by Carol Thomas
14
The forty-minute ferry ride to the Isle of Wight was choppy to say the least. Ninety children bustled around the café as they were allowed to leave the coach, stretch their legs and visit the toilet. The teachers seized the moment for a hit of caffeine and kept watch for children going green as the boat rolled from side to side. Abby already missed Jessica and Grace but as she watched Portsmouth disappear from view she was pleased to be heading off on an adventure – a fabulous distraction from everything at home. Encouraged by the bubbling children she felt an air of anticipation growing inside her, maybe even a touch of excitement! As the dramatic Jurassic coastline grew in the Solent-splashed window they returned to their coaches and waited expectantly for the final part of the journey to begin.
Twenty minutes on and they were winding their way along a sparse country road, enthusiasm waning as the coach swayed from side to side; even the cheekiest children in the back seat had given up pulling faces at the teachers in the coach behind. “Are we nearly there yet?” droned with increasing frequency from the travel-weary children. Abby watched carefully, wondering which of her three known motion sickness sufferers might erupt first. Ironically, as she attempted to calculate how many hours it had been since their foreboding parents had dosed them up and waved goodbye she couldn’t help but notice Jake Price, a child not on her ones-to-watch list, turn a pasty shade of grey. Realising this was not a good sign she flew from her seat, sick bucket in hand, and reached him just as the entire contents of his stomach left his mouth in one huge heave.
Relieved to find most of it had landed in the bottom of the bucket, Abby fought back the impulse to retch building in her throat and attempted to ignore the warm, moist seepage she could feel across the top of her trainers. Recognising the imminent danger of others following suit – Abby included – Patty flew like a woman on a mission into salvage operation mode. The ever-prepared teaching assistant instantly set to with paper towels and disinfectant before passing out her entire – and as Abby couldn’t help but notice, somewhat considerable – supply of chewy mints in an attempt to appease everybody’s senses. If she weren’t still holding the sick bucket Abby would almost certainly have given her a hug!
When they finally arrived at the activity centre and left the coach everybody breathed a refreshing sigh of relief before being pounced on by an extremely enthusiastic instructor who magnanimously ignored the stench they were omitting and keenly introduced himself as Justin – their leader and number one port of call for the duration of their stay. The children were instantly in awe of him and hung on his every word as he rallied them into cheers for each of the activities on their itinerary. A list of events that made Abby fear that her perfectly manicured nails were doomed and instilled her with more than a touch of trepidation, despite her best intentions to retain a spirit of adventure. Following Justin’s lead they all collected their luggage and walked towards a large, slightly shabby-looking building.
“Not the usual one then,” Patty lisped, holding a chewy mint to the side of her mouth and strutting up next to Abby.
“Sorry?”
“This building – we’re normally on the other side, the newer bit,” Patty added, gesturing towards the opposite direction to where they were walking.
Typical! Abby sighed as they entered the maroon double doors leading to the place they would call home for the next three days.
The room Abby was designated was down a long corridor, apart from the other teachers but opposite a room of giggly year six girls. It was small and a bit scruffy. Abby sat on the slightly damp, too-soft bed and looked around. It wasn’t great but it was a bit of space she could briefly call her own. A few months back she would have hated the thought of the solitude but now she was learning to control the equilibrium of her mind more, albeit with varying degrees of success, and felt she could cope.
As Abby considered unpacking her bag and the likelihood of spiders crawling amongst her things if she did, there was a knock at her door. She opened it to be met by Bradley.
“Hi, I’ve been sent this way as male lookout to protect you ladies. I am stationed to the right of the stairs should you need me.” He gestured through the double doors to the stairwell and the boys’ corridor beyond as he spoke.
“Thanks Brad,” Abby smiled, “but I think us ladies,” she motioned down the girls’ corridor, “will be just fine.”
“Well, I’m just saying, because you never know…” he mused, reaching up to the corners of the doorframe. The shift in stance accentuated his strong physique and his t-shirt lifted just enough as he stretched to reveal a hint of his firm stomach.
