Billy Black

By Mackenzie Shapero and Magdalena Pietravalle, ages 10 and 11 

“Bonnie!”

Bonnie froze. She knew something was wrong. The house was never this tidy, especially not on the last day of school. Normally, newspapers would be scattered everywhere and books were piled high in abnormal places. Clutching Billy Black, her teddy bear, she walked into the living room.

As usual, Dad was there, and he had laid out the afternoon snack, consisting of tea and biscuits, on the coffee table, as usual. But something was wrong.

There were three mugs of tea.

For as long as Bonnie could remember, there had only been two mugs. The faded panda mug for Bonnie and the plain green one for her father. Her mother had died only months after she had been born, and Billy Black, a beloved teddy bear, who had been her mother’s  most prized possession as a child, was now her  best friend.

Bonnie walked further into the living room, and asked the question that had been clawing away at her thoughts since she had entered the house. The forebodingly, unnaturally tidy house.

“Why’s the house so tidy?”  The question hung in the air. She tried again, “ I mean, why have you made such an effort to tidy up? Is someone special coming?” Her father sighed. An indescribable tension  was building up. He motioned for Bonnie to sit down. 

“Bonnie, I have been having trouble keeping up with work lately. And now, you’re becoming a big girl there’s nothing I can do to help you,” he stared down at the three mugs of tea, rapidly cooling. “I’ve hired a new nanny. Her name’s Ms Bullingham and she’s very nice. We’ll see each other at meal times, but other than that, Ms Bullingham is going to look after you for the summer. I’m sorry, but just remember that I will make up for it someday. ”

“It's fine dad. Why didn’t you tell me sooner though?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Look, let’s just forget it and eat. She’ll be here soon.”

Right on cue, the doorbell rang. Dad smiled.

“She’s here! Just wait a second,” he was still smiling. He went over to the door and welcomed Ms Bullingham in.

When Ms Bullingham arrived, Bonnie was shocked. She wasn’t the nice, pretty woman Bonnie had imagined. She was a tall, thin lady wearing a black dress, her hair imprisoned in a tight bun, and her knees clamped in long, black boots. Her mouth was stretched into a smile, but not stretched enough to reach her eyes, which looked like the cold and unforgiving winter Bonnie had once seen through a window.

“Mr James, I presume?” she was still smiling that winter-smile.

“Yes, that’s my name. However, I think it is better for you to learn the name of my daughter. This is Bonnie.”

Ms Bullingham turned her frosty grey eyes to Bonnie. Bonnie felt as if she had just swallowed an iceberg. 

“Let’s have tea, Mr James, and then Bonnie can show you to you to your room. She can tell me her likes and dislikes, and joys with sorrows. I would like to get to know her, so we can have the absolute best time together.”

A huge, fake smile was plastered across her face.

Tea was formal and uncomfortable. The adults talked about the most boring things, like politics,

while Bonnie sat with Billy Black and talked about what to do when they were alone with Ms Bullingham. 

When at last the mugs were empty, the plates carrying nothing but crumbs, Dad announced that he had some work to do at the train station. Bonnie gulped as Ms Bullingham closed the door after him, shutting out the sun and inviting in a malicious and spiteful thunderstorm.

“What is your age, girl?” Ms Bullingham asked in a demanding tone.

“Eleven.”

“I must say, I find that surprising. Girls of your age should not walk around with leaves in their hair, or mismatched socks. And your hair is simply atrocious. Go brush it, and come back downstairs with a hair tie.” Ms Bullingham snarled. “And I don't want to see you with that horrifying teddy bear again. You are far too old to carry around stuffed toys.” 

“But I’m supposed to show you your room first!”

“I really do not care, Bonnie. Do what I say.”

“NO!”

The answer was screamed at the top of her furious lungs, escorting her to her room. She heard the lock click behind her, and Ms Bullingham’s tall boots stalk down the stairs.

And Bonnie often did what she felt like at times like this. Her anger would devour her and she would become so fierce one may mistake her for a wild beast. She stormed downstairs, a hurricane trailing behind her and fire in her lungs, and burst into the living room. She would confront that witch, and she didn’t care if she would face the consequences. 

“Ms Bullingham,” she spat, “ firstly I’d like to say;” she paused for a moment, “ you are not the boss of me! I will do my hair as I like, play with what I want and not listen to you, Ms Bossy-stupid-know-it-all-bully! Get your butt out of this house and your nosy-nose out of my business!” 

