by Hannah Tovey
‘He’s just … ’
‘I know.’
Of course she knew.
We put on our outfits and stood facing each other.
‘How do I look?’ Mia asked. ‘Your candour is paramount.’
‘You look like a million bucks,’ I said. ‘And me?’
‘I’m glad you didn’t go with the dress; you don’t have the shoulders for it.’
‘Mia!’
‘Don’t be stroppy, you know Mags would say the same.’
‘You’re a terrible person.’
‘I’m only joking. You look like a fucking rock star.’
As is custom when I’m at one of Mia’s parties, I spent most of the evening avoiding conversation with the older guests. This time around it was Sidney, a middle-aged philosopher who used to be a friend of Noah’s dead aunt. Sidney’s preferred topic of conversation was his cats – both of whom live in a drawer in his office at Goldsmiths – but after Mia told him I was a teacher trainee, he cornered me by the piano and started bombarding me with questions about the course: How was I nurturing the children’s personal growth? Were they exposed to the right literature? Had I introduced philosophy?
‘The thing is, Sidney,’ I said, ‘they’re four. I don’t think they’re ready for Nietzsche.’
‘Nietzsche? Don’t feed them that nonsense. Inspire them with Plato, darling.’
‘Plato? They prefer Peppa.’
‘Who is Peppa?’
‘It’s a talking pig, Sidney.’
‘Urgh, how vulgar.’
Every time he spoke, a crumb from his moustache fell into his mouth. He licked his lips and I felt my stomach turn.
‘Barney, please don’t do coke on the cabinet,’ Mia said, speeding into the living room. ‘We’ve only just had it polished.’
The dance floor parted as Mia charged towards Barney and stood right in his face. He looked like a rabbit caught in headlights and began whimpering as she ordered him to take his gear to another room or go home.
She walked up to me and Sidney and asked if I might be excused. Sidney tipped his hat and walked off.
‘Sorry I left you,’ she said. ‘There were people having sex in the downstairs toilet.’
‘Already?’
‘Everyone’s on heat.’
She grabbed the bottle of champagne and topped up our glasses, and we leant against the piano, eyeballing the room.
Dan walked over, looking bored.
‘Why are all your friends so old?’ he asked.
‘They’re mainly Noah’s friends,’ Mia said. ‘You and Ivy are the only ones from my lot here.’
‘Where is everyone?’ I asked.
‘They’ll be here later. I’m expecting another sixty or so.’
‘Sixty? Where will they all fit.’
‘I don’t know, in the bath?’
This was something that often happens at Mia’s. She’ll wake up the next day and there’ll be a dozen people passed out in there. It takes until around the 5th of January for the last of the guests to leave.
‘Until then, it’s just us losers,’ she said.
‘And Davey,’ I said, gesturing over to him.
‘Don’t talk to him, he’s done too much MDMA and he’s lost one side of his face.’
‘Who’s Davey?’ Dan asked.
‘You know, male model, super dull chat, fab bone structure.’
‘Dammit, I was hoping he’d be my midnight kiss.’
‘Not if he can’t move his mouth.’
We scanned the room.
‘What about him?’ Dan asked Mia.
‘Ricky? No, he has a girlfriend.’
‘What about Matt? With the hair,’ I said.
Matt heard his name and waved at us. We all made gestures about how gorgeous his hair was looking. It was so luxuriant and luminous and reached past his shoulders. He did a bow before going back to his conversation.
‘You know he’s moving to Manchester? He’s helping his sister launch her new salon up there.’
Dan gasped. ‘She can’t leave London. Where am I going to get my hair done?’
‘Tell me about it. I’ve not paid full price in years.’
Matt walked past us to get to the kitchen and we all air-kissed.
‘Fucking selfish,’ Dan said, as soon as he was out of earshot. ‘To be fair, I still owe him for consulting on that Haggerston restaurant launch.’
‘That was three months ago, Dan.’
‘I know … Maybe it’s best he does leave London.’
