Love at First Fight

by Mary Jayne Baker

  ‘Oh yeah, I bet he’d love to believe he put me off men for life, the raving egomaniac,’ Bridie said, curling her lip. ‘It’s not just Ben, thank you very much, Cal. It’s Ben plus every lad I’ve been out with since.’

  ‘Kind of harsh on our kind, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s not just you lot that are the problem.’ She pushed the jaffa cake packet away and propped her chin on the heels of her hands. ‘It’s me. I’m a tosspot magnet, you guys. The only decent lads I seem to meet are either spoken for or they just don’t fancy me.’

  ‘Or they share a set of bunk beds with their brother,’ Hattie said.

  ‘Yeah, and you know what? I’d still take that guy over Ben bloody Kemp and his ilk.’ Bridie hesitated, then reached for the jaffa cakes again. ‘Still, we’re at least free of the magnificent Ben’s company while he’s riding llamas up Machu Picchu or whatever it is,’ she mumbled through a mouthful of sponge and citrus. ‘It’s been a lovely, peaceful year without him around.’

  Hattie laughed. ‘I’m sure there must’ve been a collective sigh of disappointment from the female population of Messington on the day he announced he was leaving us.’

  ‘Huh. I’m pretty sure that was a sigh of relief.’

  ‘Well, ladies, sigh no more,’ Cal said, smiling. ‘Because you’ll never guess who’s just come home.’

  Two

  ‘And I want at least two sides of A4 on the death of hope in The Great Gatsby by next Tuesday, no excuses,’ Bridie called to her Year 12s as they filed out of the classroom for lunch.

  Josh Abercrombie pulled a face as he went by her.

  ‘Why does English have to be so depressing, miss?’

  Bridie shrugged as she swept her books and papers into the cavernous bag she used for lugging them around in. ‘That’s just the way it is, I’m afraid. Writers are a morbid bunch. Just count yourself lucky the exam board didn’t foist any Hemingway on you.’

  He squinted at her. ‘You all right, Ms Morgan? You look knackered.’

  ‘Mmm. I was up late… planning lessons. You know, teacher stuff. Go on, go get your dinner.’

  When the kids had disappeared off to the canteen, Bridie slung her bag over her shoulder and headed to the staffroom. There’d been a summons from Mr Duxbury, the head, asking all members of staff to congregate there before breaking for lunch. When she arrived, Hattie was already there with Meg and Ursula, the two other teachers they were friendly with.

  ‘Love, you look shattered,’ Ursula said as Bridie threw herself into a chair beside them.

  ‘Don’t you start,’ Bridie muttered. ‘I’ve had enough piss-taking off the kids.’

  ‘What’s up?’ Meg asked. ‘Late night?’

  ‘More like an early morning,’ Hattie said, grinning. ‘Our Ms Morgan’s a dirty, filthy stop-out, ladies. She crawled in on her hands and knees this morning after a fraternal threesome in a bunk bed.’

  ‘All right, keep your voice down,’ Bridie hissed. She cast a glance towards the door, where the remaining teachers and assistants of Messington Secondary School were filing in. ‘There was no threesome and no bunk bed sex, all right? Just a date that went bad.’

  Ursula raised an eyebrow. ‘Another one?’

  ‘Yes, Urs, another one. It’s me, isn’t it?’

  ‘Poor old Bride.’ Hattie stood up and rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘Those guys don’t know what they’re missing out on. Here, let me get you a coffee before you slip into a sleep-deprivation coma.’

  ‘Thanks, Hat,’ Bridie said, patting the hand on her shoulder. ‘The more caffeine I can get inside myself today, the better. Honestly, I’ve never been so tempted to pull a sickie as I was this morning.’

  ‘You really need to ditch this twenty dates thing, Bridie,’ Meg said when Hattie had gone to the kitchen area to make her a drink. ‘It’s been an unmitigated disaster from start to finish.’

  ‘I know it has, that’s the whole point. I’m trying to prove something to myself, aren’t I?’

  ‘What, exactly?’

  ‘That retiring from the world of men and dating will be no bad thing. The twenty dates challenge is supposed to be kill or cure for my love life.’ Bridie shrugged. ‘I’d say it’s working a treat.’

  ‘But they’ve all been awful.’

  ‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘Girls, I can honestly say that right now, I never want to go on another bloody date again. And if I’m ever even slightly tempted in future then all I need to do is remember the tedium of Alistair the tropical fish breeder, or think about the bloke who’d lied about his age and turned out to be at least sixty, or that sweaty pervert who kept trying to play footsie with my crotch, and I’ll be cured instantly. Best idea I ever had. I’ve saved myself a world of pain in the future.’ She yawned. ‘Although I could wish I didn’t have another one tonight. I’ll be in serious danger of falling asleep on him, especially if he’s as boring as they usually are.’

  ‘You must want to meet someone though, don’t you?’ Ursula asked. ‘Everyone does.’

  ‘No they don’t. Some lucky bastards just live happily single, doing exactly what they want every day, watching whatever they like on telly and never having to fight for the covers. And after my last date tomorrow, I’m looking forward to joining their ranks.’

  ‘You seriously don’t want to fall in love?’

  Bridie snorted. ‘Are you kidding me? What is love anyway but a combination of endorphins and self-delusion? The rose-tinted haze soon wears off, and it’s then you realise what sort of slobby, farting, football-obsessed, lager-guzzling meathead you’ve gone and lumbered yourself with.’

  ‘If that’s how you feel about it, why not just give up now?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Bridie said, sighing. ‘Perhaps I’ve been clinging on to a last sliver of hope that there might be someone out there for me. Not hearts and flowers; just a mate I can sit in my PJs with while we split a Domino’s and watch Cobra Kai. Someone I fancy enough to cuddle up to at night, with only minimal periods of feeling semi-homicidal towards each other. Let’s face it though: if I haven’t met him by now, he obviously doesn’t exist.’ She summoned a smile. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m fine on my own, and I’d rather be single than settle for some wanker just for the sake of a bit of company.’

  ‘You’re taking Number Twenty to Hattie’s fancy-dress party tomorrow, right?’ Meg said. ‘Maybe he’ll be the one if tonight’s doesn’t make the grade. Saving the best for last.’

  Bridie smiled to herself. ‘I very much doubt that. He looks as dull as death.’

  Meg laughed. ‘You seem very happy about it.’

  ‘I told you, I’m looking forward to being free of the whole business. Men only mean stress. I’ve not met a single one who was worth the bother of it all, in bed or out of it.’ Bridie glanced fondly at Hattie as she made her a coffee in the kitchenette. ‘Still, I’m glad Hat got a good one. I sometimes think Cal Kemp might be the only decent bloke in town – Nature’s way of compensating for his brother, I guess.’

  ‘I heard Ben was back from his year out.’

  Bridie pulled a face. ‘Yeah, more’s the pity. He’ll be there tomorrow night too, I suppose, letching over all the female guests.’

  ‘Suits me,’ Meg said, a dreamy look coming into her eyes. ‘Ben Kemp’s welcome to letch over me any time.’

  Bridie rolled her eyes. ‘Do you have to encourage him? He’s insufferable enough as it is.’

  ‘He’s also utterly gorgeous. Sorry, Bride, but that does kind of cancel out the ego.’

  ‘Ugh. Traitors to womankind, the lot of you. Wouldn’t you rather have a great personality than someone who thinks he’s it just because he’s got himself a decent set of cheekbones and some abs?’

  ‘Depends what you’re looking for, doesn’t it?’ Meg said, shrugging. ‘A decent set of cheekbones and some abs are fine for what I’ve got in mind.’

  ‘So are Hattie and Cal still as loved up as ever?’ Ursula said, diplomatically changi
ng the subject.

  ‘Yeah, it’s pretty nauseating,’ Bridie said. ‘I can’t go anywhere in the house without hearing their loud squelchy snogging – or worse. I wish the walls weren’t so thin.’

  ‘Sounds like I ought to start shopping for hats.’

  ‘Well, it’s not quite reached that stage yet, thank God. If Cal takes my Hattie away from me, I might have to revise my good opinion of him.’

  ‘Of who?’ Hattie asked as she joined them again. She handed over a mug of coffee and Bridie cuddled it to her gratefully.

  ‘Your boyfriend,’ she said, blowing on her drink. ‘Ursula was wondering if wedding bells might soon be ringing out.’

  Hattie flushed as she reassumed her seat. ‘Don’t be daft.’ She smiled. ‘He is wonderful though. Honestly, every time I wake up next to him I can’t believe my luck.’

