Mel bit her lip and looked cautiously back at her. “Is it okay? I mean…” She swallowed and felt her gut coiling into a stressful mess. “You don’t think any… any less of me, do you?”
“Of course not!” Ruby appeared almost disgusted at the notion and rubbed her palm against the back of Mel’s fingers, which made Mel relax. “So is it just words jumping about that you have trouble with or…?”
“Sometimes I get letters mixed up: B and D; O and C. Sometimes I read words wrong because the letters look mixed up. And I prefer to use a laptop than write by hand. Certain fonts are more difficult for me to read than others.” She grinned. “They did a study.”
“On fonts? What came out top?”
“Helvetica, or Arial, I think.”
Ruby nodded. “If I ever write you a letter, I’ll try to remember.” The image of Ruby writing Mel a love letter, and of her specifically choosing a font that Mel could read, made Mel’s body temperature rise. Her hand, still cosy between Ruby’s, tingled. “I can’t believe no one thought to test you at school though.” Ruby seemed upset about that.
“It wasn’t exactly a well-known condition when I went to school.”
“Of course. Oh, I remember.”
“Which is why you need to get this Francesca to study support as soon as possible. It must be awful for her, trying to do a degree when she’s struggling so much to read.”
Ruby deflated somewhat. “I don’t know how I’m going to broach the subject, even. She doesn’t trust me in any sense of the word.” She hung her head.
“Try. She needs your help.”
Ruby nodded and sighed deeply.
Their hands were still joined, both of Ruby’s around Mel’s one. Mel gazed down at their hands, noting the difference in colour: the orange freckles on her own skin were so unlike the dark moles that dusted Ruby’s. Mel’s hands were slightly bigger too, her fingers longer and her nails shorter.
Ruby noticed Mel’s attention where they touched and carefully dropped her hold. She wrapped her arms around herself and smiled, all traces of her crying gone. Her gaze settled on Mel for a beat, and then flicked down to her bag. “Oh, we’d better have some lunch, otherwise my stomach will be growling while I’m elbow-deep in fertiliser.”
“Ah yes,” Mel teased. “The seedlings will be getting fed and we won’t have been.”
“A tragedy.”
“Exactly.”
Chapter 16
Ruby pondered all she had learned during the afternoon’s garden group. Having proved herself to be a calm and helpful teacher, Chelsea was in charge of helping the others sow sunflower seeds.
“I hope you’re all making sure your seeds are the right way up, and watered well,” Ruby said as she watched over Chelsea’s ministrations. “We’ll be having a competition.”
“I think whoever has the most yellow sunflower should get the top prize,” Michael said. Everyone laughed.
Mrs Denzie’s mouth had been stuck at lemon-tasting level since Mel had poked her fingers into Ruby’s trouser pocket to grab a pencil.
“What about the tallest?”
A cheer went up.
“And we’ll work in teams,” Mel continued. “Whichever team grows the tallest one will get a prize.”
“I like that idea better,” Michael agreed.
Mel sent him a wink.
Ruby watched the kids sow seeds and label them individually. She liked the variety name of the sunflower they were using for the competition: Titan. It sounded strong and sturdy and reminded her of the university building: tall and indestructible.
Maybe it reminded her a little tiny bit of Mel as well. Mel was tall, and she’d been through a lot, Ruby reckoned. Going through forty years of not being able to read, and not being given a reason other than ‘special needs’, must have been rough for her. She seemed so intelligent, so articulate. Ruby would never have guessed she had dyslexia.
Mel’s hand on Ruby’s arm made her start. Her gaze flicked from Mrs Denzie, who was eyeing them disapprovingly, and then back to Mel. “Can we not?” Ruby hissed.
Mel glanced over to Mrs Denzie and rolled her eyes. “Sorry.”
“You don’t look it.”
Mel put her hands up. “Oh no, I am sorry. Just not for touching your arm.” She frowned at Mrs Denzie. “This is stupid. I’m not doing anything.”
