It got worse when he rolled out his agenda for the day. Training? On the first day back? First day of term was for sorting out class lists and books and trying to remember which kids you could trust to sit at the back and which ones you needed right under your nose. As soon as the meeting was over, Rory grabbed her things and made a run for her classroom before DB could catch her and introduce her to Mr Finch. Susie hung behind, clearly hoping for the opposite. She was insatiable.
Pushing open the door to her classroom with her elbow, whilst trying to balance her mug and the pile of papers she had excavated from her pigeon hole, Rory didn't notice Charlie Lewis until she was inside. It was surprising how small a fourteen-year-old boy could make himself, sitting in the back corner so that he couldn't be seen from the corridor. When he saw Rory, he jumped up.
‘Miss, Miss. I know I'm not supposed to be in the building yet, but I couldn't find my tie this morning and Brownie is going to kill me if he sees me without it again. Do you have one I could borrow?’ He took a breath and held his hands together in prayer. ‘Please?’
Rory dropped her papers onto her desk. ‘It’s Mr Brown to you. However, I'm sure I can find you a tie in my infinite drawer of resources. I wouldn't want your death on my conscience at 8.30 in the morning.’ She rummaged around and pulled one out. ‘How’s your mum?’
‘Thanks, Miss! You’re a life saver!’ Charlie struggled to loop the tie around a clean but crumpled shirt. He seemed to have grown upwards in the holidays without filling out and looked like a string bean with spiky blonde hair. ‘Mum’s having a flare. She can’t go to work and she’s really tired all the time. She was sleeping when I left and I didn't want to wake her up to ask about the tie.’
Rory perched on her desk and resisted the urge to help him with the knot. ‘I understand. It must be pretty tough for you both at the moment. You know that my offer of help is open if you need anything, don't you? Are you both eating? Is your mum able to cook at the moment?’
‘Bits and pieces. Mum can’t have much because her Crohn’s is so bad. I made dinner for myself last night. Egg and beans on toast.’ He practically puffed up his chest.
‘Sounds delicious. The Food Tech department would be proud. Now go and run around the playground, or whatever it is you boys do before school starts. I'll catch up with you in our lesson. We're starting with creative writing and I’m looking forward to seeing what my favourite writer is going to produce.’ When she had asked for Charlie’s class on her timetable again this year, there’d been no argument from the head of the English department. Especially now they were starting their final exam texts: with them being the lowest-scoring class in the year group, they would need English lessons five times a week, meaning Rory would see them more than almost any other class she taught. They were an acquired taste, though.
Charlie grinned and made for the door. ‘Okay. I’ll see you later. Thanks again for the tie, Miss.’
Rory sat down at her desk and turned on the computer. Something about Charlie made her want to scoop him up and take him home. What would happen if his mum was admitted to hospital again? Or worse. A fourteen-year-old boy needed his mum. Even a thirty-eight-year-old woman needed her mum. Not that she’d ever admit it to Sheila.
On the screen was the usual deluge of emails about PE kits lost from last year and updates on Fire Procedures and Child Protection. Halfway down the list was one from Belle: a picture of Colin Firth with the message: To cheer you up! Rory smiled. Her daughter knew her well, but it might take more than a picture of Mark Darcy in a tuxedo to stop the sinking feeling that she’d bitten off more than she could chew this time.
* * *
During staff training sessions, the teachers were worse than the kids.
Susie flopped down next to Rory. Penny, the final member of their trio, passed her a cup of coffee; she could always be relied upon to look after them both. Tall and gangly, with dark straight hair, the gentle Religious Education teacher had been adopted by Rory and Susie after she’d discovered her fiancé of three years carrying on with the dog groomer. He’d got custody of the Lhasa Apso. ‘What is this session about?’
‘Marking, ironically.’ Rory sipped the drink Penny had made for her. ‘Although how I’m supposed to make inroads into the Everest of summer homework assignments currently on my desk when I’m sitting here listening to someone talk about it, is anyone’s guess.’ The electrician had been coming tonight with a quote on the rewire. If the house blew up, she was blaming Nathan Finch.
