‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He looked down at her feet. ‘I’m not up on the latest fashion, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t go out with only one shoe.’
The bloody shoe. ‘No. I broke the heel of the other one.’
John nodded as if he understood. Though he obviously didn’t. ‘And where is it now?’
Rory’s face grew hot. She felt stupid. ‘In the bush.’
‘I see.’ He didn’t pursue it any further, just opened the door to his van and waited for her to get in.
Rory closed her eyes and let her head rest on the back of the seat. ‘Thank you so much for this.’
‘No problem. So it didn’t go well tonight?’
‘Nope. We were supposed to be having a girls’ night out but then Susie got chatting to some guys.’
‘And you weren’t interested?’
Rory shook her head. ‘No. Not my type.’ Which was why, even if she did want to date someone, it would be pointless looking for them with Susie. She opened her eyes and looked sideways at John. It was strange looking at him from this angle. And this close. ‘Did you say she? A female friend?’
John rubbed his nose. ‘She’s a friend of a friend, really.’
Of course he had friends. And some of them were female. Nothing wrong with that. So why did Rory feel sick? Was she more drunk than she realised? Maybe she’d hit her head as well as her backside. This is John Prince. Your builder. Don’t make a fool of yourself. Stop staring at him.
‘Are you okay?’ John glanced at her.
‘Fine.’ Her voice was almost a squeak. She coughed. Pull yourself together. ‘Sorry. I’m fine. Just tired.’
‘I’ll bet you are. You’ve been working hard on that house. People don’t realise what tough work all that prep is. Stripping wallpaper, soft soaping the walls, pulling up carpets. It’s back-breaking.’
Rory let her head fall back again. ‘Would you believe me if I told you that fixing the house was the least complicated part of my life right now?’
John smiled. ‘Actually, I would. That’s what I like about my job. You know where you are with a brick wall and pile of cement.’
Rory waited for him to ask her what was complicated with the rest of her life. But he didn’t. Men were another species.
Within a few minutes, they were home. John jumped out from his side and came to open her door. Until she stepped out from the van, Rory had forgotten about the missing shoe. She put her bare foot straight into a puddle. This night got better and better. Tomorrow would be worse. Belle was going to kill her.
* * *
The next morning, Rory was awoken by her mobile pinging. Slowly, she peeled back her eyelids and raised her head from the pillow – but not slowly enough to prevent the banging headache that the daylight brought. Turning over in bed to reach her mobile, she yelped as she rolled onto her bruised bottom. With the pain came a visual memory which made her groan out loud. Had she really been sitting in a puddle with only one shoe when John had picked her up? How was she going to face him? Bugger.
The ping was a message from Susie. Guess who gave out her number last night? It was difficult to be pleased for her when all Rory wanted to do was crawl to the bathroom and lay her head against the cold tiles. It was obviously one of the men from the bar who’d been given the number, and Rory wasn’t sure that was cause for celebration either. She’d reply later. Right now, she needed coffee. In a bucket.
Somehow, she managed to shuffle herself down to the kitchen – after checking Belle’s room to see if she was still asleep. When she’d checked on her last night, Belle had been tucked up in bed as promised. Maybe Rory was worrying about nothing. Belle was a sensible girl. It would take more than a blonde-haired boy to turn her head.
Rory had filled the kettle, and pressed its surprisingly loud switch, before realising that they had no milk in the fridge. There was no way she could get through the next hour without caffeine. She had a very strange feeling in her stomach which needed settling. It seemed to get worse every time she remembered John driving her home last night. Maybe it was embarrassment rather than nausea? Either way, she needed to haul herself to the corner shop and get some milk.
Five minutes later, in a hoodie she had borrowed from Belle in case she saw anyone from school, Rory opened the front door and nearly tripped over something sitting on the step.
It was Belle’s sparkly shoe. With the heel fixed.
The funny feeling was back. And this time, it wasn’t the chemical paint stripper.
Chapter Fourteen
Despite a weekend spent hooked up to the coffee machine, Rory didn’t feel normal again until she woke up on Monday morning. And then she was back in the classroom.
