by Kitty Wilson
The whole thing took less than a minute and as Susie slid down from her she felt Matt’s eyes upon her, and her own shoulders tighten. Did he think she was being too soft? Come on, her rational self kicked in, why would he do that? This is your anxiety raising its head and is far more about you than him. She would have to get her emotional responses to his presence under better control. Frustration that he made her feel a myriad of ways was her responsibility. She could wallow in that later with a big bowl of ice cream; for now her self-indulgence needed to stop.
Matt delivered his welcome and then trooped the children into the greenhouse where again he explained the tools and the vegetables exactly as he had done earlier. Rosy knew she could watch this all day and each time the wonderment of the different children would keep it special and fresh. She wasn’t called to the front this time; he chose Susie instead, who puffed up a good visible few inches as she stood there, in front of all the bigger children, being the helper.
It didn’t take long before this group too had had their play in the mud and returned to the minibus, Matt waving them all off as Rosy helped them into their seatbelts. Time for round three.
The rest of the morning sped by. Matt had – and she wasn’t sure how he knew to do this without having spent hours understanding the developmental-appropriate nature of teaching – changed the format slightly to reflect their age and abilities. He approached the thing in a more scientific way, still engaging them and making it all a two-way process. She had to admire it.
As they returned to the school, Rosy took her lunch in her office rather than the staffroom. She had the meeting with Katie and a whole pile of paperwork to sort through. Plus, she knew the staffroom was going to be full of parent helpers and teaching assistants cooing over how lovely Matt was. Bleurgh!
Katie knocked and came in, a statuesque blonde with a mind so sharp that Rosy was in awe of her. She was certainly the smartest person Rosy had ever met, and although she could be blunt and incisive, she was rarely wrong.
‘So, Bradley clearly needs a lot of support. He did cope very well today, especially at Penmenna Hall, but I think that is because of the excellent care you’re already providing in the shape of Becky and his care plan and I don’t see why you or he should be penalized for the fact that strong provision is in place. Apart from anything else he’ll need a wealth of things in place to ease his transition to Class Two when the time comes. In your email you outlined the potential changes the Local Authority are suggesting, and you’re right, a change of schools at this stage to a big, new busier school could well mean he can no longer access mainstream education. I’m happy to write a report robustly stating that, and will include some of your other special educational needs children’s details too because it’s also going to negatively impact them. Although you and I both know I can’t promise it will do any good. Once Edward Grant has the bit between his teeth…’ She paused briefly, both women knew the implication, before continuing. ‘Anyway, for the here and now I will be recommending that he has a minimum…’ She carried on in this vein for some time, outlining the targets they would hope to meet for him, and the best ways to do so. Rosy breathed a sigh of relief. She knew she was lucky to have such strong educational psychologist support; she had worked in schools before where there was no one in post, or the person appointed was completely inept. Having an expert in their corner made such a huge difference to the life chances of these children.
‘Now that Bradley is sorted, let’s turn to you, Rosy.’
‘What?’
‘I’m going to cross every professional boundary here because a) my interest is piqued and b) we’re supposed to be friends and I can’t believe you haven’t mentioned the exciting news in your life.’
‘I don’t have any exciting news.’
‘Rosy, I’m an educational psychologist, not a mind-reader, but you’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice there is a very definite something happening between you and the dishy gardener.’
‘Oh, Katie, don’t make me doubt your skills now.’
‘Oh, Rosy, don’t think you can brush me off like a fool. Spill!’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘OK, if that’s the way you want to play it, but if I can see it clear as day after being onsite for an hour or so, do you honestly think the children and parents are going to miss it, not to mention the cameras and a national television audience? No, don’t scrunch your face up like that, that doesn’t make it go away. Nope, neither does picking at that limp bit of salad and pretending I’m not here. All I’m saying is, as your friend, be very careful. Very careful indeed, because this show will raise the school’s profile massively.’
‘That’s why we’re doing it.’
‘I hadn’t finished! It will also probably make a star out of that man. He is ridiculously good-looking and from what I saw a natural with the children; they’re going to be swooning left, right and centre.’
‘Humpf!’
‘And you are going to be the grumpy old cow who shot him a really evil look as you arrived and for no apparent reason. Now which one is going to be vilified in the press? Rosy, I don’t know why you have a problem with him but you need to sort whatever this is out, and preferably before the cameras are rolling this afternoon.’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Ha!’ It was a triumphant crow which received a suitably pitched Rosy scowl. ‘OK, so we’ve made progress, you’re no longer denying it. What has he done to you? Have you slept with him?’
Rosy watched a bit of lettuce launch from her mouth across the carpet.
‘I’ll take that as a no, then, but he wants to. Do you know, and this sounds big-headed but I’m not trying to be, I’m just stating fact, he didn’t look at me once, not once other than in a friendly nod kind of way. Not that I want him to,’ Katie hastily added, ‘but they normally do. But you, his eyes went a bit squishy when he looked at you, and then sad. Squishy and sad. You don’t stand a chance when that gets aired.’
