by Katy Lilley
Bryony dug Maisie in the ribs. ‘Ow, what was that for?’
‘I can sniff the cork.’
Maisie made an over the top show of rubbing where Bryony had hit her. ‘Bully. See, Theo, what you’ve got to come? Okay, fair enough. Lead me to it after I’ve ditched the shoes and been to the loo. Then I’ll tell you if I’m definitely going for the job.’
She left the room before anyone had the chance to say anything more and after the loo stop, headed for her bedroom to make a list of what she needed to do, and attend to the first task immediately. A swift text to her boss, with ‘got the job, will tell you more when I’m back’ got an immediate response of a thumbs up and a smiley face, and ‘I’ll take that as notice, see you at 3 on Sunday for a chat?’ As she and Mary Compton were friends as well as colleagues, she was happy to reply, ‘yes, perfect see you then’, to that. Then she rang Stanley. He didn’t pick up, but she gave him the news, ending with ‘and there’s a cottage as well.’ Half an hour later she got a, ‘So happy for you. Speak when you get back, hectic here.’ Maisie couldn’t work out how an account’s clerk for a dairy’s job was hectic but what did she know? It obviously involved exams that took him away from home to study.
The rest of the list would have to wait until she could address it the following day. Things like, what furniture was needed in Daps Cottage, whether to put her present home up for sale, rent it out, or use it for when the need for city time got too much. For now though, there was fizz waiting.
When she arrived downstairs, Dario was ensconced on the sofa bouncing Theo up and down, with a beer in one hand. He glanced at her and scowled.
‘What?’ she asked. ‘Lost a quid and found a penny? Turn the frown upside down, why don’t you.’
‘What’s all this about whether you’ll take it? You told them you would.’
‘And they said thank you, but until I get the formal offer, I’ve not confirmed anything. Nor have they.’
‘They will.’
‘Then that’s when I’ll really know.’
Dario sighed. ‘Women. No wonder I have a lot of murder and mayhem in my books.’
‘You will take it though?’ Bryony said to Maisie. ‘And Daps Cottage and then we can look out for a nice hot bod for you. Sorted.’
‘I think all the hot bods are taken, and I have one anyway, but thank you for the thought. Truly though, am I who is needed?’
‘What?’ It was Bryony’s turn to scowl. ‘Of course, you are. Do you really want to inflict Liz and her my way or no way, incomers not welcome attitude onto our kids for longer than we have to? I mean if you chicken out it could take ages to find a permanent head.’
‘They have Liz already,’ Dario said with a grin.
Bryony narrowed her eyes at her husband. ‘But not as the boss. You know, she who controls all. Give them a break.’
‘You sound like an old gangster film,’ Maisie said. ‘Anyway, I’m off to suss out the accommodation as well tomorrow so you’ll soon be out of your misery.’
‘And you’ll be almost resident.’
****
Daps Cottage was cute. And compact. They were the only words Maisie could think of to describe it politely. It was tiny. A lounge and kitchen with space for a small dining table downstairs, and a medium sized bedroom plus box room—big enough for a cot or bunks, Maisie was told by Bryony with a wink—and bathroom up. Its saving grace was the substantial garden and the view across it to the fields beyond and then, if you understood where to look, a glimpse of the sea.
Maisie had always known the property wasn’t very large. With a lot of cuddles and squeezing it would cope with two very friendly people. Her and Stanley? He’d sent a well done text, and a speak soon, but nothing else. So, Daps Cottage was…what?
She had no idea.
Maddie—Dario’s ex-wife and great friend of Bryony—had originally asked if it was feasible to expand her craft shop, where Bryony worked, into it. It became more urgent when they along with Lou, the wife of one of Dario’s friends and Lottie, Dario’s sister, had merged two shops to provide an upmarket new to you section. However, the planning permission wasn’t forthcoming, and Dario said he could always use it to write when Theo and the then born bump got together and created mayhem. As a writer, he was used to writing everywhere and anywhere and he claimed, able to block stuff out. However, he admitted he got tetchy near to deadline and for the sake of family harmony, a bolt hole could be useful. Meanwhile he was happy for Maisie to use it for as long as she wanted and if necessary, he’d decamp to a coffee shop across the water.
