Teacher's Pet

by Shelley Ellerbeck

  He watched Allie walk across the playground with Harry and George. The sunlight turned her hair to gold, which danced, luminous and glowing. Her skirt swirled around her shapely legs as she turned to wave. He could feel the warmth of her body from here. As he turned back to his desk, he made a decision. He wouldn’t lie to Allie. He could have no secrets from a woman he desired as much as that.

  Chapter Five

  Saturday morning dawned clear and bright. Allie stretched out in her bed, relishing the silence of her street before the children began to spill out onto the tarmac to play. Soon it would echo with the sounds of shouting, running, and footballs being kicked against walls. She glanced at the clock: eight a.m... She sat up slowly, reaching for her bathrobe and wrapping it around her body. Nightwear in summer may have become a thing of the past, but Allie needed to remember she had two eight-year-olds who were still apt to burst in unannounced.

  “Mum? Have you seen my football boots?”

  Harry threw open the bedroom door, then hesitated, looking guiltily at his mother. He knew he had just done something wrong. He simply had no idea what.

  “By the back door.” Allie said, fastening her waistband. “And next time, knock before you come in.”

  “Sorry mum.” He thundered down the stairs.

  “George’s are out there too,” she called, heading for the bathroom. “And lay the table, please. If you want a chocolate croissant, that is.”

  Her hand froze on the bathroom doorknob as she heard the phone ring.

  “I’ll get it!” George’s voice echoed round the hall. “Hello? Hello? Who is this?”

  “George! If there’s no answer, give me the phone.” She was running down the stairs as she spoke. Her heart began to beat faster.

  “Hello? Hello!” George was insistent.

  “Give it to me, George.” Allie grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

  Once more, the voice was unrecognisable, yet laden with menace.

  “Allie?”

  “Who is this?” She knew she had to do what Jeremiah had advised, but curiosity got the better of her. She needed to hear. To try and work out who this was. To prove she wasn’t scared. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Allie.” The tone became slightly lower. “You really like him, don’t you?”

  “What are you talking about? Who is this?”

  “Listen. If you keep on making eyes at him, acting like he’s yours, I’m going to make you regret it.” There was a laugh. “You think you’re pretty, don’t you?” Then a pause. “You won’t look so pretty by the time I’ve finished with you. That’s for sure.”

  And the caller hung up.

  Slowly, Allie put down the phone, hands shaking slightly. She looked at George, who was gazing up at her, wide-eyed.

  “Another one of those ‘cold callers’, mum? What were they trying to sell you this time?”

  She summoned up a smile.

  “They were cold, all right.” She picked up the phone again. “Could you lay the table for me? Thanks.”

  As George turned to go into the kitchen, she glanced at the ‘Nuisance Calls?’ leaflet by the phone and dialled the number on the cover.

  “It must be her!” Liz’s voice echoed around Allie’s sun-filled kitchen. It was late afternoon, and she and Jeremiah had popped by for a chat before Allie’s date.

  “I just can’t believe she could say such nasty things.” Allie sipped her tea, watching the shards of light dance off the surface of the liquid. “I was scared.” She took in Liz’s confident expression before continuing. “And I can’t imagine being scared of Melanie.”

  Liz sighed, as though explaining something to a petulant child:

  “There’s no one else it could be,” she said, softly. Allie sometimes found her friend’s habit of staring fixedly at the person she was talking to disconcerting.

  “What about… What’s her name?” Jeremiah was leaning on the dresser, watching his daughters beating Harry and George at football in the garden. He had trouble remembering names, and often wished the world could wear name tags, like the students he taught in the college. “Gwendolyne?” he ventured. “You know: the tart with no heart.”

  “Eleanor,” corrected Allie.

  “That’s the one.” Jeremiah strolled over and sat at the table with the women. “Didn’t she used to be in the ‘Adams Family’?”

  Allie giggled.

  “Yes. She was Uncle Fester.”

  Jeremiah laughed as he sipped his coffee. Only his dark eyes betrayed a slight concern.

