rest of the series, and took time over the half-term break to consider my future as I hadn’t
allowed myself to do before, I became increasingly certain about what my next step would be.
*
Jo Blair was surprised when I asked for a word on the first day back after half-term. I followed
her into the office before she could refuse. She sat down behind her desk, assuming a position
of power, but I remained standing: this wouldn’t take long.
‘Do you remember when you first arrived, and you asked me to spy on the members of
staff?’ I asked.
‘Not spy,’ Jo replied, clearly caught off guard by the question. ‘I thought that as a long-
serving member of staff you were well placed to give feedback.’
I nodded; it was semantics, we both knew that.
‘I’ve reconsidered,’ I said. ‘I’ve given it a lot of thought over half-term, and I can’t
keep quiet. There’s a member of staff who doesn’t seem motivated to do their job. I’m
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concerned that you may consider their performance inefficient. Their commitment to the school
isn’t what it once was.’
Jo Blair leant across the desk. ‘This is exactly the sort of information I was looking for.
Well done, Eve. Who is it?’
‘It’s me.’ I threw an envelope onto her desk, where it landed at a rakish angle in the
middle, in delightful defiance of the clear desk policy. ‘There’s my resignation. I’ll work to the
end of term.’
I walked to the office door and then turned.
‘Oh, and Jo? The way you spoke to me the other week was out of order. Harassment,
bullying – I’d say it was gross misconduct of one sort or another, wouldn’t you? All done in
front of witnesses too. But I’ve decided not to report you, because you only have a few more
weeks left at this school, don’t you? You’ll be starting your next interim post after summer.
And I wouldn’t want to harm your chances of moving on – or harm the chances of this school
to be able to attract the sort of permanent head it deserves: one who appreciates its staff, and
cares more about raising happy, confident children than about bottom lines, efficiencies and
statistics.’
I walked out and returned to my desk, where I sank into my chair. I had no idea if it
would work, and dissuade Jo from any thought of applying for the permanent role, but it was
worth a shot. I reached into my handbag and took out one of the remaining Be Kind to Yourself
vouchers. With hands shaking, and feeling a curious mix of exhilaration and terror, I wrote out
the next card.
BE KIND TO YOURSELF
VOUCHER SEVEN
I, Eve Roberts, have been kind to myself by resigning from my job!
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*
Tina was open-mouthed when I told her what I’d done.
‘Resigned?’ she repeated, as I drove along by the side of the river, heading back through
the outskirts of Inglebridge and on towards home. ‘Have you been drinking?’
‘Of course not. In fact, this is the result of sober reflection that I should have indulged
in months ago.’ Maybe even years ago. ‘The cheque from Mum has given me a chance I can’t
waste. I can afford to take some time off, try something different. It might be a disaster. It’s
undoubtedly rash to hand in my notice before I’ve even thought about what else I can do. But
I have to give it a go.’
‘So I’m going to have to drive myself to school from September? I’d better inherit your
space or there’ll be trouble.’ Tina grimaced. ‘I can’t believe you’re leaving me to face Jo Blair
on my own, if she does apply for the head’s post.’
‘You never know, she might decide that Inglebridge isn’t the place for her after all.’ I
smiled to myself. Jo Blair better had move on – if she returned in September, either in an
interim or permanent position, my complaint would go in the next day.
We arrived home and as we left the car, Tina came round and gave me a hug, squeezing
me so tightly I could hardly breathe.
‘Good for you,’ she said, drawing back. ‘I don’t know what’s brought this on, but I
hope it works out.’
‘So do I.’ I smiled. ‘I need to try, while I can. I don’t want to reach a point in life where
I look back and see so many things not done.’
As Paddy’s mum, Alison, did now. I had thought about her a lot since the day we had
visited. Not only her, but Faye too, and even my dad. What opportunities might they have
grasped if they had known what lay ahead? I felt as if I owed it to them to make the most of
everything that came my way.
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‘It’s been quite a momentous day, hasn’t it?’ Tina said, digging out her house keys. ‘I
think I’d better have a celebratory drink on your behalf. I don’t suppose even this will knock
you off the wagon, will it? Tell me you’re doing something to mark the occasion.’
‘I’ll probably go for a run.’ I grinned as Tina rolled her eyes. ‘But I do have something
special lined up for later. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out about that!’
*
I decided to walk to Rich’s house after my run. It was a perfect early summer evening, and the
sun still shone down from the pale denim sky, gilding the warm stone of the buildings in
Inglebridge town centre. Even on a midweek night, the market square was half-filled with cars,
and the restaurants and pubs buzzed with laughter and conversation as I passed by.
