‘Mmm.’
‘A nice steady girlfriend. And rich too. I heard she was a banker.’
They turned onto the high street, which was almost deserted, its shops dark and the houses forbidding, in the soft March rain. ‘I don’t think they’re actually boyfriend and girlfriend—’ Tess began timidly, but Jan interrupted her.
‘Diana! Hellooo!’ she called loudly, as a figure in front of them in a flared corduroy skirt turned around cautiously. ‘Diana! It’s me! You remember Diana, don’t you?’
‘Is that Tess?’ said Diana Sayers, walking towards them. ‘Hello, Tess.’ From under a short, severe fringe she nodded briefly at Tess, who smiled back, unable to remember where or how she knew Diana. ‘I’m taking your course, just off to have a look around and complete the registration forms, all that.’
‘Oh! How nice,’ said Tess, her mind racing. Vicar? Baker? Candlestick maker? ‘That’s—’
‘Bit of a busman’s holiday for you, isn’t it, Diana?’ Jan said, tapping Diana on the arm again, as if motioning her to move off like a carthorse. ‘I’d have thought you’d have had enough of schools for a while!’
Of course. Diana Sayers! Mrs Sayers, the Langford primary school secretary. Adam’s godmother. Philippa’s best friend, she hadn’t seen her for years, how could she have forgotten her?
‘I thought it was probably about time I actually learned something now I’m retired,’ Diana said gruffly. ‘Sick of children. Don’t care if I never see another one.’
‘Aaah. That’s nice,’ murmured Jan, not really listening, and Tess bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
‘Cross here,’ Diana commanded, raising her left arm high in the air, and the little crocodile obediently crossed the road.
‘Did you go to the meeting last week at the pub?’ Jan said. ‘Andrea’s furious with me for not going, but I had to wait in and pick Jeremy up from the station. Some stupid golfing day, bloody idiot. She said it went well,’ she added, inconsequentially. ‘Ron’s wonderful at organizing that sort of thing.’
‘Oh, I went,’ Diana said, nodding. ‘Only briefly though. Andrea’s started the petition, she’s going to take it round the town. I thought we should probably give copies to people like your Jeremy, Jan, get him to pin it up in the office? I mean, Thornham’s only a couple of miles away from here, they’ll be affected if this bloody superstore goes ahead too.’
‘I must say,’ said Jan, ignoring her. ‘That Family—I’ve broken with them. Simply broken with the Mortmains, and Carolyn Tey can waggle over to me with her big sad cow eyes all she wants and say, “Oh, Jan, I know Mrs Mortmain’s ever so grateful to you for your support,” when that damned woman wants the PCC to approve her horrible fence so she doesn’t have to look at any ordinary people. But they’re going to have to learn a lesson! We won’t take it any more! Ooh—’ she said, breaking off. ‘I do like your shoes, Diana. Where did you get them? I’ve been looking for something like that. Something a bit smart, but with a plimsoll lining.’ She emphasized the ‘l’s in plimsoll, so it sounded like pllllllimmmsollllll. ‘Can you walk far in them?’
‘Good grief, Jan,’ said Diana crisply. ‘Do concentrate! We need to stand shoulder to shoulder on this.’ She turned sharply towards them and said coldly, ‘Until we do—’
‘Goodness!’ Jan called. Tess looked up; there in front of them were the stone pillars at the start of the drive. ‘We’re here—and look who’s over there! Talk of the devil! It’s Carolyn and Jacquetta! We said we’d meet for coffee, but I wasn’t sure if they’d make it too! Tess, you remember Carolyn! I don’t know if you’d have met Jacquetta…’
Of course Tess vaguely thought she might, once, have met Carolyn, but she knew better by now than to admit that she actually had no idea who she was. She felt as if she were in a parallel universe, that this Langford, full of scary ladies in Marks and Spencer Footgloves, had been bobbing outside her window, waiting to pounce on her for the last few days while she watched TV or made food or walked to the pub, sandwiched between Adam and Francesca.
Carolyn was a fair, pretty woman with rather faded looks and an anxious expression. ‘Hello, dear,’ she said, nervously, as if she expected Tess to bite her. ‘This is very nice, isn’t it. You know—’
‘Jacquetta Meluish,’ said her companion, standing tall and pushing her wavy dark gold long hair out of the way, slowly and deliberately.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Tess. ‘Don’t you work in that shop on the high street? The one with all the nice cake stands and notelets in it?’
‘I own Knick-Knacks,’ Jacquetta said, slightly tightly. ‘Have done for ten years now.’ She pronounced it yiaahs. ‘I should tell you now, Tess, isn’t it?—that I received a First in Greats, Some Years Ago. I feel it best to be honest now, from the start, about my Unfair Advantage. Aha-ha-ha.’ She gave what Tess assumed she felt was a self-deprecating laugh.
Oh, God, Tess thought. She remembered with a flash of fondness Year Ten at Fair View, none of whom had ever given her this much grief. Yes, one of them had been found carrying a knife, but Tess had believed Carl when he said it was for cutting the twine on parcels. ‘I’ll go on ahead,’ she called politely, as the knot of women behind her waved and carried on chatting, while she set off up the short drive to the house, the words, ‘Really? This is your birthday present? Oh, he is wonderful,’ ‘I know, Richard said she looked quite mad,’ and ‘Well, of course, she complained to the diocese about him,’ echoing behind her, and the dark, forbidding house with its turrets stabbing the cloudy sky ahead. Francesca, the sofa and the TV seemed a long way away.
A couple of hours later, as Tess’s eye scanned over the list of her twenty new pupils, her heart sank. There were far more names on it than she’d expected to recognize; somehow the idea that she might actually be teaching people she knew hadn’t occurred to her, much less that they’d be the parents of people she grew up with, or people her mother had served sherry to. Beth Kennett, the head of the college, a sensible woman in her late thirties, had explained it to her with a smile, handing her a cup of tea in the stately but draughty staffroom.
‘We always get an influx of Langford locals this time of year, I don’t know why. Perhaps they’ve been given it for Christmas. Derek always said it was most likely their New Year’s resolution to do something different, plus they all want the trip to Rome,’ she said, her eyes twinkling. ‘But Andrea was saying they’ve all been rather excited about you, you know. You grew up here, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Tess. She was still a little shaken from her walk in. ‘God, I had no idea. It’s been years—’
‘Well,’ said Beth kindly, ‘you just have to let them know who’s boss.’
Tess thought of Jan and Jacquetta. ‘That’s easier said than done.’
‘Come on,’ said Beth, a little briskly. She tucked her hair behind her ear, and jabbed a small finger onto the list of names. ‘There’s plenty of other people in the class too, you know! You’ve come from one of the toughest schools in South London. Wasn’t there a hostage situation there last year? This should be a walk in the park!’
A walk in the park. Tess cleared her throat, now, and looked up, as a watery shaft of sun shone through the huge leaded window of the room. Her notes, which she had written and rewritten, and her lesson plan, lay in front of her, on the old wooden lectern. She loved this moment, when she had them in the palm of her hand, when she knew they were to learn all these wonderful things, hear about these amazing civilizations, that would transform the way they saw their own world. She began:
‘Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.’
The class looked at her as she spoke; they had ceased