  “Did you call the police?”

  “They said there was nothing they could do.”

  “What? Even if it keeps happening?”

  “Yes. The only thing I can do is change my number.”

  “Hmm.” Jeremiah looked thoughtful. “Maybe it won’t come to that. Maybe he or she will stop. If you don’t react.” He helped himself to a biscuit before fixing his gaze on Allie again. “You’re still doing what I said, aren’t you? Putting the receiver down next to the phone?” Allie nodded. “So hopefully they’ll give up soon.” He stood up abruptly. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to go and help your sons.” He was heading for the door as he spoke. “They’re being slaughtered at a man’s game and I can’t have that.”

  Once he had gone out, Allie glanced at Liz. She seemed lost in thought.

  “So, you really think it’s Melanie?” Allie asked. She watched as Liz ran her capable hands through her tousled hair.

  “Yes,” she replied, gazing, unblinking, at Allie. “Or maybe Eleanor: the Wicked Witch of West Oaks.”

  “Don’t you mean the Pandora of Pine Vale?”

  “It’s West Oaks. I don’t care what she says.”

  They both laughed. Locally, parents mortgaged themselves until far beyond the grave just to obtain a Pine Vale postcode. It gave instant access to ‘reputable’ schools, a café society lifestyle and professional neighbours. West Oaks, the neighbouring area, wasn’t quite so reputable.

  “Well, I’m not sure,” Liz continued. “If this caller is neither of those two, then it could be James. You said you weren’t sure whether it was a man or a woman, didn’t you?”

  Allie considered this for a moment.

  “I don’t know. I think he’d just tell me straight rather than waste his phone bill and disguise his voice, don’t you?”

  Liz sat back and put down her cup, eyes on Allie.

  “I wouldn’t put anything past him. Look at what he did to you.” Allie was shocked at the bitterness in Liz’s voice. “He’s easily capable of that.”

  There was an awkward silence as Allie silently registered the hatred Liz harboured for James. It flashed out for a second and filled the space between them, before Liz reined it in and locked it away again.

  “Maybe,” Allie said. “But I’m not sure.”

  Suddenly, Liz reached across the table and took Allie’s hand.

  “Allie, I care about you,” she began. “You don’t deserve someone who hurts you. That’s all I mean. I’m sorry.”

  Allie drew her hand away gently.

  “That’s OK, Liz,” she said quietly. “I’ll put the kettle on again. James will be here in a moment to pick up the boys.”

  She got up to go over to the sink, vaguely aware of Jeremiah standing by the window, looking in.

  Pine Vale Lido was an oasis of calm on the edge of the city. A large lake surrounded by dense woodland, it boasted a man-made beach where local mums gathered, offspring in tow, after a hard day at the gym or the massage parlour. Or, for the really unlucky few, the office. It was always busy at weekends and tonight was no exception. Families made their way down to the water’s edge, toddlers riding bikes with stabilisers, over-protective parents steadying them needlessly.

  As they drew up, Allie allowed herself a furtive glance at Paul. His muscular body was turned towards her as he parked. She let her gaze linger on his arms, his tight tee shirt emphasising their powerful shape. She wondered what the truth about him was, a
nd whether he would tell her.

  “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” He had finished his manoeuvre and fixed his calm gaze on her.

  “No.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve got something to ask you, Paul.”

  “Fire away.” He leaned back in his seat. “Anything you like.”

  “You and…” Her voice tailed off.

  “Yes? Me and…?”

  She opened her mouth and again the wrong words came out.

  “Sport. Do you do any sport?”

  “Sport? Me and sport?” He grinned. “I run, swim and play ice hockey. Not all at the same time, of course. And the ice is a bit thin on the ground over here.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his expression thoughtful for a moment, as though there was a detail he was trying to remember. “Was that your question?”

  “Yes,” she lied, opening the door of the car. “Come on. If you play your cards right, I’ll buy you an ice cream.”

  “You know how to tempt a man,” he said, locking the car and following her down the path towards the lake.

