by Kiki Archer
Jess had been waiting for this moment for so long, ‘Oh I am so pleased.’ She needed confirmation, ‘When?’
‘They sign off tomorrow ...’ Kat looked at her clock, ‘...today and it is their prom tonight-’
‘Your prom Miss Spicer! You have to go.’
Kat could not bear the thought of it. All teachers of Year Thirteen were expected to attend and share the magical evening with their protégés but she already had her excuse planned out. ‘I don’t know, maybe. Anyway when the holidays start I will try and contact her through the tennis club or something.’
Jess shook her head in disbelief, ‘Can you not just talk to her?’
She could still not quite believe it herself, ‘I know this sounds ridiculous but she is never on her own. Bea is like a blood sucking limpet who watches her every move and things have got so much worse since their accident.’ It was true and had been so incredibly frustrating for her, but she had managed to give Freya a private smile and word of good luck for the A2 History paper as she waited outside the exam hall for her name to be called; Harley Adams and Beatrice Belshaw had already gone in.
‘Lucy is going.’
Kat smiled, ‘I know, bless her. Poor Mr Puller is going to break a few hearts tonight.’
‘So might you,’ giggled Jess winking in the dim light.
‘That, I can tell you right now, is a guaranteed no.’
Kat sat at her allocated table in the Main Hall with six empty boxes in front of her. The Year Elevens and Sixth Formers were returning from their study leave, to sign off from school and supposedly return all borrowed books now that exams were over. She watched as Chianne Granger burst through the open fire exit doors wearing a pair of sunglasses that were slightly larger than her micro denim hot pants. The matching denim waistcoat and black fish net tights made Kat think of Madonna in the early eighties, a Madonna dressed as a very fat Miss Piggy. Her empty sequinned clutch bag was going to disappoint her subject teachers, but the knowledge that they would never have to see Chianne Granger again more than made up for their missing books. She was strolling over to Kat, presumably provocatively, with one leg sexily crossing in front of the other; she winked.
‘Hello Chianne. How can I help you?’ Janet Louza had had the pleasure of taking bottom set GCSE this year and Kat was ever so grateful to have avoided spending any more time with Chianne and her gang than she already had done.
Chianne lifted her tongue to her lip glossed top lip and waited. Ok that would have been long enough for Miss Spicer to absorb her beauty, ‘You will be pleased to know that moi is taking History A - Level with you next year.’ She pushed up her nonexistent chest and winked.
Kat coughed quietly and adjusted herself in the seat, ‘So you are hoping for a C then?’
Chianne sucked her buck teeth, ‘No problem Miss!’ She returned to her purring, ‘September 6, I’ve got that date in my diary, see you there Spicer.’ She tucked her sequinned clutch bag under her arm, Kat could no longer see it, and span around, shaking her booty as she disappeared into the signing off room.
Kat smiled privately and watched the excited buzz of the hall. The Year Eleven’s were in their own clothes, thrilled to finally display their own style to their teachers, testing the image they would carry on into the Sixth Form. Others were just thrilled that they would never have to set foot inside Coldfield Comp ever again. The Sixth Formers were all wandering around with teary eyes saying heartfelt thank-yous to their never to be forgotten teachers, thank yous that would inevitably get more heartfelt and emotional as the day of the prom progressed. Kat heard the rustle of bags and turned around to see Bea and Freya weighed down with plastic carriers full of textbooks. ‘Hi girls,’ she said nicely, her eyes drawn to the faint scar still visible on the left hand side of Freya’s head. She had been so lucky. The window had broken and cut various parts of her body, but all had healed well and she had gained consciousness quickly in the hospital. Forty eight hours later she was home – and back in Bea’s arms thought Kat bringing herself back to the bustling room. ‘Are these all for me?’ A stack of books had been plonked on her desk.
Bea hit Kat with one of her dirtiest stares, ‘Obviously.’
She just did not understand; what was Freya still doing with her?
Bea took control once again, ‘Come on Freya, she was the last, so let’s go and sign off and start proceedings.’ She looked at Kat with thin eyes, ‘We are having hands, feet, nails, hair and make-up all done for tonight and we need to fit it in before our pink limo arrives to take us in style.’
‘Are you coming?’ asked Freya desperately trying to show her warmth, but Kat was too busy eyeballing Bea.
