In the afternoon they have a PE class and play netball for the first time ever. At their old school only the girls played netball but here the boys play too. They wear really short knife pleated PE skirts, gym knickers, a polo shirt and thick knee socks; all in burgundy. For Alan and Wayne, it’s a humbling kit to wear but everyone else wears the same so they don’t feel too out of place. It is a bit chilly though, not having tights to give them some protection against the chilly October air.
Their PE kits were embarrassing to wear but come Thursday and the hour long dance class, they discovered a whole new level of embarrassing attire; baby pink dance tights and a burgundy camisole leotard. Baby pink ballet shoes and short burgundy skirt that’s almost completely see through. Their hair is scraped back into a tight bun and their fringes held off their face with numerous hair slides. They also have a little pink wrap cardigan and some woolly leg warmers to wear until they’ve warmed up. The class began with the five positions of classical ballet which involved standing with their arms and feet and various specific positions, over and over again. It was slow and tiresome. The teacher plonked on the piano, calling out the positions, reminding the children to concentrate and to move on the beat. This yawn-fest was followed by something that resembled actual dancing. Simple routines that involved steps, turns and little jumps. It was marginally more interesting than the five positions but the classical piano music they had to dance along to was dire. Toward the end of the class, the teacher said it was time to ‘have some fun’. She opened the lid of a Dansette record player and placed a disc on the turntable. Half of the kids cheered when the opening bars of The Sweet’s Blockbuster blasted out and everyone began jumping about. This was followed by another cracking tune; Can the Can by Suzi Quatro. Afterwards, the dance teacher approached the new boys and asked if they’d enjoyed themselves. They were non-committal but did admit to enjoying dancing to The Sweet and Suzi Quatro at the end of the class. “Good.” the teacher smiled, handing each of them a small pamphlet. “Learning and understanding the basics of ballet means dancing to pop music is much more fun.” she told them, before suggesting they practice the basic positions at home.
After school, Alan’s mother excitedly asked how his dance class went. “Really boring.” he whined.
“Is that your kit?” his mother asked, referring to the drawstring bag hanging from his shoulder. Alan gulped and nodded. His mother took it from him and had a look. “Oh lovely.” she grinned. “I can’t wait to see it on.”
“I brought it home to wash, not to wear.” Alan muttered as his mother opened the pamphlet he’d been given.
“It says you should practice for twenty to thirty minutes each day here.” his mother informed him.
“Yeah but it doesn’t say I have to wear that.” Alan claimed as his mother folded the leotard and tights.
“It doesn’t say you shouldn’t either.” his mother replied. “You can practice on the landing, using the banister as a bar.” she added. Of course Alan protests but his mother tells him that whilst he’s attending St Felicity’s, he’ll do what’s expected whether he likes it or not. “…otherwise you’ll find yourself there for much longer than a fortnight.”
Alan hung his head and stuck out his lip. “It’s not fair.” he grumbled.
“Oh it’s entirely fair Alan. You brought this on yourself remember. If you hadn’t been skipping school you would have ended up at St Felicity’s.” she reminded him. “Have you got much homework to do?” she asked.
“A bit.” he replied.
“Well I suggest you get on with it.” his mother replied. “I’ll go and chose you a dress for when you’ve finished.” she added.
“Can’t I choose for myself?” he asked.
“You wore what you wanted last night… tonight it’s my turn.” she retorted.
“Wayne doesn’t have to wear girl’s clothes all the time.” Alan whined.
“Well that’s up to his parents.” Alan’s mother retorted. “I’d guess if Wayne had a sister he’d be in much the same boat as you are.” she reckoned. “Now let me retie your bunches.” she said. “They’re lopsided.”