Susie wriggled in her seat. ‘These chairs are so uncomfortable; I’m spilling out the sides. I wish the caretaker would put them a little further apart. Don’t get me wrong, I like you. But I don’t want to rub my hip against yours.’
‘Aren’t we supposed to be starting now?’ Penny’s question was answered when Nathan Finch sauntered up to the front of the hall. The room went quiet almost immediately.
‘Good afternoon, colleagues.’ He paused and smiled at them all. ‘We’ve updated the school marking policy and wanted to share with you some good practise we have seen in other schools, which we are planning on implementing here.’ Without turning around, he clicked the remote in his hand and his PowerPoint presentation came alive behind him.
‘How did he do that?’ breathed Penny, as if he’d just sawn a woman in half. She was only a few years older than Rory and Susie, but she’d started teaching in the age of overhead projectors.
‘I use PowerPoint, too,’ Rory shrugged.
‘But he didn’t even look.’ Penny clamped her mouth shut and sat up straight as Mr Finch looked directly at her. Rory, on the other hand, slumped lower in her chair. Was this how the kids felt?
‘Firstly, we know that marking is a very time-consuming part of your job. You’ll be pleased to know that we don’t want you to mark more…’
‘Well, that’s not physically possible,’ mumbled Susie.
‘…we just want you to mark smarter.’
‘I knew there would be a catch,’ Rory whispered back.
The PowerPoint changed again. Penny looked at him like he’d performed another miracle. Rory shook her head. The slide read: Use of traffic light colours in effective feedback. Rory groaned inside and let her head fall back onto the seat. This was going to be a long hour.
Susie sent her a note scribbled onto the back of an agenda: Back to yours after for wine?
It would have to be wine. After rescheduling the electrician, Rory wouldn’t dare to boil a kettle.
Chapter Three
When you buy something new, particularly something that costs thousands and thousands of pounds, you feel the need to justify the money you’ve spent. Therefore, it was possible that Rory had romanticised the house somewhat when she’d described it to Susie and Penny. Judging by the look on Susie’s face when they walked in through the door, she had completely misrepresented it.
Penny was kinder. ‘It’s a great size, Rory.’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Susie. ‘But where’s the butler with the bolts through his neck?’
‘Very funny.’ Rory opened the door to the sitting room. ‘You should have seen it two weeks ago. It’s taken thirty gallons of Cif and Flash to get it looking like this.’
The sitting room and kitchen were clean, at least. Rory had taken the furniture from Scott’s house – apparently Megan wanted ‘all new’ – so there was a sofa and a couple of chairs for them to sit on. Before they got comfortable, Rory took them on a quick tour of the house, ending up in the kitchen.
‘Well, I think it’s got a lot of character.’ Penny patted Rory on the arm. ‘If anyone can do this, you can.’
‘I think you’re bonkers.’ Susie took two red wine bottles from a bag and stood them on the kitchen counter. ‘But I agree with Pen. It will look fabulous once the work is done. When do your builders start?’
Rory ducked behind the kitchen counter and hunted through unpacked boxes for wine glasses. ‘I haven’t got a builder.’
‘What?’ Susie and
Penny asked in unison.
The glasses weren’t in that box. Rory pushed it aside for another. ‘I’m going to do it myself.’
When Susie started to laugh, Rory stood up. ‘What?’
‘Even for you, Little Miss Independent, that has got to be a joke.’
Penny frowned and pulled her cardigan closed. ‘She’s right, Rory. You need to get professional help with this.’
Rory stuck her chin out. ‘I’ve got an electrician and I’ll get a plumber. But I can do the rest of it. I’ll do some classes. Read some books.’
Susie nodded exaggeratedly, her blonde curls bouncing. ‘Sure, sure. Because you do have a lot of spare time on your hands. It’s not like you spend all your evenings marking and planning lessons or anything.’
Susie had a fair point. But doing up the house would drag Rory away from her desk. Teaching prep could take over your life if you let it.
