by Peter Martin
‘Good, this will be a means to an end.’
‘Sir, I need to ask you a big favour. Would you come with me? I don’t know who else to ask.’
Billy raised his eyebrows, let out a sigh; he shouldn’t do it, but he didn’t want her to be on her own. ‘Listen, Sarah, it wouldn’t be appropriate. It’s best if you go on your own, or ask a friend.’
She nodded. ‘Oh, okay.’
‘The outcome of the assessment is the next step.’
‘Whatever the assessment, I’ve decided to have a termination,’ she said.
‘That’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?’
‘No, thanks to you it seems a lot clearer now.’
‘Talk to them at the assessment first. Don’t do this on account of me.’
‘I’m not. Thank you for everything, sir. As for Spike …’ She hesitated. ‘It’s finished.’
So, with that slip of the tongue she revealed the father’s name. Stuart Duncan, commonly known as ‘Spike’ because of his hair.
Not wanting to answer questions, she swiftly left the room saying, ‘I’ll let you know how I get on, sir.’
<><><>
The assessment didn’t change her mind. The termination was scheduled for a Friday. All over the weekend, Billy wondered how she was. He noticed she was at school on the Thursday after. She stayed at the back of the class and he didn’t acknowledge her until the end of the lesson, when as usual she was last to leave. He gave her a warm smile, which she returned.
‘Hallo, Sarah, how are you?’
‘I’m all right,’ she replied.
‘You don’t look all right. I presume you went through with it.’
She bowed her head and burst into tears.
‘Come on, it’s done now – try and put it behind you.’
‘I’ve killed my child, my own flesh and blood,’ she muttered.
‘Try to look at it another way: you have a bright future ahead of you.’
‘Sir, I wish I hadn’t done it.’
‘You had no choice. How could you have coped? You couldn’t have given the poor little mite the start he or she needed.’
Sarah shuddered in dismay.
‘We all make mistakes when we’re young – dear God, I made a few myself when I was your age. But if you can learn from them, you’ll go far.’
‘I know you’re right, but I still keep pondering over what I’ve done. And what if I’m punished?’
‘You won’t be. No amount of bad feelings will ever change what happened. Remember that.’
‘I’m trying, sir, but I can’t concentrate on my work.’
‘That’s understandable. It will pass, you’ll see. Did anyone go with you?’
‘No, I did it on my own.’
‘That was very brave of you. Did your parents notice anything?’
‘No. When I came back, I told them I’d been sick at school and stayed in bed all weekend. They never suspected a thing.’
‘That’s good for you. You can put the whole affair behind you now. And the next time you’re in that sort of situation, make sure you take precautions – all right?’
‘I don’t think I’ll be getting into that sort of relationship for a while. I’ve learnt my lesson the hard way.’
‘Yes, I know. You live and learn, Sarah. I hope in the future any help you need from me will be work-related, in particular your writing.’
‘I haven’t felt like writing lately, sir. But perhaps in time I will start again.’
<><><>
Saturday afternoon, a few weeks later, walking down Dexford High Street with a copy of The Storyteller by Jodi Picoult under his arm, Billy sought out his favourite coffee shop, Benjamin’s. At this time of day, four o’clock, the place was usually quiet, allowing him to concentrate fully on reading this book which he couldn’t put down.
He ordered a coffee and had taken it across the room towards the back when he heard someone call his name loud enough for the whole coffee shop to hear.
‘Mr Price!’
Billy turned around and saw Sarah with a great big smile on her face.
‘Hallo, Sarah, what brings you here?’
‘I often come here during the weekend, just to relax and unwind, what with my exams coming up. How about you?’
‘As a matter of fact, I came for a bit of peace and quiet, and to read this,’ he said, showing her the hardback.
‘Really, mind if I join you? I’m intrigued to hear your thoughts.’
‘Oh, yes, why’s that?’
‘Because I’ve just finishing reading it myself.’
‘Really, don’t tell me the end!’
‘I won’t. I found it very harrowing and emotional. I’ve heard of the Holocaust and what happened in the war, but it opened my eyes. I can’t believe what went on, and what all those poor people went through.’
‘Yes, that’s very true. I must admit I’ve been close to tears myself at times.’
‘I love the relationship between Sage and Josef. And then when you find out Josef was a Nazi during the war, and that Sage’s grandmother was a Holocaust survivor. Well, I was so moved.’
‘Yes, it would make a great film,’ Billy said.
‘I wish I could write a book like that. It inspires me to want to start writing again.’
‘That’s great news, but concentrate on your schoolwork first. Writing is for your spare time right now.’
‘Thanks, sir, I’d like to show my appreciation for what you’ve done for me these past few weeks. What if I took you out for a meal, and I’ll pay?’
‘Hey, Sarah, there’s no need, honestly.’
‘Please, let me do this, it would make me feel better. How else can I repay you?’
Billy sighed – this was all he needed, but there seemed no way out.
When he didn’t answer, she said, ‘So you’ll come?’ Her bright eyes were rimmed with thick lashes, her eyebrows raised in expectation.
‘Doesn’t look as though I’ve got much choice, does it?’