‘Oh bloody hell.’
‘So, we’ve established he fancies you. In my very quick professional and untainted-by-rather-beautiful-arms assessment, I can’t see much wrong with him. He seems intelligent, hardworking and bloody decent, if his rapport with the kids is to be trusted – which it probably is. That’s the holy bloody triumvirate. Men like that are rare, let’s face it, so the question is, what’s wrong with you? Why the grumpy face?’
‘Thanks for that, Katie. Makes me feel piles better.’
‘Seriously, why did you shoot this man a look of pure evil as if you want to pull his fingernails off one by one?’
‘Because’ – Rosy’s voice came out unnaturally high – ‘he seems bloody lovely, but, oh I don’t know. I’m just being an arse. I behaved badly the other day, I’m embarrassed and I don’t think he deserved it, but I’m not sure. I think that’s why he got the daggers, guilt on my part, but I did try and rein it in. The truth is, I’m so confused. I think I was in the wrong but I just don’t know, it’s equally possible that I’m in the right, Seriously, Katie, you’re a professional – did you spot any signs of psychopathy or sociopathy this morning? Any glimmers at all? He has been showing all the signs of being keen, but he’s just everywhere, all over my life and in a really short timeframe. He lives next door, I get to see him all the time, him and his I’m-so-cute-and-look-I-have-a-bloody-lovely-dog-as-well smile and then if that’s not enough, he only wants to come along and save the school. I can’t get rid of him, he’s at my home, he’s now in my work and he seems to have taken up permanent residence in my bloody head. I can’t stop thinking about him and yet I know I can’t go anywhere near him. Apart from anything else my instincts are all out of kilter and now we seem to be working together. It’s confusing, frustrating and it just all makes me want to scream! So, yeah, I guess that’s why I may be shooting him looks, but I really do think it was just the one, and it was super quick.’
‘Hmmm, the only thing I can tell is s
omething isn’t quite right here, and I’m not sure it’s because he lives next door. What you’re saying is a little bit chaotic and that’s not like you. I think this might be a case of you and me and the pub tonight! From what I saw, albeit briefly, this morning, I think there has been some stupid mix-up. Experience teaches us that communication is key. You know that. I know you know that. I suggest you start again. I’m no kind of love guru, my own private life is testament to that, but if I were you I’d hold fire on the evil looks, suck up the humiliation and try and play nice for the rest of the day. We can chat it out a bit more later, but right now I have to shoot, they’re waiting for me at Sanding Bridge school. I’ll catch up with you later – six? I’ll set the ball rolling re Bradley and I’ll see you later. Oh, and seriously, consider what I’ve said about overthinking, just let the day roll out the way it’s going to. Things are rarely as bad as we think they are.’
‘Yes, I know. Go on, out! I’ll see you in a bit and you can try and sort my head out. But I don’t fancy your chances!’
‘We’ll see.’ And Katie and her very knowing looks departed.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was coming to the end of the day and Matt was exhausted, happy but exhausted. Actually scratch that, yes, he was both those things but baffled, he was very definitely baffled as well.
He looked up at Rosy, who was at that very minute working alongside the eldest children in the school, planting her first set of seeds in some soil. They were going to do experiments with successional sowing, some started early in the greenhouse, some later outside straight into the raised beds. She was making the most of her new tools as she was chatting to some of the kids, a great big beam on her face as they answered just as animatedly.
It was this Rosy that he had got to know over the last few weeks and it was this one that he had been strongly attracted to. He didn’t think he had ever used the phrase ‘strongly attracted to’ before, not even in his head. He could feel his lip quirk even more. She would be perfect girlfriend material – damn, she’d be perfect wife and mother material. Watching her with these children, as he had been all day, was testament to that, if it weren’t for that whole Jekyll and Hyde personality thing she had going on.
He could understand Rosy if she was a little insecure, anxious about relationships, scared of intimacy. All that sort of thing would make sense; it was fairly normal and he’d had years of training with Angelina. But this complete split personality was of concern. It seemed to indicate something running a little deeper.
Today was a perfect example: she had properly scowled at him when he arrived, her best and deepest Rosy scowl. The one that always seemed to have her eyes scrunched up and her lips pursed into the sweetest little moue (at least he thought that was what it was called) that he had ever seen. The knowledge that she did not want to be perceived as cute, or sweet, or endearing in any way when she was in this mood, made it kind of all the cuter. Even Sid had asked what he had done to upset the schoolteacher. He had had to shrug and say he really didn’t know.
And he really didn’t. And this was the trouble; her outburst on Valentine’s Day hadn’t been explained, and he didn’t feel he should push for one. He had to assume when she was ready she’d say, and if she never was, then that was something he could do nothing about.
Before the party she’d been so warm, friendly, open and downright bloody melty. As if she were as attracted to him as he was to her. That kiss – that kiss had been insane. And as far as he was concerned they should be following on from that, and spending this time doing smoochy early relationship types of things. Most of which should be taking place naked. Not scowling and spitting like a cornered cat, which had been her precise reaction when his sister had turned up.