The French bistro, on the corner of the ginnel that led down to the river, looked
particularly appealing with the dimmed lights, checked tablecloths and candles on the tables.
Despite the tempting menu and brilliant reviews, I’d never been: it was phenomenally
expensive, and I had usually felt obliged to support Lexy at The White Hart when I’d taken
Caitlyn out for a meal. But with unexpected cash in the bank, and unused ‘Be Kind to Yourself’
vouchers in my bag, I vowed that would change. When Caitlyn and Mum came over for my
birthday in August, we’d go to the bistro for a meal. We could even invite Gran, if we could
persuade her to behave and not go on about frog’s legs and garlic.
Rich had taken his children away over half-term, and so I hadn’t seen or spoken to him
since Paddy and I had caught him in the pub with his younger woman. The break had given me
space to reassess our relationship, and what I wanted from it. The answer had been surprisingly
clear.
I banged on the door. Rich opened it, nodded at me, and stepped back to let me in.
‘You took your time,’ he said, as he dropped down into his armchair, without offering
me a drink. ‘I thought you’d have been in touch to apologise before now.’
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‘Apologise?’ I repeated, dumbfounded by Rich’s attitude. I’d expected an apology from
him, not an attack. ‘What do I have to apologise for?’
‘Don’t play the innocent. I saw you in the pub the other weekend with that long-haired
tosser off the telly.’
I leant back against the mantelpiece, needing to feel the solid marble beneath my fingers
/> – to feel something real, unlike whatever accusations Rich was making.
‘I’d taken him to visit his parents, because he’d injured his leg,’ I said, and then
immediately regretted the urge to explain myself, and the betrayal of any details of that day
with Paddy. ‘We stopped for a drink on the way home. It was innocent. You were kissing
whoever you were with.’
‘She’s nothing.’ He picked up his can of lager and took a swig. ‘You don’t need to
worry about her.’
He thought I was jealous? How could he know me so little, after the two years we had
been together? Paddy had been apart from me for seventeen years and he knew me better than
this. And as Rich grinned at me, enjoying the moment and my perceived envy over his other
woman, there was only one idea that sprang to mind. He was boorish. How had I missed it?
Because I hadn’t spent time getting to know him, hadn’t chosen to look beyond the superficially
attractive blond-haired and blue-eyed exterior. We had been compatible, both physically and
in our limited requirements from a relationship, and I hadn’t dug deeper – an irony, when all
my training had been about looking below the surface before making a judgement. Who was
the shallow one now?
But even before catching him in the pub, I’d begun to feel niggles of dissatisfaction.
We had nothing in common, either in our interests or in our outlook. I didn’t listen to him talk
and admire his knowledge and his passion. When we sat in silence, it was awkward, not
comfortable: our silence was independent, not shared. I would never weep myself to sleep over
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Rich, and I had thought that was what I wanted – but I’d been wrong. What was the point of
being with someone who didn’t stir your soul?
‘I’m not worried about your other woman,’ I said at last. ‘I’m relieved you have
someone else. It makes it so much easier to walk away. In fact, scrub that. I’m not walking.
I’m running, as fast as I can go.’
‘You’ll regret it!’ Rich called after me, as I headed for the front door, but he was wrong.
I regretted many things, but I would never regret this one. I slammed the door shut on that
episode of my life and headed home without looking back.
BE KIND TO YOURSELF
VOUCHER EIGHT
I, Eve Roberts, have been kind to myself by dumping Rich!
*
I’d wondered how long it would take Caitlyn to ring after receiving the latest vouchers. The
answer was four days; she must have called as soon as my letter arrived.
‘Mum? Are you okay?’ she asked, cutting across my usual battery of questions about
how she was and what she had been doing.
‘Never better.’
‘But these Be Kind to Yourself vouchers you’ve sent …’
‘I’m doing well, aren’t I? Two at once! This is so much fun.’
There was a brief silence at the other end and I could easily imagine that Caitlyn was
rolling her eyes in the melodramatic way she did when I exasperated her. I tried not to laugh.
‘It says you’ve quit your job.’
‘I have.’
‘And dumped Rich?’
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‘Yes. It’s not before time, is it?’
Another silence. I was enjoying myself. Over the last few days, since cutting ties with
work and Rich, I had felt a lightness and happiness that I hadn’t known for a while – certainly
not since Caitlyn had left. My future was empty – deliciously so. It was exhilarating, not
terrifying as I might have expected. I almost felt as I had done when I had left university; as if
the world was out there, waiting for me to make my mark on it. I didn’t underestimate how
lucky I was to have this chance.
