by M K Farrar
She turned back to her computer, planning on focusing on work. There were several invoices that needed to be paid to the school’s maintenance firm, and health and safety forms needed to be filled in for a visit from an outside puppet company that were coming in to perform to the reception class.
Her phone buzzed again, and she sighed and quickly leaned into her bag beside her chair to check the screen. She was sure it would be a text from Violet demanding to know why she hadn’t picked up yet, but instead the little icon at the top of the screen informed her she had a new email in her personal account.
Her stomach lurched, and she sucked in a breath. Glancing up to make sure no one was watching, she opened her inbox. The email was from the housing people at the university.
Fluttery with adrenaline, she opened it.
Thank you for your enquiry. We do currently have openings for new host families. A home check would need to be completed to make sure the property is suitable. Please check the details of what’s expected. Let us know when you’re available.
She quickly wrote back. Any day after four p.m. would be fine, and I’m home all weekend. The sooner she could make this happen, the sooner she could stop worrying about money all the time.
Just as she hit send, the phone buzzed again, and Violet’s name appeared on the screen.
“Shit.”
Anna looked up from where she was sitting behind her desk on the other side of the room. “Problems?”
“Oh, just my sister. She’s been calling me all afternoon.”
“Shouldn’t you call her back, then?”
She exhaled a long, troubled sigh. “Honestly, I’d rather not.”
Anna pulled a face. “Problems again?”
“There always are with her.”
Kristen hadn’t told Anna the half of it. Violet seemed incapable of making a single sensible, adult decision. She was only two years younger than Kristen’s thirty-one years but acted like she was ten years younger. While Kristen had been desperate to get married and have a family of her own, Violet avoided relationships. Or at least relationships that meant anything. Kristen wished she could try to have the upper hand on that side of things, but the minute she tried to bring up Violet’s crazy way of picking up boyfriends for a matter of weeks, deciding they were definitely the one, even announcing she was engaged and getting married, only to break up with them again in a shower of dramatics and heartbreak, never got her anywhere. Violet would just say something along the lines of ‘well, I’m hardly going to take relationship advice from someone who ended up divorced before she was even thirty’ or ‘you’re hardly one to talk—where’s your adoring man lately?’ And then Kristen wouldn’t have any way of getting back on the high horse.
The truth was that Violet was right in many ways. She couldn’t give relationship advice. When she’d met Stephen, she’d been desperate to be in a committed relationship, and he’d seemed like the right guy for her, at first. He’d wined and dined her, they’d stayed up all night talking, and he’d told her all about how he couldn’t wait to have kids and start a family. They’d been happy and in love, and because of that, she’d deliberately ignored his wandering eye and the appreciative glances he’d give to the waitresses when they were out, or the group of young women on the streets. She’d fallen pregnant within the first year of them being together—a case of the pill not working after she’d needed antibiotics for a dental infection—and of course he’d insisted they get married. She’d been delighted and had felt like her life was heading on the right track, but as the wedding got closer, and she only got bigger, her entire body swelling with the pregnancy, she knew the relationship wasn’t quite right. The further into the pregnancy she got, the more she noticed that wandering eye, but she convinced herself it was understandable. She was massive, her stomach swollen and distended, her breasts covered in thick blue veins, and she suddenly had a double chin that had appeared from nowhere. On top of that, she suffered almost constantly with indigestion, and, frankly, the amount of wind she produced was humiliating, so she didn’t blame him in the slightest for not being interested in having sex with her.
On her wedding day, she felt fat and hideous, and not in the slightest bit beautiful. Violet had shown up with some guy she was dating at the time, and the two of them drank whiskey from a hipflask, and the hotel where they’d had their small reception had threatened to throw the two of them out for bringing alcohol onto the premises. Stephen had spent most of the reception drinking and hanging out with his buddies, so on their wedding night, feeling exhausted and miserable, she went to bed alone. He’d stumbled in several hours later, managing to kick off his shoes, before collapsing into bed beside her, and he had been snoring within seconds.
Deep down, she’d known then that this wasn’t going to work, but still she’d tried to convince herself it would be different after the baby arrived. Of course, it wasn’t. While she adored Ollie more than anything in the world, the tension between her and Stephen only increased. She hated her new post-baby body, and Stephen didn’t seem overly keen on it either. He started staying out later and later, and, one night, eventually didn’t come home at all. He admitted that he’d met someone else, but convinced her it was over, and that he’d change. It had been hard, but she’d been terrified of having to do this alone. Things got better for a year or so, and then started to slide again. Eventually, he admitted this was never going to work, and that he was only there for Ollie, and he moved out. Within a few months, he met someone else—the same person he was married to now. The worst part in Kristen’s mind was that she’d convinced herself it was because he couldn’t handle the responsibilities of being a dad, and that was why he’d left, but the woman he’d met already had a child, and then she’d fallen pregnant with his baby, too. It hadn’t been about the pregnancy or the child, it had simply been that he had never really loved her.
But at least she’d had Ollie out of the whole fiasco, and really, that was the only thing that mattered.
