desks had no right to tell him when he could cut the sodding hedges’, and what she thought about the country pong in the air following the liberal slurry spraying over the weekend.
It had taken all of Lucy’s self-control to stay in her seat, and to resist putting a peg on her nose. She was not a country girl; she didn’t like mess, unpleasant smells, or any kind of large livestock in the immediate vicinity. She really had never ever considered when hedges were cut (but maybe the ‘buggers’ had the bird’s welfare at heart?) and she really did wonder what she was letting herself in for. But now that she’d got over the initial shock of being cast back to her childhood, and been able to rationalise that it wasn’t the same after all, she’d been able to admit to herself that the village was really the most gorgeous place. Ideal for a week’s chilling out kind of holiday, but what working here would be like could be a different matter altogether.
Except it was simple. She was saving her house, her future. She had to concentrate on that. This was a short term solution, for a few weeks cover. It would be good for her, help her lay some ghosts to rest, and then she was sure something more suitable would turn up. All would be well. She’d be back on track.
‘Oh no, what a shame.’ She dredged a weak smile up, thinking herself lucky that she’d only had to cope with worms, and tried to remember which one Daisy was.
‘That lass is just like her dad.’ Jim chuckled. ‘I remember when he brought his ferret in to school, took it out in the middle of the 11 plus exam. Teacher was as calm as you like, whisked it away and stuck it in a cardboard box. Shame of it was that the bugger had eaten his way out by the time we’d finished, whole school had to join in the search.’
Quoting health and safety rules probably wasn’t the right response. ‘Well children will be children.’ She crossed her fingers under the desk, hoping that if she got this job neither frog nor ferret would find its way into her classroom.
Luckily the head teacher shuffled the papers on his desk and coughed, to regain control of the meeting. ‘They certainly will. Well I’m sure I speak for everybody when I say we’d be delighted if you could start as soon as possible, Miss Jacobs, or may we call you Lucy?’ He was totally unlike any of the head teachers she’d come across in the city: older, kinder, owner of a bow-tie, a very well-worn tweed jacket with actual elbow patches the likes of which she had only ever seen on TV before, and he hadn’t mentioned account balancing or issued a single rule about the use of blu-tac or staple guns. And she was pretty sure that the only type of metal-detector would be the handheld type for use on the school field, in search of ancient coins rather than knives and knuckle dusters. ‘Your references are excellent, and I really feel you could bring new vitality to our little school whilst maintaining a positive and kind outlook. Now we mentioned to the agency the first day of next term, after the Spring break. Would that suit? Does that give you time? Monday is a teacher training day, so we quite understand if you can’t start until Tuesday.’
Relief flooded through Lucy, who hadn’t realised quite how tense she’d been. It would mean she’d only been jobless for a half-term, and so far she’d been able to juggle her finances without eating too deeply into the redundancy money.
‘The first day of term sounds excellent, Monday is fine, and please do call me Lucy. I’ll have to find somewhere to stay though.’ She frowned, that bit did concern her. From what she’d seen it was a fairly small village and she hadn’t spotted a single ‘Room for Rent’ or even a ‘To Let’ sign. ‘I need to look for a small hotel,’ she cringed inwardly as she said the words, ‘or see if there are any rooms to let.’ She really did need somewhere impossibly cheap or she’d be struggling to pay her mortgage and buy food as well. Bye bye fruit smoothies and hello boil in the pot noodles.
‘Ahh yes, you live well out of our area don’t you? We’re honoured you chose our school Lucy, it’s not many teachers will uproot themselves, and don’t worry about finding a place to stay. I’m sure we can help, Jim?’
‘I know just the place.’
She looked at the governor in surprise. ‘You do?’
‘I do. Come on, you gather your stuff up love,’ relieved of his governor’s role Jim relaxed visibly and his careful diction was replaced with a gruff rumble, ‘and I’ll take you to meet my sister Annie.’
‘Oh,’ the head held his hand up, ‘do introduce Lucy to Charlie Davenport if you see him, her first challenge can be persuading that young man to come in and chat to the children. He’s been surprisingly adept at avoiding me,’ he winked at her, ‘you, my dear, can be our secret weapon.’
***
Annie was as round and cuddly as Jim was tall and stringy, had a mass of greying curls held back by two clips adorned with big red flowers, and was wearing a flowery t-shirt that seemed to be fighting a losing battle to keep her bosom under control. She was sitting behind the counter in the village post-office-cum-general-store, filling in a Sudoku puzzle which appeared to have more crossing-outs than numbers.
‘Well now isn’t this a nice surprise. I was just thinking there’d been a mass evacuation and nobody had told me.’ She gave Jim a hug and smiled at Lucy.
‘Annie, this is Miss Jacobs, Lucy. She’s filling in for little Becky and,’ Jim paused theatrically, ‘looking for somewhere to stay.’
‘Oh my goodness,’ Annie clapped her hands together and beamed as though she’d just found out she’d picked the winning numbers in the lottery, ‘now isn’t that a stroke of luck? Chocolate éclair or egg custard, love?’ She pointed at the display of cakes. ‘There’ll be a new lot in tomorrow so these need eating up. Sit down, sit down. I’ll make us a nice cup of tea and we can have a chat, been run off my feet I have.’
Jim rolled his eyes and gestured to Lucy to sit down on one of the stools behind the counter. ‘Annie is off to the Caribbean, not that I understand why.’
‘Well you wouldn’t, would you Jim? He’s a real home bird is my brother, about as adventurous as a goldfish in a bowl aren’t you love?’ She passed Lucy a mug of tea, and put her own on the counter so that she could concentrate on her cake which was oozing cream faster than she could scoop it up. ‘Well love,’ she patted Lucy’s knee with her free hand, ‘me and my husband have always wanted to go travelling, and we promised ourselves that once the kids finished university we’d be off. So we are.’ She smiled, a broad beam of a smile. ‘I’ve been looking for somebody to look after the house and not had any luck up until now, and all the tickets are booked and everything. It’s my last day behind this counter, then we’ve a few days of packing and Bob’s your uncle.’
At least, Lucy thought, as she tackled her egg custard, she wasn’t expected to speak.
‘We’re planning a year away, although it could be longer if I get my way, how long will you be here, duck?’
‘Oh I’m sorry. I’m only planning on the half term, it’s only a temporary position.’ Lucy tried not to spit out pastry crumbs. ‘In fact,’ she wasn’t quite sure what to say with Jim the governor listening in, ‘I do love my own home and I’m hoping a local job comes up soon.’
There was a bit of a splutter from Jim’s direction.
‘But Langtry Meadows is wonderful,’ she added hastily.
‘I reckon you won’t want to leave once you get to know the kids.’ Lucy watched transfixed as half the cake disappeared into Jim’s mouth, and was swallowed in an instant. ‘They’re a grand bunch, and the village isn’t bad either.’ He looked pointedly at his sister. ‘Even if some people do have some strange notions. So, that’s settled then, you’ll move into our Annie’s house and look after things?’
Things? That seemed a strange way of putting it.
‘Well if that’s okay, I mean I suppose you do really want somebody longer term? And er, how much is the rent, it’s just…’
‘Oh no that sounds splendid, we won’t be charging much rent love because it really