Maisie decided she was delighted to accept the offer. There could be no thoughts of buying anywhere until her London home sold, and even then, judging by the house prices in the area, she’d be hard pressed to live in either of the Bristows. So, Daps Cottage would be perfect. A five-minute walk to school—uphill, which meant a three-minute walk home downhill. Little Bristow wasn’t that big. Near the bus route, close by the pub and Mrs Cherry’s general store and post office, and of course not far from Bryony. What else did she need?
The library van called once a fortnight on a Thursday and stopped on the far side of the village green, the fish van visited every Friday, and Mrs Cherry was happy to take orders for the fish man, and if need be drop library books back and pick them up. Other people were glad to pick up prescriptions, take stuff to the dry cleaners in town, and offer each other lifts if the bus time wasn’t convenient. In general, good neighbours. Of course, there was always those who moaned groaned and grumbled and chose not to participate, but Maisie had been assured they were few and far between.
‘Well?’ Dario leaned on the windowsill in the lounge. ‘Will it do? Don’t worry about furniture. If you want to keep yours in London, we’ve plenty to share.’
‘It might be an idea for now,’ Maisie said slowly. ‘If I don’t get London sold PDQ, it would be a good base for a quick nip to town. Plus, a place always looks better furnished. Easier to decide how it’s not your taste but you’d do this or that. So, yes, I’m happy to live here, when I get my contract of course, and yes, I’ll have some furniture.’
‘Great. Then, Ms MacLean, here is your contract for you to sign. I went and picked it up so you can take it in with you this afternoon. Now let’s head home and you and Bry can talk about beds and wardrobes and I can rescue my heroine from the baddie and ensure she kills him painfully.’
‘Oh Dario, I’ve kept you from your writing.’ Maisie was full of remorse. ‘Why didn’t you say?’
‘I wanted her to simmer,’ Dario replied cheerfully. ‘Now she has, and I’ll crack on after lunch. Which I have been told is at 12.30 prompt so you can get to school by lousing out time. Home time, or the bell, as it was in my day.’
After a successful tour of the school, where her acceptance now in writing and her start date confirmed as the first day of the new school year, she met Ken Dent, as cheerful and helpful as Bryony had said, and the two classroom assistants, Debbie and Joe.
Liz had been off with a migraine. Genuine, she’d been told by Pam. She got them when stressed.
As Maisie understood how stressed Liz must be, she said no more than she hoped Liz would soon feel better. Privately she hoped she wouldn’t be too stressed once Maisie became her head. She’d seek Bryony’s usually spot on advice.
‘You want to know how to deal with Liz?’
Maisie nodded. ‘Well, not exactly how to deal with her, more is she likely to be openly antagonistic or more likely to do the undercover wasn’t me who said or did whatever, but actually stirring it big time.’
‘Hmm.’ Bryony wrinkled her nose. ‘I’d say open and loudly. Right, on to the next concern. What will Stanley say now you’ve got the job? What if he says he wishes you hadn’t or, he’s not coming with you? What then? How you going to sort all that out?’
Trust Bryony to voice all of Maisie’s worries, Maisie thought. ‘He’s been nothing but encouraging,’ she said lightly, ‘and he insisted that if I got the job I had to accept
it.’
‘But how’s it going to work if he’s in London or wherever and you’re here?’ Bryony persisted. ‘How long can you sustain that?’
‘Lots of people do,’ Maisie retorted. ‘We’ll decide how we go on when we get a chance. After all, I’ve only known a few hours, and hardly had a chance to sort things out in my mind, let alone chat with Stan. Let’s change the subject please.’
Bryony harrumphed. ‘Okay, have it your way. But if you…’
Maisie put her hand over her friend’s mouth. That was the trouble with besties, they knew they could say what they were worried about, what they were thinking, and you just had to suck it up. ‘Please, Bry, enough already. I am not speculating on something I’m not sure about. Now what’s for tea? I want an early start north tomorrow.’