After saving Noah from Sidney, we all went up to the bathroom. Mia and I got into the bath as Noah made himself comfortable on the window ledge and Dan got out a bag of cocaine.
‘What’s everyone’s New Year’s resolutions,’ Dan asked. ‘Ivy, you go first.’
‘To not fuck up the next six weeks at my new placement. And to make sure Scott never leaves me.’
‘Definitely,’ Dan said.
‘Yes, good one,’ Mia agreed.
‘You three are ridiculous,’ Noah said. ‘He’s not going to leave you, Ivy, and there’s no way you can fuck this up.’
‘Tomorrow’s a new year, and who knows what could happen.’
‘Are you still wearing sexy underwear?’ Dan asked.
‘No, I prioritised paying my rent. You need money to be sexy all the time.’
‘He’s met the whole family, hasn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
‘And he’s been in your flat? In that mess.’
‘It’s not a mess! Look, we balance each other out: he can’t cook; I hate cleaning. It’s the perfect partnership.’
Everyone looked at me.
‘What?’ I said.
‘I think this bodes really well, Ives,’ Mia said, after she’d inhaled a line.
‘Yeah … this is the most stable and mature I’ve ever seen you,’ Dan said.
Noah came over and put his arm around me.
‘What they’re trying to say is, you are brilliant, and beautiful, and we are very happy for you.’
‘Thank you, Noah,’ I said, kissing him on the cheek.
‘Hang on,’ Dan said, ‘this is the first time we’ve all been together since your engagement.’
‘To Mia and Noah,’ I said, raising a glass.
‘To me!’ Mia squealed, laying down in the bath and putting her legs up high in the air.
Dan and Noah jumped in the bath and we all tipped our drinks onto each other as we hugged. Dan kissed Noah on the lips and told him he was almost as attractive as Ryan Reynolds, if only he had more hair; Mia told me I was the greatest woman ever to walk the face of the earth, and Noah pointed out that we all needed to get a life.
After sitting in Noah’s dead aunt’s bath for an hour, we went back down to the party, where I spotted Scott in the kitchen, chatting to Davey. He ran over to me and picked me up by the waist.
‘Look at you!’ he said.
‘I know, I splashed out.’
He hugged me again, harder this time.
‘Scott, you’re crushing me,’ I said, pulling away. ‘How were drinks?’
‘Can we go somewhere, just the two of us?’
‘We can later. Come outside, everyone’s dying to see you.’
Scott followed me out to the garden, where Mia, Dan and Noah were sitting around the fire. The garden looked like a mini Glastonbury; there were brightly coloured lanterns everywhere, filled with flickering tealights, fairy lights hanging from the trees and a tepee erected at the back.
I grabbed a beer from the wheelbarrow and passed it to Scott, and we sat down on the blanket with the others.
More people started to arrive – much more than Mia’s estimated sixty. It was a collection of London’s most outlandish residents. I got cornered in the kitchen by a couple from university, ex-socialists who used to spend every waking minute protesting or lobbying. They’d since ‘reformed’ and now resided in Maida Vale with their two precious children – one of whom goes to private schoo
l with Princess Charlotte. They’d just been to see Cardi B in concert – in the VIP section, of course – and kept telling me how important it was to have a positive black female artist who wasn’t afraid to talk politics. I stood there with a vacant expression on my face wondering how on earth we got on to this, when Scott came up behind me. I introduced him as my boyfriend, a phrase I relished saying.
‘Can we find somewhere to talk?’ he said.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Everything’s fine,’ he said, kissing me.
We walked back out into the garden and sat down in the hammock.
‘Christ,’ I said, as Scott wrapped a blanket over me, ‘it’s freezing tonight.’
He tried to smile but his eyes told a different story.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘My boss wanted to speak to me about something tonight – about a new job.’
‘Did you get a promotion?’
‘Yes.’
‘I knew it!’ I said, cwtching into him. ‘You’re amazing, Scott. Congratulations.’