  A little later, Allie and Paul were sitting outside the Lido pub. Allie was sipping a glass of wine, Paul a coffee. Allie marvelled at the fact that Paul looked so healthy, yet ingested so much caffeine.

  “In Canada, it’s stronger,” he remarked.

  “But doesn’t it keep you awake?”

  “No. Nothing keeps me awake.”

  “Nothing?” Allie smiled at him.

  He grinned.

  “Nothing. Not even-”

  “Allie! What a surprise!” A shrill voice cut through their conversation. “Fancy seeing you here!”

  Allie looked up and saw Eleanor, impeccable in a crisp linen suit, designer sunglasses and a silk scarf. Relaxed, yet casual. Just by looking at her Allie knew she had spent a small fortune achieving this effect. Jocasta and Primrose, dressed equally tastefully in expensive-looking pink and yellow dresses, were playing on the swings by the lakeside.

  “And who is this?” she asked, the sun glinting on her subtly-highlighted red hair as she leaned down to kiss Allie. She pushed back her sunglasses to reveal her China-blue eyes, framed with thick, dark lashes. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.” She held out a petite, French-manicured hand to Paul. Glancing first at Allie, he took it and gave it a cursory shake.

  “Eleanor, this is Paul Richmond, the boys’ new teacher. Paul, this is Eleanor.” Allie shot him a meaningful glance. “James’ partner.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Richmond.”

  Paul withdrew his hand quickly and nodded.

  “Hi.”

  Eleanor let her eyes linger on Paul a little longer than was necessary, before turning back to Allie.

  “So, how are you?” Her voice was bright and brittle. “And your job? Still at the college?”

  Allie nodded.

  “Still there.”

  “Good for you.” She turned back to Paul. “And how are you finding Mayfield School, Mr. Richmond? I hope the little horrors aren’t playing you up too much?”

  “No, not yet anyway.” Allie noticed a twinkle in Paul’s eyes as he continued. “And if they misbehave, I just lock them in the stock cupboard.”

  Allie smiled. Eleanor’s eyes widened, just a little.

  “Is that allowed in state schools?”

  “It’s what we do back home.”

  “But, surely…” She paused. “You’re having me on, aren’t you, Mr. Richmond?”

  Paul met Allie’s gaze briefly. She tried to read the emotion in his eyes. She concluded it was bewilderment, tinged with incredulity.

  “Don’t mind him, Eleanor,” she said quickly. “How are the girls?”

  “Still recovering from Goa. What a nightmare. Such poverty. Dreadful.” She pulled down her glasses as the rays of the setting sun bounced off the water, making her squint. “Next year it’s the Seychelles.” Paul appeared to be trying hard not to laugh. “At least you know where you are with the Seychelles. I mean, you don’t want to see beggars on holiday, do you?”

  Paul rose to his feet abruptly.

  “I don’t suppose the beggars want to see rich tourists either,” he said, rapidly clearing the table. “Another Molotov cocktail, Allie?”

  She suppressed a laugh. She noticed he made no more eye contact with Eleanor, despite the fact she was peering at him, following his every movement in fact, from over her glasses.

  “Molotov cocktail, that sounds tasty,” Eleanor said.

  Paul’s back was already turned as he strode towards the pub entrance.

  “It’ll blow your head off. Bye Eleanor.” He was shaking his head gently, as though in disbelief.

  “What an attractive man,” Eleanor began, tearing her eyes away from the sight of Paul’s behind with some difficulty. “Where did you find him?”

  “He found me, actually.”

  There was a moment of silence. Allie looked down, aware of Eleanor scrutinising her clothes, her figure, her hair, and finding it all sadly lacking. A high-pitched whine drifted over from the water’s edge.

  “Mum! Mum! Can we go home now?”

  “Kids, eh?” For once, Eleanor sounded genuinely fed up and suddenly Allie felt sorry for her. She glanced up and took in the artificiality that money could buy: a gym-toned body, fake nails, hair extensions and skin like silk as a result of being pummelled and scrubbed every week. She wouldn’t swap places with her for the world. If someone took away all her possessions and beauty treatments, Eleanor would be lost, lonely and even unhappier than she was now.