Abby blushed as she realised she was overly staring at the fine hairline of his happy trail. Oh lord! She felt a strange tingle as she blinked, attempting to shake off the image. Gathering her senses, she put her hands on her hips. “Now I am sure you have unpacking, or organising or something to do,” she stated in her best I-am-not-fazed-by-you voice.
Bradley grinned an infectious, cheeky grin and lowered his voice. “You know, if you keep refusing my offers, Mrs Turner, I’m going to start taking offence!” he teased.
“Oh, is that so?” Abby giggled.
Bradley Hunter was one of those people who commanded attention through their cheeky front and charm, and generally got it. He had the male primary school teacher X factor. He was the one who had the children right where he wanted them, behaving, ready to listen and eager to please. In fact most of the staff, the Head included, responded to him similarly. He did a good job, he was clearly passionate and a good teacher. Abby had always slightly envied his energy and enthusiasm.
Over Brad’s shoulder Abby could see mayhem erupting in the room opposite as eight year six girls attempted to choose beds, unpack and put duvet covers on quilts, a task many of them had never done before. They had been placed together because they were friends but the way things were going Abby knew that wasn’t going to be the case for long. She pointed over Bradley’s shoulder. “I best sort them.”
“Ouch! Good luck with that!” He laughed and went to walk away. “Just kidding,” he added, stepping back into view. “I’ll help.” Dropping his bag outside Abby’s door he joined her as she ventured into the pandemonium of the girls’ room.
Several demonstrations, one child stranded in a duvet cover, a disaster averted when a lost teddy was found and the job was eventually done. With fifteen minutes left until their team briefing and activities started, Bradley returned to rally the boys and they all set about putting on trainers and grabbing waterproofs ready to take on the great outdoors. Before leaving her room, wishing she looked more Lara Croft than Ray Mears in her shorts, Abby checked her phone; there was a voicemail from Simon. Worried that something might be wrong, she pressed play. When she heard Jessica’s chirpy voice she stopped panicking and grinned.
“Hi Mummy, I miss you but Daddy is being funny. He is taking us to the park later and doing pizza for tea. I love you. Hope they are being good for you! Bye. Oh, and Grace says hello.” At which point Grace could be heard chipping in with, “Hello Mummy!” in the background. Smiling at her phone, Abby also noticed a text from Simon:
Hey wife, I bet you look great in khaki, feel free to send a pic – I always knew you had a thing for the crocodile hunter! Be careful and have fun! xx
Considering the nature of their last proper conversation the playful tone of the message took Abby by surprise; at first she was unsure about it, feeling that she should be cross when really she just felt amused. It was refreshing. She was tired of so much tension between them. As horrible as her talk with Simon had been, knowing more of the details somehow made her feel more able to deal with it (perhaps her Scott traits weren’t going to let her down after all… empower yourself with the facts, assess and overcome!) and she didn’t want to be bogged down with the complications of their relationship while she was away. That was what she was escaping, after all. She answered Jessica and Grace with a text – she didn’t want to speak to Simon if sh
e called – and then pondered answering Simon’s message. Biting her lip, unsure whether she should actually acknowledge it at all, she typed a quick response and pressed send before she could change her mind.
Crikey!!! You should be so lucky; all evidence of me in khaki is staying in the IOW! And don’t worry, I will look out for danger, danger, danger!
Rather pleased with her homage to the late Steve Irwin, she left the room.
The team briefing turned out to be more chanting with Justin and being introduced to six equally keen instructors in their late teens to early twenties – a kind of crossbreed between sporty and hippy types – who stood on a wall and called out the names of their activities. The children, already in groups chaperoned by teachers and teaching assistants, fell into line depending on their activity timetable. Up first for Abby and her group was the zip wire, an activity she felt confident she could do with all the enthusiasm of Julie Walters in Educating Rita – minus the pink pyjamas. After that it was the welcome campfire, hot chocolate and toasting marshmallows. That she knew she could do!
