Page 92
Story: Web of Dreams (Casteel 5)
I looked away quickly. I knew he was trying to be nice because he had seen how upset I was about Momma's not coming along, but I wasn't feeling pretty, nor was I in a good mood. I felt trapped, forced to go to places I didn't want to go to and do things I didn't want to do, all because it was what made Momma happy. She seemed always to get what she wanted, and without any of the accompanying hardships or effort. She was upstairs, comfortably in bed.
"You're going to love Winterhaven," he said as Miles drove off. "The main building used to be a church and the bell tower is still there. It chimes for each passing hour, and at twilight, they play melodies.
"All the buildings have names and form a half circle. There's an underground passageway that connects the five buildings. Students use it when snow makes walking difficult. You'll be staying in the main building, Beecham Hall. It houses the dorms and the dining rooms, and the assemblies are held there as well."
"If it's an all-girls school, how do you know so much about it, Tony?" I asked sharply. I didn't mean to take my anger out on him, but I couldn't help myself. He smiled and gazed out his window for a long moment. I thought he wasn't going to-explain, but then he turned back to me, his eyes glassy.
"I used to know a girl who went there," he replied softly.
"Oh? Was she a girlfriend?" I asked petulantly. He either ignored or didn't hear my irritable, sarcastic tone. His smile widened and he nodded.
"Yes. She was a very pretty, very sweet girl . . . almost angelic, I thought. She was never unhappy, but she had so much compassion and love in her that she cried if she heard a mouse had been caught in a trap." His eyes grew dreamier and dreamier as he recalled more and more about her. "She had a soft voice and a small, perfect heart-shaped face. She was childlike, innocent and very gentle. No matter how sad or depressed I was when I saw her, in moments I felt happy and alive again."
"What happened to her?" I wondered why he hadn't married such a wonderful person.
"She was killed in a car accident in Europe while on holiday with her parents . . . one of those treacherous mountain roads. I really knew her only a short while, but . . anyway," he said quickly, "she attended Winterhaven, and I would meet her there, so I got to know it well.
"Actually, Jillian reminded me a lot of her. She has that same perfect face, that same soft look, a look artists seek. You have it too, Leigh," he added turning back to me quickly.
"Me? No, I don't look that much like Momma. My eyes are too close together and my nose is so much bigger."
"Nonsense," he insisted. "You are too modest. Some of it should rub off on your mother," he said with surprising bitterness. "She's driving me mad, you know. But," he said quickly, "that's my problem. Today, we must see to your happiness and your wellbeing." He settled back to enjoy the ride.
Was I being too modest? Was I really becoming pretty or was Tony just saying it to cheer me up? Beside Daddy, no other man really complimented me so lavishly. Was that because I was still young or was it because only daddies and stepfathers would say such things to me? Certainly my hair was becoming as rich and as soft as Momma's, and we had the same color eyes. Was it wrong for me to hope I would be as beautiful, even more beautiful?
"There," Tony said, pointing, when we approached the school, "see what I mean?"
Winterhaven did have an elegant and special look to it. It was nestled snugly in its own small campus of bare winter trees with evergreens relieving the bleakness. The main building was white clapboard, gleaming in the early morning sunshine. I had expected a stone building, one of brick.
As soon as we arrived, a man from the school came out to collect my luggage and wheel it away on a cart. Tony gestured toward the administrative office
s. He saw the look of trepidation on my face. It was a new school with new teachers and new friends to make. I couldn't help being nervous. This was the time a girl needed her mother beside her to comfort her, but mine was probably still in bed, her face covered with overnight creams, I thought disdainfully.
"Don't look so frightened. You'll do fine here. I saw your school grades, and as for making friends, all the girls in this place will trip over themselves trying to get you to be their companion. Except for those who will be terribly jealous and angry that the new girl is so pretty," he added. His smile gave me strength to climb the steps.
