JOANNA, chapter two

TUESDAY

 

I woke up early enough so I could finally read the Rosie journal, as I hadn’t had time the night before.

Heavy stuff.   At least I knew now why my parents were so unhappy when I’d commented about her that time.  They’d actually been involved, and Auntie Shelley had actually known her.

But if my Mum was supposed to be the sensitive one back then, why was she so blind to what was happening now? 

At breakfast, while the twins were still getting dressed, the first thing Mum asked was what I’d meant the night before about things really getting out of control.

“Mum.  When you were raped, you were given the chance to leave the Program without affecting your university place.  Leaving’s been denied to Edward, unless he gives up his future.  And I’m not going to let him become another Rosie, just so your Committee can keep control.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s fairer than you’ve been to him.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Do you really think I’m going to tell you?  In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re on opposite sides.”

“Can’t we talk about this?”

“He tried, Mum.  Our P.O. tried.  N-SAC tried.  And last night, I tried.  We’re talked out.”

“Can’t we arrange for his participation to be suspended pending a review?”

“A bit late.   And anyway, you think we want to draw more attention to him?  That’s real clever, Mum.  And it’s gone beyond him now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s face it, after your first weeks, you kids virtually ran the Program.  Not in name, but nobody dared go against what you and the other girls said, certainly not Dad.  Well, we’re taking it back.”

“How?”

“Wait and see.  Can you pass me more cereal?”

I’d almost finished my second bowl by the time the twins came down.  “I gotta go.  Can’t be late this week,” I said.

 

Outside school, I met the other proggies and our whole local SAC.  Finally, a guy came running breathlessly.  “Hi, sorry, tube **cultnote was delayed.  I’m Nick Warner, N-SAC.  I’m also N-SAC rep on the National Program Committee.”  He handed out leaflets to each of us.  “This is a draft, we only had last night to put this together, you rather sprung it on us.  Which one’s Joanna?”

“Hi.”  He shook my hand.

“You sure you want to be the one taking on your mother?”

“Can you think of a better angle?”

“Nope.”

“Okay everyone.  I’m not going to tell any of you who this is about.  If you don’t know, you can’t let it slip.  Your local TV station should be here any minute.”

Sure enough, a van pulled up and a couple of men got out.

“This is Dick Transon reporting from a school in East London , where an unusual protest is about to take place against the Program.  And what makes this protest even more unusual is that it is being led by Joanna Peters, the daughter of the chairperson of the National Program Committee, Heather Peters, better known as Heather Hoover.  Joanna, can you tell us what this is all about?”

“Yes, Dick.  A rape victim was refused exemption from the Program, or to be precise, told they would only be exempted if a psychiatrist exempted them.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“That would wipe out their chance to get into university.  So the Program Committee have effectively decided that rape victims should either be tortured by being forced through the Program or punished by destroying their future.”

“And who is this rape victim?”

“Dick, I’m my mother’s daughter.  Do you really think I’d fall for the trick of revealing the identity of a rape victim live on TV, when if this was a recorded interview you’d be forced by law to delete it to protect the anonymity of the rape victim?”

“I just assumed that given all this publicity, she would want her case to be heard.”

“You assume wrongly.”

“So all you’ll say is it’s one of the girls in the Program here this week.”

“I’m saying no such thing.  The protest starts here because I go to school here and I was asked to lead the protest.  Now can we stop trying to invade privacy and tell you what we are doing?”

“Firstly, and this is official from the National Students Advisory Council, we call on all participants this week to refuse to strip, and if you are forcibly stripped to refuse all requests.  We call on all other students this week to refuse to make requests.  If that means a few bullies will get away with making all the requests, then we ask you to make up mild or silly requests to prevent them from doing so.  Finally, we ask all staff to refuse to strip participants and to ensure that participants are not forced to follow requests.  Now can I introduce the official N-SAC representative on the National Program Committee, Nick Warner.