After stomping over in her designer wellies, Mrs Denzie stood in front of them, expression determined. “I’m going to have to do something about this.”
“Please,” Ruby replied, her gaze flicking desperately around the allotment. “There’s no need to. We’re not doing anything.” She stepped away.
Mel folded her arms and rolled her head back.
“I’ve asked you—politely, I might add—and you continue to…”
“We’re not.” Ruby took another step backwards.
“This is getting a bit silly now.” Mel sighed and gestured towards the children. “They don’t care. No one is suddenly becoming gay because we’re touching in a way that friends do. Stop making a big thing about it.”
“You have no idea what is going on in those children’s heads. You have no idea how disturbed they are by your antics.” Mrs Denzie was spitting the words out as if they were on fire.
“We’ll stop. We won’t touch.” Panic rolled inside Ruby. “Will we?” She didn’t care that the look she sent Mel was pleading.
Mel blinked in confusion, then sighed and shook her head.
Relief flooded Ruby’s belly. True to her word, Mel remained at a distance during the rest of the session.
That evening, after dinner with her daughters during which they had chattered about their days while Ruby remained thoughtfully eating and staring into space, she went online and searched for the term. She read that people with dyslexia don’t learn any more slowly than people without, apart from in the area of reading. She learned that there was a version relating to numbers—dyscalculia—a condition which included weak mental arithmetic skills, difficulty remembering or understanding basic calculations, and an aversion to maths.
Mel didn’t seem to have dyscalculia, but Ruby forced herself to remember that it was probably not something Mel shouted about. She certainly hadn’t with her dyslexia. She cast her mind back over their various outings together. She’d never once seen Mel read, not properly. This surprised her. They’d been to a restaurant together, so she assumed Mel had read the menu. She did remember that Mel had ordered a plain cheese and tomato pizza; perhaps Mel hadn’t wanted to spend so much time over reading the menu. Perhaps she had felt worried that Ruby would cotton on to her difficulties.
That made Ruby feel bad. She wished Mel had told her earlier—then she could have worn her glasses and perhaps chosen something more interesting.
The aquarium had been a lovely day out. There had been information points in front of every tank, but she couldn’t remember Mel ever going up to one to read it. Mel had seemed content to watch the fish and to listen to Ruby drone on about them.
Her stomach hurt, and she rubbed her midriff. Chloe, ever the sensitive of her two daughters, glanced over from where she was seated, her legs thrown over the side of the armchair. The television was showing some reality show that the girls had wanted to watch. Chloe slid off the armchair and moved towards her mother. “All right?”
“Yes, lovely. I’m fine.”
Chloe’s eyes flicked to Ruby’s belly. “You got your period or…”
“No, no. I’m good.”
Chloe twisted her lips. “Want a cuddle?”
“That would be lovely,” Ruby almost-whined, holding an arm open when Chloe settled next to her.
Chloe smelled of clean deodorant and hair dye. She’d coloured some of her hair purple, which Ruby had been dismayed by—those beautiful blonde locks that she’d brushed every day until Chloe was f
ifteen, tainted by indigo streaks. It’ll wash out. She pressed her nose into Chloe’s hair and squeezed her.
“Bad day at work?”
“The morning was a bit crap,” Ruby admitted, sighing deeply.
Jasmine looked over from her armchair, her untainted blonde hair straightened within an inch of its life. Neither of my girls are happy with their wavy hair. What is that about? “What happened?” Jasmine asked.
“I have a student that’s struggling.” Ruby sighed affectionately at the admission. Her student was struggling, not kicking off or causing trouble, or being rude to her just for the sake of making her life hell. She felt bad that she hadn’t known what the issue was, and about the way she had reacted, but she was happy that the next time she saw the girl, she could talk to her about it properly and offer a solution.
“That sucks,” Jasmine said before turning back to the television.
“Is she okay?” Chloe asked, her big green eyes blinking up at her.