I was surprised by what I found. I had expected something like a posh hotel lobby, but what I saw looked very austere. It was very clean, with highly waxed hardwood floors. The walls were off-white, and the moldings were elaborate and darkly stained. Potted ferns and other household plants were scattered here and there on tables and beside straight-backed, hard-looking chairs to relieve the starkness of the white walls. From the foyer I could see the reception room that was a bit cozier, with its fireplace and carefully arranged chintz-covered sofas and chairs.
Tony led me to the office of the headmistress, Miss Mallory, a stout, affable woman who shone on both of us a wide, warm smile.
"Welcome to Winterhaven, Miss VanVoreen," she said. "It's an honor and a privilege to have the daughter of the owner of the country's most famous luxury ocean liners attending our school." She kept smiling at Tony. I estimated her to be in her mid- to upper twenties, perhaps young for her position, although her high-pitched voice and granny glasses made her seem much older. She had her dark brown hair pinned tightly into a bun and wore no makeup, not even lipstick. She seemed a bit insecure, but from the way Momma had described Tony's influence with the school, I imagined he could have an effect on her future. The school had an expensive tuition, but really existed on the basis of the contributions rich people like Tony made.
"I know Mr. Tatterton is a busy man, so let's move quickly. I imagine he wants to see your living quarters," she said smiling again at Tony. "I'll show you your dormitory room myself," she said, "and afterward, you and I can get to know each other a lot better when I describe your program to you. I planned it for you personally," she added, raising her eyebrows to impress Tony. He didn't change expression.
"Right this way," Miss Mallory said, gesturing. "I've asked your roommate, Jennifer Longstone, in remain in your room this morning rather than attend class, just so I could introduce the two of you." She turned to Tony. "Of course, I don't do such a thing with everyone. And, of course," she said turning back to me, "if there is any problem between you and Jennifer, anything at all, don't hesitate to tell me and move you to other living quarters." She smiled again at Tony and led us down the long corridor that connected the administrative offices with the dormitory.
There were a number of bulletin boards along the way, and although most of them were taken up with club announcements and reminders about tests and such, there were also a number of reminders about dorm regulations prohibiting hoarding of food in rooms and forbidding liquor, including beer and wine. Study hour was from seven to eight and after eight, students could go into the recreation room to watch television or play board and card games until curfew, but any form of gambling was prohibited. None of the students were permitted television sets in their rooms and the loud playing of music was taboo. Of course, smoking was off limits everywhere.
I saw that every prohibition carried the threat of demerits with it. Miss Mallory observed the way I read the bulletin boards as we passed them.
"Yes, you see we have very strict rules at Winterhaven," she told me. "We are proud of our girls, proud of their demeanor and their exemplary behavior. Once in a while, we have a problem, but we take care of it quickly. If someone does prove to be incorrigible, the demerit system will terminate her stay here.
"For obvious reasons," she continued, "we expect you to be prompt for all your classes and do all your assignments on time, as well as be on time for all meals. A table has been assigned to you, and you are not permitted to change your seating unless the occupants at another table invite you to join them. You can, of course, invite someone to join you as well. Each student is expected to wait the tables for one week each semester. We rotate the service, and most students find it not unpleasant.
"But," she added, stopping at a door, "I'm sure a girl of your class and breeding won't have any difficulty with any of this." She flashed a smile at Tony and opened the door.
I was surprised at the plainness of the room because I had expected that girls from such rich and well-known families would have luxurious quarters. Also, the room was much smaller than I had anticipated. The floors were polished hardwood with scatter rugs set down beside the simple, light mapleframed single beds. There were two matching dressers side by side at the center, between the beds. In the corners were two desks with lamps and above them and to the side of each were dark pine shelves. There was a bowl-shaped light fixture at the center of the ceiling. The walls were the same off-white with the darkly stained molding found in the lobby of the building. Behind the headboard of each bed were two panel windows, each with a pale yellow shade and thin, eggshell white curtains.
Jennifer Longstone was seated at her desk in the right-hand corner. She stood up immediately and smiled. She was at least three inches shorter than me, with a round face with big dark eyes and what I thought was beautiful black hair, as black as licorice. I liked her smile and the way her pug nose twitched. She wore a white blouse and a blue skirt with saddle shoes and bobby sox.
Table of Contents
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