10-G had finished the first drafts of their letter-writing task. ‘Is there anyone who is willing to read theirs aloud? I know some of them are quite personal, so you don’t have to.’
‘I will!’ Harry’s hand shot up.
‘Okay…’ Rory was tentative. Harry wasn’t normally so keen to share his work. ‘Everyone else, please be silent whilst Harry is reading aloud. As soon as you’re ready, Harry.’
Harry’s gave a large comedy cough, ‘Ahem!’ and then he began. ‘Dear Kylie Jenner. I would really like to…’
‘Hold on!’ Rory interrupted. ‘Harry, do I need to check this first?’
Harry frowned. ‘I used full stops and capital letters like you told me to.’
Lacey rolled her eyes. ‘She means, is it dirty?’
‘Oh.’ Harry grinned. ‘It might be a little bit.’
‘Then maybe I should take a look first and pick out the bits that are fit for classroom sharing.’ Rory had dodged a bullet there. ‘Well done for volunteering, though. Anyone else?’
Charlie’s hand snaked into the air. ‘I could read mine if you like?
‘Is it rude?’ Lacey had appointed herself the classroom censor.
‘No,’ Charlie looked disgusted. ‘It’s to my mum.’
Everyone was quiet. Rory’s heart was beating hard in her chest. What was he going to say?
Charlie stood up and started speaking quietly, getting louder as his confidence built. ‘Dear Mum. Firstly, I am sorry for being a lot of trouble sometimes. I know that you are not well and it makes you worry when I am messing about. I don’t want to make you stressed but sometimes I don’t think. When I’m older, I’m sure I will be better.
‘It’s just that it’s not fair you are ill all the time. It makes me really angry. After all that stuff with Dad, you deserve to have an easy life and not be feeling ill and in pain. When I am older, I am going to get a really good job so that I can look after you. You really deserve it.
‘I am going to make you proud of me, Mum. Really proud. I am going to work hard at school and not get into trouble so you don’t need to worry about me at all. Mrs Wilson says I am a good writer, so hopefully that will help me to get a good job.
‘The thing is, I am scared. I am scared that you are not going to get better. I am scared that one day you will go into the hospital and not come out. What will I do then, Mum? It’s always been us – you and me. What do I do if I don’t have you? You’re the best mum I could ever have and I miss you when you’re not here. That’s all. And I’m sorry. Love, Charlie.’
He closed his exercise book and put his arms down on the desk, resting his head on them.
The whole time he had been speaking, no one had said a word. Rory wanted to say something to encourage him, but she didn’t trust her voice. After a few moments had passed, Lacey got up, plucked a packet of biscuits out of Harry’s hands as she passed and put them down on the desk in front of Charlie. Then she pulled a chair close to his, sat down and put a hand on his shoulder.
Rory opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Nathan walking into the room. Apparently, he no longer felt the need to knock first. The pupils shuffled to sit up straight in their chairs. With obvious practise, Lacey’s fingers crept around the biscuits and pulled them under the desk onto her l
ap.
Rory recovered herself quickly. ‘Mr Finch. How can we help you?’
He gave his customary menacing glance around the room and then addressed her. ‘Can I have a quick word outside?’
After following him into the corridor, Rory tried to keep a foot in the door, but Nathan motioned for her to close it. ‘This is not a conversation for pupils’ ears. I’ve been reviewing the data and we’re going to need to move some pupils around from next week. Charlie, for example. His data shows that he is not making the expected progress, so I’m thinking of pulling him out of English for some small group work with a learning support assistant, and…’
‘No.’ Charlie would not react well to this at all. ‘I think that would be a very bad idea. With respect, he’s had a lot of change in his life lately. If he thinks he’s being treated differently from everyone else, he’ll be upset. Anyway, I can get his grades back up, he’s just had a lot of absence.’