With a sigh, Kristen swiped green to answer. Quickly, she rose to her feet, and hurried out of the office, towards the staff toilets so she wouldn’t be seen on her phone outside of break time.
“What’s wrong, Violet?” she said, pressing the phone to her ear as she pushed into the toilet stall. “I’m at work.”
She could barely hear what her sister was saying through the sniffs and sobs.
“Jesus, Violet. What’s the matter? Take a breath and talk to me.”
“I hate it!” Her sister’s voice came down the line. “I just don’t know how I’m going to be able to face the world every day!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I had my hair cut. It’s really short. It looks awful.”
Anger boiled up inside her. “You’re kidding me, right? You’ve been calling me all afternoon, knowing I’m at work, because you don’t like a haircut?”
“You don’t understand. It makes me look like a bloke.”
She could hear the slurring in Violet’s words. “Have you been drinking?”
“Only a little. Just to take the edge off.”
Kristen gave a growl of disgust and swiped the screen, ending the call. What the hell was the matter with her sister? Okay, they hadn’t had the best of upbringings, but Kristen still felt she at least managed to claw her way through life. Why did every little thing send Violet into dramatics?
She left the bathroom, shaking her head, still caught up in the ridiculousness of her sister’s life, only to collide straight into a broad, male body in a suit.
She looked up, her phone still clutched in her hand. “Oh, Andrew. Excuse me.”
The headteacher caught sight of the phone. “I hope you weren’t just on a personal call, Kristen? You know the rules about that.”
“Sorry. It was an emergency. My sister... err... lost her house keys. She can’t get in and I have a spare set.”
“That isn’t really your problem, is it? And it certainly isn’t the school�
��s problem. It shouldn’t really be dealt with on school time.”
“No, of course not.” Her cheeks burned. She wanted to retaliate, but instead she shut her mouth and swallowed her words. She needed this job far more than they needed her.
He ducked his head in a nod. “I expect to see you back at your desk then.”
She forced a smile. “Right away.”
Why did Violet always manage to get her in trouble? Things hadn’t been any different when they’d been younger either and trying to deal with their mother. They hadn’t thought she was any different to other mothers until they’d hit their preteens, and the shutters had been brought down. It seemed the sight of Kristen’s budding breasts had thrown their mother’s already protective nature into overdrive, and she’d desperately wanted to prevent the two girls from growing up.
Kristen had done everything she could to try to shelter Violet from their mother’s behaviour, but she hadn’t realised she’d still be taking care of her little sister when they were both grown.
Just for once, she wished she had someone she could turn to, instead of everyone always relying on her.
Chapter Three
Kristen gritted her teeth and strained against the big wooden desk. It was far heavier than it looked, and for once, she wished she still had Stephen around.
“Mummy,” came a little voice from the doorway. “What are you doing?”
She lifted the desk again and it shifted a few inches. “Moving your desk into the spare room.” She panted with the effort.
His lower lip pouted. “But that’s my desk.”
Dropping the item of furniture, she turned back to him. “I know, sweetie, but remember how we talked about having someone come and stay here for a little while, to help me out with some stuff?” Ollie nodded, and she continued. “Well, there are certain things they’ll need to have in their room, and a desk is one of them. They’ll be studying, so it’s really important they have one.”
He wasn’t convinced. “But I go to school, too. I’m learning. I need a desk.”
She crouched to bring herself down to his level and took his hand. “Hey, how about, once our new student moves in, I buy you a whole new desk?”
It pained her to say it, knowing that first week’s money could go on far more important things. Ollie was only five, after all. It wasn’t as though he really needed one. He could just as easily sit at the dining room table, or even on the floor, but the woman from the university housing was due over in less than an hour, and she needed to get this done. Not only that, she didn’t want Ollie having a meltdown while the woman was here. She needed him to be happy and enthusiastic, and not sulking or crying because he thought he was going to lose his stuff to a stranger staying in his home.
His eyes brightened at the suggestion. “A new one?”
She thought of the money she’d save if she managed to pick on up from the charity shop. “Well, new to us anyway.”
Ollie pursed his lips, his nose wrinkling as he considered her offer, and then his face relaxed in a smile. “Okay, then. I think I’d like that.”
The knot of tension inside her relaxed a fraction. “Good boy. Now go and play for a bit while Mummy finishes doing this.”
He turned and thundered back down the stairs, giving a roar at some imaginary creature he was fighting as he jumped down the bottom two.
“And don’t jump down the stairs,” she shouted after him, even though she knew he wouldn’t pay the slightest bit of attention.
Kristen turned back to the desk. It was surprisingly heavy, but she needed to get it moved, even if it meant putting her back out doing it. Time was whizzing by, and she didn’t want to be unprepared for the inspection.
Heaving, and shoving, and swearing under her breath so Ollie didn’t hear her, she gradually edged her way out of the room with the desk and dragged it across the hallway into the spare room. The room was only large enough for a single bed, but there was enough space for the desk and a small chest of drawers, and it had a built-in wardrobe for the student’s clothes. She wished they had a second bathroom in the house—it would be weird sharing a bathroom with a stranger—but they would have to make do. A private bathroom wasn’t a prerequisite of being a host family, so that was good enough for her.