‘I just need to organise my time. Anyway, with Nathan Finch’s new “mark smart” scheme, I’m going to free up hours of my day.’ She rolled her eyes.
Susie groaned. ‘Don’t remind me. My head hurts. What happened to easing us back into work gently? Did you even understand half of it?’
Penny used her fingers to help her remember the order: ‘The pupils write in blue pen. We mark in red pen. We highlight something good in yellow pen and something they need to improve in pink pen. They then go back and make changes in green pen. Have I got it right?’
Rory shook her head. ‘You lost me at the word pen. I’m lucky if my lot have got a pencil they’ve lifted from the pot in IKEA.’
‘What about the “RAG rating”?’ asked Susie. ‘Aren’t we supposed to tell them to use red, amber and green to show how well they have understood the lesson?’
‘Oh Susie, you’re so last term.’ Rory was back under the kitchen unit. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you’ve gone back to last academic year and are using two stars for something good and a wish for something they can improve.’
‘I liked two stars and a wish.’ Penny sounded mournful. ‘It was so hopeful.’
‘Speaking of hopeful, what do you think of the new deputy?’ Susie started to unscrew the red wine they’d picked up on the way here. ‘He’s pretty good-looking and clearly not married.’
Rory finally found the wine glasses she’d been looking for and pushed them towards Susie so that she could pour the wine. ‘I’m not keen, to be honest.’
Susie sighed. ‘You’re not keen on anyone, Rory. For us normal women, he looks quite a catch. They’re probably paying him a fair whack, too.’
‘I’m with Rory, I’m afraid.’ Penny held up a hand to stop Susie from filling her glass to the top. ‘He looked quite arrogant to me.’
Susie threw her arms into the air. ‘What am I going to do with you two? We don’t have forever, you know. I have very little left of my thirties and, post-forty, women have more chance of being abducted by aliens than getting married.’
‘Is that true?’ Penny’s eyes were wide. She was already past forty.
‘Of course it’s not bloody true, but it might as well be. In the last year, I’ve had three dates. Three.’ Susie held three fingers up for emphasis. ‘One spoke in sentences of three words or less, one was into dogging and the third one reminded me of the last puppy in the pet shop.’ She looked at them intently. ‘Mr Right is not going to fall into our laps, ladies. We need to work at it.’
Rory raised an eyebrow at Penny and nodded her head towards Susie, before leading the way to the sitting room.
‘You can mock me,’ continued Susie as she followed, ‘but you know I am right. We work in a job where over seventy-five per cent of the staff are female.’ She looked at Penny. ‘And that one is a fact. If we want to meet someone before we are pensioned off, we have to put down the red pen for a night and go out and find them.’ She sat down on the sofa and took a large gulp of her wine.
Rory fiddled with the radio for some background music. She should introduce Susie to her mother. The two of them had a lot in common. But maybe Susie had a point – maybe a night away from dust and rubber gloves would do her good. ‘Okay,’ she conceded. ‘Where are you going to take us?’
Susie put down her glass. ‘How about speed dating?’
‘No.’ There was no way Rory was doing that.
‘I don’t think so, thank you.’ Penny dropped her eyes and sipped at her wine.
‘Why not? It’ll be fun.’ Susie held out her hands as if she was amazed at their lack of interest. Rory loved her for her eternal enthusiasm but love only stretched so far.
‘It will be ridiculous.’
‘And too fast. I want to get to know someone properly this time. No philanderers.’ Penny shuddered.
The front door banged and Belle appeared at the entrance to the sitting room. Sometimes her beauty made Rory gasp. Over this summer, she had lost the last of her girlish softness. Her face had become stronger, more womanly, and her body had followed. Every time Rory looked at her, Belle seemed to have changed again.
‘I’m home, Mum. I did my homework at Fiona’s.’ Belle waved at Susie and Penny. ‘I had dinner there too, so I’m just going to chill in my room for a bit.’ She blew Rory a kiss and disappeared again.
‘She is such a lovely girl,’ Penny sighed, after Belle closed the door.
Rory nodded. ‘She is. I’m very lucky.’