Nathan didn’t look convinced. ‘I’m sure you could give me a reason like that for every pupil in the class, but sometimes we have to make tough decisions in this job. Well, we’ll leave that discussion for now, perhaps. More importantly, I wanted to tell you that your latest homework grades need inputting as soon as possible so that we can make an informed decision about set movements. Once the information is on the system, perhaps you and I can meet to discuss individual pupils.’ He stopped and smiled at her. It wasn’t the same politician-on-Newsnight smile he gave in staff meetings. It was more natural. More reasonable. Almost human.
Rory mumbled her agreement and backed into the classroom.
‘He well fancies you, Miss.’ Lacey was back at her desk, holding the biscuits just out of Harry’s reach.
‘That is not appropriate. And no, he doesn’t.’
‘Then why is he always hanging around here?’
Rory didn’t have an answer for that, but Lacey had a point. Rory would have assumed his deputy head role would keep him much too busy to keep coming to her classroom just to ask her to enter her data. Why not just send her an email?
‘What did he want, then?’ Harry made a grab back for the biscuits, but Lacey was too fast.
Rory plucked the packet from Lacey’s hands and put them on her own desk. That was break time sorted. ‘Mr Finch had some important information to give me about our assessments for this half term.’ Everyone groaned, even Charlie. He seemed to have regained his composure; either Lacey or the biscuits had worked their magic. You don’t need to worry, Rory wanted to tell him. I’ll be here to help make sure you get exactly the grade you need to stay right where you are.
* * *
After the pupils went home, Rory had a big pile of homework marking to wade through. Before she started, she went to make a drink to accompany Harry’s confiscated biscuits. In the staffroom, she met Susie. A very bouncy Susie.
‘Ask me what I’m doing tonight.’
‘Marking?’
‘Nope.’
‘Planning lessons?’
Susie soon tired of waiting to make her announcement. ‘No! I have a date!’
Rory was too fed up to conjure up enthusiasm, but if Susie had met someone, maybe that meant she might leave her alone and stop making her go out to noisy bars. ‘That’s great. Anyone I know?’
‘That guy from the bar on Friday. I told you I gave him my number, and he called me this morning. We’re going out for dinner tonight.’
This was all rather sudden. ‘On a Monday? And why did he call you today? That’s a bit short notice.’ Rory was suspicious. Who had a first date on a Monday? And what made this man think that he could click his fingers and Susie would be available the same day? Although clearly, she was.
‘Don’t be so cynical. He said he’d been plucking up the courage to call me all weekend.’ Susie was beaming and Rory didn’t want to burst her bubble. He hadn’t looked like the type of man who was lacking in confidence. Lacking the ability to complete a crossword, maybe. But confidence? No.
‘Well, just be careful, Susie. You don’t know what he’s like other than what you saw in the pub.’
‘And if I don’t go on a date with him, I never will. Just think – he could be THE ONE!’
Rory smiled. Susie was almost as much of a romantic as Belle. An over-sexed romantic, admittedly. ‘And I don’t think you should go back to his place or invite him to yours until you know a bit more about him.’
Susie feigned shock. ‘And break the third-date rule? Never!’
Penny joined them in the kitchen. ‘Is there any milk anywhere? I need a cup of tea.’
‘Bad day?’ Rory opened the fridge and passed Penny someone’s milk whilst Susie found her mug. ‘Me too. I had a visit from Finch. He wants to move Charlie out of my class.’
‘No way,’ Susie shook her head. ‘That boy needs stability, and he likes you.’
‘Apparently, the data says otherwise.’ Rory bent her arms and made a robotic movement.
‘Doesn’t surprise me at all,’ Penny stuck out her bottom lip. ‘You’re lucky you only get brief visits. He pops in to my room unannounced about three times a week, and I can’t get him to leave. He looks at the kids’ books and then stands at the back of the classroom with folded arms like a bouncer at a nightclub.’
Susie put a tea bag in Penny’s mug and filled it with hot water. ‘That’s just not right. Is he still using the C-word?’
Rory nearly gagged on her coffee before she realised that Susie meant Nathan’s buzzword: consistency.