He didn’t move.
‘Why aren’t you happy?’ I asked, registering his face.
‘It’s in LA.’
‘LA? As in Los Angeles?’
‘Yes.’
‘Fuck.’
‘I’m sorry to tell you like this. I wanted to leave it until tomorrow, but I can’t sit here with all your friends and not say anything.’
‘Wow. LA? Wow.’
‘They want me to run the North America region.’
‘Fuck. Wow. Congratulations.’
‘It’s a lot to take in.’
My heart was racing. I got up from the hammock and looked into the house to see if I could see Mia.
Scott was about to say something else when Dan ran over to tell us that the countdown was starting. He grabbed both our hands and dragged us into the living room, where everyone was huddled together, their glasses full and their eyes glued to the countdown on BBC.
We stood at the back of the room. I looked to Scott, unable to say anything.
‘Five, four, three, two, one … HAPPY NEW YEAR!’
Scott told me that he loved me.
There were tears running down my face as I told him I loved him back.
39
I started my second placement in January. It was important for me to compare different approaches to teaching, so that I had a better understanding of the sort of teacher I wanted to become. It was also important for me to find a boyfriend who didn’t harbour a desire to move halfway across the world, to a land of sun-kissed, plastic-chested women who lived off 500 calories a day. But I guess I missed the mark on that one.
They put me in a school in Holloway, North London. The building was a towering grey slab; cold and soulless, like it could have been a workhouse in a Charles Dickens novel. The infamous prison was down the road and I wondered whether they’d swapped the names on the door.
Mrs Bell, whose classroom I’d be in for the next six weeks, greeted me at the entrance. I’d first met her before Christmas on an induction day. She had a short weave bowl cut, and was wearing a long multicoloured, abstract print dress with leopardprint trainers, which were spotted with dots of paint. She carried all her weight on her stomach and walked with a bit of a waddle. Her voice was gentle, but she was strong and statuesque and commanded the utmost respect. I was immediately taken with her.
‘There’s been an outbreak of lice,’ she said. ‘We think we know who it’s from, but the mother’s denying it. Don’t be alarmed if the atmosphere at pick-up is hostile.’
‘What’s it usually like?’
‘Hostile.’
I smiled.
‘That wasn’t a joke,’ she said. ‘But don’t worry, all of this is excellent training. What do you think you do as a teacher, Ivy, except navigate small nits and self-affected parents?’
She beckoned for me to come inside, and I followed her through the front door.
The school was in desperate need of brightening up. The atmosphere was heavy, and dark, like the walls were caving in on you. It replicated the atmosphere I currently felt in my head, so I felt at home, at least.
Mrs Bell’s classroom, however, was a different matter. It was an explosion of colour, with art products everywhere – boxes of pom poms, paint dispensers, soft dough, felt pens and paint brushes. Nothing seemed to be in the right place, but I got the impression that it was exactly how the room was supposed to look. I noticed some pink crystals on her desk and asked her what they were for.
‘They’re rose quartz. They carry a feminine energy,’ she said. ‘I’m trying to create an environment of compassion and peace, instead of chaos and rebellion.’
I think she was joking that time.
I was introduced to the headmaster, Mr Reynolds, who had a sort of superficial charm to him that you frequently find in serial killers, then to a few of the other teaching staff. Most were dismissive, bored of seeing yet another trainee come through their doors, but a couple were kind, asking me how I’d found my first term, and about job applications. Their thoughtful hospitality aside, I was not a particularly willing conversationalist. I tried so hard to be present and enthusiastic but all I could think about was Scott. And LA. And Scott in LA. I kept telling myself to get it together, but Dilys was back, and she had grown in confidence.
The first child I met was Layla, who came into the room with a mouthful of crayons.
Mrs Bell ran to take them off her and introduced us.
‘Miss Edwards will be with us for a few weeks, isn’t that great?’ she said to Layla.