15
With the first activities complete at the end of what had been a long day, the children finally settled down around ten o’clock.
“You’d think they’d be tired after all that.” Melissa sighed as she launched herself into an armchair in the makeshift staffroom.
“The first night is always the worst,” Bradley added. “By tomorrow they’ll be knackered.”
Abby felt strangely exhilarated. The fresh air had been refreshing and the campfire had reminded her of happy days in the girl guides with Kennedy. She would have loved to have joined in more with all the singing but her voice was still hoarse from screaming her way across the zip wire, much to the amusement of the year six children who had managed the task with a lot more decorum than their flailing, screaming teacher.
“In the absence of anything stronger, anyone for more hot chocolate?” Abby asked.
They all decided to indulge; Melissa offered to help but Bradley stood, offering to go, before she left her chair. As they bustled around the kitchen rinsing cups and sorting various requests for a little chocolate, a large spoon of chocolate, extra milk, sugar and so forth Abby became very aware of being alone with Brad. The realisation made her feel suddenly hot and more than a bit flustered; feeling all fingers and thumbs she had to force herself to concentrate. She couldn’t believe that simply being in such close proximity to him was making her feel so hot and clumsy. Inwardly she reprimanded herself; she had worked with this man for a few years and he hadn’t affected her this way before, so why was he making her feel like a fumbling teenager now? Thoughts of brushing up against him, in the style of the movies, naughtily slipped into her mind. Oh lord, Abigail Turner, you ARE going crazy! Your imagination is running riot due to the fact it has been… ummm, too long! Heat rose in her cheeks.
Eager that Brad didn’t see her crimson blush she asked him to fetch the milk – ensuring he had to move away from her to go to the fridge. That’s better, she thought, until she turned and caught a glimpse of the smooth base of his back and the dimples that sat just above the line of his shorts as he bent forward. Abby dropped the mug she was holding and chocolate powder puffed up into the air and snowed back down onto the side and floor. Clearing that up at least made her refocus on the task, albeit that despite her protestations Brad insisted on helping and their hands touched a little too often, sending tingles through her body as she felt his skin on hers.
As the head teacher returned from corridor patrol they all drank their hot chocolate and at Patty’s suggestion experimented with melting Quality Street into it while sharing their funniest stories of the day. Abby’s sick disaster and screaming like a banshee on the zip wire featured alongside Justin being run over by Jake Price in his go-kart and Melissa accidentally setting fire to her marshmallow – something she wouldn’t be living down in a hurry. With breakfast scheduled for eight am, but no guarantee that the children wouldn’t be up hours before that, one by one they headed off to bed. Only Patty, Abby and Bradley remained.
Abby drank the last of her hot chocolate and caught Brad’s eyes smiling at her from above his mug as he sipped the last of his. Abby held his gaze for a moment, feeling what she felt must be the heat from her hot chocolate spreading within her. Sitting between them, Patty glanced from one to the other.
“Doing it then?” she asked excitedly.
Abby looked aghast, while poor Brad positively choked on the drink he had barely swallowed.
“What?” they both asked, cheeks ablaze.
“Abseiling, tomorrow? It’s a challenge but I love it!” She grinned.
“Oh, that!” they chorused, both stifling embarrassed giggles as they noticed she was holding the next day’s itinerary.
“Oh, yes, of course,” Abby said, catching up with the gist of Patty’s conversation.
“Oh, for sure,” Brad stated.
“I knew you would.” Patty slapped Bradley’s thigh as she laughed, allowing her hand to linger a little too long, Abby thought. “It’s Abby I wasn’t sure about. You know she’s been all nerves since she saw the activity list,” she added, a bit too gleefully.
Feeling more than a little affronted and not wanting Brad to know quite how nervous she had been about the whole trip, Abby leapt to her own defence. “I am definitely up for it!” she affirmed, adding more conviction to her tone than she actually felt.
