by A. E. Radley
“Thank you, headmaster.” She stepped around the elderly man and into the room.
She was immediately struck by how lifeless and cold it seemed. The entire school building was, of course, dated, but this room in particular seemed to have been left to languish decades ago.
Many schools in Britain were located in buildings which had been built over a hundred years ago. Willows Primary School was one such building and was in complete contrast to Alice’s previous employment in a modern inner-city school in Manchester.
She looked around the room, taking in the high ceilings and the large, single-glazed windows. The floor was built of faded wooden planks seemingly held together by an accumulation of lacquer which had been applied over the years.
There was still an old-fashioned chalkboard along one wall, though another wall had a more modern whiteboard. The furniture was old and worn, still serviceable but nothing like the new desks and chairs she was used to.
In many ways, Willows reminded her of the schools from her youth and bore little resemblance to any of the schools she had taught at during her career.
“If you need anything, then it will probably be best to speak with Miss Gibson. She knows more than I do,” Mr Hardaker said. “I’ll leave you to prepare for your lesson.”
He turned and shuffled away before she had a chance to say anything else.
Alice let out a breath and slowly circled the room to explore her new surroundings. The form room was on the first floor of the building and allowed for magnificent views of the cliffs and the English Channel in the distance. She took a small step back, her fear of heights quietly suggesting that the windows in such an old building were not as stable as they seemed.
“It’s a great view, but the kids do find it distracting. Especially when there’s a tanker tooting away.”
Alice turned around. A short, curvy woman with a blonde bob had entered the room. She hugged a bunch of folders and papers to her chest.
“I’m Lucy Gibson, general go-to person. You must be Alice Spencer?”
“I am.”
“Welcome to Willows. The building is falling down and Hardaker doesn’t know what day of the week it is, but most of the kids are okay and the village can be quite picturesque in summer,” Lucy said.
“Shame I’ve arrived in September,” Alice quipped.
“Yes,” Lucy chuckled. “It will be pretty much fog and terrible weather now until at least next June. What brings you to Fairlight, if I may ask? Obviously feel free to fudge the truth if you’re in witness protection.”
Alice smiled. She’d yet to meet anyone in Fairlight aside from her landlord. She had a feeling she’d get on well with Lucy.
“I fancied a change of pace, smaller class sizes, and the opportunity to actually get to know the children,” she explained. There was a little more to it than that, but it would do for a start.
“You’ll get all of that here. You were up in Manchester, weren’t you?” Lucy asked. It was obvious she already knew her work history.
“I was, right in the city. Very big, very busy school. I enjoyed it and had a lot of opportunities to teach different years, but I wanted something different.”
“And you heard about Fairlight, got your map and a magnifying glass out, and thought you’d come here?” Lucy joked.
It wasn’t far off the truth. When the recruitment consultant had mentioned Fairlight, she’d had no idea where it was. It had taken a Google Maps search and few clicks on the plus symbol before she found the small costal village.
“Isn’t that how all relocation decisions are made?” she replied with a grin.
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve lived here my entire life. I admire your courage to up and move yourself down here.”
“I’m not sure how courageous it was,” Alice confessed.
“You can tell me all about it after school one day,” Lucy said. “I don’t want to sound like we’re stuck in a horror movie, but we don’t get many new people in town. I’m happy to be your guide, so if you need anything either here at Willows or in general, just let me know. I’m three doors up.” She nodded toward the corridor.
“Thank you, that’s really kind of you. I’ll definitely take you up on that.” Alice had only been in Fairlight a few days, one for the initial interview three months ago, and two since she had moved. Already she was keenly aware of the close-knit community. She’d need to make an effort to settle in or else she would stick out. In Manchester, there were so many people that you were left to get on with things. Fairlight, on the other hand, seemed to be the kind of place where everyone would know their neighbours.
“Now, for the bad news,” Lucy continued. “You’re on duty at morning break in playground with me.”
All teachers loathed being on playground duty, no matter what. Standing around outside minding the children was never any fun. There were always troublemakers, bullies, scuffles, misunderstandings, tears, and tantrums. However, it came with the territory of being a teacher, and Alice knew to take it in her stride. Besides, it would help her to learn more about the children who attended Willows.
“I quit, I’m heading back to Manchester,” she joked.
“Too late, we have you now!” Lucy winked. She turned on her heel and left the room.
Alice smiled to herself. After meeting Hardaker, it was a relief to know that at least one of her co-workers was under seventy and had a sense of humour.
She looked at her watch and realised that lessons would be starting shortly. She needed to prepare to welcome her new students not just to their new form room and to herself, but also to school as a whole.
After sixteen years of teaching all ages, she’d decided to stick to teaching year one, the five- and six-year-olds just starting their official education. To her, they were the most rewarding to teach. Many of her ex-colleagues would disagree. She’d received many commiserating back pats when she told them she was leaving to teach year one in a pinprick of a village on the South Coast.