‘Try and stop me,’ she maintained her stare.
She turned to Bea, ‘Could I have a word with Miss Spicer on her own please.’ Freya sounded timid.
Bea spun around and stared at her, ‘Fine, but you know what will happen.’ She marched away from the table towards the signing off room.
Freya was broken inside but she had no choice, ‘Sorry I need to go. Maybe catch up later?’
‘Hope so,’ whispered Kat, deciding enough was enough; it would have to be tonight. Freya had already gone.
Bea felt Freya’s presence once again at her side. There was nothing in this world she could not have if she wanted it. Last on the list were those three little words, Freya had still not said it and it was really starting to anger her. She signed the sheet first and Freya followed suit, both receiving an odd hand shake from the Head, at least they thought it was the Head, they had only seen the woman from afar on a couple of occasions. Bea took Freya’s hand and walked back through the Hall in full view of Miss Spicer and out of the open fire doors into the glaring summer sunlight. If changing a digit of Kat’s number and fabricating stories about her new love interest wasn’t enough then the threat of passing on damming information about her kiss with Freya, private tennis match and personal meeting in Kat’s own home, seemed to have worked. Freya rarely breathed her name anymore. It took quite a bit of manipulation to extract the full story, but Bea had succeeded, as she did with all aspects of her life. If you want it, get it, she thought as she pulled her black Prada sunglasses onto her head and marched Freya to their first appointment.
Diane Pity and Fiona Mews stood up from their seats and craned their necks as they watched Kirsty Spaulding cross the busy Hall towards Kat’s desk. What a fantastic day they thought – taken off timetable to just sit and collect books, prom tonight and watching the final downfall of the highly irritating Miss Spicer. Fiona trotted to Diane’s desk and they stood shoulder to shoulder revelling in the vision of Kirsty Spaulding directing Kat to her office. They realised that their dossier must have been read and digested and was now about to deliver its fatal blow. How would they have managed without the help of that gorgeous, tanned, but unfortunately gay, Sixth Former?
‘So long Spicer,’ sang Diane.
Fiona flared her nostrils, ‘At least we won’t have to see her ugly face tonight.’
Kirsty walked in silence, nodding at the odd student who passed her, absolutely no idea of names. She buzzed open her office door and the rich aroma of coffee was comforting, even though Kat knew this was not going to be a comfortable meeting. The way Diane and Fiona had stood from their empty tables and peered over with such personal pride made her worry.
The office door clicked closed and Kirsty flicked off her shoes, jumped around and grabbed Kat’s arms, ‘What are you waiting for?’ she cheered.
‘Pardon?’
‘Oh don’t start that again! She has just signed off. You’re free. Go and claim her!’
Her heart started to quicken, ‘Sorry?’
Kirsty lifted what look like a manual from her desk and thrust it into Kat’s chest. ‘Courtesy of Miss Mews and ...’ she clicked her fingers, ‘the one that dresses like a hooker ... Pity. Can you believe it? Forty two pages! I mean neither of them write that much when planning or marking, but forty two pages – unbelievable.
’
She opened the front cover of the blue file. Grievance filed against Miss K. Spicer - Behaviour unbecoming of a staff member. There were times and dates, details of supposed trysts, even a list of text messages she had sent. Bea thought Kat. She was fuming but also deeply embarrassed. ‘I am so sorry.’
‘Oh get over yourself!’ Kirsty was pouring two Malt Whiskeys into large crystal tumblers. She tapped the buzzing screen on her desk, ‘I told you before, I know exactly what goes on in this school and your behaviour has been exemplary.’
She needed to be honest. ‘I kissed her.’
Kirsty had quickly separated the truth from the lies, ‘Before your contract officially started,’ she paused taking a huge swig of the expensive potent liquid, ‘and anyway you should have carried on! I would have turned a blind eye. Me and my Trevor were at it all over the place.’ She closed her eyes, ‘Mr Spaulding. PE. We did it on the trampoline, in the swimming pool, even in the staffroom once; I was only fifteen!’
Kat gulped her Whiskey.
‘Now he was a good teacher.’ She moaned in remembrance, ‘Still is mind you, although his cavorting with Year Tens has stopped now.’
‘Is that how old you were?’ Kat was trying to keep her composure, in this once again incredible situation in this quite incredible Head’s Office.