She straightened and pushed her hair from her face, the light brown strands clinging to her sweaty forehead. She took one final look around the room. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t bad either. In an ideal world, she’d have liked to have bought new bedding, but there was no way she could afford to do that right now. And anyway, in an ideal world, she wouldn’t be needing to bring a stranger into her home to help pay the gas bill, so there was that.
The doorbell jingled through the house.
“She’s here, Mummy!” Ollie yelled from downstairs.
By the time she joined him, he was already hopping up and down at the front door in excitement. They didn’t get many visitors.
Kristen took a breath, plastered on a smile, and opened the door.
A woman in her fifties with a brightly coloured scarf, long beads draped around her neck, and knee-high boots stood on her doorstep. Kind blue eyes were framed with a pair of turquoise glasses.
“You must be Mrs. Scott,” she said. “I’m Nancy McFadden from the University Housing.”
Kristen stepped back, pulling Ollie against the front of her legs to keep him out of the way. “Yes, hello. We’re expecting you. Please, come in.”
“Thank you.” The woman stepped into the house with them, casting her gaze around. Kristen tried not to feel as though both she and her home were being judged, even though that was the exact reason for Nancy McFadden’s visit.
Ollie stayed close, pressing himself up against his mother’s legs, even though he’d been so excited about having a visitor before she’d arrived.
Nancy smiled down at Ollie. “Are you excited about having a student come and stay?”
Ollie shrugged shyly and clung to Kristen’s leg. “I guess so.”
Nancy smiled at his response.
“Why don’t you go and play with your Lego in the other room?” Kristen encouraged him. “Let the grownups talk.”
“We’ll be talking about some really boring stuff,” Nancy said.
Ollie nodded and unravelled his arms from Kristen’s legs to vanish into the kitchen.
Nancy turned her attention to Kristen. “So, Mrs. Scott—”
“Oh, it’s Kristen, please,” she corrected her. “And I’m not married. I mean, I was, once. But not anymore.” Her face burned at her admission. Why was it every time she acknowledged her divorce it was like admitting a failure, and she was instantly expecting to be judged.
But Nancy leaned in and lowered her voice, so Ollie didn’t hear. “Oh, neither am I. Think we’re best rid of them, personally.”
She surprised a laugh out of Kristen. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Good. So, let’s move on.” Nancy glanced down at the paperwork. “I understand you’re after a mature student rather than one of our younger ones.”
“Yes, that’s right. I think I’d feel more comfortable with an adult. I don’t have much experience of teenagers, apart from when I was one myself, and with Ollie in the house, I’m not sure I could take on that kind of responsibility.”
“Of course. I completely understand. Well, your location is great for the university. I noticed a bus stop just down the road, and the buses seem to run regularly.”
“Yes, they do,” Kristen agreed. “Oh, and I have a cat. Is that okay? I did put it down on the application form.”
“That’s fine. We’ll make sure you’re not matched with someone who has allergies or is scared of them, that’s all.”
She exhaled a sigh of relief. She already felt guilty having Lemmy. When she was struggling to put food on the table, that couple of quid a week in cat food made a difference. She didn’t have pet insurance, simply because she couldn’t afford the extra ten pounds a month, and lived in f
ear of something happening to him where she’d end up with a massive bill she wouldn’t be able to pay. She’d wondered if it would be better to give him over to someone else, but just the thought broke her heart, and she knew Ollie would be devastated, too. Their little family had already been torn apart, and losing Lemmy as well felt like one step too far. People said, ‘he’s only a cat’, but to her, he was another little person, just one that happened to have four paws and whiskers. She’d have no more given him up than she would Ollie, but if she hadn’t been able to become a host family because of him, it would have just been another thing to feel guilty about.
“Right, then,” Nancy said, “I’ll just take a look at the room.”
“Of course.”
Kristen led her up the stairs to the bedroom. Ollie had noticed the movement and abandoned his Lego in the other room to scamper up after them. Kristen prayed he wasn’t going to say anything about the desk. She didn’t want it to look like she was depriving her son to get the student.
Nancy stepped in and looked around. “This all looks great. Can I see the rest of the house?”
“Of course.”
Kristen showed her the bathroom, and then back downstairs to the kitchen.
Nancy looked around and then turned back to her. “I can’t see any reason we can’t accept you as a host family. We will need to run DBS checks, though I’m assuming you don’t have some secret criminal past we should be aware of?”
Kristen laughed nervously and thought back to her mother. “No, not at all.”
“Good. Well, we’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks so much.”
Kristen showed Nancy out, and then closed the door behind her and let out a shaky sigh. She thought that had gone well, but she wasn’t someone who counted her chickens.
She just hoped she’d done enough.
Chapter Four
The week passed by as normal, and she didn’t hear anything from the student housing people. She tried not to think about it, knowing that obsessing whether she’d been accepted wouldn’t make any difference to the result.