THE PLAYROOM OF THE ONE PER CENT

“Right,” said Sean they pulled up, “here goes!”

Sally gazed at the primary school; “It looks wonderful, oh I hope you get in, Olivia, remember best behaviour!”
Inside they were greeted by the deputy head; “Mr and Mrs Chantry, welcome.  You must be Olivia.”
Olivia hid behind Sally’s legs.
Sally smiled; “So pleased to meet you, Mrs Evans, call me Sally.”

 

Mrs Evans didn’t volunteer her first name, she led the way round the school, showing them classrooms full of busy looking children who were learning to read and write.

 “What’s in there?” Sean asked pointing to a red door.
Mrs Evans smiled and opened the door obligingly.  Olivia gasped.  Inside were all her favourite toys, My Little Ponies, Shopkins, Moshi Monsters, the Baby Annabel range, all that a she could want.  The girls in there were wearing Disney Princess dresses and dipping Marshmallows into a chocolate fountain.  The boys played with Lego or ran around the place, there didn’t seem to be anyone telling them to pay attention and they weren’t doing any of the boring school work the other children had been doing.  Mrs Evans shut the door again.
“What was that?” Sally asked.
“Oh, that’s the playroom for the one per cent,” Mrs Evans replied, “when are you five, Olivia?”
“In December,” Sean answered.
“You’ll be starting with us in September,” she said smiling.
Sally’s face broke into an enormous grin; “So, she’s in?”
“Of course,” Mrs Evans said.
 

Olivia talked a lot about the playroom she’d seen, Sally had to constantly remind her she was going to school to learn.  After the first week Olivia complained of having to read and write all day and not getting to play in that playroom.

“I’m sure you’ll turn will come,” Sally reassured her.
“They say it’s just for the one per cent,” Oliva replied.
“That can’t be right.  Now remember we’re going to the beach on Saturday.”
“After your home-work,” Sean smiled, remembering that Mrs Evans had told them the children were given spelling tests and writing to do at weekends.

Olivia began her home work at 9am on Saturday morning, Sean tested her spelling, there seemed to be word after word after word and poor Olivia was getting tired.  At 11am they still weren’t finished, Olivia was writing a paragraph about her home, then another about her favourite things and another about her favourite colour.
“This isn’t right,” Sally said to Sean, “so many words to spell, how many were there?  Thirty?”
“Ten for me, ten for Emma and ten for Charlotte,” reported Olivia, rubbing her aching hand.
“What?  Are you doing homework for other children?” asked Sean.
“Yes, the story about colours is for Charlotte and the story about favourite things is for Emma.”
“I’m putting a stop to that!” exclaimed Sally.
 

Monday morning Sally marched into Mrs Evans’ office.  “Why is my daughter doing homework for Charlotte and Emma?”

“Charlotte and Emma are members of the one percent.  The one percent don’t get homework, they do just what they feel like doing.  We share their work out among the others.”
“But – I don’t get it, when is it Olivia’s turn to be in the one per cent?”
Mrs Evans laughed; “Your child?  In the one per cent?  I’m sorry Mrs Chantry, you’re dreaming …”
“So, it’s the same children all the time in the one per cent?  And Olivia will never go into the playroom?”
“That’s right.”
“But that’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Mrs Chantry and we teach the children that from an early age.”

 

THE JONES' BABY

Ollie wanted to keep kicking his ball at the line of empty cans he’d set up in the garden, but Mummy put them back into the recycling and asked him what was wrong with the new Lego set.  Five minutes later she reminded him they had to go to the Jones' baby party.“There’ll be other children to play with,” she reassured him.

Only adults milled about in the pristine house, eyebrows were arched at the sight of Ollie and he held on tight to Mummy’s hand.