‘This is Bunny,’ she said, whilst rubbing a very un-clean-looking Bunny on her crotch. ‘I washed her with my tuppence.’
I couldn’t help but laugh. Layla began to laugh, too.
‘Why don’t we wash our hands and sit down nicely?’ I said.
She bounced off, Bunny in hand.
‘They’ve discovered their genitals,’ Mrs Bell said. ‘Don’t stand too close.’
Carter came in next. I said hello to him and his response was, ‘I don’t want to speak to anyone today.’
You and me both, Carter.
Before long, we had a full class. Mrs Bell had warned me that the children had developed a keen interest in marriage – why some people were married, and some weren’t. As if on autocue, Kobe, a boy with deep-brown eyes and hair as soft as a pillow, asked me if I was married.
‘Can I marry you, Miss Edwards?’ Kobe said.
‘I’d love to marry you, Kobe. As long as you don’t move to LA.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a place very far away that pales in comparison to London.’
A girl asked me what I’d done for Christmas.
‘Why don’t you tell me what you did?’ I said. ‘Did you play any fun games with your family?’
‘I dressed up as a princess and ate chocolate and saw Rudolph in the park.’
‘That sounds terrific,’ I said.
Finally, the sort of meaningless chat I was hoping for.
By lunch Kobe had said my name approximately seven hundred times. I was desperate for some personal space, which would be fine if we were living in a warmer climate – say West Coast America – because the children could play outside, and I could be left alone to stare into the empty void in contemplation. But the weather was apocalyptic, so I gave them some coloured origami paper, and we got started on our fish.
The children were content, admiring all their creases and sharing stories of their favourite presents from Santa. But then there was Kobe, who wanted to know whether I’d had too much to drink at New Year’s, just like his mummy and daddy. I said no but what I really meant to say was yes, I drank everything I could get my hands on, then sobbed on my boyfriend into the early hours of the morning.
I caught Layla’s eye. Her smile was so broad that I could see the insides of her little mouth, all pink gums and milk teeth.
‘Daddy and I do origami on Satur
days after football and we have crumpets and he does my hair in a plait and then we go to the duck pond and then we go to the pub and he has a pint and I have orange juice.’
She finally stopped for breath. Her face shone, and my heart felt full again.
‘Your daddy sounds so cool,’ I said. ‘I wish my daddy lived in London so we could do fun things like that together.’
I looked to the clock: five hours till home time. Five hours till I had to leave the solace of the classroom. Five hours till I had to face Scott.
‘Thank you for today,’ I said to Mrs Bell, as we tidied the worksheets away from the last lesson. ‘You’ve created such a wonderful space for the children, they clearly adore you.’
‘When you come to this school, you expect the children to behave a certain way. But they thrive off compassion and kindness, and I encourage that through creativity. Creativity is food for the soul.’
I wanted to hug her and tell her that she was my spirit animal, but I didn’t, because I was so close to the edge that one touch would have sent me spiralling. It was a new year, and one of my resolutions was to avoid public tears. I wasn’t prepared to fail four days in.
‘Your goal for the next six weeks is to learn about different teaching styles,’ she said. ‘It’s important for you to figure out how you want to move forward.’
‘Bring it on,’ I said, with a surprising amount of confidence.
‘Excellent. I love it when fresh blood comes in.’
I got home that night to find Scott standing by the entrance to my building, reading a book.
‘What are you reading?’ I asked, as I approached him.
‘A history of the feminist revolution in Central America.’
He got up and kissed me. It had been three days since I last saw him and all I’d wanted to do in that time was kiss him and tell him not to leave.
‘You’ve been avoiding me,’ he said.
‘You know I’m not allowed to use my phone during the day.’
‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you, too.’
‘How was your first day?’
‘I was a little distracted.’
He sighed. ‘We need to talk about LA, Ivy.’
‘I know.’
‘I’ll attempt to make dinner,’ he said. ‘I bought fresh pasta from the market, and some tomato sauce from that Italian shop you like down the road.’