He didn’t know which way to turn or what he was supposed to do or think. He quickly glanced at her again and caught her looking at him with deep thought, her head cocked to one side with her brows furrowed in puzzlement.
He felt himself grin broadly back at her. If he was inviting and friendly, ignoring her mood swings, then maybe she would come and ask him whatever it was she was thinking about. That would be the sensible thing to do. Would she smile back, an appeasement of sorts?
She blushed – ha! Victory! If she was blushing just because he was looking at her then he was in with a chance; she must still be attracted to him, otherwise her body wouldn’t react that way. It would make sense. Surely the fire they had had between them was not something anyone sane would walk away from. Maybe he had got that wrong; maybe the heat was so strong that anyone sane would run a mile. There would be time to question his sanity later.
As she looked back down at her planting, after flashing him the briefest of smiles back, he decided to grasp the nettle and be manly. He wouldn’t embarrass her in front of her pupils but he would go and offer an olive branch.
‘Hey.’
‘Hi.’
Great start, Matt, strong and manly. Now what was he supposed to say? He’d never had this kind of trouble before but his mouth felt really dry. Luckily, he was saved by a child. Which really didn’t make his teetering masculinity feel much better.
‘Hello, I think it’s pretty cool here. I like the feel of the earth. My younger sister was here this morning, she liked it too.’
‘Well, thank you, I think it’s pretty cool too. You look like you’ve got this planting down pat, what seeds did you get in the packet?’ All the children had a selection of easy-to-grow veg so they could grow a range of different things and compare the different types of vegetables with those of their friends had grown. He looked over the boy’s head at Rosy and smiled, trying to include her in the conversation.
‘Um, I got some of these carrots, which is great because I like carrots. They’re OK as far as vegetables go. Some beans, I’ve grown those before in Miss Winter’s class so I know that they’re easy, and I got some of these big ones, which are easy to plant, they’re courgettes, I don’t like those at all. But my mum does, I think. Miss says I need to push them a bit further into the mud because they’re bigger. Is that right?’
‘Yep, Miss sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.’ He managed to flash her another smile; this was returned. But it had an undertone he couldn’t quite decode. Never mind, a smile was a smile. ‘Which seeds did you get, Miss Winter?’
‘Oh, I got some squash seeds. They looked very similar to the courgette, didn’t they, James? We thought they might be from the same family.’ The boy nodded his head furiously. ‘And I’ve got some tomatoes, and some peas. I’ve done pretty well really, I’m looking forward to seeing how they grow, but more importantly than that, how they taste.’
‘You’re right, the squash and courgette are from the same family, both can grow to be massive. And I love cooking with produce from the garden. Are you a good cook, Miss Winter?’
He knew she was, and he felt a bit guilty saying it; it had fallen out of his mouth, almost as if his subconscious was asking her to remember that night. She fixed him with a very Rosy look, not a scowl and not a smile but an are-you-really-going-there look. He felt about eight. Then she perked up and turned back to the child.
‘Was there something else you wanted to ask Matt, James?’ Rosy may have had her concerned headteacher face on now, but there was definitely something else shooting through her mind. He could feel her mischief as if it were a tangible thing. She grinned up at Matt and he immediately felt as if he was caught in a trap.
‘Um… thank you?’ James clearly wasn’t entirely sure what it was he was meant to remember.
‘No, well yes, obviously thank you, but didn’t your sister have a message for him?’
‘Oh yeah!’ James’s face broke into a big grin. ‘I nearly forgot! She says can she have her hair grip back? She can swap it for another if you like, but it’s just that’s her favourite.’
‘Hair grip?’
‘Yeah, my sister’s, she said she gave it to you this morning, it’s that one there, in your hair, at the
front there, the butterfly.’
Matt suddenly understood why Rosy’s eyes had taken on that extra twinkle and what it was like to wish that the ground would open up.
And now she just stood smiling, with a triumphant gleam in her eye, almost a challenge as he raised his hand to his head and, sure enough, felt the prongy metal of a sparkly pink and silver hair slide. How had he forgotten about that? It must have been in for hours! What had he been thinking, putting it there in the first place? James’s sister had been a bit spooked by a worm so he had had to cheer her up, but to forget it was there… Arggh! So much for his dead manly approach.
He undid the clip and passed it to James.
‘Would you thank her for me? It was very kind of her to lend it to me.’
‘Yeah, rather you than me though,’ answered the boy, clearly more masculine than the thirty-five-year-old man standing in front of him.
‘I’m sure she’ll be happy knowing you loved it.’ Rosy’s mischief was all over her face. ‘It suited you.’
James giggled. Rosy continued, ‘And I’d like to thank you for today, it’s been a huge success. The children have loved it. You are so good with them.’
They both turned and walked away from the table now, as James went back to happily rummaging in his seed packets. Was she planning on saying something she didn’t want the pupils to hear? He felt his heart beating a little faster. Play it cool, Matt, play it cool.