****
At six in the morning, Maisie wished she hadn’t needed to head home so early. However, a note from Stanley late the previous evening, just as she got into bed, saying ‘hope to see you tomorrow,’ settled it. Plus, surely it was better to be on quieter roads and beat most of the traffic. All of which meant by mid-morning she was pulling into her garage.
It hardly seemed possible it was only three or four days she’d been away. So much had happened in such a short time. She went into the house in a thoughtful mood and looked around. It had been home for so long and now? Whether she held onto it or not, things would be different. She’d lived studied and worked in the city all her life. She’d had pets in the house who were buried in the garden. It was…had been…home.
With a sigh deep enough to ruffle the curtains, Maisie went into the kitchen, made a coffee, cut a slice of the cake she’d been given, and wandered into the garden to sit and enjoy it. Soon, she’d have a shower, change to go and see Mary Compton and formally hand in her notice.
There was one week of term left before the Easter holidays and then another term at her present school. It would fly past and after that…
It would be the start of a new era.
In spite of that, before that new era got started, she’d a class of five year olds to make sure were capable of moving up to the heady heights of year two pupils, and the usual summer term-itis that would afflict most of them to cope with. Maisie got out her list of classes and timetables and thought that here was something she’d have to get to grips with and sort herself. Not on such a large scale as her present school of nigh on 400 pupils, but large enough.
That was for the future. Now was time to chat to Mary, the head teacher, pick her brains, and wonder for the umpteenth time if she was doing the right thing. Deep down she accepted she was, but boy it was going to be a change. And if anyone couldn’t accept that she was the new head of Bristow Primary School it was their bad luck.
Suck it up buttercups.
She went out with a smile on her face.
Three hours later it was still there. Mary accepted her resignation with a heartfelt thanks. ‘Heaven knows I don’t want to lose you, but I have to lose someone and this way it’s for a great reason. You’ll make a brilliant head.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Maisie asked. ‘I’m still not sure to be honest. Oh, I love that area, most of the staff seem great, and I’ve got somewhere to live until I either sell my house or put it out for rent. But it’s a big step and of course there’s always one spanner in the works.’
‘Let me guess. Another teacher who thought the job should be theirs?
Maisie nodded. ‘Deputy head.’
Mary wagged her finger at Maisie. ‘You just remember and do not forget. If she was the right person for the job, she would have got it. She didn’t and that tells you all you need to know. I’ll not pretend it will be all plain sailing. I had it rough when I moved here. The last head went to be an inspector and the deputy had acted head for two terms and thought he was a shoe in. Well, he wasn’t and he was not best pleased. Nor were a couple of his cronies. They didn’t actively go against me but nor were they any help. I’ve never had so many parent visits in such a short time for so many petty reasons. Things that normally a teacher could and would sort with a few polite and well-chosen words came to me with irate, upset and obstreperous parents.’
‘Blimey, what did you do?’ Maisie was fascinated. She could only hope Pam or Liz or even the seemingly pleasant Ken Dent weren’t as obstructive.
‘Addressed the staff and said I thought we might end up in special measures as some teachers couldn’t cope with the day to day minutiae of school life and I was going to ask for help. That we were a team and if part of the team wasn’t pulling their weight or working as they should it was up to me to make sure things improved. As no one wanted special measures, things did improve, and we got outstanding at the next inspection. Mind you I had more than a few sleepless nights before the instigator, ringleader, call him what you will, left to go to another school, and things settled down. It’s been good until the dreaded lose staff notice. You getting the headship gives me a little more leeway. I think Doris and Rachael are thinking of job share and that with luck will sort stuff. Hopefully. So now come on and pick my brains. If I can help, I’m happy to.’
‘Great, then I’m sort of sorted. Just this week and next term to get through.’
Mary laughed. ‘The dreaded summer term. Roll on July. Enjoy the rest of the day. Only one week before two weeks of bliss.’
Chapter Four
Stanley was enthused, albeit unforthcoming about what role he would play in her new life. ‘Great opportunity, for you babe. I’m made up, what a clever girl you are,’ he enthused. ‘And somewhere to live as well, eh? You’re all sorted.’