“Me oh my, Bonnie! If you'll just calm down for just a second we can sort you out. Besides, isn’t it time you start studying for your upcoming exam?” She chuckled maliciously. But Bonnie was having none of it. She picked up Billy Black, then stormed out of the living room once again, threw the front door open and slammed it shut behind her. She had to calm herself and think of a plan. She knew crying would not help, but she couldn’t help it. Hot, angry and salty tears poured down her muddy face, leaving streaks of brown running down her face. She ran, losing the air in her lungs due to the biting cold. As soon as she reached the park, she clambered up her favourite tree and gently placed Billy Black on a branch. She sat and stared down at a golden retriever, its blue eyes staring up at her. There was something so soothing about being in a tree, she felt calmer than ever. She watched people go by for what seemed like days, until she noticed her dry throat. She was thirsty, not only for water but for a revolution. She had only met Ms Bullingham for half an hour, and already she was sick of her. She was sick of her bossing her around. Sick of everything about that mad woman.

Bonnie Agatha Lilystone would show that bully of a woman she wasn’t playing her games.

Suddenly, the truth became crystal clear, like a diamond glistening in the sun, to Bonnie, what she must do. She took her time getting down the tree, in no particular rush. She didn’t care if Ms Bullingham had to wait days to see her again. What did Bonnie care? When her feet met the soft, brown mud of the park she dusted her ripped jeans off. ‘I’ll have to patch these up at some point!’ She reminded herself. She walked the distance home and snuck in through her window to get into her room. She put on her most awful green, ripped dress and intentionally stuck a few twigs and leaves into her hair. She’d show Ms Bullingham she had no care or desire to look like a lady. Especially for Ms Bullingham. 

When she arrived at the dinner table, she was greeted by the most unpleasant sight. Ms Bullingham was wearing a gorgeous diamond necklace and pink gown. It didn’t suit her wretchedness. It only made her look more superficial than ever. It was like looking at a cactus. Prickly on the outside and squishy on the inside. Bonnie wasn’t fooled. Another unpleasant thing was that her father was also dressed up. She wanted to yell at the top of her voice, how horrible Ms Bullingham was! And the most awful thing was she could tell that Ms Bullingham had prepared dinner. It was spaghetti with bolognese sauce. The smell was inviting, but Bonnie refused to eat it if that horrible woman had prepared it. She sat down with a loud ‘thump’ to be just as unladylike as she pleased. 

“Why Bonnie! You look vile! What have you done to yourself, you little wretch? And your hair, I guess you couldn’t be bothered to brush it. And that dress is simply awful!” Ms Bullingham ranted. “And you, Mr James I am shocked,” she continued, “hasn’t your daughter got any manners? And her wardrobe. Hasn’t she got any nice clothes? And her attitude. She has been totally abusing me while I try to help her. And I’d also like to say she hasn’t studied at al-”

“ Enough.” Bonnie’s father said sternly. “You may let me know of any troubles with Bonnie  in private. We shall not discuss my daughter in this manner,” he finished. Ms Bullingham turned bright red, like an ugly ruby.  “Um, yes. Why of course, what was I thinking?” she muttered. 

“ Now, shall we enjoy this fabulous meal you’ve very kindly prepared for us, Ms Bullingham? I wouldn’t want it to get cold!” 

A tense silence hung over the meal as they ate. Every bite was painful for Bonnie, but she didn’t want to upset her father. Finally, after a long silence her father began to instruct Ms Bullingham.

“I expect to see you here at 8:30 in the morning on the dot. Bonnie knows her schedule and she will have a harp lesson at 3:45. Her teacher is called Carlo Dean and you may do what you like in the hour of Bonnie’s lesson. Please make sure she eats enough and is staying hydrated.”

“Of course, of course. I will take care of Bonnie as if she were my own child,” Ms Bullingham said. 

“Actually, Ms Bullingham,” Bonnie said through gritted teeth, “I would prefer if you didn’t take care of me as if I was your child. Because I’m not your child. I have a mother. And no one, NO ONE will replace her.” she spat at Ms Bullingham. 

“Oh my, Bonnie Crapatha Sillystone! You really have quite a temper today, don’t you? Well have you taken into consideration what I would prefer? I would prefer you didn’t speak to me in that manner. I think you are a horrible child! Your mother must have really been just as awful. I’m quite glad she passed away. And I als-”

“Oh my Ms Bully Ham Sandwich!” Bonnie yelled. “You really suck and have no manners whatsoever! I’d like to dump you into the rubbish like I dumped my mouldy ham sandwich yesterday! How would you like that? And don’t you dare make fun of my name. Ms Bully and Mouldy Ham Sandwich is more of a name you should make fun of! That’s right, your disgusting, mouldy name!”

“Now, now bonnie! If I am to take care of you we must get al-”

“ENOUGH!” Bonnie’s father screamed. “ Off to bed Bonnie. Ms Bullingham, I’d like to speak to you once Bonnie is in bed.” He sounded irritated and tired. The two things he never was. 

