The Great Explorer

Pippa lined up with her sisters in the living room for the "first day of school" photo. This was a family tradition every September. However, today was special because for the first time she was wearing the same uniform as her sisters and would be getting on the same bus as them to "big school".

The uniform felt strange and stiff as she shuffled into place in front of the fireplace. Her new grey skirt fell below her knees, but her mother said she would grow into it. The white shirt was also too big and was stuffed into the waistband of her skirt. As the youngest child, she was not used to wearing brand new clothes. Nearly everything she wore was soft and faded, drained of life by her sisters. Those old clothes hung wearily, as though they were bored before Pippa had even started. After much persistence, her mother had agreed that she could have a brand new school uniform and now she breathed in the fresh, starchy smell. These clothes were her very own and she could sew her own story into them. She pulled her shoulders back, placed her hands on her hips and smiled proudly at the camera.

Pippa had listening to everything her sisters had said about big school, building pictures in her mind of the place where she would spend the next seven years. From their chatter, Pippa had learnt that they had a different teacher for each subject, that the school hall was as vast as a football field, that there were so many students you couldn't possibly know everyone and that you got detention if you didn't do the homework. Each time one of her sisters tossed her a new piece of information, like throwing a titbit for a dog, Pippa would eagerly gather up the words. She would hold them in her head, slowly twisting them to squeeze out every possible detail, and then merging them into the mental image she had created.

Their father finished taking photos, and their mother herded them out of the house and down the driveway to the main road, where they would catch the bus. Pippa's new rucksack bounced against her back, full of brand new notebooks and pens, and her new lunchbox. She felt that, with these tools, she could face any challenge that big school presented. She had her armour, her weapons, and she was ready for battle.

As they lingered at the end of the driveway, peering down the road for a glimpse of the bus, Pippa's oldest sister, Beatrice muttered to her, in a voice low enough that their mother wouldn't hear, "Don't expect me to look after you at school. The big kids don't hang around with the little kids."

Her other sister, Lily, overheard and grasped Pippa's hand. "Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll look after you."

Pippa looked from one sister to another, her baby face wrinkled into a frown. It hadn't crossed her mind to seek the protection of her siblings in navigating her forthcoming adventure. Beatrice was five years older than her, and had always treated Pippa with the utmost disdain. She was now well into her teenage years and spent far too much time flouncing around the house in a perpetual state of fury to bother with her younger sister. Lily, on the other hand, was a much sweeter character, but Pippa was dubious about the value of her oath of protection. Lily was smaller than Pippa, despite being two years older, and seemed to waft through life without really engaging it in. Pippa doubted Lily's ability to defend her against the potential hazards of big school.

The bus arrived and Pippa's mother pulled her close and kissed her hard on the forehead. Pippa felt a momentary lurch of panic as her sisters hustled her on to the bus and the invisible tie between her and her mother became painfully stretched. She took a window seat, with Lily next to her, and looked out of the window as the bus drew away and left her mother behind. She felt the threat of tears jabbing at the back of her eyes, but one disgusted look from Beatrice forced them away.

The bus trundled down country lanes that Pippa knew well, but seemed different now that she was seeing them from the window of the vehicle taking her from one life to the next. The familiar roads and fields were now framed by possibility and anticipation.

Looking around, Pippa absorbed the details of the other kids on the bus. She easily spotted the other new starters, dressed in over-sized clothes just like her, and wrapped in the same uncertainty. In contrast, some of the older kids looked so grown up as to be practically adults. They wore their uniforms like a fashion statement, and accessorised it with junky jewellery draped around their necks or puncturing their ears. She was an intruder in their sophisticated world, a place where she didn't know the geography, the language or the culture. She felt like a great explorer, venturing into an unknown land, where everything would be different to what she had previously known.

Several minutes later, the bus slowed and swung through black, wrought iron gates. It meandered down a long driveway, two lines of trees standing solemnly in greeting, and approached a large building, cut into a perfect, grey square. Pippa held her breath. This was it.