‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ quipped Claire, as they kissed goodbye, and Nicky stopped herself from saying, ‘What, like leave it too late to have children?’
She stood at the coach door as it sighed and slid open. The smell of coach hit her in the back of her throat.
‘Morning!’ said the coach driver as he stepped down. ‘Just you, is it?’
‘Looks like it,’ said Nicky.
He took her bag and placed it in the boot, then ambled back to stand next to her.
‘I hate coaches,’ Nicky said quietly. ‘I always forget till I have to get in them.’
Two people carriers turned into the car park, packed with at least five children each.
‘I hate kids,’ sighed the coach driver. ‘I never bloody forget that.’
Nicky grinned. She took out her copy of the list ready to tick off names. She smiled at the two mums as they approached.
‘Will they serve cheese there?’ greeted one before she’d reached her.
‘I don’t know,’ Nicky said. ‘Why?’
‘Well, he hates it. Won’t eat it.’
‘Is it an allergy?’
‘Might as well be, he hates it that much.’
‘Did you fill that in on the form? Because if you did, it’ll be fine.’
‘What form?’
‘The consent form you sent back. There was a section on allergies.’
‘Well, it’s not an allergy.’
‘No. But he won’t eat it.’
‘Won’t go near it. Won’t be in the same room as it. Mr Pattison knows.’
‘Ah well, that’s all right.’
‘Is Mr Pattison coming?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where is he, then?’
Nicky smiled. ‘I don’t know. Shall we phone him?’
‘Go on, then.’
Nicky dialled his mobile. She was put on to voicemail.
‘Hello, Mr Pattison, it’s Miss Hobbs. I have –’ she asked the mother’s name – ‘Mrs Jennings here who just wants to check that you are cognisant of the fact that Jamie will not, at any point on the holiday, be in the same room as cheese.’
She rang off.
By now the coach was surrounded by cars, like a mother pig with her suckling piglets. Parents milled round the car park trying to ignore their nerves while children raced round, slowly getting on them. Nicky placed her handbag on the very front window-seat of the coach, on the left, and then returned to the car park, where she roamed around chatting to parents and ticking names off lists. She spotted Martha-Plus-One approach. She checked that there was only one piece of luggage, but still had her doubts that the boyfriend wouldn’t try stowing away in the boot.
When Miss James was dropped off by a male ‘family friend’, Nicky stared. The headmistress wore pink tracksuit bottoms and matching jacket over a spotless white T-shirt. Nicky stopped herself from greeting her boss with a kiss and made do instead with a hearty hello. As the family friend drove away, they stood side by side, observing the gathering.
‘Nice weather for it,’ said Miss James after a while. Nicky asked her if she wanted to meet the driver and then watched her as she obligingly wandered up to the coach door, her clean white sneakers crunching on the gravel, and offered him her hand. It was as if she’d already retired, and in doing so had shed a decade in age. Which begged the question that, if Nicky were to take her place, would she look a decade older?
She looked down at her watch. Still half an hour to go before take-off. Where the hell was Rob? Just as she thought this, his car turned into the entrance. He roared right up to the coach and leapt out of his car.
‘Morning, sunshine,’ he greeted her, his usual private wink at the ready.
‘Are you going to leave your car here all week?’ asked Nicky.
‘Yep,’ he muttered. ‘With any luck it’ll get stolen.’
‘Why are you late?’
‘Bloody overslept, didn’t I?’ he muttered.
‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘We weren’t going to leave without you. I’d have got the coach to pick you up from your home if I’d had to.’
He allowed her a small smile. ‘I’m sure you would have,’ he said. He indicated Miss James with his head. ‘Did she say anything?’
‘Yes,’ whispered Nicky loudly. ‘She said, “I’ll show that Pattison to be late on my shift.”’ She shrugged and opened her eyes in innocent wonder. ‘I wonder what she meant by that?’
‘Ha ha,’ he said, his eyes still on Miss James and he went to greet her. Nicky watched him apologise repeatedly to her. Her observation was interrupted by a cheery hello. She steeled herself and then turned to Amanda. Her lower jaw slowly gaped open, like a Thunderbird puppet’s lower jaw.