“I’m hoping she will be. Once I get her sorted with some help.”
Chloe squeezed her back and nodded against her shoulder, moving her attention back to the television. “Good.” She patted her mother’s knee. “You’re a good teacher, Mum.”
“Thank you, lovely.”
Ruby’s phone rang on Saturday morning, and she raced to get it. No one ever phoned her; somehow, she knew it would be Mel. As expected, Mel’s name was plastered across her phone screen.
“Hiya, Mel.”
“Hey. How’s your weekend going?”
Ruby flopped back onto the sofa and beamed, allowing a pleased hum to escape. “Okay. Bit boring today. Mostly housework. Walk the dog.” She glanced over at Barney, who had decided to roll onto her back in her dog bed with her feet in the air, her tongue hanging out. “Who is currently upside down and exposing herself. I think she’s waiting for a fella.”
Mel chuckled. “Little hussy.”
“That she is.” Ruby moved the phone to her other ear so she could lift the cup of coffee she’d just made to her lips. “Please tell me you called me to invite me out.”
“I did.”
“Brilliant. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, as it’s a nice day, and I’ve not had any lunch yet, I was hoping…”
Ruby withheld a smile and waited.
“Perhaps you’d maybe like to go for a picnic?”
“Sounds lovely. Where?”
“Is there a nice park near you? We came to mine last time.”
Ruby remembered their dog walk and the café visit. The memory was a happy one. “There’s Queen’s Park, just down the road from me.”
“I’ll do the picnic. Sandwiches okay?”
“Not tuna, but yes anything else.”
“You don’t like tuna? And there was me thinking you were a fish-loving person.”
“I like other fish. Just not tuna. Pregnancy incident when I was carrying Jasmine. Serious aversion since. Lots of vomiting involved.”
“Okay, okay, I won’t make tuna sandwiches.”
“Thank you.”
“See you at about one-ish?”
“Meet you by the swings.”
“All right.”
Ruby ended the call, beaming from ear to ear. She hopped into her kitchen, scouring cupboards for some sweet things she could provide. She found cans of soft drink and packed a variety so Mel could choose what she liked. She also discovered some cupcakes that were bordering on out of date. She checked them top and bottom for any signs of green, furry growths, decided they were fine, and added them to her stash. The whole lot went into a large bag.
The park was in walking distance from her house. Ruby pulled on her trainers and strolled out into the sunshine. The girls were out, so she scrawled a note and made sure she had her phone: that way if they could reach her if they needed her. The sunshine made her squint, but Ruby turned her face into it, sighing as the warm rays caressed her face. She’d grabbed a floaty scarf but had forgone her beige jacket in favour of a purple mackintosh, just in case of showers. Must be prepared.
When she turned through the archway of the park, she immediately spotted Mel’s car in the car park; the woman herself was leaning against the gate. Ruby lifted a hand in greeting, and Mel crossed the distance between them to pull her into a hug.
Mel smelled like flowers and her hair was sleek and loose, and shone with golden streaks in the sunshine. She was wearing a leather jacket, jeans, a black-and-white chequered blouse, and her customary walking boots. A cool box hung from its handle over her arm, a picnic blanket tucked atop it.
“Hello,” Mel said as they broke apart.
“Lovely to see you.” Ruby’s gaze scanned the park. “Where did you want to sit?”
“I already found the perfect spot.” She led her to a small grassy clearing, with a gnarly oak tree a few feet away. At Ruby’s nod, Mel spread the blanket out on the grass and sat down.
Ruby sat opposite her, so close their knees nearly touched. She chose to stay so close and eagerly wiggled her fingers at the cool box Mel had brought. “What did you bring?”
“What did you bring?” Mel asked, eyeing Ruby’s bag.
A group of children dashed past them, and Mel’s gaze followed them before returning to Ruby’s bag.
“Just some goodies.” Ruby obliged, opening the bag and laying out various cans onto the blanket. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
When Ruby pulled the plastic box from her bag and unclipped the top, Mel’s eyes became wide. “Oh, cake.”