The desks were lined up in regimental rows, definitely not very welcoming or conducive to helping younger children to relax. She pulled the chairs out and rearranged the tables, pushing them together to make larger ones where children would be made to sit together rather than all alone.
She made two large tables and placed six chairs around each of them in a horseshoe shape to face the front of the classroom. Twelve students was a lot fewer than the twenty-nine she was used to.
She stood back and looked at the room, letting out a frustrated sigh as she did. The walls were bland, the stereotypical white-painted brickwork seen in so many similar buildings. Clearly all of the schoolwork from the previous year had been disposed of or given back to the children at the end of the term. Now she was left with what might generously be described as a blank canvas. Sadly, the canvas was chipped, stained, and stark, highlighting an already cold and inhospitable feel.
She made a mental note to speak with Lucy about any possible redecorating budget. Even a standard whitewash would make it look less like it had been abandoned fifty years ago.
She could hear the sounds of children playing and decided it was time to head out to the playground to welcome her new intake. She pulled her coat tight around her, only now realising she hadn’t taken it off. She hoped the cold air in the building was simply due a lack of heating during the holidays. A glance at the old iron radiator in the corner had her wondering just how well the heating worked.
“Make the best of it,” she mumbled to herself. “Give it a year.”
3 RETURN TO THE SCHOOL GATES
The closer they got to the gates, the more the anxiety bubbled up inside Hannah and the more excited Rosie became. Looking at the building, Hannah couldn’t believe how literally nothing had changed since her own time there. The school still towered over her, the iron gates were still coated in peeling, dark green paint.
She gripped Rosie’s hand a little tighter, partly due to the memories starting to creep from the dark recesses of
her mind and partly because she didn’t want to leave Rosie for an entire school day.
“There’s Simone!” Rosie pointed into the playground and tugged on Hannah’s hand with excitement.
“Off you go.” Hannah let go. Though she would spend this first day apart missing her little girl, she was happy that Rosie was as excited about socialising with a real person as she often was about getting a new book.
Rosie hurried off. Hannah had to smother a smirk behind her hand. The rucksack on her back was laden with all the so-called essentials Rosie thought she might need. Sadly, the bulk of the bag meant that her top speed had been severely reduced. She waddled like a tortoise who had just learnt to stand up right.
Hannah stepped across the threshold of the gate. A shiver ran down her spine. She saw some parents she knew from the park and walked over to join them. It would have been preferable to leave, but she knew she should wait for the morning bell indicating the start of the school day to see Rosie safely inside. Even if her fight-or-flight responses were definitely screaming flight.
“Morning,” she greeted the others, shoving her hands into her pockets and looking at the children playing rather than the group she had joined.
A murmur of greetings followed.
“As I said, Peter is so nervous about starting school,” Nadine, one of the mums, said.
“So’s Simone,” Sue replied. “She’s excited, too, but she couldn’t sleep last night.”
“Same,” another mum chipped in. “I was awake all night wondering if there was anything I’d forgotten. Wondering if I’d ironed the school uniform and bought the right pens and pencils.”
“Same, I didn’t sleep a wink,” Nadine said. “Have any of you met this Miss Spencer?”
“No, I just know that she’s new,” Sue replied. “From Manchester, apparently.”
“What’s she doing down here?” Nadine asked. “Seems like a step backwards to me.”
“Seems very odd,” a father in the group agreed.
Hannah rolled her eyes. This was one of the things she hated about Fairlight: the gossip. Everyone was so starved for someone to chat about that the moment someone new appeared, they pounced.
Although, she had to admit that she was also curious about the newcomer. Whoever she was, she’d be looking after Rosie every weekday for the next year.
“Couldn’t find anything on Facebook,” Nadine said.
“I looked on LinkedIn,” Sue replied, smugly. “Couldn’t see much, though, just a photograph.”
Hannah dug her hands deeper into her coat pockets and started to clench and unclench her fists. These people were unbelievable. Time and access to the Internet had made them worse over the years. It didn’t help that Hannah knew she had often been the subject of similar chattering circles. She wondered how much dirt they had dug up on her and spread around Fairlight without her knowledge.
“In fact, there she is,” Sue said.
Hannah looked up, seeing Sue gesture with her chin towards the main entrance to the building. She turned and felt her eyes start to widen. Miss Spencer was gorgeous. A little older than she’d expected, possibly late thirties, shoulder-length, dark brown hair. She wore a long, black coat, and Hannah itched to know what was beneath. She could see knee-high boots which indicated a skirt.
If I had a teacher like that, I might have paid more attention, Hannah thought to herself. Although probably not to the schoolwork.
Miss Spencer walked into the playground and spoke to a group of children standing nearest the door. The children animatedly spoke with her.
“At least she’s younger than Hardaker,” Nadine said.
“It’s hard to find anyone older than Hardaker,” Sue replied.
Their voices faded into the background as Hannah watched Miss Spencer interacting with the children. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but the children were obviously having a lot of fun. Their laughter could be heard across the playground.
Hannah found herself getting lost in Miss Spencer’s smile.
“Hannah?”
She turned around. “Hm?”