‘All aboard!’ sang out Amanda.
She was wearing a light summer dress, high-heeled wedge espadrilles, big floppy hat and sharp shades. She looked ready for a cruise. Or rather, she looked gorgeous, and ready for a luxury cruise. Glossy lipstick brought out the pink, healthy glow in her cheeks, exemplary use of expensive foundation gave her the silken complexion of a Hollywood starlet, and when she lifted her shades, Nicky found herself looking into immaculately eye-lined, enhancingly eye-shadowed, meticulously mascaraed eyes. Every single eyelash was standing to attention. She stared for a while, wondering what life must be like for a woman like Amanda. What did she do when everyone else was writing their New Year’s Resolutions? Exfoliate?
‘Wow, Amanda!’ she managed. ‘Dressed to kill, eh!’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that!’ grinned Amanda. ‘Dressed for a summer holiday, more like!’ She took her time to look Nicky up and down. ‘Are you coming with us?’ she asked innocently. While Amanda then made a great display of greeting Rob, Nicky found herself unable to function. Her brain was clogging up with all the different answers she should have given.
She caught sight of Ned, at the other side of the car park. Even at that distance she could make out the stoop of his shoulders. He walked slowly from the passenger seat to the boot of the car, took out a small case, and walked slowly to the driver’s seat, where his wife sat. He bent down while she opened the window, kissed her, turned and approached the gathering. When he saw Nicky, he gave a little nod before studying the ground in front of her feet. She put her hand on his arm.
‘Ned.’ He stopped. ‘Good luck with the job interview.’
He looked at her. ‘Thanks,’ he said and stepped up on to the coach. He half turned towards her. ‘You too.’
There was a sudden glut of arrivals twenty minutes before the coach was due to leave and both pupils and teachers started boarding. Nicky looked down her list. Daisy, Oscar, Mark Samuels still to come. She pressed her biro against Mark’s name until it made a dent in the paper. She added a dent on one or two random names.
She looked up and grinned at the surprising sight of Ally and Pete approaching.
‘We thought we’d come and see you off,’ said Ally.
‘And laugh,’ added Pete.
‘Oh, thanks, guys!’ Nicky grinned.
Janet, Miss James’s trusty PA, who had less choice about being on this trip than the two Deputies did, loomed towards them. She’d had to get a temp in to cover her while she was away, which everyone knew meant she’d be working overtime or after term time to catch up. But everyone also knew that Miss James couldn’t possibly do without her, even on a school trip.
‘Hello!’ said Nicky.
‘Oh, piss off,’ muttered Janet, low enough for none of the kids to hear, and got on the coach.
Nicky looked at Ally and Pete.
‘You lucky, lucky bastards,’ she whispered.
‘Luck’s got nothing to do with it,’ laughed Pete. ‘It’s sheer lack of ambition.’
Then they followed Janet into the coach to wish everyone a hearty bon voyage.
Lilith’s car turned into the car park and drove right up to the coach, parking next to Rob’s. As soon as she parked, all the doors flew open and Daisy, Oscar, Mark
and Lilith leapt out. Mark ran to the boot and started unpacking luggage straight into the coach’s boot while Lilith hugged Daisy, and Oscar ran to Nicky. She ticked his name off the list and he climbed inside the coach without a look back. After she’d marked Daisy in, and waved hello to Lilith, she turned her attention to Mark.
‘Hi.’ He grinned down at her.
She held her pen to paper. ‘Name?’ she asked, with an attempt at a professional smile that was more like an arch grin.
He laughed. ‘Samuels, Miss.’
She pretended to look for his name. ‘You’re late, Samuels.’
‘How’s it going?’ he asked quietly.
She put the pen to her lips as if thinking. ‘Oh, you know,’ she sighed with a little shrug, ‘purgatory.’
He smiled and she watched his lips part as he prepared to speak. Then she watched him jump almost two feet in the air as Rob bellowed from the coach, ‘Get a move on, Samuels! We’re all waiting for you!’
Ally and Pete jumped out of the coach and grinned goodbye to them both. Nicky followed Mark on to the coach and everyone cheered. When Rob cried out, ‘Oscar! Have a word with your dad!’ there was a cacophony of laughter.
