“Exactly.”
“But you don’t directly teach me. I’m not going to be doing any of your classes.”
“True.”
A smile began to form on Mel’s face. “So, it’s not a teacher-student relationship. You’re not responsible for any of my learning.” Her joy grew. “It would be like an English tutor dating a music student.”
Ruby wrinkled her nose. “It’s still inappropriate.”
“Why?” Mel’s question wasn’t critical, and it wasn’t charged with derision.
“Because I could still be seen as giving you special treatment.”
“When?”
Ruby stopped. She pushed her eyebrows down and opened her mouth to answer, but no answer came. I was so sure about this. Where has my argument gone? “I’m not sure.”
“Would you have to mark any of my logs? Or my portfolio at the end of the course?”
“I don’t think so.”
Mel flicked her eyebrows up once and clasped her hands on her raised knees. She pressed her lips together and trailed her gaze down to the empty packet of crisps between them. She grasped the packet, producing a crackling noise as she scrunched it up, and then she pushed the bag into the cool box.
“So it… It’s okay? For me to date you?” Ruby blinked hard.
“I’m, what, five years older than you? It’s not like you’d be dating an eighteen-year-old.”
Ruby wrinkled her nose again, but a laugh bubbled up inside her. She let it out, and out with it came the frustration, the fear, and the guilt from the last few weeks. It was okay. Of course it was okay. How could she have thought otherwise?
“I think we should tell your head of department though,” Mel said. Then she stopped and her cheeks pinked. “Oh. I mean. If you still do want to…”
“Date you? Of course I do.” Ruby was giggling like a teenager, sitting on a picnic blanket in the middle of a park. She placed her can down on the blanket before shuffling closer to Mel and then sitting back on her heels. “I really want to,” she said, a bit more soberly.
Mel looked at her, and a slow smile spread over her face. The sunlight caught a few pale streaks in her hair, and Ruby wondered whether they were grey or simply sun-bleached. They’d spent every Wednesday afternoon together, outside, for the last two months. They’d enjoyed one another’s company and chatted about their lives. Ruby already felt closer to Mel than she’d felt with anyone in a very long time.
Mel hadn’t moved, not even when Ruby had knelt in front of her. Their knees were touching on the blanket. Slowly lifting one hand, Ruby decided to throw caution to the wind and tucked a piece of fly-away hair behind Mel’s ear. Her fingers lingered against the skin of her neck, and Mel visibly shivered when Ruby trailed them downwards, stopping at the collar of Mel’s jacket. She fingered the soft leather, rubbing it between thumb and finger, before sinking her fingers into Mel’s soft hair just behind her ear.
Seemingly waking from a long slumber, Mel’s hand rose to touch Ruby’s cheek to take her neck and pull her in. Their lips touched, and Ruby felt a swooping sensation make her head spin. Mel’s lips were so silky she had to close her eyes.
Hunger that wasn’t related to food rolled within Ruby as the taste of pickle and ginger touched her tongue. Her nose filled with the scent of flowers as they kissed, and without the usual compost, Mel smelt fresh and clean. Finally—finally—they were actually here—kissing. The instinct to shift closer, to sit in Mel’s lap or push her down onto the picnic blanket, nearly consumed Ruby, but her kiss-addled brain remembered where they were.
The pull and tug between wanting Mel and not wanting to do anything that would get her into trouble was distant, as if it had happened years ago—decades maybe. There was just the two of them, soft lips against soft lips; the birds twittering overhead as if they agreed. They felt close, as if their pulses were synced, or their blood had mingled. The thought made Ruby want to giggle, but the press of Mel’s lips against her own stilled the humour inside her. She wanted to kiss Mel forever.
Mel made a small noise in her throat, as if she were sinking into a warm bath. Luxuriously, Ruby made the noise back, hoping it would flutter away into silence on the breeze. The noise was for Mel and nobody else. It connected them.