“That’s great Abby,” Brad offered sincerely, before turning to Patty. Seeing the slightly smug smile that lingered on her face he added, “You shouldn’t underestimate Abby, Patty… I think she can be pretty amazing when she puts her mind to something!” A warm grin spread across his face, reaching his eyes, causing them to sparkle.
Abby looked at Patty, who appeared positively put in her place and for once speechless. A little taken aback and fighting the little lump which swelled in her throat at the sweet compliment Abby stood and grinned at Patty – ha, who feels affronted now? – and announced she was off to bed.
Still feeling buoyed by Bradley’s words, Abby got to her room and enjoyed a steamy shower before slipping into her panda print short pyjama set and a pair of fluffy slipper socks, both bought a little too hurriedly from the supermarket in preparation for the trip. Feeling thoroughly refreshed but wishing she had considered her pyjama choice a little more fully, she checked her phone. There was a message from Simon:
Hope you’ve had a good day. Jessica and Grace have been great. They are a credit to you – so bright and funny. I can’t believe I haven’t done this before; you know, with the two of them. Sorry. And sorry is not really enough. I’ve missed out on so much. And I miss you. I love you. I hope I get to prove how much I love all my girls!
Abby stared at his words, feeling thoroughly discombobulated. She missed her girls – her ‘best things’, she liked to call them – and in all honesty she missed her husband. The thing was, she wasn’t sure that the husband she missed was the one she still had. She scrolled through the pictures on her phone; pictures of Jessica and Grace, some of Simon on his many trips – Mexico, Las Vegas, California, all places she would have liked to visit too, if only she’d been invited – and one of them all together taken last Christmas. Yes, they are bright and funny, she thought; they are special and lovely and you didn’t notice until now! And now… now you want us, I’m not sure I can do it – just accept what you’ve done and move on. What if I can’t do that? After a few moments of staring at her phone, frustration building inside her, she growled into the empty room.
Almost instantly there was a knock at the door. Embarrassed that perhaps one of the children had heard her, she opened it slowly.
“Are you OK? I was just passing and thought I heard you say something.” It was Bradley, his voice a husky whisper.
Abby quickly became acutely aware that she was standing there in what now felt like her way-too-short panda print pyjama set and little else, and attempted to hide herself behind the door as she spo
ke. “I’m fine, honestly. Just venting. Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. Hey, thanks for earlier, you didn’t have to—”
Bradley took a step closer, causing Abby to lose track of what she was about to say.
“Abby,” he breathed, brushing her arm with his fingers, causing her skin to tingle, “I know I’m full of it, always joking, always making people laugh. But I know you have been through a lot lately. If you need anyone, I’m here. Honestly. Just say.”
His face was just inches from hers as he whispered. She could smell hot chocolate and a hint of his lingering aftershave mixed with the fresh-air scent of their afternoon spent outdoors. Abby imagined how easy it would be to kiss him, his lips already so close to hers. She didn’t offer an answer; she didn’t know what to say. She froze. Bradley held her gaze with his deep brown eyes and let out a sigh that brushed across her cheek.
“You are an amazing person Abby Turner, don’t forget that.” With that he turned and walked away.
Abby let out a breath. Bloody hell! Using all her strength not to call him back, she stood staring after him. She had expected teasing and joking but sincere, sexy-as-hell Bradley was something quite new. Feeling too warm even in her distinct lack of clothing she slumped, perplexed, on her bed, unsure what she had ever done to give Bradley Hunter the impression she was an amazing person. Of course, she told herself over and over, he’d got it wrong; he just felt sorry for her and was being kind; she definitely didn’t feel amazing, she hadn’t handled things amazingly and she knew she looked far from amazing. People like Kennedy and Melissa they were amazing – she was just ordinary, often out of her depth and generally not even in control of her own mind. Amazing, she determined, she was not!