Miss James had moved Nicky’s bag from the left seat to the right seat across the aisle and placed herself in the optimum front-window seat that Nicky had chosen. Nicky eased herself into the aisle seat behind the driver. Miss James glanced a smile at her across the aisle before looking back out of the window and Nicky reminded herself that technically there were ten more days before Miss James retired.
Rob stopped chatting to the driver and stood, feet wide apart, at the front of the coach facing everyone. He welcomed them all and began a roll-call. Nicky watched him perform some jokes and funny voices, wondering if he’d offered to do this for Miss James or had been asked to by her. She stole a glance at Miss James, who was watching Rob, an enigmatic smile on her lips. Nicky tried to look at him from outside herself, as if she was Miss James. Tall, slim, olive-skinned, dark-haired, handsome (if you like your men with big features) and unarguably good with kids. A future headmaster? A future father? A future sperm donor, maybe?
When he finished, he looked down at her as if she was the only person in the coach. She blinked the look away. He squeezed in front of her, sitting down by her side in the window seat, as the coach set off. She looked out across him to the car park below. Martha’s boyfriend stood motionless. Ned’s neat little wife had got out of her car and was watching, her arms crossed against her tiny frame. Ally and Pete were playing tag. Lilith got smaller and smaller, her smile fading with each wave.
After they’d finished tag, Ally and Pete watched the coach disappear and then wandered slowly across the playground.
‘What shall we do now?’ asked Pete.
‘Brunch?’ said Ally.
‘Thought you’d never ask.’
They played tag again to his car.
In the coach, the children began a rowdy rendition of ‘A Hundred Green Bottles’ and Miss James suddenly sat up and moved across to the seat next to her, so as to be nearer to Nicky and Rob. Nicky thought she might be about to ask one of them to complain about the noise, but instead she smiled across the aisle at them.
‘I forgot to tell you both,’ she started and then stopped dramatically. Rob leant towards her, across Nicky, his hand on the furry headrest behind her head. He was so close she could smell the cool freshness of his underarm deodorant and the citrus tang of his aftershave. She turned her head to Miss James.
‘The governors were very impressed with both of you,’ mouthed Miss James. ‘And they’ve asked me to give my verdict after I return from this trip.’
She looked from one to the other. Nicky could feel Rob nod furiously next to her face. If he’d been any closer she’d have got stubble rash. She blinked in amazement at Miss James. Had the woman finally lost the plot? This was totally inappropriate, let alone tantamount to suggesting they just shoot it out in a duel when they got to Bournemouth. Why was Miss James so intent on them being rivals? However, she was delighted she was still in with a chance.
‘And, of course,’ she smiled at them both in turn, ‘you both know how I feel about you.’
‘What about Ned?’ whispered Rob, his hand, hidden from Miss James, touching Nicky’s shoulder, as if they were conspirators, not rivals.
Miss James shook her head sadly, closing her eyes. Then she opened them, started nodding and said that he may well become one of the next Deputies. Or even the Deputy. She’d be telling him on the journey. Best for him to know as soon as possible. This was left hanging in the air. Rob’s hand didn’t move from Nicky’s shoulder.
‘What about external applicants?’ he asked.
‘All highly impressive,’ admitted Miss James. She let that linger, before concluding, ‘But not quite impressive enough.’
The coach took a sharp right corner and Rob leant in towards Nicky. She was forced to gently move him away and was rewarded with a sly glance. Miss James sat back into her seat and immediately fell fast asleep. Her head lolled against the window until it finally lodged there. After a good ten minutes, Rob moved back into the furthest corner of his seat, squashed up against the window and then motioned for Nicky to join him there. She sidled nearer.
‘Howdee, sexy thing,’ he whispered. ‘Future Yummy Mummy. Foxy ladee –’
She raised an eyebrow.
‘Well,’ he sighed. ‘It’s better than playing the game she wants us to play.’
He had a point. It was beginning to feel like they were pawns in some sad little chess game going on in Miss James’s brain. Nicky glanced back at Miss James to see if she was listening. She was snoring gently. She turned back to Rob and almost knocked noses with him. He had moved his head towards her. He whispered into her ear, close enough for her to feel his breath down her neck.