When the kiss broke, Ruby sat back, keeping one hand in Mel’s hair and the other around her waist, where it had drifted.
Mel’s lips parted, and she showed her teeth when she smiled. “Oh.” She laughed. “Am I allowed to say ‘Wow’?”
“Not if I say it first,” Ruby replied, her voice sounding very far away. “Wow!”
Mel looked around them but seemed to want to stay touching Ruby. “So is this our first date?”
“I think our first date was that play you took me to.”
“Ah. Yes.” Mel cleared her throat and brushed her thumbs over the sides of Ruby’s neck.
Ruby stretched her neck to one side and lowered her lashes, goose bumps rising along her shoulders and arms. I love how she touches me. I love it already.
“Hardly fair to call it our first date though.”
“Why?” Ruby opened her eyes properly again and pouted, making Mel’s happiness surge.
“I never got a goodnight kiss.”
“Is that a prerequisite for a first date?”
“If there’s going to be a second one, yes.”
“Oh.” Ruby leaned forwards again and brushed her lips to Mel’s.
Mel gathered her around the waist and pulled her closer, their fronts touching now. Conscious of their location, and of the kids all around them, they kept the kiss light and moderately chaste.
When Mel’s tongue touched her bottom lip, Ruby broke the kiss and pulled back. They were both breathing deeply. Someone wolf-whistled behind them, although Ruby was unsure whether it was just a kid playing or that someone had actually noticed them. She blushed anyway.
Touching a finger to her lips, she slid to sit next to Mel, slipping her hand, palm up, underneath Mel’s. “So, I guess we’re… dating?”
“Going out. Seeing each other. Whatever you want to call it.” Mel pressed her lips against Ruby’s cheek. “I would very much like to do all those things, if that’s okay?”
“I think it is.”
They looked around at the mess they’d made with lunch, and Ruby realised they hadn’t eaten pudding.
“You definitely deserve cake, now,” Ruby teased, handing Mel one.
“Because I ate my greens?” Mel was grinning proudly.
“Because you kiss like an angel.” Ruby was aware she didn’t usually say such bold things. She wasn’t the sort of person who wore her heart on her sleeve. But she trusted Mel, and Mel obviously trusted her. The grin that spread over Mel’s face at her words made it clear she’d said the right thing.
Chapter 17
April blossomed into fantastic sunshine and the occasional wonderful shower that glazed everything with glistening droplets of water. The pier, stretching out in front of them, glittered with an array of colours, and the people walking up and down all seemed very happy.
Everything seems wonderful. I wonder why. Mel rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. She knew why. She was finally allowed to do all the things she wanted to do when Ruby was around. Stand close to her, stroke her cheek, and hold her hand.
Of course, they had refrained from any personal displays of affection while they were surrounded by eight- and nine-year olds, and especially when Mrs Denzie was looking their way. Mel couldn’t help the occasional fleeting look, or taking in the way Ruby’s T-shirt rode up ever so slightly when she bent over a seedling.
She sipped from her coffee and leant back to stretch as much of her body out as she could in the cab of the ambulance truck she was currently occupying. She was in the driver’s seat, and James was sprawled over the passenger’s seat, a knowing grin on his face.
Smacking him with a limp hand, Mel grinned back and let out a deep sigh. “I’m sure you were like this when you started going out with Jade,” she said.
“Yes, and I distinctly remember you taking the mickey the whole time.”
“True.” Mel stared out the windscreen, watching a few pre-school-aged children running about on the beach. They had a good view when they parked up on the seafront in the centre of town. It was a great place to do “stand-by” when they were waiting for a job, or having a coffee, watching the world go by. Mel sipped semi-hurriedly, knowing that their radio would buzz and they’d be forced to leave at any moment.
“So let me have my fun.” When Mel turned to him, he was studying her closely. “You really like her.”
“I do.” Her cheeks felt hot.
“You’ve never been like this about a girl before.” He nodded, submissively. “Sorry. Woman.”