‘No, you haven’t. There’s an exclusive Italian restaurant in Redburn. Antonio’s? It’s just off the High Street,’ she told him.
‘Yes, I know it well. Was it a random guess, or have you found out I like Italian food?’
‘Everybody likes Italian food. So, are you game?’
‘If you insist.’
‘Brilliant.’
‘Best pick you up somewhere – not outside your house though, eh? How about that disused church down the road, say seven-thirty Friday night?’ he suggested.
‘Not ashamed of me, are you, sir?’ she joked.
‘No, not at all, but we don’t want certain people getting the wrong idea, do we?’
<><><>
In no time his evening out with Sarah came around. But the uneasiness he felt as he got into the car to pick her up didn’t bode well; he had visions of being unable to eat a single morsel. As soon as she’d suggested it, he knew he couldn’t get out of it. So many emotions went through his head, and he feared this would bring even more complications.
On turning the car into the narrow side street towards the arranged pick-up point, his heart was pounding in case someone saw him, but as Sarah came into view her appearance blotted it out.
She wore a short white skirt, high heels and a black leather jacket. Her blonde shoulder-length hair, worn loose, framed her pretty face.
He stopped the car, and she opened the door to get in. She looked older, maybe due to the make-up.
‘Hi, Sarah.’ He smiled. ‘You look smart.’
‘Thanks, sir.
‘Listen, can you drop the “sir” bit for tonight? Call me Billy; it’ll make us both more comfortable.’
‘Oh, right, Billy,’ she giggled. ‘I’ll be glad when we get there – I’m getting hungry, and the thought of all that beautiful pasta is making me drool.’
‘Won’t be long now,’ he said as he guided the car towards the restaurant.
Inside they were greeted and shown to their ta
ble at the back of the room. The small atmospheric restaurant had only twelve tables.
The waiter, an olive-skinned middle-aged man with a thin moustache and slicked-black hair, pulled back the chairs for them to sit down. Having given them each a menu, he left them to make their choices.
Not wanting Sarah to spend too much, Billy chose Rigatoni Arabiata, and Sarah ordered Spaghetti Bolognese. And to drink they both had mineral water.
The food was good, and the conversation flowed easily, albeit Sarah did most of the talking, about her family; her father was now a security officer, her mother a school secretary. She had three older brothers, all in the police force, and a younger sister. They were a close-knit family, her dad straight-laced and puritan in his outlook. He understood why she hadn’t been able to share the news of her pregnancy with them.
‘Sounds like you’ve got the best family in the world – as I had once myself,’ he said sadly, remembering his late parents and uncle.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Oh, it’s a long story, I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details.’
‘I wouldn’t find it boring. I’m intrigued now after what you said. Please tell me about your life.’
Billy took in a deep breath. ‘Are you sure? We could be here all night.’
‘Honestly, I am sure.’ She stared at him with those dark blue eyes. He was convinced she really was interested.
As he told her the story, she said ‘Wow’ a few times and appeared to listen to every word.
‘That’s incredible. I can’t believe you’ve had so much tragedy in your life. To lose your whole family is so sad. How do you get over that?’
‘With difficulty. It hasn’t been easy, I could’ve easily gone under. I kept thinking about my sister and how she suffered. It was heart-breaking to watch at such a young age. I’ll never forget those images of Katie, she was nothing more than skin and bone at the end. I couldn’t stop crying for weeks. But I kept telling myself if I’d been spared, I had to do something with my life, and I did.’
‘Good for you. You know, you’re such a good role model.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so. I’m far from perfect, especially when I remember how I used to be.’
‘That’s just it. You came through it all and look at you now.’
‘Maybe.’
‘I wish my parents were like yours. Before your sister died you must have been very happy.’
‘I was. But look what my dad did afterwards, and my mother too.’
‘Yes, but that was because of the circumstances they were in. You see, my mum and dad are very old-fashioned. You can’t imagine their reaction if they’d found out I was pregnant.’
‘And what would they do if they saw you out with your English teacher?’
‘Hit you, I should think.’
‘Exactly. Well, they’ll never know, will they?’
‘No, they won’t.’ She suppressed a giggle.
‘So, do you have any ideas about what you’re going to write about next?’
‘Funny you should ask that. I said I wanted to start again, and I did pen a poem. I keep it with me; it’s about what happened a few weeks ago …’ she said with her face reddening, and looking down at the floor.
‘It’s only natural you’d want to put it down on paper – after all it was a horrible experience.’
‘Yes, that’s true. I did find it emotional. So many feelings went through my mind, and even now I wonder if I’ve done the wrong thing,’ she sighed.
‘Come on, Sarah, I keep telling you, it’s no good tormenting yourself like this. You made the decision and it was the right one.’ Billy saw her rummage in the pocket of her jacket and pull out a crumpled piece of paper. She handed it to him. It contained a roughly written poem entitled Aborted Child. Billy read it slowly. All four verses held the most tender and poignant touches, giving it a true-to-life aura; which triggered a sense of shame for the part he played in encouraging her to have the procedure.
In all he must have read it three times while they sat there, each time it sounded better than the last.