“I asked if Rosie attended Reception,” Nadine said.
Hannah dampened down the deep breath she wanted to take. Nadine knew that Rosie hadn’t attended. What she wanted to ask was, why hadn’t she? Hannah wasn’t about to answer that question.
“No, she didn’t,” Hannah said, turning her attention back to the children playing.
“Oh, shame. I know Peter benefitted from seeing the school and getting to know some of the structure and routine. But I’m sure Rosie will fit in just fine,” Nadine said.
“I’m sure she will,” Hannah agreed.
She wasn’t about to explain her work situation and justify her decisions to Nadine. She’d learnt long ago that the best way to not be part of the gossip circle was to not feed them any new information.
A loud bell rang from the school’s clock tower.
Rosie turned around from where she was talking to Simone and waved happily at Hannah. She waved back, a part of her relieved that Rosie wasn’t going to come over and hug her. She had a suspicion that if she did, she’d wrap her arms around her daughter and take her back home. Everyone had always told her that children grew up fast, but she hadn’t expected it to be so true.
It felt like only a year ago that Rosie was a baby. Now here she was, five years old, and about to start her first day at school. Hannah’s gaze turned to Miss Spencer. She was assisting some of the other teachers in getting the children in from the playground. Hannah grinned. There were always some kids who would sprint around like Usain Bolt one last time before being confined to a desk for six hours. She couldn’t blame them.
Even so, she couldn’t take her eyes off Miss Spencer.
“Will we see you at the coffee morning on Wednesday?” Sue asked, rudely stopping in front of her line of vision.
“No, sorry, I can’t,” Hannah murmured. “Working.”
She wasn’t at all sorry. She couldn’t think of anything worse than spending a whole morning with these people. She could just imagine the gossiping and the lying that went on. She remembered when everyone turned on Nigel Garfield because he got a new car. The rumour was that he was on state benefits and didn’t work because no one saw him leave his house. When the new car turned up, there was a silent uproar. He was a benefits cheat, and everyone was talking about it. Behind Nigel’s back, of course.
Three months later, Hannah saw Nigel in the supermarket and asked him what he did for a living. Turned out he was an accountant who worked from home. Mystery solved.
But for three months he was, unknowingly, the subject on everyone’s lips.
Hannah knew all too well that her avoidance meant that she was probably a topic of conversation. She knew for certain that she had been in the past.
“Oh, well, let us know if you get some time off. We’d love to see you there,” Sue replied.
“Sure. See you later.” Hannah turned and walked away from the parents at a quick pace. She had no interest in walking back to town with anyone else. Every time someone spoke to her, she felt for sure that they were seeking out more fuel for the conversational fire. Things to report back to the others on.
Her dad told her she was paranoid, but he didn’t really know. He may have lived in Fairlight years ago, but his work kept him away for so long that he never really got to know the residents like she had. And now he was about as far away from Fairlight as he could get, living in Scotland. She often wondered if she should have followed him.
Often wondered why she hadn’t.
The walk to Chopz Hairdressing Salon flew by, especially because Hannah was moving at a brisk pace to ensure the other parents didn’t catch up.
She opened the door, the bell tinkling as she did.
Adrian poked his head out from the back room in case she was a client.
“Just me,” she greeted.
“How did it go?” He stepped into the salon and regarded her sadly.
“Heartbreaking,” she admitted. “But I have to accept that she is growing up.”
“Where does the time go?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I’d like some of it back.” She took off her coat and walked to the back of the room to hang it in the closet.
The phone rang. Adrian answered in his usual vibrant manner. She hoped it was one of her clients making an appointment. It was early on in the month, but her pay packet was already looking a little light.
It was to be expected at that time of year. Summer was dwindling, Christmas was miles away. The time between haircutting appointments started to increase, and, with it, Hannah’s salary decreased.
She’d been styling hair long enough to expect the drop in wages at this time of year, but she still found herself on edge. She dreamed of a time when she would be able to get through a month without relying on the money her father sent. She told him not to bother, he was a pensioner and needed to save his money. But every month an amount would arrive, accompanied by a text explaining that the money was for Rosie.
Of course, she was grateful for the funds. Most of the time she needed them, not that she’d ever admit that to him. She wished she didn’t need to rely on money from her father. It was another nail in the coffin of her self-confidence.
Adrian hung up the phone. “Mrs Philips wants to see you tomorrow. I think she wants that colour done again.” He raised his eyebrows and shook his head.
Hannah rolled her eyes. “How do you nicely tell a seventy-year-old to not dye their hair raven black? I think I’ve tried every subtle way I can think of.”
“It’s extra money,” Adrian pointed out.
“Which I’m grateful for, but it’s hardly a good advertising board to have walking around the village,” Hannah pointed out.
“True. Have another word with her, see if you can tame it down. Tell her that all the old biddies are going light lilac these days.”
“I’ll use those exact words.” Hannah winked.
She walked into the staff room and made herself a cup of tea. She was in desperate need of the cereal bar she had thrown in her bag that morning.