. A girl comforted her boyfriend..
“You’re going to move forward or what,” the boy behind her said.
“Oh yes, sorry.”
She now stood in front of the board. Jonathan then Matthew. She focused on the names to fight off tears. Amanda, Ben, Catherine. Ironic that another Katherine should be on the list. Catherine Trebworth. She gasped and went up to the lady who had opened the door.
“I think I’m on the list but there is a spelling mistake.”
“Is there? Oh dear. Follow me to my office. What’s your name?”
The professor confirmed to Katie that they had indeed admitted her, though they were giving her a formal warning about her past alcoholism. They would send her forms to sign, by which she would agree not to drink at all during her studies and she would face expulsion with no refund if she did.
Katie called her mother to tell her the good news, omitting the conditions.
***
Aurélie checked the text from Katie. She smiled as she rubbed her thumb on the plastic screen and tightened her grip on the phone. She composed a reply, trying out different approaches in her head, labouring over the tiny keyboard, concentrating to write in a short and friendly style.
After ten minutes, she nodded in appreciation for her draft and hit the send button. She waited for her mobile to beep again, expecting her suggestion to meet up would stir up some kind of response from Katie but it didn’t happen and she put her phone back into her pocket, drank the last few drops of her coffee, returned to the fourth floor and resumed teaching the new girl how to dust the art deco lamp shades. At every opportunity, she unpeeled the yellow cleaning glove from her left hand, retrieved her mobile from her pocket and glanced at the display. She still hadn’t received a reply by the time she finished her shift at two o’clock so she called Katie.
“So, excited about Monday?”
“You bet! I’m so excited and so nervous.”
“Nervous?”
“Well, the financial thing is so stressful.” Katie coughed.
“Not heard from the sponsors yet?”
“No, I won’t hear until Monday. It’s going to be a mad day.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you.”
Aurélie stopped in front of two pigeons picking through a half eaten sandwich on the pavement. They protected their find from other pigeons by aggressively pushing them out of the area but they also bickered with each other, fighting over crumbs while they left large portions of the bread unattended.
“Aurélie?”
“Yes?”
“You sound miles away.”
“I was, sorry. Anyway, I wanted to apologise about last time, I shouldn’t have left the way I did.”
“It’s OK, I was a little brusque with you.”
“Can you meet on Saturday then?”
“I can’t, I’ve already organised to meet Fiona, Ruth and the usual gang.”
Aurélie finished the conversation, Katie promising to keep her updated on Monday, and sat down on a bench in Grosvenor Square. An elderly gentleman walked past her and took his hat off, and she smiled despite the tears running down her face.
***
On Monday morning, at eight thirty, Katie strolled into the school, bought a cup of tea and a chocolate muffin from the vending machine and greeted the boy who had bragged about his Oxford University interview.
“Hey. So you decided to come here then.”
“Yes, that’s the best place for me. I didn’t get Oxford.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s OK, I didn’t really want it. Flying is so much more intense.”
“Yes, I’m so excited.”
“I’m Tariq by the way.”
“Katie.”
They nodded at each other.
“You know, I read all their course work this summer, it’s going to be tough.”
“What course work?” Katie sat down on the stairs.
“My brother came here three years ago so he gave me his notes. I’m all prepared.”
“Did he like it?”
“He dropped out, went travelling. I’m like in his footsteps but not really. I’m not going to drop out.”
“Shame about him but yes, I’m sure you’ll be different. Do you get on with him?”
“He’s alright I guess. He’s intense, sometimes, but he’s boring as well.” Tariq kicked the wall with his right foot. “He smokes too much, that’s intense.”
“Right, I see. Do you know where the induction is?”
Tariq pointed at a corridor behind Katie. “Yes, around there at nine.”
“Cool. I’m early, I wasn’t sure how long the train would take.”
“Me too. It’s intense over here.”
Katie finished her drink, crushed the paper cup and aimed it at the bin. “Where are you from?”
“Bristol.”
She missed and got up to pick it up.
“Where are you staying now?”
“I’ve found a room in Clapham but the price, you know, it’s-”
“Intense?”
“Yeah, it’s intense. I might live around here, I don’t know.”
“Welcome to London, prices are crazy. I’m lucky, my landlord hasn’t put the rent up since I moved in four years ago but-”
“Hey matey,” Tariq said as he shook hands with another boy.
***
Katie switched on her mobile on the train home. Aurélie had texted her mid-morning to wish her good luck, her mother and Fiona had called at lunch time to ask how she was doing and someone from BOET, one of the companies she had approached for sponsorship, had left a message but Katie couldn’t make out most of it. She glanced at the time. Five twenty. She dialled the number, clearing her throat, closing her eyes, reciting to herself the message she would leave.
“Hello, BOET, Richard speaking.”
“Hello.”
“How can I help?”
“Yes, well, I’m returning a phone call, you’ve left a message on my mobile but I can’t quite hear it. It was about sponsorship for my pilot course.”
“Are you Katherine Trebworth?”
“Speaking.”
“I’m glad you’ve called. I am delighted to tell you that we have awarded you with a sponsorship of thirty thousand pounds, which will be paid directly to your school to cover the fees.”
“Thirty thousands? The fees are forty five.”
Richard sighed. “We cover the full fees only in exceptional circumstances. Thirty thousands is the maximum we are awarding this year.”
Katie grinned and cried at once, proud and disappointed, short-term relief and long-term worry, pale grey and dark grey, happy and anxious.
