I followed Mother back up the stairs to my sisters room. “I’m not wearing her shoes.” I insisted as soon as I realised I wasn’t going to be wearing my own shoes.
Mother gave me one of her knowing looks before opening my sister’s wardrobe, “You’ll wear what you’re told to wear young man.” Mother insisted.
Mother knelt down to route through the piles of shoes. I stood there silently waiting. Mother placed a pair of Cheryl’s shoes on the floor. “Try these on.” She said. “I think they’ll fit.”
I picked up the pair of plain black ballet pumps with a groan and slipped them onto my feet.
“Perfect.” Said Mother, “Now, Bins”
There was no way I was going outside wearing this lot, “NO!” I shouted defiantly.
“I beg your pardon!” Snapped Mother.
“I’m not going outside like this, you can’t make me!”
“I’m getting sick and tired of your back chat young man.” Mother was really mad, but I was past caring how Mother felt, I felt worse.
“So what are you going to do?” I shouted back.
“Well”, Mother thought for a moment, “I could start by inviting your friends over so they can see you in your school dress. And I’m sure they’d come over if I phoned them.”
“It’s not ‘my’ school dress!” I insisted, “It’s Cheryl’s!”
“Well it’s yours now.” Mother barked, “And I don’t think your friends will be too bothered about who’s dress it was, once they’ve seen you wearing it.” Mother was right, the humiliation would be too much to bear. This threat defeated me hands down. “Now, I don’t want to ask you a third time. Put the bins out.”
I stamped out of the bedroom, thundered down the stairs and made as much noise as possible as I took the bin bags to the wheelie bin in the driveway. The wind whipped around my legs and up my dress as I re-entered the kitchen, slamming the back door behind me.
“You’ll have the neighbours round if you continue making that much noise.” Shouted Mother from upstairs. “You know what they’re like when they hear a commotion!”
I made less noise on my way back upstairs than I did on my way down. Our neighbours were very nosey and always claimed “we thought you were being burgled” or such like when they just wanted to be nosey. I entered my sister’s room to find Mother emptying the wardrobe of all the clothes. “What are you doing that for?” I asked.
“Well you won’t be needing any of them will you? Two school dresses and plenty of underwear is all you need.” She said in her ever so matter of fact tone. “Now I have some chore’s for you to do. You can start by vacuuming the stairs and the landing. When you’ve finished you can report to me in my study. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I sulked.
As the clock chimed 8pm. Mother folded her newspaper and turned on the TV. This was a huge relief as I’d spent the last few hours in a silent room, wearing my sister’s, or as Mother insisted, ‘my’ school uniform listening to my own jumbled thoughts and the sound of Mother silently doing her crossword. Mother chirped up. “If you get ready for bed now you can stay up and watch TV with me for a bit.”
Knowing all my clothes were locked in my room I quietly asked, “What shall I wear?”
Mother sighed, as if I was asking the obvious. “Well…. there’s nighties in the bottom drawer, under your knicker drawer.” she explained. I hate the way she said ‘my’ knicker drawer, but chose not to argue. “Slippers should be under the bed and there’s a dressing gown hanging on the wall.”
I sloped up to my sister’s room, eager to get this dress off, it being the single most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever worn. I opened the drawer which revealed several nighties in blue, pink, white and a flowery one. I chose the blue one, obviously. I made sure I hung my dress up properly in case Mother checked, before changing into the nightie, putting on my dressing gown and heading back to the lounge.
“Slippers?” Was the first thing Mother said as I entered the lounge. I looked down, realising I’d forgotten about them.
“Do I have to Mother?”
“Yes. I don’t want you running around barefoot.”
I returned to get the slippers. I knew it. Pink. They did feel nice and warm though.
