Just a dream

Chapter 6

Comin' to class

"Hey Ginger, you're comin' to class today!" I jumped sleepily as Jana burst into my room, not bothering to knock. I was still in bed, the thin blanket curled around me like a cocoon, too cold to let it hang any looser. I attempted to sit up, but just fell back down, not being able to move my arms. Jana grinned and used her advantage, tipping me off the bed with one great shove. I groaned moodily as I unravelled myself. She was just like the real Jana; sporty, stubborn, and extremely mischievous. It was difficult to tell myself that she was just part of this dream sometimes. I quickly made myself decent, or as decent as you could get in theses horrible nightclothes that looked like they'd been stolen from the Georgian era.

It had been what seemed like a week since I arrived at the school. I say seemed like because, of course, Dream world time was not relative to real time, and the ratios did not stay put. You could be asleep for five minutes twice, but for one time feel like it's been precisely five minutes, the next time feeling like it's been hours. The last time I had been in the Dream world, it had lasted for two years, but I had woken up only seven hours after falling asleep. I felt in fact, years older than my fourteen year old body portrayed, for I could remember every moment of it, just as if it was reality. I wondered how long I would stay here this time.

"Come on! We've only got ten minutes before registration starts!"

"What!?"

"You 'eard what I said." Of course, there was one major difference between Dream world Jana and reality Jana; one seemed to be far more alert, aware, and actually got up on time. The other would never be caught dead doing this. Unlike when I had first met her, when it had been a total and utter mess, Jana's glossy brown hair was neatly tied back into a French plait, showing off her pretty face. She had never liked to talk about the way she looked much, and I suspected that she didn't think herself pretty. I had tried to persuade her over and over, but she would never listen; that was her stubbornness coming into play.

Jana left the room as I quickly got dressed, waiting outside, her foot tapping irritantly. I looked at myself in the small mirror in the corner, being horribly reminded of my actual school uniform. But I would be. This was my dream, everything here would be from my memories. But it wasn't. I was still puzzling over how all of these children could have appeared, all of these adults too, without me having the faintest idea who they were. The only person I actually recognised was Jana, but she didn't recognise me.

Once I was done, we rushed out of the dormitory, which was silent and abandoned, and Jana led me down the corridors to a room labelled: GMD Classroom 1. We burst in, to find all of the kids from the GMD dormitory sitting in boy girl order, their hands clasped together on the desk in silence. A stern looking teacher sat at the front of the room, glaring at us as we came in.

"Sorry we're late, Sir. I had to bring the new girl here." I almost gasped with astonishment. Jana's accent had changed from being Cockney, to a voice that sounded more posh than the Queen's. I had to bite my lips so as not to splutter over this transformation; it was just so strange.

"Right. Very well. Sit down before anything else happens." said the teacher sternly, watching us out of the corner of his eye as I took a seat next to Jana. "Register." Every single student, including Jack and Eddie, answered their GMD names with 'Yes Mr Foster' in a tone that sounded so well spoken, that I barely recognised their voices. We went through the English lesson, all of them talking with their posh accents, as if they had never spoken any other way before in their lives. I did not attempt to mimick, but Mr Foster glared at me every time he heard me speak, making me feel uncomfortable. I was glad to get away after an hour of deadly squints.

I followed Jana like a lost puppy, arguing mentally with myself whether I should ask her about the sudden accent change. But by the time I had made up my mind to ask her, we had arrived at the next lesson. Yet again, all of the GMD kids were bundled into one classroom, labelled: GMD Classroom 7. I had not seen any other kids, who were presumably were the kids that Eddie had previously called 'the GMS lot', which I found slightly strange. This entire building couln't be just for the education of a mere classroom of children. And what was the difference between being labelled GMD and GMS? This was so confusing, and I didn't understand where any of it was coming from in my mind.

When we walked into the classroom, I expected to see another stern teacher, glaring at us as we entered. Instead, I got a rather pleasant surprise.

"Moggs!"

"It's Miss Walters in the classroom, young lady. Now, I'm expecting you're all wondering why I'm here?" Mutters of confusion buzzed around the class as the thought crossed their minds, and Jana and I took the opportunity to sit down whilst no one was paying attention to us. Then Moggs interrupted, continuing what she had been saying. "I'm afraid Miss Hartly has fallen ill, and so will not be teaching you for a few weeks. But we should really be getting on. Ok, now, let me see ... ah, yes. Business studies. Right, let us begin.

Now that it was Moggs teaching us, I felt more comfortable talking to Jana. "Why did you use that accent?"

"What? My classroom voice?"

"I guess. Why does it have to be different to the voice you used in the dormitory, the voice you're using now?"

"'Cause Pearlman would 'ave us if we talked like this in class."

"Well, why not just use your classroom voice all the time?"

"It's tradition, innit? Grew up talkin' like that. Nothin' different to 'ow it's always been."

"Who did you learn it from then? There don't seem to be any people older than fifteen here, but you must have got that influence from somewhere."

"Dunno. Just, sort of, 'appened, really. Dunno 'ow to explain it."

"Ok." I sat, thinking for a while, somewhat more confused than I had been to start with. You couldn't just pick up an accent like that. Could you? Well, it was my dream, I could be imagining her like that. But why would I imagine something so strange? I could not explain. But my attention sharply snapped back to Moggs as I heard her read out part of the text book revision notes.

"... of which profit was considerably predicted. Of course, it was confirmed and founded by none other than Charlie Dickinson, founder of Woking Boarding School."

She had to be joking.