Susie picked up her wine glass and took another large swig. She nodded in the direction of the sitting room door. ‘She’ll have a boyfriend before you do.’
‘Belle?’ Rory smiled. ‘No, she’s not interested in boys yet. Other than as friends, obviously. She’s got some good friends.’
‘Hello? She’s sixteen, woman. Of course she’s interested in boys. And isn’t her sixth form college co-ed?’
‘She’s only just turned sixteen.’ Rory wasn’t naïve; of course Belle was growing up – as her mother liked to keep reminding her – but Belle had always been young for her age. Maybe it was the single-sex grammar school she’d attended, maybe it was the fairy tale princess obsession, but she had just never shown much interest in real-life boys.
Susie was right, though. Starting A-levels meant that Belle would be sharing classes with boys for the first time. Come to think of it, she and Fiona had been very giggly about it on their induction day. Maybe Rory needed to prepare herself for some changes. Boy-shaped ones.
But Rory had had enough change in the last few weeks. ‘Anyway, leaving Belle out of this, who says I want a boyfriend? I’ve just bought a house – I don’t want to have to share it with anyone other than Belle.’
Susie looked around, and Rory followed her eyes. She didn’t need to see the expression on Susie’s face to know what her thoughts were on the place. It was shabby. Needed work. If you were feeling mean, you might describe it as run-down. Rory had hired a steam stripper and she and Belle had spent the last two weeks stripping wallpaper and cleaning the place up. Despite joking about the steam giving them a free sauna, it had been bloody hard work and they had barely scratched the surface. Literally.
‘That’s probably a good thing: you’d be hard pressed persuading anyone to move in here, anyway. I was thinking you could find a boyfriend who lived somewhere habitable and then move in with him? You know, cut your losses.’
Susie was joking, but the thought had crossed Rory’s mind more than once in the last couple of weeks. Not the boyfriend bit, the cutting her losses. But she had never given up on anything in her life, and Belle, bless her, hadn’t complained once. No, they were going to do this.
‘You will be jealous when you see what a palace this place is going to turn into.’ Maybe if she repeated it enough times she might begin to believe it herself.
Susie topped up their drinks, although she was the only one who’d finished. ‘A palace? I didn’t think you believed in fairy tales?’
Rory picked up her glass. ‘I believe in the ones that I would write. The ones where the princess saves herself.’
/> At that moment, the lights and music turned off. There was a sudden gloom and silence.
‘What happened?’ squeaked Penny. ‘Did you do that on purpose?’
If Rory wasn’t terrified about the electrics, she would have laughed. ‘No, Pen, much as I am enjoying the dramatic effect, I did not do it.’
‘Mum!’ Belle shouted down the stairs. ‘My computer just switched off.’
‘It’s all right, love,’ Rory called. ‘It’s just the electrics. Don’t touch anything for a minute.’
Thankfully, she’d had the foresight to buy a couple of torches when they’d moved in, and it wasn’t getting dark yet anyway. Gingerly, she opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs and scrutinised the electricity box.
‘Bloody hell,’ Susie was peering in behind her. ‘I’m no electrician but that does not look good.’ She patted Rory on the shoulder. ‘Good luck with saving yourself from that, Princess.’
Chapter Four
‘Promise me you will NEVER touch the electrics again.’
Rory should not have told her mother about the blackout. Where ordinary people might remark on the inconvenience, in Sheila’s head, Rory was going to end up spread-eagled in the hallway with frazzled hair and smoke coming from her fingertips.
‘Mum, you do realise I am thirty-eight years old, right?’
‘Yes, and sometimes I don’t think you have the sense you were born with.’ Sheila shook her head in disgust. ‘Electrics!’
John Lewis’s soft furnishings department was predictably empty on a Thursday evening. Sheila had asked Rory to go shopping with her for some cushions for her new flat, but Rory suspected an ulterior motive. For a start, her mum already had enough scatter cushions to furnish a stately home. ‘What kind of cushions are you looking for, Mum?’
Happily Never After_A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy Page 2