“Not since… Rach, I suppose.”
He shook his head in an adamant way. “She’s nothing like Rach, is she? She’s not thrown you out the minute you told her you were dyslexic. Or treated you like a kid who can’t do anything for themselves.”
Her throat tightening, Mel tried to push away the memory. “So far, she’s treated me just fine. Nothing like Rach. Ugh.” She grimaced at the topic of conversation and at the dregs of coffee as they scratched the back of her mouth. She couldn’t hide her fear from her crewmate. “But it’s early days.”
“You think she could change her mind?”
“Rach did. She seemed perfectly fine with it until… until it was an inconvenience.”
“Ah. The café incident.” Although James’s tone was humorous, the look he gave her was sympathetic. “Has Ruby tried to order food for you?”
“She’s not had the chance.” Mel sighed. “Still time though.”
“And she actually liked your specs?”
Chuckles bubbled up inside Mel. “She said she did.”
“Well, that’s good, surely? Rach wasn’t so complimentary, from what I remember you saying. Didn’t you say she made a face whenever you had to wear them?”
Mel shrugged and then nodded.
“Stop worrying. Like I’ve said a hundred times, Rach was a bitch. Who treats someone like that?”
Mel imagined her emotions flying over the beach and getting caught up in a wave. “Not Ruby.” She opened a flapjack she’d bought and bit into it. The sweet, buttery taste helped her to relax.
“Must be love,” he replied, shrinking back when her hand flew out to smack him again. “Hey. Workplace assault.”
“Oh, shut up, you plonker.”
He laughed. “Eat your flapjack, woman.” That earned him a third slap.
Chapter 18
Unfortunately, Ruby still hadn’t managed to catch Francesca to talk to her about her reading. Every single time a lesson had ended, she’d scooted off without so much as a good-bye, and Ruby had been left half-relieved and half-frustrated.
Mel knew this from the fact that Ruby hadn’t spoken about the subject, and one day, as May rolled in with warm sunshine and blossoming flowers, she gave her a stern look over a coffee at her bungalow.
Without having to talk about it, Ruby knew what the look meant. She needed to talk to Francesca and sort out the problem. She was scared of a meltdown and half-hoped the problem would go away by itself. But if Francesca failed everything because she hadn’t had the correct support that came with a firm diagnosis, or if she simply dropped out one day, Ruby knew how devastated she’d be about it. And it tugged at her heart, as if the thought pulled the organ away from its moorings leaving it damaged, and separate, and useless.
So one day, a Wednesday morning, right before a lecture on tendons and ligaments, Ruby set her jaw, squared her shoulders, and prepared herself for whatever was to come.
Pulling Francesca aside the minute she walked into the theatre, Ruby led her over to the computer she used to give her lectures, out of earshot of the other students. “Francesca.”
“Yes, Ruby.” I see we’ve dropped the ‘Miss’ name. That’s promising.
“I need to speak with you about something.”
Francesca looked at the floor. Gone was the rude and witty girl Ruby was so used to. In her place stood a destitute student, with no spark radiating from her and a mouth that looked like it had been tugged into a frown for weeks. Dark circles underscored her eyes, and all the fight had left her.
I’ve never seen anyone so depressed. I have got to say something now.
“I’ve noticed, over the last few months, that you’ve been struggling.”
Francesca shrugged.
“And I think I have a solution, or at least a path to a solution. Would you mind if we discussed it after the lecture?”
“Whatever.” No rudeness coloured Francesca’s words, just hopelessness and sadness.
Ruby nodded and laid a hand on Francesca’s arm. “Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”
During the lecture, Ruby began to notice things. She spoke a lot and brought up a huge amount of words on the projector, with nothing in the way of showing rather than explaining. Her mind half on the things she was teaching, she wondered whether she really should change the way her classes were delivered. More videos, maybe. And a lot more pictures. And my seminars need to be more hands-on. Less wordy. It would be more interesting, even for those people who don’t struggle to read.