“Hi.  I’m Nick Warner, from the Program Committee.  I confirm that this is an official request, both from a National Program Committee member and from the whole of the National Students Advisory Committee.  As far as we are concerned, from today, there is no program this week.  And we withdraw all co-operation from the Program until our demands are met.”

“And what are those demands Nick?”

“That local Student Advisory Councils should be allowed to grant exemptions from the Program where they are satisfied that there is a good reason for doing so.  We’re not asking for the world, just to allow a little humanity back into the Program.”

“What’s to stop a corrupt or manipulative local Council from undermining the Program?”

“Rules can be put in place to prevent that, once the principle is accepted.”

“Joanna, I think you have a problem.”

“Joanna Peters.”  I recognised the voice at once and looked around.

“Yes, Miss Robinson?”

“You will take off your clothes and come into school right now.”

“This is an official N-SAC supported protest, Miss Robinson,” said Nick, and “we’re asking all students and staff to co-operate so that the matters can be resolved quickly and with least disruption.”

“Joanna, these two groundsman will bring you inside and strip you if you are not naked and in school in the next minute.”

“If you’re going to strip me by force, have the guts to do it here.”

“How dare you?”

“Why should you hide it?  If you think you’re doing the right thing, get them to do it here, live on television.”

“I’m surprised and most disappointed in you Joanna Peters.  I never thought we’d have problems with you.  What your poor mother must be thinking I don’t know.”

I was wondering that myself.

“Very well,” she continued.  “Strip her.”

Some of the others surrounded me.  “No, it’s okay.  I have nothing to hide.  Let people see the true face of the program.”  They let the groundsman through.  They both looked very uncomfortable.  “It’s okay,” I assured them.  “You’re only doing your job.”

I folded my arms and refused to open them, so they had to tear my blouse and bra off.  When the strap pinged back onto my boob, one of the men apologised.

Although nakedness had never bothered me, I’d never been topless on the telly before, and I was about to be naked on the telly.

They dragged my trousers and knicks off quickly and stood up holding what was left of my clothes.

I took them from them and gave them to the reporter.  “Here, auction them off or something.  I’m sure they’ll make something for some worthy cause, like supporting rape victims.”

“Now strip the others,” ordered Miss Robinson.

I nodded to the others and they let themselves be stripped.  Then we followed Miss Robinson into school.

“Joanna.  My Office.”

Edward followed me and she turned to him and said, “I didn’t call you.”

“I’m staying,” he replied firmly, “unless you want to get a couple of your goons to drag me away.”

She smiled.  She actually smiled.

“I had an interesting phone call at home this morning.  It woke me up in fact.  It was from our local Program Officer.  He said that Nick Warner wanted to speak to me and asked me to ring him.”

I grit my teeth in anger.

She laughed slightly.  Your Nick.  He’s quite the politician, isn’t he?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that.  “He’s not my Nick,” I said bitterly.

“He didn’t betray you if that’s what you are thinking.  And if he had tried, it wouldn’t have worked.  I did convince him to tell me just why you were turning my school upside down.  I also persuaded him that I wanted to help.”

“To help?” gasped Edward.

“Do you think I want one of my brightest students to have to drop out?” she asked him. 

“I don’t get it,” I said.  “Why all that this morning?”

“According to Nick, you are showing the Program as unfeeling and inflexible, is that correct?”

I nodded.

“He suggested that it would make a better impression if I was exactly that.  After all, if the school simply gave in to you, there’s no real story, and you all end up failing school.”  She paused.  “Ed.  Can you leave us for a minute?”

I nodded and he mumbled, “I’ll wait outside.”

When he’d shut the door, she said, “Joanna.  I take it that hardly anyone knows the real reason?”

“No.  We want to keep Edward’s name out of it.”

“Good.”

“Nick was right about one thing.  We’re definitely going to make headlines.  Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For letting yourself look bad to help us.”

