by Daniel Hurst
Nobody has to know except the two of us. Amy doesn’t have to get hurt this time because I will make sure of it.
The only question now is how do I see Petra again? She definitely can’t come here. That almost ended in disaster a second ago and I don’t want to tempt fate. I also don’t want to do anything with another woman in this house. Amy deserves better than that. I have to go to Petra. But where? A hotel room? That feels so seedy. I should know because that’s what I did with Tina. What about Petra’s place? That could work. I could call around, we could get this thing out of our systems, and then we can move on with our lives. The only problem is that I don’t know where she lives.
But Michael does.
I could get it from him. But the issue I have is that I don’t want to confront him about still seeing Petra because he will want to know how I found out. I can’t risk him thinking that we have been in any kind of contact because Amy might find out and it will send her paranoia into overdrive again.
But if I don’t speak to him about it then how else can I get her address?
The answer comes to me in two seconds.
He has her phone number.
I could get it off his phone and text her.
The nervous energy in my body is replaced by the overwhelming wave of excitement about what I am going to do in the future.
I am going to be with Petra.
And nobody is going to find out about it.
THE TENTH LESSON
The plaque was built into the new school wall to remember the victim of the fire. The teacher who had died in the inferno would never be forgotten here. His grieving relatives were present on that sunny day when the ribbon was cut and the school was officially opened again, although his wife was absent after her suicide shortly after the fire took her partner. Also present were prospective pupils, teachers, journalists and even the firefighters who had battled the blaze that had seen the original school burn to the ground. On a site that held so much tragedy, it was a relatively positive occasion. The sky was blue, the air was warm, and everybody present was optimistic about a bright new future for Sharpbell High.
But there was somebody watching from a distance that day who wasn’t feeling as hopeful for the future. It was the person who carried with them the guilt from the events on that fateful night when the fire had swept away the classrooms and the corridors and the poor man stuck inside. It was the person who was also feeling remorseful for helping frame the poor girl who had gone to prison for this fire, the same girl who had been killed by a fellow inmate while the building work on this new site was still underway.
It was Amy.
She hadn’t caused the fire, but she was far from innocent. She knew who had done it. She also knew that they had gotten away with it.
The tenth lesson is that everybody has secrets.
46
AMY
I can see the gold trim of the plaque from over here. I stare at the section of the school wall while I wait for Bella to come and get in my car so we can get out of here. Another school day is over, and it’s one day closer to the day when I never have to come back here again. I’ve cried enough tears and felt enough remorse over the years for the people who died because of the fire, both directly and indirectly. I’m worn out from thinking about it. I learnt a long time ago that I couldn’t change what happened because it’s far too late for that. Saying something now won’t bring back the teacher, his wife or the poor girl who died in prison. They are gone, and nothing can change that. The families have moved on, the school has moved on, and I have moved on. I was coping. I had put it behind me.
Then I got that photo on my phone.
It was a picture of the dead girl, the one I helped frame for the fire and the one who was strangled to death in her cell while serving the sentence that she should never have been given in the first place. The fact that I received a photo of her tells me that somebody knows what I have done and how involved I was in the whole shameful affair. I’ve given up wishfully thinking that the photo was some kind of a prank to mark the twenty-fifth anniversary of the fire. It isn’t a joke.
It’s deadly serious.
I did try ringing the number to try and find out who had sent it. But there was no answer. It’s hardly a surprise. They obviously want to keep their identity a secret because they can torment me more that way. But I’m wondering what is going to happen next. Since receiving the photo, I haven’t had anything else from this number. No more photos. No message. Just the constant wave of anxiety washing over me again and again and making me feel like I am starting to drown.
Everything seems to be falling apart. Michael is currently serving a suspension from school after being involved in two fights last week. One was during a lunchtime football game, which has been known to happen before and could be put down to kids being competitive and overexcited on the pitch. But the second one was much more troubling.
He had been fighting with Nev.
I have no idea what the two friends were arguing about, but they have never fought before. My son might not be an angel, but he has never thrown a punch at anybody, let alone his own best friend. But he still won’t tell me what caused it, nor will he confess the reason as to why he has been so moody lately. Nick suspects that it is because his exams are almost here, but I don’t think it is that. Michael has proven that he doesn’t really care what happens regarding his schoolwork, so I doubt he is suddenly worried about it now. But it still remains a mystery. At least his suspension ends in time for the exams to start.
As for Bella, she came home with a black eye the other day. The girl who has been bullying her pushed her into a door, and she has been suspended, but that isn’t much consolation for my daughter who didn’t deserve such a thing to happen to her. But she is bravely soldiering on and still going to her classes, which is at least one less thing to worry about.