Finally, he shook his head with wonder, and, looking up, astonished someone so young could write so well, said, ‘Sarah, this,’ – he shook the piece of paper – ‘is the most beautiful poem I’ve read in a long time.’
‘It only took me half an hour to write one afternoon when I was feeling low.’
‘Never give up on your writing, you have a rare gift.’ A genius in the making, he thought. ‘I’m sure in the future you’ll make a name for yourself. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if in a few years’ time, I could say I was there to assist you in your humble beginnings?’ he remarked, smiling at her across the table.
‘You’re a bit over-the-top there.’ She grinned. ‘The poems are scribbles that just come to me. They’re personal, but I’m not sure I want the whole world to see them, and the same goes for my stories.’
‘Ahh, but your so-called scribbles are brilliant. I’d like to make a few enquires for you, show them to one or two people connected to some publications, and see what they think. What do you say?’
Sarah smiled. ‘Okay, but I can’t imagine someone wanting to publish a few of my scrawls.’
‘They will, and just think, you may not have got this opportunity or the time to perfect your craft.’ He made no mention of the abortion.
But the icy glare she gave him indicated she’d understood the implied remark, and she curtly replied, ‘You don’t have all the answers, Billy.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, but on this occasion, I am right.’
After that the atmosphere became subdued until Billy pushed his plate away saying, ‘I can’t eat another crumb.’ He looked at her and smiled.’ I’m full up.’
‘Me too – I’ll ask for the bill, shall I?’
‘Sarah, it would please me no end if you’d let me pay?’ Seeing the disappointment in her eyes, he said, ‘Well, at least go halves.’
But with great determination Sarah eventually got her own way despite his protests.
Being early April, the temperature outside had dropped noticeably and away from the bright lights of the restaurant, dusk was fast approaching. Uppermost in Billy’s mind was the price of the meal and, on reaching the car, he was obliged to comment. ‘That must have cost you a fortune – I can’t imagine you having much spare cash.’
‘Oh, didn’t I tell you, I’ve got a part-time job working in a supermarket at weekends? The pay’s good too, double on Sundays and time-and-a-half on Saturdays.’
‘Doesn’t matter, there’s no need to go wasting it on me.’
‘I’m not. I wanted to find a way of thanking you, that’s all.’
Billy let the subject drop. And within minutes they approached the street where they’d met earlier. ‘Sarah, maybe I should take you a little closer to home, as it’s so dark. Is that all right?’
‘Yes, okay.’ She gave him directions, asking him to stop near where she lived. She pointed to a house halfway down and said, ‘That’s where I live.’ A grin came on her face as she explained, ‘You can’t miss it, can you?’
‘You mean it’s the one with the lights.’ She nodded, but when he added diplomatically, ‘I suppose it’s for the best with all the burglaries going on.’
She burst out laughing. ‘Yes, that’s Dad, he’s a security nut. It started with intruder lights and then to locks, bolts and alarms. You name it, we’ve got it.’
‘Ah, a man of detail then. Perhaps you’ve inherited his attention to detail with your writing.’
‘I don’t want to be as obsessed as Dad is with all that.’ She nodded towards the house. ‘But someday my writing might become more than a hobby.’
He grinned. ‘Well, that’s up to you. You have the talent. Work hard, be persistent and patient too, and I’m sure you’ll get there.’ He looked into her smiling face. ‘Oh, one more thing, Sarah. In the future we have to be careful. No matter how it pains me, it’s unethical for a teach
er to go out with one of his students socially.’ He hated saying this. ‘Nor can I give you preferential treatment, however talented you are. There would be serious recriminations, and it would cost me my job. That’s why we have to be pupil and teacher again.’
If only they’d have met under different circumstances.
She looked hurt, dejected even – but it was nothing compared to his own despair.
‘Sarah, I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s important we keep our distance from now on – our relationship must only be about school. Please don’t be offended, I have your best interests at heart.’
‘Aren’t you being a little over dramatic,’ she suggested with a smile.
‘No. Once you’ve left school, things will be different, and I’ll help you all I can.’
‘Different how?’ she asked, her eyes twinkling.
Billy felt his face become flushed. He feared he’d made a complete fool of himself.
She placed her hand on his knee, and said, ‘It might well be that a young student like me has feelings too.’
‘Yes, but that could get us both in a lot of trouble.’
Only a hair’s breadth away, he wanted to kiss her. Somehow, he resisted. ‘It’s no good, Sarah; we’ve both got too much to lose.’
‘Maybe, but it won’t always be like that.’ She looked sad. ‘Once I’ve finished at school, no one can stop us.’
‘But that’s a long time away. A lot can happen in the next eighteen months. You might meet another lad your age and forget about me and your writing.’
‘You believe that? I don’t want anyone of my own age. The last time I tried that I ended up pregnant. I need a mature man like you, who’ll take care of me through thick and thin.’
‘In an ideal world we would be together, but neither of us knows what the future will bring. In the meantime, our relationship has to be on a strictly pupil and teacher basis. Although it’s tearing me apart, that’s how it has to be until you’ve finished your exams. At that time, if we still feel the same, it’ll be worth waiting for.’