‘That’s when we first progressed from kissing if you know what I mean.’ She ribbed Kat with her elbow with no response. ‘Oh lighten up Miss Spicer.’
She lifted the blue file, ‘What does this mean?’
‘It is all irrelevant drivel. It means nothing.’ Kirsty waited for the smile but it did not arrive. ‘It means you go and win her back from that dreadful Beatrice Belshaw. Her parents are an absolute nightmare. I only took her on a managed move because they offered to pay for a new statue in the entrance hall. I was thinking of getting an Angel.’
Kat remained quiet.
Kirsty put down her Whiskey and stood still. ‘Are you telling me this is all lies?’ She tapped the dossier that she was still holding, ‘Are you telling me there are no feelings there?’
She shrugged her shoulders slightly.
‘Well if I find out you have not told the fabulous Freya Elton then I will be having a quiet little word in her ear, just like I will with those two awful hussies out there.’ Kirsty was slowly but surely creating her own private dossier on the pair of them which she hoped would eventually put an end to their miserable presence at her fast improving school.
‘Please don’t,’ said Kat feeling quite emotional.
‘Come here big girl,’ whispered Kirsty reaching up to hug her tightly. ‘You have had a fantastic year and I am so excited about results day. Your predicted scores could nudge us ahead of John Taylor’s for the first time in thirty years.’
‘I hope so.’
‘See you tonight.’ It was an order and Kirsty watched as the remarkable Miss Spicer left her office, probably in a greater turmoil than before. That one just needs to loosen up a little she thought as she threw a tiny mint in her mouth and squeezed her black shoes back on, ready once again to meet her people.
Chapter 25
Kat and Lucy perched against the tall red breakfast stools, neither wanting to crease their beautiful dresses and both aware that a dainty rise from the lounge sofa was a near impossibility. Ben with his smart black tuxedo did not have that same issue and admired them from afar. Lucy looked lovely in her new teal, shimmering taffeta, knee length gown. Her shoulders were bare and Ben smiled at the strength clearly visible in her arms, softened slightly by the delicate rose corsage replicating itself like a waterfall down the side of the dress. Kat however, looked sensational. She was a mixture of Grecian charm and evening elegance as the long black chiffon layers of her stunning evening gown split, unveiling a glossy satin fabric underneath. Ben’s eyes flicked up to the band of glistening beads wrapped under her chest, accentuating her already incredible figure. Her hair was pulled up in a complex knot fastened with small white flowers and her features looked even more striking than usual. Ben realised he was staring and reach across the black sofa for his phone. He began to dial the number for Coldfield Cabs, twenty past seven should do it; the venue was pretty close. As he reached the final few digits the apartment door crashed open and Jess and Gary galloped in both clutching a small black photograph. Ben put the phone down.
‘It looks like I am destined to marry pregnant,’ shouted Jess, a tear of joy in her eye.
Gary was visibly choked, ‘How do people fancy a Christmas wedding?’
Jess handed her twelve week scan photos to Kat and Lucy and cried with delight. They had secretly planned to try again, but had no idea it would actually happen so quickly. Ben dashed to the fridge and grabbed the expensive bottle of Moet. No one else had noticed their nervous energy or the delicate way Gary would place his hand on Jess’s stomach during their weekly film nights; he had and he was prepared, just in case. ‘Cheers guys. I had a feeling.’
Lucy banged his strong chest with her teal clutch bag, ‘You did not!’
He nodded, ‘I did.’
‘Oh look at my man,’ she cooed as Ben passed around the glasses, ‘isn’t he simply the best.’
Glasses chinked together and a mixture of happiness and pride washed over Kat. Despite her initial false protesting Jess was desperate to become a mother and a wife and had been since the day she met Gary all of those years ago.
Their impromptu celebration led Kat, Lucy and Ben to miss the start of the Coldfield Prom and avoid the much deliberated style of student arrival. Word in the venue was that Bea and Freya’s pink Limo had been somewhat overshadowed by the huge Hummer hired by the PE gang. Big Tom and Little Jason had also made a memorable entrance whizzing down the steep drive of Tuckrup Hall on green children’s pedal tractors. General consensus in the buzzing grand hall was that top spot went to Poppy Jones who landed on the acre in front of the country house in a small two - seater helicopter. Rumours were rife that her family had won a small fortune on the premium bonds. Kat listened to the excited buzz as she studied the huge seating plan. She looked around at the girls in their beautiful ball gowns and boys in their stylish suits and checked the plan again.