“Cake, indeed.”
Mel scuffed her palms together and grinned.
“But you don’t get cake until you’ve finished your greens.”
“I’m afraid the sandwiches are cheese and pickle. No green in them at all.”
“You won’t get cake, then,” Ruby said mock-seriously.
Mel shrugged. “Shame.” She unloaded the sandwiches and put them on a plastic plate. “The pickle has vegetables in it. And fruit.”
“Apples?”
“Yep.”
“They’ll do. You can have cake.”
Mel laughed and placed the plate between them. She opened a packet of crisps and nestled it into the blanket so it wouldn’t fall over. “Honestly, help yourself.” She popped open a can of ginger beer with a fizz and sipped. “Oh, that’s fantastic.”
Ruby opened a can of fizzy orange and sipped at the sweet drink, allowing the bubbles to play over her tongue. There was something fresh about being outside with a cold drink, especially when the weather was fine, even if it was a bit chilly. She relished her scarf and set her can of drink aside to tuck into the sandwiches.
They were neat, well-filled, and cut into triangles. The care Mel had taken to make them made Ruby feel like she was glowing inside. The leaves from the oak tree caused the sunlight to dapple around them, and the regular screams and thumps from the play area were muffled as they drifted by. Birds sang above, twittering out their enjoyment of the day. Ruby wondered whether there were baby birds in the tree and the parents were singing their joy at having raised a family. She hoped so. It was a nice thought.
“I did some research…” Ruby said after a few minutes of silence, other than the munching of sandwiches and crisps. When she looked up, she realised Mel had a crisp crumb on her chin, but Ruby just smiled to herself. “…into dyslexia.” She spoke quietly but nonchalantly, hoping that she would express how Mel’s admission hadn’t changed things between them.
“Did you?” Mel appeared amused, but the look in her eyes was tender, as if she was pleased that Ruby was interested in that small part of her.
“Yeah.” Ruby sucked some pickle off her thumb and reached for a crisp. She popped it in her mouth and crunched before wiping the sides of her mouth with her fingers. “I feel a bit more inform
ed generally about the condition now.”
“You feel better about talking to… Francesca?”
“Hopefully. I hope I can actually talk to her. That she doesn’t just close down and fly off the handle.”
“All you can do is try.”
Ruby sipped her drink, then nodded and patted Mel’s hand. “Thanks for your help. I’d never have realised without you.”
Mel continued to gaze at her, her eyes shining. “Unfortunately, I can’t resist helping a pretty lady. It’s just in my nature.” She was being chivalrous, but Ruby could see the sincerity behind it.
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Ruby said, lowering her gaze.
Mel’s fingers touched Ruby’s, and Mel shook her head when Ruby looked back up. “I don’t.”
A pang of guilt mixed with frustration gathered inside Ruby. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked down at where Mel’s fingers touched her. “We have a problem, and, try as I might, I haven’t yet found a solution.”
Obviously sensing that Ruby was going to tell her the reason for them not touching one another or getting close, Mel sat back, her fingers leaving Ruby’s. Her gaze was steady and gentle.
“The problem is…” Ruby sighed. She tapped her forefinger on her half-empty can of drink. “I’m a teacher, and you’re a student.”
“Right.” Mel nodded, indicating she understood so far.
“The university has a policy against students and members of staff… having relationships.”
Realisation dawned on Mel’s pale features. She squinted in the sunlight and bit her lip.
“So, friendship is frowned upon, but allowed, and r-romantic relationships… definitely not allowed.”
“Wait, let me get this straight.” They both rolled their eyes at Mel’s choice of words. “So, because you’re a member of staff, and I’m a student, we’re not allowed to have a relationship?”
“That’s right.” Ruby shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself, resting her can on her elbow.
“But aren’t those rules to protect the vulnerable party, usually the student, from being treated unfairly, or given extra privileges?”
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