Her gaze kept flicking to Francesca, who sat with her notebook, her eyes dark and downward-cast, a pen held tightly between her fingers. She wrote nothing. She didn’t look up once, at least not when Ruby was looking at her. She sat away from her fellow classmates, did not interact, and didn’t engage in the lesson in any way. Ruby felt like crying.
As the lecture ended, Francesca stepped up to Ruby and nodded, her bottom lip between her teeth. “What did you want?”
“I have a theory.” Ruby watched everyone else leave before she continued. “I think you’re struggling to read.”
Francesca blinked up at her with wide eyes, finally making eye contact.
“I don’t know if you’ve always struggled, always battled your way through without much of a care for books, but I suspect you worked incredibly hard to get into university. Am I wrong?”
“Everyone worked hard. It’s a hard course to get onto.”
At least she isn’t denying it. “I know. But am I wrong about you struggling to read?”
“Are you calling me thick?” A match had lit in Francesca’s eyes.
Ruby took a small step backwards. “Not at all. I think you’re a very intelligent woman.”
“You are though. Because who can’t read when they’re eighteen?”
“Some people struggle.”
“Yeah. Thick people. People who fucked around at school and college, if they even bloody went to college.”
“No. That’s not true.”
Menace burned brightly in Francesca’s eyes. “There is nothing wrong with me. I’m not thick and I don’t struggle.” Tears tumbled down her cheeks as she spoke, and Ruby reached out a hand to her, instinctually.
“I didn’t—”
“Who can’t bloody read?” Francesca shouted, her face turning beetroot. “I can bloody read, Miss.” So the distasteful name was back. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me. It’s your lectures that are shit.”
Ruby felt tears pooling in her own eyes, and a lump formed in her throat the size of a county. “I’m—”
“They’re so boring, and because of that they go in one side and come out the other.” Francesca smacked the side of her own head with force. Then she knocked Ruby’s hovering hand away, the contact ringing like a snap through the auditorium. “I want to learn.” Her voice was pleading, but the anger in her expression was still evident. “And I can’t fucking do it.”
At that
, she raced from the theatre, the door banging sharply behind her.
I’m such a failure. Ruby sunk to the floor, her hands covering her face. Her whole body shook with sobs, right there on the theatre floor, and she wished that the world would swallow her up. I’m the reason she can’t learn. And she won’t let me help her. I’m such a failure.
Mel was just coming out of a very interesting lecture about the anatomy of the foot when she nearly skidded headlong into the dark-haired girl she’d walked past a few weeks ago. The girl looked upset again, and somehow Mel knew right away who the girl was, and why she was in such a state.
She grabbed the girl by the arm and forced her to stop. “Wait. Francesca?”
Dark eyes set into tear-streaked skin looked up at her. Francesca let out a strained sob and tried to pull her arm away.
“It’s okay. My name’s Mel.” She rubbed her hand up and down Francesca’s arm where she’d grabbed her, to sooth the muscle and encourage her to stay.
Francesca seemed to sag where she stood. She nodded, as if to give permission for Mel to continue. She looked exhausted and pitiful.
Mel forced a gentle expression onto her face and looked around her. Narrowing her eyes in thought, she guided Francesca down the corridor and towards Ruby’s office. The door was unlocked, and Alexander was at his desk. When he saw them, he immediately stood up and went to the kettle to fill it.
“How do you take your tea?” he asked, eyeing Francesca with a tentative questioning look.
Mel tried to send him her thanks through a look.
He nodded towards her as acknowledgement, his smart suit and tie a navy blue today, which brought out the deep blue of his eyes.
“One… one sugar,” Francesca managed, looking around her as if she had never been in the office before. Maybe she hasn’t.
Mel sat them both down on the little sofa and leant her elbows on her knees. “I’m friends with…” Clearing her throat she shook her head. “Ruby’s my friend. She’s been really concerned about you.”
The Words Shimmer Page 16