‘Well, not quite all,’ Maisie said cautiously. ‘Lots of stuff to sort out.’
‘You’ll do it, I’ve great faith in your abilities.’ He toasted her with his glass of lager. ‘Better make some lists I reckon?’ It seemed he chose not to mention how it would affect him. Maisie of course had no intention of asking him. She would not be seen as a needy Nora.
‘Better celebrate in style.’ He stood up. ‘Let’s go to bed.’ He swept her into his arms and headed for the hallway.
Maisie gulped and tucked her legs in, so he didn’t bang them on the doorjamb or the newel post. It might be a romantic gesture, but it meant a lot of heavy breathing of the wrong kind, then cussing as Stanley navigated the bend in the stairs, and moaned he’d put his back out.
He dropped her on the bed and slumped beside her. ‘Have you put on weight?’
‘Nope.’ She was tempted to snap something along the lines of “are you just unfit?” but bit back the words. After all, the gesture had been sweet and romantic, and somewhat unusual. ‘It’s hot in here. Enough to make anyone tired.
It was a pity then that their lovemaking had, after that, felt lacking. Perfunctory even. Not that Stanley thought so. He was, he said, knackered in the best possible way. Maisie wondered if she was the only woman in the world who faked an orgasm so often. She could of course say she needed more time or to move his hand up down or around, but then he’d sulk, and really was it worth that?
‘Perfect,’ Stanley said. ‘Lovely evening eh?’ He rolled onto his side and sighed. ‘Twenty winks now.’
By the time he left, with the ‘got to be at work early’ excuse—the normal alternative to the ‘on a course’—she wondered what he was up to and decided now was not the time to ask.
Not yet.
For now, she’d go on as usual. School, tidying her desk and home. Stanley became extra attentive and brought flowers and a book she’d had her eye on with a ‘sorry been hectic, time to breath and be us now. Congrats on the job. Missed you, babe.’ He cooked—spaghetti bolognaise—and even helped put the crockery in the dishwasher afterwards. A first.
For the first time ever, though, Maisie thought he was only going through the motions. Their lovemaking was short and not so sweet. But he apologised and explained he’d had a touch of the flu when he’d been away. And that he had to go away again. To Runcorn. ‘Where if I do well on
the course I’ll be in line for promotion. More money and a better placed desk.’
‘And I’ll be in Devon,’ Maisie said. ‘Just as well we never found our dream house here eh?’ She held her breath. Would he comment about that, or what they might do in the future?
Stanley grunted, rolled over and took up more than half the bed as ever as he ignored her statement. ‘Night, babe.’
He was gone when she woke up. In fact, she thought, if there hadn’t been a damp towel on the bathroom floor, and a dirty cup, plate and knife in the sink, she would have wondered if she’d dreamt he’d actually been there. The sooner he got his exams over and done with the better life would be.
****
A week later, during her lunch break Maisie headed for the bank to get some cash to pay her lottery money. Even though she was moving, she intended to stay in the school syndicate and thought she’d just hand the next six months over and not have to remember to post it to the organiser each month.
Halfway across the park, on a, winding path bordered with box hedging—no straight lines there—Maisie slowed for a second to watch two squirrels chase each other round and round and up a tree. Their antics made her laugh and put a more positive spin on the day. After all she was outside, it wasn’t raining, and she had got enough money to last until payday and still buy her class an end of term treat.
There was no need to do a route march she had plenty of time. She should ‘smell the daisies’ as her mum used to say. Maisie took a good look around to see where the squirrels had ended up and stopped dead in her tracks.
Stanley, who was supposed to be on a course in Runcorn again—‘for my exams’ he had said for the umpteenth time—appeared to be very loved up with someone on a park bench. The way he and the unknown woman were playing tonsil tennis was almost at the level of needing police interference so as not to upset the kids on the jungle gym. The fact one of the kids had hollered ‘oy mister, get a room’, hadn’t seem to bother them one bit. Stanley and a. n. other ignored the child and appeared oblivious to their surroundings.