That just leaves my husband. Nick has been behaving very strangely lately, and just like my son, I have no idea what is behind it. He’s mumbled some stuff about being behind on several deadlines with work, and he has tried to keep himself shut away in his study as much as he can, but I can tell there is something more on his mind. Worst of all, he and Michael have had some barnstorming arguments lately. I don’t know what’s got into them, but there have been several times when I have heard them going at it with each other. But every time I try and get to the bottom of it, neither of them are willing to give me an answer.
I feel like I am losing my grip on my own life as well as my family’s. I’ve spent the last week trying to figure out why this is all happening now. It’s only when I see the school kids stream out of the door beside the plaque that I have a sudden epiphany.
Everything started going wrong when I let Petra go.
The photo on my phone. Michael’s misbehaviour. Nick’s aloofness. It all began after I changed the tutor.
I feel my breath catching in my chest as I watch the kids pouring out of the school and rushing towards the waiting cars and buses. I feel it because I know it is true.
Petra is behind this. She displayed a cold streak to me that night as she left my home, hinting that she could have had my husband if she had wanted to. That showed me that I had never really known her. There is clearly a lot more to her than the smiling, polite teacher from Sweden. But how much more?
Did she come into our lives for a reason? Did she plan it all? Does she know what I have done?
I take out my phone and open the message with the photo attached.
Then I type out another reply to it, and I am confident that this one will get me a response.
I know it’s you, Petra. What do you want?
47
PETRA
I have what I want. He’s lying right next to me in my bed.
‘I better be going,’ he says, reaching for his t-shirt that was thrown onto the bedside table during our fit of passion.
‘Stay a little longer,’ I say, pulling him back towards me.
&nbs
p; I’m not surprised when he doesn’t resist. No man could.
We kiss again, and I feel the desire emanating from within him. I wish he could stay the night. But his wife wouldn’t like it.
‘I really have to get going,’ Nick says as he breaks off from the kiss and climbs out of bed before I can pull him back again. I watch him getting dressed and find myself amused that he took his clothes off a lot quicker than he is currently putting them back on.
‘When will I see you again?’ I ask, even though we have agreed this was only going to be a one-time thing.
‘Petra,’ Nick starts, but then he sees the grin on my face and realises that I’m joking.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t keep you from her anymore,’ I say, but I regret it when I see the wave of guilt flash across his face.
He finishes getting dressed in silence, and I wait for him to speak next.
‘What about the other thing we talked about?’ he asks when he has his clothes back on to go with the wedding ring that never came off.
‘I’ll sort it out,’ I reply.
‘Promise?’
‘Yes, I promise.’
He nods. Now he has got what he wanted and his clothes are back on, there isn’t really anything else keeping him here.
‘I guess I’ll be going then.’
I watch him walk to the door, imagining how he will behave when he gets back home to the woman he should have been with all along. I hope that when I get married, I will be able to tell if my husband is lying to me. But maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll be just as unfortunate as Amy.
I do feel sorry for her. I know I have a funny way of showing it considering that I have just slept with her husband, but I genuinely do. She doesn’t deserve this. And she doesn’t deserve what is coming. I’m not even sure Nick does either.
‘Wait,’ I say just before he can walk out of the bedroom and leave my flat forever.
Nick pauses in the doorway and looks back at me, his eyes moving from my face to my naked torso and the rest of my body concealed beneath the bedsheets.
‘Be careful,’ I say, even though I shouldn’t be saying anything at all.
‘What do you mean?’
I almost want to tell him. I want to give him a heads up about the chaos that is coming his way very soon. But I don’t. I’ll keep my word. I’ve gone off plan enough. I can’t make it any worse. Not that it could get much worse for Nick and his family when we are finished with them.
‘I just mean in general. You’re a nice guy. Be careful.’
Nick smiles, and I know he would love to dive back between the sheets with me. But he does what he is supposed to. He walks out the door and goes home to his wife.
Better late than never I suppose.
I roll over when I hear the front door click and pick up my mobile phone from where it is charging on the bedside table. That’s when I notice that I have one new message.
Look what I just got it says followed by a copy of another message.
I know it’s you, Petra. What do you want?
I guess Amy thinks that she has figured it out. But she is still way off. She thinks that I’m the bad guy here, but I’m not. Okay, I just slept with her husband, but that’s beside the point. There’s more to it than this. There’s more to it than me. It’s only a matter of time until she learns the truth along with everybody else in this poxy town unless she does what I say.
I type out a reply to the message.
Let me know what you want me to do next...
Then I put my phone back down on the table and stretch my arms above my head. I better think about getting in the shower and washing Nick’s scent off me. His son will be here soon for his next lesson, and it wouldn’t be good if he knew what I had been doing with his dad before he arrived. Michael is going to be frustrated enough without him knowing his dad has just done to me what he never will. That’s because I’m about to break the poor boy’s heart.
I’m going to tell him that tonight will be our last lesson together. He isn’t to come here anymore, and he isn’t to see me again. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed. He might even get mad. But he will leave. There is a chance that he refuses to accept it and tries to see me again in future, turning up at my flat and begging to be let inside. But that won’t be my problem.