“As I said.   I don’t want that young man to lose everything he’s worked for.  But I was truthful about one thing out there.  You have surprised me.  You don’t usually notice anyone else.  You’re what I call self-sufficient.  What brought about the sudden change?”

Now I had to laugh.  “Would you believe the Program?”

“Yes.  I think I would.  A word of warning.   There are people a lot higher than the Program Committee who will want to fight you on this.  You may be fighting a battle you cannot win.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are some politicians who see the Program as the ideal punishment for virtually everything from bullying to lateness.  And they don’t think the Program is tough enough.  They won’t want you making it more flexible.”

“Oh.  So how does that affect us now?”

“It won’t.  I hope.  But like it or not, you’re now in politics.  And some people play dirty.  I just want you to be ready.  In the meantime, I’m still the enemy.  So forget this conversation took place and both of you go to class suitably told off.”

I was unmistakably dismissed, so I muttered a “thank you” and left.

Outside I whispered to Edward, “Act like we’ve been told off.”  I couldn’t say any more because we were surrounded by requesters.

We were trying to say “No” to them all when one of our student reps came along and said “Hey, the National Student Council has asked all students not to make requests this week, to support the protest.”

People slowly drifted away, disappointed and we went to class.

Without requests, the rest of the morning was like a normal week, except that we were naked.  Even the teachers seem to have got the message not to use us.

I almost forgot that I was naked until after lunch when one of the boys came up and demanded to finger me.

“No,” I replied.  “I’m not accepting any requests.”

“You have to.”

“I can choose what I accept.”

“You can’t refuse everything.”

“I can and I am.”

“Spread your legs for me.  You have to do that.”

“No.”

“Do it, you silly bitch.”

“That’s enough,” shouted one of the porters, who grabbed him by the collar.  “If you want to do something, complain to the Head.  Don’t get yourself in trouble.”

“Alright, I will.”  He stormed off.

“Thanks.  I’m glad you came by,” I said to the porter but he just smiled at me and walked away.

The afternoon passed peacefully, then I remembered that I had to walk home naked.  It wasn’t exactly warm, but at least there was no wind and it wasn’t raining or too cold.

I passed a newsagent and saw the board outside.  “Damn,” I thought.

I ran the rest of the way home and turned on the first news channel. 

At least I had the house to myself.  The twins stayed late on Tuesdays for tennis club as they played mixed doubles.  They were good too.  I guess knowing each other so well they think alike really helps in doubles.

Sure enough I was featured on the news, but they missed almost everything I’d tried to say and had some government spokesman saying how sad it was that the daughter of the Program Committee chair person was too cowardly to go through the Program, and did that suggest that my mother was unfit for her position.

Nearly every news channel had someone making out that the real reason for the protest was that I was scared of the Program, though most did at least play what I’d said as well.

I called Nick.  “It’s not going well,” he admitted.  “It looks like using you has backfired on us.”

“What do we do now?” I asked.

“We need some way to sink their idea that you’re just scared of the Program.  Then we can get them back onto what we’re really saying.”

“How do we do that?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted.  “But if we don’t think of something, and quickly, we are going to lose this.”

I thought of Edward and a mixture of warmth and determination swept over me.  “I’ll think of something.  Tell them, there’s another press conference in the morning before school.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

When Mum got in she was furious.  “Do you know what you’ve made me look like?”

“You?   Have you seen what your goons are saying about me?”  I turned on the first news channel.  “Wait a few minutes and you’re hear all your idiots saying how your daughter is just a liar and a coward.  I’m going out.”  I slammed the front door behind me, then realised, I still hadn’t put on any clothes.

I walked to a café, them remembered that no clothes meant no money.  Shit!  I was not going home.  No Way .  So I walked round to Granny’s.  Two women walked past me looking daggers at me.

“That’s her,” I heard one say.

“Behaving like that.   What she needs is a good fucking.”

It was so ludicrous that I laughed out loud and I was still giggling when I reached Granny Janice’s.

“Bad day?” she asked when she let me in.