Penny nodded and took the mug of tea from Susie. ‘Yep. “You should have a ten-minute starter activity, Miss Phillips. They need to respond in green pen, Miss Phillips. You must rotate your seating plan every four weeks, Miss Phillips. Consistency. Consistency. Consistency.”’ She sighed. ‘It just doesn’t work like that for me.’
‘We need to do something about this.’ Rory wasn’t about to let him treat Penny badly. ‘Who does he think he is, coming in here and unsettling everyone? I’m going to see Derek.’
‘I don’t think he can do very much,’ Penny shook her head, mournfully. ‘I told you, the governors are in awe of the Fantastic Finch. They believe he’s going to save us all from the Big Bad School Inspectors. I’ve chatted with Derek and he thinks we just need to go with it for now.’
‘That’s ridiculous. Nathan Finch has only been here five minutes. We can’t sit back and let him get away with this.’ Rory couldn’t understand why he was singling Penny out in this way. He was nagging Rory about data too, but he wasn’t taking up residence in her classroom. She pulled on her suit jacket. ‘I’m going to see Derek right now.’
Penny fiddled with the locket around her neck. ‘Be gentle with him. He’s under a lot of pressure, too.’ That woman was too nice for her own good.
However, when Rory arrived at Derek’s office, his secretary told her apologetically that he was already in a meeting with Nathan. She offered to make Rory an appointment for later in the week, and Rory had no choice but to accept it.
What she wouldn’t accept was Charlie moving out of her class. Time to get creative with that data.
Chapter Fifteen
Rory had been with kids in detention at lunchtime and was starving when she got in, so she made herself a quick bowl of porridge. Belle had gone straight to Sheila’s after school and Rory would join her there when John left. She’d only mentioned the possibility of some shelves on the wall in the sitting room and here he was, with a couple of options. Apparently, he’d ‘found’ them in his workshop.
‘How does this look?’
It took Rory a moment to pull her eyes away from his biceps and onto the shelf he was holding up. ‘Uh, a bit too high.’
He brought it down. ‘This?’
Rory swallowed a mouthful of porridge. ‘Too low.’
He moved it slightly higher. ‘Now?’
‘Yes, just right.’
John made a small mark on the wall in pencil and Rory twitched. They were her beautiful new smooth walls he
was writing on.
John stuck the pencil behind his ear. ‘Of course, you’re going to want to paint the walls first. Have you decided on a colour?’
She hadn’t. She’d got as far as buying a range of tester pots but hadn’t tried them on the perfect walls. ‘Some possible ones are over there.’ She nodded with her head.
John was a man of action. He opened the first pot and daubed it on the wall. Rory flinched. He turned to her. ‘What about this beige one?’
‘It’s not beige.’ Rory stood and put the porridge bowl onto the coffee table. ‘It’s mushroom.’ She scrutinised it closely. ‘And it’s too dark.’
‘Okay, then.’ He popped the lid off another one. ‘How about this?’
‘Too light.’
John shook his head. ‘I’m out of my territory on this one. Colour schemes are not my thing.’ He sat down – Rory didn’t like to tell him he was now sitting in her chair – and screwed up his eyes to look at the paint splashes. ‘Nope. All look the same to me.’
‘Well, they are not. I’ll get my mum to help me. She’s good at that sort of thing. Actually,’ she looked at her watch, ‘I need to get going.’
* * *
Between the two of them, Sheila and Belle had cooked up quite a feast. ‘You two are amazing.’ Rory sat at a table laden with dishes of steaming vegetables. ‘I want to know why all these skills skipped a generation.’
‘You were never interested in learning to cook.’ Sheila passed her the mustard. ‘You’d much rather be down the shed with your dad. He’d have been proud of you, you know. Doing that house up. I think you’re bonkers, but your dad would have been right behind you all the way.’
Rory could feel her eyes sting. Fifteen years didn’t diminish the loss.
‘What would Grandad have made of me, Gran?’ Belle had asked this question many times over the years. She just liked to hear Sheila’s answer. And Sheila liked to tell it.
Happily Never After_A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy Page 9