I’ll be long gone by then.
48
MICHAEL
Everything is a mess right now. I’ve fallen out with Dad, I’ve fallen out with Nev, and I’m probably on the verge of falling out of school if I’m not careful. But there is one thing that is keeping me going. It’s Petra. I’m on my way to her flat right now, and I’ve decided that tonight is going to be the night when I tell her how I feel.
None of the other stuff matters as long as she likes me too. I don’t care about what my family will think or what my friends will think, and I definitely don’t care about getting to finish school and earning my grades. None of that will matter if we are together.
Everything is meaningless compared to love.
I get off the bus and step out onto the wet concrete, keeping my head down as I walk through the driving wind and rain on what is another typically rubbish day of weather in England. I’m annoyed because I spent time doing my hair before I left the house, but it was a wasted effort. I’m probably going to look like a drowned rat when I get to Petra’s flat. Hardly the best start for what I am planning this evening. But what can I do? I don’t have a car, and I can hardly ask Mum and Dad to give me a lift here. They don’t even know I’ve left the house. As far as they are concerned, I’m revising in my bedroom, not halfway across town on my way to see my Swedish tutor.
I can’t wait to see Petra. Putting to one side how I feel about her, she is actually a better teacher than the replacement tutor that my parents have given me. Sue is so boring. She has no sense of humour and makes no attempt to make the lessons enjoyable. I’m learning even less with her than I am with Petra, which is saying something. All she does is read from the book, word for word. It’s hardly teaching.
It’s now only a couple of weeks until my exams, and I don’t have long left to revise, assuming I haven’t been expelled before then. The fight with Nev was regrettable, but we haven’t spoken to each other since. He was talking about Petra in a derogatory way, and I defended her, although I could perhaps have done it in a better way than by punching him in the stomach. I just couldn’t stand to hear him talking about her like that. She isn’t just some hot girl that I fancy, she is a clever, hardworking and talented woman and she doesn’t deserve to be spoken about by a bunch of childish schoolkids on the playground. But because it was my second fight in quick succession, it meant I had ended up getting a suspension, which means I haven’t been in school this week. I’m due back just before my exams start which hardly seems worth it, but I think that is only because Mum begged the headmaster to let me return in time. It’s all been very stressful, and it has made my home life even worse, which was the catalyst for my troublemaking at school in the first place.
I have been arguing with Dad ever since the day I saw Petra leaving our house. I confronted him about it in his study, telling him what I saw and demanding to know what she was doing at our house, but he refused to tell me the truth about why she was there. He had just kept saying it was because the tutor had left a textbook behind after one of my lessons, but I know that is rubbish because the only textbook we used has been at Petra’s flat ever since I started going there. She must have been there for something else, but Dad refuses to tell me what. I threatened to tell Mum about it but then he threatened to tell her that I was secretly seeing Petra for private lessons, which came as a shock because that means she betrayed our agreement.
I can’t believe she told my dad that she was still teaching me. I’m not sure why she would have done that. But I haven’t asked her. I have never mentioned the fact that I saw her leaving my house that day. I’m telling myself it is because I’m an adult and only a child would go snooping in other people�
�s business. But really, it’s because I’m worried about what the truth might be.
I’m worried that something has happened between Petra and my dad.
I have carried that jealousy with me for the last few days, and it is the thing that has fuelled so many of my arguments with him even though he doesn’t know it. But I can’t say anything to Petra. I don’t want her to see me as some jealous kid who doesn’t trust her. Maybe she does like my dad. So what? He wouldn’t do anything anyway because he’s married to Mum. But if she likes him, then it’s because he is an adult. So that’s what I need to be too.
In the end, Dad and I made a deal. I wouldn’t tell Mum that Petra was at the house that day and he wouldn’t tell her that I had secretly been going to the tutor’s flat. So far, I have stuck to my word, and I am assuming he has stuck to his because Mum hasn’t stormed into my bedroom yet and had a go at me about it. But things between Dad and I are still frosty.
I caught him looking at my phone the other day when I had accidentally left it in the kitchen. He told me he was checking it to make sure that my texts with Petra weren’t inappropriate and straying beyond the teacher-student line, which they don’t because Petra barely texts me back. But he should never have been going through my personal property, so we had another argument. Mum must wonder what is going on.
Hopefully, all will become clear soon.
It will become clear if Petra reciprocates the affection that I am going to show her tonight. I am going to tell her that I love her, and I just hope she feels the same. If so, then Mum and Dad are going to find out about it because I don’t want it to be a secret relationship. Petra and I are grown-ups. We could get our own place. Maybe we could move to Sweden, and she could show me where she grew up. Maybe I can finally get out of this town and away from Mum, Dad and childish Nev. But before any of that, I have to let Petra know how I feel.