  ‘See?’ Bridie said to the other two. ‘This is what I have to live with now. I can’t decide if it’s sickening, adorable or a bit of both.’

  The head, Mr Duxbury, entered the staffroom and cleared his throat for silence.

  ‘What’s this meeting about anyway? Do you know?’ Bridie whispered to Ursula.

  ‘Two months until we break up for summer, right? I guess it’s the usual recruitment drive.’

  ‘Oh Christ, no.’

  ‘OK, you’re all here. Good,’ the head teacher said. ‘Now as you know, this is traditionally the time of year when I ask – stop!’ He spun to face Adrian Verges, the deputy head, who’d been trying to sidle to the door. ‘Nice try, Mr Verges. Sit yourself back down.’

  Adrian fell reluctantly into a nearby seat. Duxbury marched to the door and stood with his back against it, in case there were any more escape attempts.

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘As I was saying, this is traditionally the time of year when I appeal for volunteers to supervise the Duke of Edinburgh Gold training expedition during the six-week holidays.’

  There was a collective groan from the staff.

  ‘Now I don’t know why you always react like that,’ Duxbury said, frowning at them. ‘I’ve been going on the trips for years, they’re always a basket of laughs.’

  ‘Traipsing dozens of miles across soggy countryside then spending all night trying to stop hormonal spotty-faced kids from sneaking into each other’s tents for a fumble?’ Hattie muttered to her friends. ‘Yeah, sounds like it.’

  Duxbury spun to fix a Grinch-like smile on her. ‘What was that, Miss Leonard? Did I just hear a ringing “yes please” from you?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘What? No!’

  ‘Mmm, you know, I’m sure I did. Very generous of you to offer your time, thank you.’

  Hattie turned a horrified look on her friends while he scribbled her name down on a clipboard. Meg tried unsuccessfully to smother a laugh.

  ‘Ah! And Miss Collins too,’ Duxbury said, turning on Meg with the same dangerous grin. ‘I see you’re in full agreement with your friend Miss Leonard. What a lot of fun you’re going to have together. I’m sure my delightful cousin Ursula will want to join you both as well, what with you all being as thick as thieves in the night.’

  ‘No way!’ Ursula said.

  ‘Of course you do. You were a Girl Guide, weren’t you?’

  Ursula folded her arms. ‘You can’t use inside information like that against me, Eddie, it’s unethical. Plus I’ll tell Nana on you.’

  ‘Go ahead, she’ll be on my side. She always did think you ought to get outside more.’ Duxbury scanned the rest of the assembled staff, every one of whom seemed to be trying to make themselves as small and as silent as possible. ‘Well well well, this is going to be easier than I thought. Anyone else here with a comment to make?’

  ‘Help me,’ Hattie mouthed to Bridie while the head wrote down Meg and Ursula’s names.

  Bridie grimaced before raising her hand to ask a question.

  ‘Um, Mr Duxbury?’

  ‘Yes, Ms Morgan?’

  ‘How does it work, please? I mean, where are you going to be taking the D of E kids?’

  ‘We’ll be doing a twenty-five-mile yomp over the North York Moors, carrying all our own equipment, tents and food. The children will have to plot the route and navigate by OS map – none of this mobile phone GPS nonsense. This is a practice walk to prepare them for their final expedition, which they’ll do with minimal supervision and guidance at a later date.’ He puffed himself up. ‘This is the way they build resilience and self-sufficiency. Skills I think a few of you could benefit from learning too.’

  ‘Yes, but we don’t actually have any skills, do we? Hattie doesn’t know how to read maps or put tents up or anything like that.’ Bridie shot Hattie an apologetic look. ‘Trust me as someone who’s frequently had to help her navigate: she could get lost in her own backyard.’

  Hattie looked put out at this summary of her navigation skills. She opened her mouth to object, then caught Duxbury’s eye and closed it again.

  ‘Not a problem,’ Duxbury said airily. ‘Teachers are only expected to supervise the students. There will be a professional instructor present to take responsibility for the expeditionary side of things; I’ve arranged it with a local company that organises treks and other outdoor activities. Really, it’ll be like a free holiday for you. I can’t understand why you aren’t all fighting for places.’

  ‘But what if we lose our way on the moors?’

  ‘Well, we can burn that bridge when we come to it.’ His pencil hovered ominously over his clipboard. ‘So, Ms Morgan? Can I write you down? I’m sure you want to keep your three friends company, don’t you?’