“Heather, so glad you could come,” Mandy Jones said.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise …” began Mummy.
“It’s OK,” Mandy smiled down at Ollie who hid behind Mummy’s legs, “there’s a buffet over there if you’re hungry.”
The food was unrecognisable to Ollie, there were no sausages on sticks or crisps.  He asked Mummy what it was.
“Canapes, houmous, salad, olives and bread,” she said, “it’s all very nice, why don’t you try …?”
“No,” Ollie snapped.
“I’ll get him a bag of crisps,” Mandy’s husband, Derek said kindly, “what flavour would you like, Ollie?”
“Where’s the baby?” Ollie asked.
"Ssh,” Mummy said.
After a bag of sea salted potato chips, Ollie left Mummy talking to her friends and explored the house.  He thought it was strange that there were no toys for the baby to play with and everything was so clean and tidy.  In other places he’d been to where there were children, there was always mess.  Here everything smelt like his house did when Mummy went mad with the Hoover.   He found his way into the nursery.  It was beautiful, a lovely white wooden cot, a mobile of vintage cars, a soft blue carpet, a small wardrobe, a mobile library with shiny new baby books in and finally a toy chest.  He ran towards it desperate for entertainment, but when he opened it all the toys in there were still in their boxes.
“Ollie!” It was Mummy’s voice.  He hurried down the stairs to see her waiting at the bottom for him.
“It’s rude to go wandering around other people’s houses!” she hissed.
“Mummy, all the toys were …”
“Ssh!”
Finally, Mandy bought a Moses basket down to the living room and put it on the table.  One by one the adults looked in it.
“Mandy, your baby is perfect and will be forever,” sighed Jenny.
“He’ll never let you down,” stated Simon.
“You’ll never have to worry about him,” Tina said, touching Mandy’s hand, face full of compassion.
“So beautiful,” whispered Mummy.
Ollie tried to get past Mummy to see into the basket, but the table was too tall for him.  Determined to have a look, he stood on a chair and looked in.
“Mummy, there’s a dead baby in there!” Ollie cried.
The room went silent, then hands grabbed him, pulled him off the chair and propelled him towards the door.
“Get him out of here!” Derek hissed tightly.  Ollie caught a glimpse of Mandy collapsing in tears onto Tina’s shoulder.
“So insensitive to bring a child,” Jenny remonstrated with Mummy.
“I’m sorry, no-one told me!” she cried.

Outside the Jones’ house, Mummy marched to the car with Ollie following miserably behind.

“Well, there was something to be said for the Jones’ baby,” she snapped, “at least he’ll never ever embarrass them!”

OUR JOURNEY

The sun shone from a blue sky, the birds sang and the ground was firm beneath our feet.  Confidently, our arms around each other we began our journey.  I told you that it would be easy because it’s us and there’s nothing we can’t cope with.  You believed me and stepped forward full of hope.

You complained when it started to rain, but I reassured you it was just a shower.  It kept coming though.  You set your mouth in a firm line and carried on quietly.  I told you how much I admired your stoicism and my praise helped you continue.  We decided it would be easier just to hold hands and carry our luggage which was starting to feel a bit heavy.

After the rain cleared, we found ourselves in a different place.  The way ahead was flat, the ground boggy and the sky grey.  No birds sang and there was nothing to look at.  Every day was the same.  I became tired of it and complained.  You sympathised and would listen to me saying the same things over and over each day with great patience.  I recall now that you never told me how you were feeling; I guess I didn’t give you the chance.  Sometimes we’d go for days without holding hands.  It was on one of these days that the fog came down and I lost sight of you.

I was furious, how could you leave me to carry everything?  Somehow our baggage had increased.  I think it was something to do with the heavy days of dragging through the mud, we seemed to have more equipment, but it was a burden rather than a help.  I shouted your name, but couldn’t see you anywhere.  I became scared, especially when a sudden gust of wind blew the fog apart and for one second I thought I saw you.  You were not alone out there.  You were walking with someone else, arms round each other like we used to.

The mist closed in again before I could make a positive identification and I carried on down the road until I found you, waiting for me at a junction, your eyes red from crying.  We walked on in silence, sharing the load again, but you weren’t as talkative as you used to be.  I got the impression you resented something.

We’ve reached the bottom of the hill now and we can’t see the top of it.  For the first time we have stopped, uncertain of our way.  I’ve consulted the map, we have to climb.  I remember the time I told you what a lovely journey we’d have together.  What a lie.  You glare at me and turn your back, leading the way up, I can’t see your face, but I can guess it has that grim little expression you’ve been wearing for days.  God I’m sick of it.  I carry on after you sullenly, wondering what the point of this is - a silent journey, up an endless hill with no end in sight.

