The Sunshine On Your Face

Trigger warning: child abuse

When you’re five years old the door to the headteacher’s office resembles more the portcullis of a Medieval castle than a worn and faded lump of wood separating you from a kindly old woman enjoying her last few months surrounded by her beloved students before embarking on a well earned retirement.

Chloe and Kirsty sat on opposite sides of the corridor,flanked by their parents,waiting to be summoned.They steadfastly refused to look at each other,but couldn’t resist a fleeting glance if they sensed they weren’t being watched.When they caught the other’s eye they exchanged glares ripe with poisonous malevolence.

Those without little girls in their lives might have observed them – blonde,button nosed,pristine white knee socked – and considered them cute,even angelic.On the other hand,anyone with a young daughter,a niece or a little sister was unlikely to entertain such delusions of sugar and spice and everything nice.Their male counterparts might partake in a greater number of battles,but the protagonists would frequently go from firm friends to mortal enemies and back to best buds all in the space of ten minutes,whereas girls of a similar age could harbour a grudge and pursue a vendetta with a sustained animosity that made the Bloods and the Crips,by comparison,look like mildly quarrelsome neighbours.

Mrs Morgan ushered the miscreants into her office.Chloe’s parents stood aside to allow Kirsty’s mum and dad to enter first.Not a word passed between them as the adults’ behaviour mirrored that of their daughters.

The headmistress was her usual conciliatory self.Early on in her long career she’d attempted to effect an air of sternness,but she’d never pulled it off convincingly and even her youngest pupils could intuit she was playing a role.Nowadays,she was happy to admit one of her great joys in life was to be greeted in the street by “her” children who were often the parents or grandparents of the current crop of learners.

The girls,backed up by their parents, stood before her desk.Mrs Morgan smiled as she imagined them as two tiny pugilists,surrounded by their seconds,spoiling for a rematch.

In their short time at the school neither of these girls had landed in any form of trouble and had shown themselves to be bright and full of promise.Chloe was outgoing and made friends easily while Kirsty was quieter,not timid,but rather watchful,careful.

Mrs Morgan was staggered when she’d learned,from their teacher,the identity of the two scrappers,doubly so when she was informed of the ferocity with which they’d flown into combat.

They’d been detonated by the smallest matter: Kirsty had found a fluffy,blue pencil case on the floor and placed it on her desk so the owner might retrieve it.Chloe had spotted this and assumed Kirsty had stolen this tatty,old,fraying at the seams item that had been given her by her father which made it ultra special in her eyes.It took two teachers to drag them apart and considerable strength to keep them that way.

Mrs Morgan ran through a litany of cliches to emphasise how unacceptable were their actions.She did her best to play hardball and deliver a telling off that would have a real impact,for she knew that beyond scaring them straight there was little in the way of punishment that could be handed down to five year olds.Besides,she had the strong impression that these girls were not likely to make a habit of engaging in fisticuffs.

In her experience it could be traumatic for kids unused to being in trouble to face a dressing down,but there was no hint of a tear from these little warriors who stood facing her with identical badass expressions plastered to their faces.Whether they were genuinely unconcerned or desperate to avoid appearing weak in the eyes of their rival she wasn’t quite sure.

After the girls grudgingly promised there’d be no repeat of their fracas the two families were dismissed and left the school without exchanging a word or even a glance.

For Chloe that was,more or less,the end of the matter.Her mother delivered a half hearted lecture along the lines of “you’ve let us down and,worst of all,you’ve let yourself down,” but even that was undermined by her dad’s barely concealed smile.He loved his daughter’s spirit and,even at this young age,drummed into her the need to be able to stand up for herself,though he was always the one closest at hand with the toastiest of hugs whenever they were required.

Half a mile away Kirsty could only have dreamed of having such an innocuous evening.Her parents were forbiddingly strict and religious,especially when they needed an excuse to sit in judgement of others.She was sent straight to her room as a prelude to a grotesquely severe spanking.

The girls managed to avoid each other for most of the next day at school.Chloe,for all her air of bravado,hadn’t enjoyed being a “bad girl” so was startled,during afternoon break,to wander into the girls’ toilets to find her foe glowering at her.Her first instinct had been to turn and leave,but she reasoned her sworn enemy (of twenty four hours standing) would have similarly lost her appetite for conflict.She was soon disavowed of that notion.Kirsty marched purposefully towards her and she involuntarily stepped backwards until she was halted by the wall.

“You,you.....” Kirsty struggled to find a strong enough word. “You.....bitch.Look what my daddy did to me.Look what he did to me because of you.” She turned around and lifted her blue checked dress.

Chloe felt the air exit her body,as though she’d been punched in the stomach by someone three times the size of the person standing in front of her.Cruel welts disfigured most of the skin that was visible and,she knew instinctively,most of that still covered.

“I’m so,so sorr....” Chloe’s lips quivered,then she began to sob and then to bawl hysterically.It was beyond her comprehension that anyone could do such a thing to another human being,let alone their own child.She knew her own father,ordinarily the most pacific of men,would kill anyone who even suggested inflicting such savagery on her.

Kirsty’s eyes,which had betrayed the strong desire to resume hostilities,were now fogged with confusion and embarrassment.All she wanted in that moment was for her erstwhile rival to cease her dreadful wailing.The only action she could conceive to achieve that end was to wrap her powerful little arms around Chloe and to hug her tighter than she ever imagined she could.She didn’t let go until Chloe had not one more teardrop left to shed.

It was in that moment an unbreakable friendship was forged.

The ensuing years would find them engaging in all manner of mischief and misdemeanours,but always side by side and,whenever blame was apportioned,Chloe would take it all on herself to keep her friend safe from retribution.

Kirsty found a sanctuary in Chloe’s house.Her parents,like most tyrants,were capricious.They veered between a hawk like observation of every aspect of her life and an almost total refusal to even acknowledge her existence.It was during these latter times she took all her meals at her friend’s home and slept in her bedroom after chatting and giggling long into the night.

It was there she spent the happiest days of her childhood and it was also where,on the night of her twelfth birthday,the day her father left home never to return,that she revealed the full extent of the abuse she’d suffered.Chloe managed to restrain her own tears and held this girl,who’d become closer than any sister,as she cried herself to sleep.She’d done everything in her power to persuade her to inform the police,a teacher or even her own parents,but Kirsty was adamant she’d never speak of it to another living soul.

It was here that,in a reversal of roles,Chloe recounted how she’d been assaulted by her boyfriend and the girls had devised an ingenious and brutal revenge that had come to fruition exactly as they’d planned.

It was here that Kirsty had come out to her friend,confirming what Chloe had long since guessed.The girls had celebrated the removal of any possibility they’d ever fall out over a boy.

And it was from here they’d set out for university.The same university.They had a plan they’d attend different colleges so as to meet new people and assert their independence from one another.It was a plan they’d clung to for fully fifteen minutes.