‘Have you started the menopause?’ Caitlyn asked. ‘Is this what it does? Makes you go
a bit weird? Because, you know, the vouchers were only meant for fun things. Like having a
facial or buying a new dress. I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble.’
‘A new dress? There’s an idea …’ I laughed and took pity on her. ‘I promise I’m not
being weird. Weirder,’ I added, in deference to Tina’s frequent complaint about me and my
temperate, healthy lifestyle. ‘And you certainly haven’t caused any trouble. You made me think
more carefully about my life, that’s all. Perhaps it is time to be kinder to myself, explore some
of those opportunities.’
‘Like going on the dig. I told you that was a good idea. But won’t you miss Rich? I
mean, you’re not sounding exactly heartbroken, but you’ll be even more on your own now.
And it must be hard, at your age, finding someone who’s in full working order.’
She giggled, and I sighed.
‘You can’t start the old age jokes yet. I’m still in my thirties.’
‘Only for two and a half more months!’ Oddly, that reminder actually made me even
happier. Caitlyn would be back for my birthday; I’d be seeing her again in a few weeks’ time.
It was worth turning forty for that alone.
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‘Well, I’m glad you listened to me at last!’ Caitlyn laughed. ‘Remember what you’ve
always told me. You’re brave enough and talented enough and loved enough to achieve
anything you want. It’s your turn. Go for it, Mum. Love you!’
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CHAPTER 17
Even on a day of relentless drizzle, the Inglebridge Saturday market was packed with shoppers.
I visited every week, and there was always something new to see, as the stallholders displayed
the best of the season’s produce, and tried to catch the attention – and empty the pockets – of
the tourists who visited town. I loved browsing among the stalls and chatting to the traders:
selecting hunks of local cheese, cut from the truckle that had come straight from the dairy;
choosing freshly caught fish from the assortment brought down from the Cumbrian coast; and
filling my basket with vegetables still covered with soil.
But as I paid the greengrocer and moved on to the next stall, there was something new
to see that I would never have expected: I glimpsed a mop of dark curls behind me. Just as I
was convincing myself that it couldn’t possibly be Paddy, a familiar laugh rang out, and the
man turned and caught me staring.
‘Eve!’ Paddy smiled and stepped towards me. I wondered if he would try to kiss my
cheek, but I was laden down with baskets, and he had a paper bag in his hand, so any closer
contact was too tricky. ‘I was about to call and see you. I even have gifts!’ He waved the paper
bag at me.
‘From the bakery stall?’
‘Ah, I know what you’re thinking. I shouldn’t tempt you with cream cakes when you’re
trying to stick to the healthy living malarkey.’ That was close enough to what I’d been thinking.
‘So I bought the flapjacks. Full of oaty goodness, aren’t they? You can’t object to that.’
He laughed, and I found myself smiling back.
‘What are you doing in Inglebridge again?’ I asked. It was almost a month since he had
left my house, after his leg injury, and I hadn’t heard from him since. Not that there had been
any reason why I should.
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‘Haven’t you heard? The third series of Travels Through Time has been confirmed.
We’ve come to do some initial filming.’
I hadn’t heard a thing; I’d been extra busy at school recently, working late some nights,
trying to put everything in order before I left. It was hard to believe I was really going, and
there had been the occasional pang of sadness when I had made arrangements for events that
would take place in the next academic year, and which I wouldn’t be around to see. Not enough
pangs to make me regret my decision, though.
‘You’re definitely going to feature the barrow site?’ I asked.
‘It’s definitely one of the ones we’re considering. The investigations we carried out at
Easter suggested there might be other barrows, less prominent than the main one we saw. We’ll
dig some test trenches, and if it looks interesting, draw up plans for a full excavation next year.’
An excavation on my doorstep! I couldn’t believe that after staying away from
archaeology for so long, it had now come to me.
‘Well, good luck with that,’ I said, starting to turn away.
‘Hey! Hang on. Why don’t you come round and have a look at what we’ve found out
so far? I was on my way to your house to see if you’d be interested. And you might be able to
help me with something, too. You don’t know a local plumber, do you? There are three of us
in a holiday let, and we’ve had to switch the water off because a tap was leaking everywhere.
The owner seems to have gone away for the weekend. If we can’t have a shower, it’s going to
get kinda smelly …’
‘Lucky it’s raining then …’ I replied. Paddy laughed. ‘I usually fix things like that
myself. I can have a look, if you want?’
‘If you’re sure it’s no bother. You’re going to put us three men to shame …’
‘Let me take this shopping home, then I’ll come round and have a look,’ I said. ‘What’s
the address?’
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