TRAGEDY

It wasn’t that Costas was abusive, he was just an unreliable liar.  He’d taken all the money Helena earned and ploughed it into failed businesses or gambled it on the stock exchange.  There had been nothing but the bare minimum for Helena and their children, so when they woke one morning and he was gone, everyone was rather relieved.  The children ran round the house looking for traces of him.

“His clothes have gone, Mummy!” Irina shouted.
“His car’s not in the garage!” called Dion.
“I think he’s left us,” Helena said.  The baby cried in the cot and Matthias sat down in his play pen with a bump.
“Good riddance,” Helena’s mother said when she arrived to look after the younger children.

Helena took her older children to school and went to work at the department store.  If she was careful, she’d have just enough money to pay rent and feed her family.  At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Costas anymore.

That evening a powerfully built man knocked at Helena’s door and handed her a bit of paper.

Helena read it; “This isn’t right!”
“Ring the helpline,” the man said.
Helena shut the door and stared at the letter again.  It was from the well-known loan shark ‘Immediate Money ForU’.  Costas had borrowed £330,000 from them.  No reputable bank would have given him such a loan; he didn’t even own a home to secure it against.  No wonder he’d ran away.  She tried his mobile for the twentieth time.   Five minutes later and her phone rang, it was a woman called Angela ringing from Immediate Money ForU; “You owe us £330,000,” she said aggressively.
“No Costas  …”
“Costas has gone abroad, he’s signed the debt over to your family’s name.”
“He can’t do that!”
“You were his partner at the time, you’re liable for the debt.”
“But I don’t have any money!”
“Your family will help you …”
“It doesn’t matter if they do!  We can’t pay it back, it’s impossible with the amount of interest you’re charging …”
“Helena!” Angela’s voice was patronising, “you can’t borrow money and not pay it back.”

The next day at the school gate Helena could hear the whispers from the other mothers:

“She borrowed £330,000 from the IMFu and can’t pay it back.  Poor Angela is at her wit’s end.”
“Her whole family has been brought into it.”
“They’re refusing to pay.”
“Well, if she refuses her children should be expelled and the department store should sack her, she doesn’t deserve any support!”
At work it was the same, Helena was irresponsible, untrustworthy and reckless, no-one sat next to her at lunch time.

That evening Helena’s family visited, her mother held her as she wept; “It was Costas!”
“I know.  We’re trying to find him,” her father told her.
“We’re all in this,” said her sister, “and we’ll stick together.”
“The IMFu are acting like bullies, we’ll refuse to pay!” her youngest brother stated.
“Hold your head up high, ignore what they’re saying about you,” the eldest one said.

“I’m sorry,” the manager at the bank said; “I’m going to have to take the bank cards of you and your family, the IMFu have told us not to give you anything unless you start paying them back.”

“But how will we feed ourselves and our children?” Helena asked.
“Not my problem,” the bank manager said.

Helena had to do it, she left her children with her sister and went to see Angela.  Angela was very nice, she made Helena tea, she said that the loan could be paid off over an indefinite period of time; “Your children can leave school aged 16 and work for me.  I will take the pensions of your parents and they can go back to their jobs, your brothers and sisters can make cut backs to their lives and their children’s lives.  You will all work together and pay the debt …”

“But my parents are retired and my children want to go to university.”
Angela shook her head; “You should have thought of that before borrowing the money.”
“Even if we all work, my mother, my father, my brothers and my sister, even if our children start to work now, we can’t cover even the interest you’re asking for!”
Angela sighed; “Don’t worry, Helena, I have a solution, why don’t you speak to one of our advisors about another loan.”

THE GREATEST OF THEM ALL

Welcome to the land of Far Far Away and the Kingdom of Andalasia’s School for Future Princesses - it’s our first ever Sports Day.  We understand that looking perfect, meeting princes and singing ballads are more important, but unfortunately sport has been forced onto the curriculum by the Health and Equality Committee.