  ‘I can’t believe I agreed to go on this bloody expedition,’ Bridie grumbled as she got ready for her date back at the house that evening.

  She pulled a top out from the cupboard and chucked it to Hattie, who was sitting on the edge of her bed.

  ‘Hmm,’ Hattie said as she held it against herself. ‘Bit revealing, Bride. You’ll have him drooling into your cleavage all night.’

  ‘Good point. I’m far too tired for cleavage-drooling.’ She glanced at the life-size cardboard cut-out of George Clooney that inhabited one corner of her room. ‘What do you reckon, Georgie?’

  Bridie could sense from George’s expression of quirked-eyebrow amusement that he agreed with Hattie’s assessment. Her housemate threw the top back to her and Bridie put it away in the cupboard again.

  ‘Anyway, the D of E thing wasn’t my fault,’ Hattie said. ‘You saw what happened. That arse Duxbury bullied me into it.’

  ‘Only because you had to go and open your big mouth about how shit it was going to be. And now you’ve dragged me, Meg and Ursula down with you. Cheers, mate.’

  ‘You never know, it might be fun. If we all fill our rucksacks with boxes of wine we’ll get through it.’

  ‘As you so perceptively pointed out in the meeting, it’ll be wet, miserable and full of randy kids trying to get off with each other whenever we turn our backs,’ Bridie said. ‘I remember it well from when I was a horny seventeen-year-old making life hell for the poor suckers who’d been roped into supervising our D of E training.’

  ‘Oh, right. So you have got some outdoor skills then.’

  ‘Well yeah, some, but I was hardly going to tell Duxbury that, was I? The main thing is, I know from personal experience that it’s bound to be awful.’

  Hattie propped her chin on her fist. ‘Yeah, I know. I was trying to find a bright side.’

  ‘There isn’t one. Sorry, Hat.’

  ‘Thanks for offering to keep me company anyway. I promise I’ll make it up to you somehow.’ She sighed. ‘The worst part is having to spend a weekend away from Cal. Not sure how I’ll cope for two whole days without a cuddle.’

  ‘Well it’s no good looking at me, sweetheart.’ Bridie shook her head. ‘You’ve really got it bad for that boy, haven’t you?’

  Hattie hugged herself, smiling dreamily. ‘I know. I never knew it could be like this. Love, I mean.’

  ‘I’m half
sorry I ever introduced the pair of you.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ Bridie said, smiling too. ‘As much as I want to play up to my reputation as a hardened cynic about all things romance-related, you two are obviously made for each other. And Cal’s a good guy, despite his evil big brother’s influence. Nauseating as you are together, I’m glad you’re both happy.’

  Hattie stood up to give her a squeeze.

  ‘You don’t have to go on this date, Bride,’ she said. ‘You know it’s only going to make you miserable. Why don’t you text the lad to say you’ve got a cold or something, then we’ll get into our PJs and watch a film? You need time to recover from last night’s dating disaster before my party tomorrow.’

  ‘That does sound nice.’ Bridie hesitated a moment, then sighed and carried on rifling through her cupboard. ‘But I have to go. I made a promise to myself that I’d see this thing through to the bitter end. Besides, I’m presuming you’ve got Cal coming over.’

  ‘Yeah. So?’

  ‘So, if it’s a choice between watching you two being sickeningly loved up on the living room sofa or going out for my daily dose of man-cure, I think I’ll choose the latter.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘I take it Ben’ll be there tomorrow night?’

  ‘Well, yes. He’s my boyfriend’s brother, Bridie, I had to invite him.’

  ‘Huh. He’s a man-cure all by himself.’ She groaned. ‘Oh God. I hope this guy Craig I’ve got lined up for tomorrow isn’t too horrendous. Ben’ll take the piss something chronic if I turn up with a total dud.’

  Hattie smiled. ‘Come on, admit it. For all your slating of Ben, you get off on winding him up.’

  ‘I won’t deny that scoring off Ben Kemp is one of my life’s few pleasures. Still, I wish he’d stayed in South America until I was done with the twenty dates thing. That’s just the sort of ammo he’ll delight in using against me forever.’ Bridie finally selected a yellow strappy top and chucked it onto the bed. ‘This’ll do. Now help me hide the bags under my eyes before I have to go.’