  “See you, Eleanor. Take care.”

  There was a whiff of Chanel as Eleanor bent to kiss the empty space next to Allie’s cheeks. Allie watched as she walked over towards her daughters, who were both scowling at her. Her voice carried on the still air as she disappeared from view.

  “Now. Which restaurant would you like to go to tonight?”

  The high-pitched whine was doubled.

  “Not again mum….”

  Amazing, thought Allie. George and Harry would be thrilled if I could afford to take them out to eat.

  “What a fruitcake…” Paul was laughing as he walked back over from the pub. “Do you think she really thought a Molotov cocktail was a drink?”

  “Paul. That’s cruel. She can’t help being…”

  “Ignorant?”

  Allie started.

  “Out of touch maybe.”

  “She seemed in touch all right to me.” He sat down. “You, Mrs. Johnson, are being amazingly kind about the woman who stole your husband.”

  “It takes two, you know.” Allie fixed Paul with an intense stare. “She tempted him. He wanted to be tempted.” She took a sip of her wine. “Don’t you think?”

  His keen gaze burned her, as if he was trying to fathom her soul.

  “All I know is I don’t like women like that.” He frowned slightly. “And James must have been mad to leave a woman like you for… That.”

  Allie laughed.

  “Flatterer.”

  “No, I mean it.” His eyes were dark, serious. “She may look good, but….” Now it was Allie’s turn to scowl. “You’re so much more….. Real.”

  “Real?”

  “Without the cosmetics, jewellery and expensive clothes, there’s not much there. Not only is she shallow and superficial, but she doesn’t seem to have a sense of humour.”

  “Not a big hit with you, then.”

  Paul’s eyes grew even darker.

  “No.” He glanced down for a moment before continuing. “But you, Allie, well. You’ll always be gorgeous. You’re so much more attractive because you’re unaware of it. You’re… I’ll shut up now, shall I?”

  Allie nodded, secretly pleased at his remarks.

  “Yes. Let’s talk about you.”

  “I might need a beer before we do that.”

  She laughed, and their conversation continued until darkness had fallen over the lake. She found out a lot about him. How he had always wanted to be a te
acher, and how he missed the vast, open spaces of Canada. How he would probably go back there for good one day (her heart sank at this revelation), but he wasn’t sure.

  “What would it take to keep you here?” she asked, hardly daring to meet his eye.

  “A very special woman,” he replied. Then, suddenly, he looked away.

  “Paul? Are you OK?” Allie could feel his sorrow washing over her.

  He turned his gaze on her again, slowly. She saw sadness in his eyes.

  “I need to tell you something,” he began. “To explain something to you. About my past.”

  “I’m listening.” Allie leaned forward, elbows on the rough wooden table between them.

  “I was married.” He coughed before continuing. “To a very special woman.”

  I knew it, thought Allie. He’s on the rebound. She tried to keep the tone of resignation out of her voice.

  “What happened?”

  “She died.”

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

  His eyes grew darker. The muted lights of the pub garden reflected off the water, accentuating the contours of his face.

  “She had cancer. Have you heard of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma?”

  Allie’s heart lurched.

  “My father died of it.” She reached out and took his hand in hers. Her fingers stroked his smooth skin. “How old was your wife?”

  “Thirty three.” His voice was low. “She died two years ago. After her second period of remission.”

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

  All around them people were chatting and laughing, enjoying the warm, summer night. But a silence had settled over their table. It was as though the rest of the world was still concerned with trivia: whose turn it was to buy the drinks, what was happening in the latest TV reality show… Whereas Paul and Allie had been cut off from all that and had entered a different realm. The realm of memories, revelations and shared grief.

  Not quite knowing what to say, Allie held his hand a little tighter. Suddenly, he grasped both her hands in his, lifted them to his lips and kissed them gently.