Our winners are Ariel at swimming, Elsa and Anna at ice skating, Rapunzel at high jump and Mulan at archery.  Cinderella’s upper body strength allowed her to succeed at javelin and Jasmine’s sword fighting is impressive.  Those who have done less well are Aurora who is sleeping off the 100 metre sprint and Snow White who is singing a song about how losing doesn’t matter.  Belle and Tiana refused to take part, respectively preferring books and business studies.
 
The next event is awkward – the Health and Equality Committee tell us that parents must take part, so we have a Mother’s Egg and Spoon Race.  However, while Aurora, Mulan and Tiana have Mums; Belle, Jasmine, Ariel, Cinderella, Snow White and Elsa and Anna do not.  As numbers are thin on the ground, we’ve let stepmothers and guardians take part too.  So joining Eudora, Fa Li and Queen Leah are Lady Tremaine, Queen Grimhilde and Mother Gothel (poor Rapunzel still thinks that woman is her mum).

Grimhilde and Gothel are squabbling about which of them is the fairest.  Tremaine has asked Cinderella to carry her egg and spoon.  The whistle goes, Tremaine with Cinderella gamely balancing her egg has taken an early lead.  This has enabled her to avoid the spell that bends the spoons of Eudora, Fa Li and Leah.  They are returning to the start to collect new ones while likely culprits Gothel and Grimhilde close in on Tremaine.  Oh no!  What a nasty tumble Gothel has sustained, she’s reached out though and managed to grab the ankle of Grimhilde, severely hampering her.  Serves Grimhilde right!  We have secret footage of her in the toilets ten minutes before the race chanting ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, may Mother Gothel have a fall’.  Miraculously they haven’t dropped their spoons and enchantment is suspected as their eggs are floating.  Grimhilde has given Gothel a good old fashioned kick in the face and is pursuing Tremaine relentlessly to the line.  Quick thinking spectator Elsa has cast a spell so that anyone else doing magic will be frozen out.  Speed counts from here.  Look at Gothel, she’s got a broken ankle and a bruised face, but she’s still crawling towards the line, I think she may even beat Leah, Eudora and Fa Li who are just beginning the race again.  Grimhilde, clearly the fittest of them all, has caught up with Tremaine, right at the finishing line and it’s a draw!  Gothel has managed to crawl to third place and the rest of the mothers chattering quite happily together have wandered over the line joint last – far too kind hearted to compete.

Well, who deserves the trophy?   Gothel with her grim determination to keep trying no matter what?   Grimhilde for her fitness and sheer ruthlessness?  Or Tremaine for being able to delegate the less important tasks and set winning as her priority?  Step up ladies and share the glory!  What role models you are - ruthless, bossy, strong, uncompromising and determined.  These are wonderful qualities which we hope you will pass to your charges to make them fit for today’s society.  Look, there’s generosity for you, Grimhilde is offering Gothel and Tremaine apples, how kind.

THE NOISE

The new home was as pristine as the last and the garden was decked out in fairy lights.  The house warming party looked like it was going to be the same as all Henderson gatherings, perfect.  The beer was the right temperature, the champagne had the correct crisp biscuity bubbliness and there was a balance of healthy and decadent at the buffet.  Their friends and colleagues were torn between envy and joy at being present at such a sumptuous event. 

Kelly sighed contentedly and smiled at Clarice Henderson; “This is a great house warming party, such a lovely house.”