‘Sorry. We did not think you would be here,’ sneered Diane looking horrific in an orange and yellow striped micro dress with orange nails, eye shadow and lipstick to compliment, ‘...and I have no idea who you are?’ She looked Lucy up and down and Lucy openly cringed at the way Diane’s yellow crimped hair clashed hideously with her garish orange colour scheme.
Ben reached for Lucy’s waist with two hands and gently kissed her on the lips. ‘This is Lucy Lovett and she is my very delicious, very delightful girlfriend.’
She reddened; an audience had started to form.
He kissed her again. ‘In fact she is the love of my life.’
Lucy looked into his wonderfully caring eyes, oblivious to the cheers of ‘Go Sir!’ and ‘Get in there!’ and knew she could die happy. What was that saying? Oh well it does not matter now she thought kissing him back and finally noticing the whistles.
Diane was fuming. She might have lost that battle for now, but there was one she was adamant she had to win. She spun on her heels and headed to the stage. Where was that microphone?
Kat scanned the large dining room complete with huge shiny banners and floating helium balloons, the buzz was electric and every proudly dressed person knew the carefully prepared and greatly anticipated evening would be remembered for the rest of their lives. Kirsty Spaulding had given Kat the last bit of confidence she needed to finally do what she had dreamt about doing from the moment she set eyes on Freya at the back of her class all of those months ago. She searched the room once again, her eyes drawn to the huge pink and white balloon arch standing proudly on the stage; where was she? It was now or never; she had been restraining her heart for too long; soon Freya would understand.
Diane tapped the black microphone noisily and wiggled her bottom on the centre of th
e stage. ‘Hello and welcome to Coldfield Prom two thousand and twelve!’
The crowd in the hall were not particularly responsive. No one liked Miss Pity and all were aware that she had done little to help them in her supposed role of prom co-ordinator.
‘Can I get a yeah!?’
One quiet yeah came back.
She stopped wiggling and stood up straight, ‘Sorry I forgot you are all grown adults now!’ She laughed on her own. She had been practicing her fairground voice, aiming to sound like one of those women from the waltzers shouting, “Do you wanna go faster?!” It was not working. ‘Anyway without further ado let’s start this momentous evening.’ She clicked her fingers and Aerosmith’s I don’t want to miss a thing started to play. ‘We have decided to announce this year’s prom couple at the start of the evening so the lucky pair can bask in their glory all night.’ She placed a hand on her hip and did another embarrassing wiggle. She reached sexily into her tight top for the warm brown envelope nestled snugly in her orange laced bra, this bit had been practiced and perfected and she was sure of the wolf whistles of delight to follow. There was silence and a couple of the girls looked away in disgust. Diane realised she was dying on her feet and decided to make it quick. ‘Ok, ninety percent of you voted on the school intranet last week and the results are ...’ She clicked her fingers and the drum roll sounded.
People had started to pay attention to the dreadful Miss Pity as she clicked her fingers again and the drum roll increased in volume; they were actually getting quite excited. Diane clicked her fingers once more and it was deafening. She had requested two free periods from Kathy from Cover in preparation for tonight’s proceedings and was pleased the effects were finally raising anticipation. ‘In third place ... Dave and Grace!’ The waltzer voice had returned. There was polite clapping, no one really liked Dave and Grace, they had been together since Year Eight and reminded most people of their mum’s and dad’s. Diane was shimmying all parts of her body and jigging strangely on the spot lit stage. ‘In second place .... Paul and Eve.’ The cheering had begun as the runner up’s raised their hands and gave a polite nod. Diane stared across the balloon filled hall and spotted Kat stood quietly by the door. ‘That means in first place .... the wonderful .... the revolutionary ... the modern ... and perfectly suited Bea and Freya!’ She clicked and Aerosmith was raised to full volume. It was the first time Kat had seen her. She looked incredible in a knee length ivory dress, with a black ribbon sash tied daintily round her waist. She glimpsed her black floral corsage as a swarm of people surrounded the pair and pink balloons engulfed the hall from the ceiling.