Sunlight poured through Bonnie’s window and her books scattered along the floor somehow reminded her of her heated argument with Ms Bullingham. She heard a knock on the door. Just great. She walked downstairs in no particular hurry and opened the door. She decided to pretend there had never been an argument last night. 

“Good morning, Ms Bullingham!” she greeted her, smiling. She noticed Ms Bullingham wasn’t alone. A plump lady with black hair tied up stood behind Ms Bullingham, carrying a large handbag. “Oh, who's that? A friend of yours?”

“Bonnie, I’d like to introduce you to Ms Starebottom.” Bonnie giggled. Stare-bottom! Calmly, she replied, “Er, nice to meet you Ms Starebottom!”

“Pleased to meet you, Bonnie. I’d like to correct you on my name: it’s pronounced Ms Sta-ree-bottom. But don’t worry, many people mix it up! I’m here to help Ms Bullingham with the cleaning.”

“May we come in?” Ms Bullingham said,  narrowing her eyes at Bonnie. Bonnie glared back at her. At least Ms Starebottom seemed like a nice lady. “Of course,” Bonnie almost shouted. “Shoes off,” she instructed the ladies firmly, “please.” 

“What a lovely house. I used to live in a Victorian house as a child too!” 

“Dad! They’re here!” Bonnie called her father. 

“They?”

“Ms Starebottom is here to clean,” she explained, “apparently!”

“Okay, I’ll be down in just a second!”

When he arrived at the door he greeted them politely and explained he would return for lunch. 

Bonnie ate breakfast and began her homework. With no warning, Ms Starebottom and Ms Bullingham stormed into the room. 

“Bonnie! Great job you are studying!” they chorused. 

“Why don’t you clean your room, practise harp, help us clean and maybe we could also do so-”

“No! We’re starting with cleaning. So me and Ms Bullingham were thinking about how you still own all these childish items. We think it’s time for you to get rid of them and focus on your studies.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right Ms Starebottom.”

“Yes. Your good old friend here is always right!” She boasted to Ms Bullingham. She really did deserve it. 

“Yes well let’s not start arguing. We’re here to help Bonnie, not fight among ourselves.”

“Hmph. Well, I suppose I’ll help Bonnie while you clean everything else. Her room is the messiest.”

“Of course you give me the bigger job!”

“Of course the person who said not to argue is arguing!”

“Well you’re the one continuing the argument, not me!”

“I’m speechless.” Ms Starebottom said. “Well Bonnie, what do you want to do first?”

“Practise harp and finish my homework.”

“Well then go ahead and finish your homework while I tidy things up. Then I’ll come and listen to you play the harp. I used to play the harp once too!” A wave of relief washed over Bonnie. At least she was stuck with the nice one. But she was completely mistaken in thinking this. When she finished her homework, her room was a totally different place. Where her blue bed once was, a pink one replaced it. Her teal carpet was now pink. Her covers were pink. Her wardrobe was pink. It was like someone had dropped a bucket of pink paint on her room. She cringed at the awful colour. Pink was beautiful, but too much was terrible. And Billy Black was gone. Ms Starebottom was in the corner, an evil grin spread across her face. “Now, now, Bonnie! Don’t be so shocked. Now your room suits you much better, don’t you think? And your wardrobe has been replaced with clothes suited to you. Why don’t you change out of your pyjamas and try them on?” Bonnie nearly toppled over like a stick. At least some new clothes would be nice. But boy was she wrong. She opened the wardrobe doors, hoping to find a comfy t-shirt and jeans, but she was greeted with tons of frilly pink dresses and skirts and frilly white shirts and socks. She slammed the door shut and turned to face Ms Starebottom. “What have you done?” she cried. “Just a little rearranging, darling!” she said innocently. Bonnie’s inner beast gleamed with anger. She slammed her book shut, slammed the door behind her and stormed out the front door. There she found her father, sitting on a bench. She ran to him. 

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetie. I just feel like our house is gone. I went inside and I just couldn’t bear it.”

“It was Ms Bullingham and her so-called cleaner! She ruined my room and my wardrobe. Now my only clothes are frilly pink dresses!”

“I’m so sorry Bonnie. I just didn’t know. I should’ve jus-”

“Don’t be. You couldn’t have known. Evil people don’t just hurt others. They are proud that they are evil. What may seem evil to us is doing good to them. And that’s why you couldn’t have known. Because every word coming out of that lady’s mouth was a lie. A big fat lie, just like her big fat bottom she never got out of our house. And her fat nosy-nose, stuck inside everyone’s business. But we can change that. We will change that. I promise you.”

“Thank you, Bonnie. Now the first step is to kick her out of the house!”

“Yeah! Let’s do this!”