EJ

Chapter 1: how did I get here?

"You're still a bastard, Dad," I said in an undertone as I watched my father drive away. I stood there for a few minutes longer, my insides churning. I turned to look back at the main entrance. The pimply-faced fat girl was still there waiting for me.

I sighed and walked up the steps, the skirt of my school uniform knocking softly against my thighs. My two cases were standing in the hallway near the door of the boss lady's office. They had been searched while Dad and I were being interviewed by the formidable Mrs Braun. She had given me a folder containing material relating to the school, including a map and numerous pages of rules and protocols. She had then proceeded to go through a lot of the rules anyway.

God, what a place. The Wessex Academy for Young Ladies. It was a boarding school for senior students, but it was more like a glorified prison. It was expensive and specialised in getting troublesome children straightened out.

There were two things wrong with me being here: firstly, I wasn't really a troublesome child anymore, and secondly, it was an exclusive girls school, and I was a boy.

How did I come to find myself in this sorry situation? It wasn't my fault, I was the victim here. The story goes back around two and a bit years - I was fourteen at the time - when things in my family started going pear-shaped for seemingly no reason at all.

There was an increasing cold tension between the three of of us - I'm an only child. I can blame my problems on hormones because I had just started puberty, but I have to concede that I was a real little prick there for a while and that certainly didn't help matters.

I think Mum and Dad (Janet and Brody) both started 'playing up' - having sexual encounters outside their marriage. Matters continued along that way until about four months ago when things came to a head. Mum ran off with her lover. The lover didn't want to have anything to do with me so I was left behind with Dad.

Okay, fine.

No, not fine.

I was a problem for my father, he was a civil engineer and in a partnership with two of his old friends. Dad worked on projects all around the country and overseas. He was frequently away from home for days and even weeks at a time. This wasn't a problem when Mum was around, now it was.

Over the previous six months or so I had settled down and was behaving reasonably well, but I guess Dad felt that he still couldn't trust me even though I was now sixteen. I'm sure he considered a number of options, but decided that a boarding school would be best for me. The Wessex was the only one with a vacancy.

My father was an intelligent man, but anybody could have told him that this was a really dumb solution. However, I think his decision involved a fair bit of payback for the stuff I'd done during my crazy period; and I'm sure that there was a strong undercurrent of anger at my mother driving him as well. He certainly didn't seem to be taking Mum's departure very well.

Naturally, I baulked and flatly refused to have anything to do with going to an all-girls school. He easily outmanoeuvred me.

Playing the piano was central to my existence. I had started learning the piano at age five and my overriding ambition was to become a concert pianist. There were two essentials in my life: a piano to play at home (and we had a nice grand piano) and a school that offered serious music subjects.

Dad gave me a choice: a foster care situation on a farm (no piano) and attend the local high school (very limited music facilities), or Wessex disguised as a girl.

"You're a bastard, Dad."

A raised eyebrow, "Perhaps you need time to reflect on your previous behaviour and on your language. I'll give you an hour. The default is the farm."