I looked at her incredulously, then she smiled and I knew she was joking.  “Tea?” **cultnote she asked. Tea was Gran's "solution" to every crisis.

While the kettle was boiling, the phone rang.  Grandad Eric answered it.  “Yes, she’s here, do you…?   Hmm.   She hung up.  I think she’s on her way round.  Suppose you tell us what it’s all about.”

We sat down and I explained about Edward and abut Mum wanting to control everything.

When I told them what I’d said to Mum about not being completely over her rape and passing on her fears to me, Janice nodded.

“You knew?”

“Don’t blame your mother,” Granny said.  “Some things you can’t completely get over.  And she’s made a life for herself, not to mention done a lot to ensure that other girls don’t have to go through hell in the Program.”

“So you’re saying I’m wrong?”

She didn’t get a chance to answer as we all heard a hammering on the door.

Grandad Eric answered the door.  “Good afternoon, Heather.  Do come in.  And I’d thank you not to try to demolish our front door.”

“What’s she doing here?  Why haven’t you sent her home?”  Mum was pacing up and down angrily.  “Why…”

“Heather Peters, stop wearing a hole in the carpet and sit down,” demanded Grandad.

She slumped into a chair sullenly.  “I could lose my job over her little stunt.  How can you support her?”

“We didn’t say we did,” said Grandad.

Then Granny said simply, “because she’s right.”

I don’t know who was more surprised, Mum or me.  Mum spoke first, “How can you say that?”

“Heather, listen to yourself,” said Granny.  “You’re trying to say that keeping control of the Program is more important than a student in the Program.”

Then Grandad added, “And I never thought I’d see the day when you’d actually make things harder for another rape victim.  Or ruin their career.”

“I’m not,” she protested.  “It’s not my fault the universities act like they do.”

“That’s a poor excuse,” he said, “when you can help and won’t.”

“And how could you say those things to the press about me?” I cried.  “All I told you last night about being scared of the Program.”

“I didn’t,” she protested, shocked.  “I didn’t say a word.”  Looking at her I knew she wasn’t lying.

“Let me get this right,” said Grandad.  “You want to ensure that someone can get an exemption if they need one, but without harming their future career.”

“Yes.  Why should…  but he waved me to silence as he turned to Mum.

“And you want to ensure that only those who need exemptions can get them and feel that it’s too risky to allow that wide a discretion to local officials.”

Mum nodded.

“So we have to think of a way which satisfies both of you,” he concluded.

“There isn’t any way,” said Mum sadly.  “And if I give in now, I’ll almost certainly lose my job.”

“And even if we agreed, half the country thinks I’m just trying to escape the Program,” I said.  I explained what I’d heard the two women saying in the street. 

To my surprise Mum looked angry and said, “I’ll give them ‘needs a good fucking’.”

“It’s getting late.  I’d better go home and get to bed.  We’ve got another press conference in the morning and I still haven’t decided what to say.”

“I’ll run you home,” offered Grandad.  “Heather, you stay for a while.  See if you and your Mum can think of a way round all this.”

When he dropped me off at home, I said, “It’s all too late.  We’ve lost.”

“20 runs down and only a few overs to go,” he said.  “You’ve not lost while you’ve still a man in.” **cultnote

“Even after what the news reports said about me?  I mean, even those women believed it.”

“Do you believe it?” he asked me seriously.

“What?” I said, not getting what he was saying.

“Do you believe you’re a coward?”

“Oh,” I giggled.  “I thought you meant did I believe I needed a good fucking.”

We both laughed.

“Go on.  Bed,” he said and waited until I closed the front door.

Dad was waiting.  “Hi, Kid.  You okay?”

I ran to hug him.  “Mum and Granny Janice are trying to find a way round all this.”

“Good.  I don’t like to see two of my favourite women in all the world at loggerheads.  Oh.  Edward rang.  He was worried about you.”

How sweet.  I ran upstairs and rang him.