2016 A-Z Blogging Challenge – 8 April. G is for Ghastly




My ears prick up. That cut glass English accent could only have come  from one person. Lady Pricilla Armstrong-Flowers. The bane of my life at Roedean, the boarding school for girls set high on the cliff overlooking Brighton and the English Channel.

That was nearly 60 years ago, but instantly I am 15 years old again, gauche and unpopular.

I look towards the sound of her voice. Fully expecting to see the tall, willowy figure that I despised from then.

Instead my eyes are drawn down, to the twisted, hunched figure in the wheelchair.

She looks up, and our gazes lock.

Neither of us smile, make any move to acknowledge the other. Maybe she doesn’t  even remember me.

She wheels  herself over. I watch her the whole time, and as she closes in, I brace myself for unpleasantness, derision, ridicule. Leopards don’t change their spots, after all.

She holds out her hand. “Pricilla”, she says. “Prissy, to my friends.” She cocks her head. “I don’t remember very well these days. But you remind me of someone I went to school with. Pretty girl, vey sweet. I liked her a lot.”


20 thoughts on “2016 A-Z Blogging Challenge – 8 April. G is for Ghastly

  1. What a lovely ending, and a good illustration about how our own self esteem (or lack of it) can cloud our view of how people really see us


  2. Time has a way of ameliorating one’s memories of others. There’s a website called Classmates where you can follow up on people you went to high school with, and one day I got a note from a girl who couldn’t stand me when we were in school together, talking to me like we were old friends. Of course, she was a real estate agent….

    I enjoyed your story very much!


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