a dapper eighty-year-old, whose tidy appearance belied the vagueness of his mind, came straight up to Louise and pecked her on the cheek.
‘Hello me darling,’ he said. ‘Let me take you on a spin around the room,’ and with that he took Louise into his arms, and led her in a waltz, lustily and tunelessly singing ‘Daisy Daisy, give me your answer do!’, while Louise spun round with him looking pink and flustered. She’d clearly forgotten they were there. Cat grinned. ‘Time to go, Ruby,’ she said, ‘I don’t think Granny needs us anymore.’ It wasn’t all bad. Mum was safe and warm and well cared for. Things could be a lot worse.
Marianne rushed into the staffroom, five minutes late for the staff meeting, conscious that her curly dark hair was rebelliously falling out of the clips which she’d shoved back into them, after Harry pulled them out just before she’d left for work. She was late because Daisy had smeared porridge down her top, necessitating a quick change. In fact she wasn’t the only member of staff to arrive after the official time of the meeting’s start, but the way Mrs Garratt, the new Head teacher of Hope Christmas Primary School, looked at her, made Marianne feel that she was a real lightweight.
Mrs Garratt had been brought in by the governors as ‘a new broom’, according to Diana Carew, after the previous incumbent had left under a slight cloud involving missing amounts of money that the bursar couldn’t account for, but she seemed keen to sweep everything else clean too.
Marianne’s mood didn’t get any better when, during the course of the meeting, she had to admit that she wouldn’t be able to help on the Year 4 residential trip to the Black Mountains, as it coincided with a week when Jean and David were away, so she had no childcare. Ali Strickland, who had taken over as Year 4 coordinator while Marianne had been on maternity leave, looked smug as she took over and explained to everyone where the trip was taking place, and what the schedule was. She was taking credit for a trip that Marianne had organised the previous year, before she went on maternity leave. She’d left it all ready for Ali just to pick up the pieces, but unfortunately the original date had fallen through, and without telling her, Ali had rebooked for a date Marianne had been unable to attend. Marianne could see from the slightly pursed look on Mrs Garratt’s face that her lack of commitment had been noted. Mrs Anderson might have had her hand in the till, but at least she’d understood about family life.
In a way, Marianne couldn’t blame Ali. Theirs was a small village school, and there were precious few opportunities for promotion. Marianne had just about managed to negotiate a part-time job share with Jane Sutherland, who’d had a baby the year before her, but Mrs Garratt had made it clear that the situation could be reviewed at any time. Her view was that part-time teachers were not the most effective way of managing staff maternity leave, and Marianne felt conscious that she was under the microscope, the previous five years’ worth of dedication she’d given to the school seeming to count for nothing. But, it was money, she was still hanging on by her fingertips, and for now, Marianne had to be content with that.
She became vaguely aware the meeting was winding up. Marianne was so tired, she had not exactly been dozing, but her mind had certainly been elsewhere, so it was with a certain amount of trepidation she heard Mrs Garratt saying, ‘So, Marianne, I understand it is normally your job to put on the local nativity. Can we count on you to help the community out again this Christmas?’
Biting back the retort that, if Mrs Garratt was really interested in the community, she would have known that Marianne had put on the nativity as usual only a month ago.
‘Er, to be honest, I haven’t given it much thought,’ said Marianne. ‘I’ve only just got over last year’s efforts.’
‘I understand,’ said Mrs Garratt, ‘and I appreciate it’s a long way off, but I was just thinking it would be an excellent opportunity for Ali to show us what she’s made of. So I thought that perhaps next year, we’ll hand it over to her.’
Marianne had in fact been thinking that putting on the nativity was a bit much now she had family commitments, but the idea that something she’d put her heart and soul into over the last few years could just be taken away from her like that was a further kick in the teeth.
Miserably, she went to her classroom, and started writing up the literacy topics for the day. Once upon a time she’d loved this job, now she was beginning to hate it. What’s more, every day she was here was a day away from the twins. She felt like she had the worst of all possible worlds.
Mel
FACEBOOK status Karen. Message me. Urgent!!!
Kaz: What’s up babe?
Mel: Andy. ONLY TOLD ME I’M FIT.
Kaz: WOW!!! What about Kelly R thox? :-S
Mel: Kelly who? She’s history.
Kaz: You’re sure?
Mel: Totes. He thinks I’m hawt!!
Kaz: And you are, babe!
Mel: Meet tomorrow for beef!
Kaz: Laters.
Mel: xxx
Teenage Kicks
Random thoughts of an Anonymous Teen
Saw the Boy today. It’s the first time since that whole Dad finding us in the cafe shit. He hasn’t been replying to my texts, so it was always going to be AWKWARD. Christ. He must think I’m such a loser. To have a dad like that …
So I try to play it cool. I say hi, and pretend I’ve come in to collect my wages. I sashay slowly up the aisle, hoping he’s looking at me. Instead I stack over my new platforms & look like a total douche. I get up feeling an idiot & I want to die.
But then he looks at me and my heart goes all funny and he says, ‘Hey babe, I know you like me, but you didn’t need to fall at my feet.’
Which isn’t true actually. I didn’t fall at his feet. I want to die even more, but then I realise he’s grinning at me, and so we have a coffee together and he says it’s ok that my dad shouted at us.
‘It’s cool,’ he said, ‘He’s your dad. If I had such a fit daughter I’d probably do the same.’
He thinks I’m fit. I can’t believe it. The Boy, who just happens to be the most amazing, gorgeous guy in the whole world, thinks I’m fit. I am going to ignore those rumours going round school that he’s been seen out with the Chav Queen. I’m sure she started them anyway, ever since Best Mate told the whole class how I snogged the Boy at her New Year’s Eve party. It’s me he likes. I know it now.
He’s asked me to meet him in town again. After school. I was sooo nervous. I made Best Mate come with me till we saw him. I could barely speak. Best Mate, said there’s another rumour about him and a girl who doesn’t even go to our school. ‘Be careful, babes,’ she said. I know she’s looking out for me, but I wish she’d shut up. I know the Boy isn’t interested in anyone else, cos he told me. Said not to listen to any silly rumours. I’m the only girl for him. Held my hand and said he loved me. I think I love him too . . . Does it always feel this exhilarating and mad, and miserable and mental? How do you KNOW for sure?
Marianne came home from work after another depressingly difficult day, feeling shattered and miserable. But her step lightened as she walked into the house and heard the babies gurgling in the kitchen.