“Yes,” Clarice said frowning, “except the Noise.”
“What noise?” Kelly asked.
“Can’t you hear it?” Clarice enquired. “When we viewed it, it was lovely and quiet, but from the minute we moved in there was this noise.”
Kelly frowned as Clarice went away to circulate, usually at a Henderson party the hosts controlled the conversation so well that nothing strange was ever said and the subject matter was never deep or taxing.  There wasn’t usually anything to worry about, but now there was.
“David,” Kelly called her husband to the drinks table.
“What dear?”
“Can you hear a noise?”
He listened; “No.”
"Neither can I.  Clarice thinks she can.”
“So does Roger.”
Kelly looked at Roger Henderson, he wasn’t his usual cheery self, he was rubbing his temples.  When he saw her looking a smile covered his face like a mask.
“What did he say the Noise was?” Kelly asked.
At that moment Oscar joined them at the table; “Is this the Noise?” he asked, “it’s such a puzzle!  I can’t hear it.”
“Neither can we.”
Oscar hummed a spooky tune; “Only they can.  Apparently it’s like a high pitched whining sound.  Roger said it started off in the background, but recently it’s been getting louder and louder.  They’ve had the Council round and everything.”
They watched Clarice cross the lawn to her husband, at one point she stepped clumsily into a flower bed.
“Is she drunk?” Kelly hissed.
“Apparently they’re not sleeping,” Oscar said, “the Noise keeps them awake.”
“It’s not as good a party as usual,” David complained, “shall we make it an early night dear?”
Kelly shook her head, she wanted to stay to the end to gather as much gossip about the strange fate of her successful friends as possible.
Alison topped up her glass and turned to them; “Are you talking about the Noise?”
“Yes!” whispered Kelly.
“Did you hear they had the Council round?  They couldn’t measure anything!  Said there was nothing to hear.  So Clarice went to the doctor.”
“But they both can hear it,” Oscar frowned.
“Yes but Roger wouldn’t go...”
“Oh, is this about the Noise?” William had arrived, “load of nonsense if you ask me.”

The group at the drinks table looked round to see if the Hendersons had heard.  The Hendersons were alone in the middle of their perfectly manicured lawn, Roger was clutching at his head in pain and Clarice was clinging to him crying.

BRING AND SHARE

“I’m going to say something,” Elvina announced.
“Don’t,” her mother replied, looking up from dressing the child, but Elvina was on her way out.
At the meeting hall the women stood around the table.
“He’s late,” Sara observed.
Elvina put her bag on the table, “Fish.”
“Rice,” Sara gestured to a sack.
“Bread,” stated Beth.
“Potatoes,”  Farah added.
“Milk,” said Luella.
The man walked in, smiled in his charming way and rubbed his hands; “What a lot there is here!  I need a bit more than last time, my mother is sick and my cousin is visiting to tend her.”
There was an excuse to take more every time.  Elvina spoke up; “What have you brought?”
“Nothing,” replied the man shrugging, “if you think hunting is easy, try it.”
 

When he had gone the women gathered together; “What is the point of him?” Elvina asked.

The question was greeted by a shocked silence.
“Well too ...” began Farah.
“When was the last time he lay with one of us?” Elvina demanded angrily, “the youngest of our children is two and I don’t see any of you ...”
“Protection,” Beth said firmly.
“If he wasn’t causing wars with neighbouring tribes we wouldn’t need protecting,” Elvina answered.
The women looked at each other.
“He hasn’t brought anything for weeks,” Luella said softly, “he must be struggling ...”
“How long are we going to make excuses for him?” Elvina demanded, “I say banish him.”
Sara’s hand shot up; “Aye!”
The others stared at each other in shock, then slowly put their hands up; “Aye.”
Elvina anticipated their question, “I’ll bring the meat.  How hard can it be?”

 

Killing the deer wasn’t hard, but dragging it back the miles she’d covered tracking it was.  Elvina’s resentfulness kept her going.  She thought of slamming the carcass on the table, her friend’s impressed faces and how they would all live in peace with more food.  No more free loading man.  She found herself late to the table and hurried inside, the deer on her shoulders to be confronted by the man sitting on the great chair with Farah on his knee, kissing his ear and stroking his shoulders, Luella was bringing him a mug of milk, Beth was taking off his shoes for him and Sara was tending to a small flesh wound on his shoulder.  On the table lay two deer carcasses.  Elvina met the man’s bold stare; his hard eyes were full of triumph.  She looked at her friends and they turned their backs on her, but the man put out his hand and smiled.

She felt the weight of the deer, the heaviness in her limbs; but more than that, she remembered the triumph of the kill.  Elvina turned away.

“You should have kept quiet,” her mother told her as she returned.

The child ran to her and Elvina gathered the boy in her arms; “We’re banished,” she said.
“We won’t survive without the community!” the old woman replied.
“They’d like us to think that,” Elvina fetched the deer carcass smiling in pride.
Her mother stared at it resentfully; “You’ve chosen a hard road.”