‘She wants us to compete with each other,’ he informed her.
Nicky edged her head back and whispered just as deliberately back in his ear, ‘We are competing with each other.’
He shrugged. ‘Not if we decide to be on the same side,’ he whispered even closer, his mouth now touching her hair.
She shivered. Then nodded fractionally.
‘You and me. Finally,’ he whispered, leaning towards her as he spoke. ‘Instead of you against me.’
Nicky moved her head away slightly.
‘I’ll let you into a secret,’ he whispered.
Her eyes swivelled to him.
‘I’ve been applying for other jobs at the same time.’
She nodded once.
‘No bites . . . as yet.’
Another nod.
There was a long pause while Miss James snorted and resettled. Nicky started forming a polite but firm sentence in her head about having decided, after lengthy consideration, etc., etc., etc., that she’d rather have babies with someone she loved and who loved her. All in all, probably best for the baby, blah, blah, blah.
‘You know what I think?’ asked Rob before she’d got further than the third blah.
‘Um,’ she said slowly, ‘Man U will win?’
‘No. I’m going to be really honest,’ he prefaced. ‘You may not like it.’
She turned to face him. ‘I’ve got BO?’ she whispered.
He ignored her. ‘Believe it or not,’ he whispered slowly and clearly, ‘this is all . . . much harder . . . for me . . . than you,’ he said.
She blinked. ‘What is?’ she asked. ‘Sitting in a coach?’
‘I’ve never really admitted this before,’ he said, looking down, ‘but you’re not the only one with a clock ticking, you know.’
She frowned, envisaging him as Captain Hook in Peter Pan, with a haunting tick-tock echoing inside his abdomen.
‘What are you talking about, Rob?’ she asked squarely.
He now moved his head back towards the window and spoke so quietly she had to inch her neck forward like a tortoise not to miss anything.
‘If I don’t
get a headship before I’m thirty-five,’ he whispered ever so slowly, ‘I’ll never get one. I’ll have left it too late. Like you and babies. Except, of course, you could adopt.’
She balked. ‘Women have babies in their mid-forties,’ she told him, forgetting to whisper. ‘Men become headmasters into their bloody sixties.’
‘SSSSSSHHHHHH!’ Rob shrank in his seat. Nicky shrank with him. ‘Keep your voice down,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t want to wake her.’
Nicky repeated herself in a whisper.
‘What?’ he replied. ‘And have a five-year-old when you’re fifty? No thanks.’
Nicky looked ahead. ‘Rob. It’s awfully sweet of you to worry about me and my non-existent babies, but you really don’t have to. You just worry about your –’
He gripped her hand in his and spoke with a new urgency. ‘Nicky, don’t you get it? I care about you. I don’t want you crying every time you get a promotion.’
‘I cried once.’
‘But facts are facts,’ he admitted. ‘Unfair, anachronistic and sexist though it may be, if you become Head, you won’t be able to have children for years and –’
‘WHY?’ she exclaimed.
‘SSSSHHHH!’ He laughed and she found herself giggling with him. They shrank in their seats. Then she repeated her question in a whisper and he looked at her as if she’d just asked him what two plus two equalled.
‘Because you’ll be in an incredibly pressurised new job,’ he explained. ‘Try telling the governors you want six months’ maternity leave after they’ve just given you the headship.’ He laughed. ‘You’d get two weeks off if you were lucky.’
Nicky was silent.
‘On the other hand,’ he continued, ‘because we live in an unfair world, if I got the job, it wouldn’t make any difference at all. Except it would speed things up for you – for us.’
‘Hmm.’
‘Let’s just say, for argument’s sake,’ he began, curling his body in towards her, ‘that you and I were an item – as if we’d taken things one step further on Bonfire Night, or never even broken up – and say we were planning to start a family now, we could start immediately. We could start right now!’ He laughed again and whispered in her ear, ‘We could go up to the back of the coach now. That would put a stop to those fucking green bottles!’ They were both smiling now. ‘You’d get your maternity leave and could even go part-time if you wanted – or not, if you didn’t want – and I could bring home enough bacon for all of us.’
The Learning Curve Page 38