by A. E. Radley
“It was lovely meeting you,” Alice said.
“And you.”
Alice nodded and walked into another aisle. She didn’t need any baby food or formula, which seemed to be its primary contents, but she needed to get away from Hannah. The woman was effortlessly stunning, and her smile lifted Alice up to new heights. She wanted more of that smile, even though she knew it wasn’t possible. Rosie’s presence indicated that Alice was barking up the wrong tree.
Not to mention that it had been so long since Alice had been in a relationship that she had completely forgotten what to do. The idea of asking someone out was terrifying, especially on her first working day in a new town, with a presumably straight woman who was the parent of one of her students. Not to mention much younger than her.
But Hannah’s smile had entranced her in a few short seconds. Alice didn’t know what it was about her. Yes, she was attractive, but there was something else. It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck Alice’s heart.
You’ve been single too long, Alice told herself.
She looked up and saw Rosie and Hannah walking towards another aisle. Alice closed her eyes for a second before she shook her head and turned away. Her heart’s ability to become infatuated by the absolutely least likely person to be interested in her continued to amaze her.
She walked to the food aisle and started gathering ingredients for dinner, casually wondering if she should just grab a ready meal for one. The thought was appealing in that it saved time and effort, but it was awful for her self-esteem.
She reminded herself that it was her first week in Fairlight. Things would get better. Hopefully, she’d soon make some friends, and in the future, who knew?
7 THE FAIRLIGHT GRAPEVINE
Rosie sat on the sofa, a pile of books on the coffee table in front of her, her chosen book in her hands. Hannah sat at the dining table with all her home admin paperwork strewn over the table top. She glanced up at her daughter.
“You can watch a DVD if you like,” she offered.
“No, I’m happy reading,” Rosie replied.
Hannah chuckled and shook her head. At Rosie’s age, television time had been Hannah’s most coveted pastime. Anything to be sucked out of reality and rest her brain for a while. She supposed Rosie was technically doing the same, just in a different way.
To give her eyes a break from the various forms, she looked out the window. Below, people were wrapped up in winter coats and hurrying along the street. It had become unseasonably cold very suddenly. Apparently, summer had abandoned England early this year.
The thought of long winter nights made Hannah worry about just how much time Rosie spent indoors. Given the choice, her daughter always preferred to stay in the apartment with a book. This was good for her education, but not great for her health.
Hannah picked up her phone and searched for things to do with children during the winter time. A few suggestions popped up, and swimming caught her eye. It had been years since she’d gone swimming.
A check of the local council website revealed that the local pool was a thirty-minute bus journey away and that the cost wasn’t too expensive. She mentally calculated how many extra appointments she would need to book in order to cover the cost of a weekly swimming session for them both.
“Rosie? How do you feel about going swimming? If Mummy can get the money together?”
Rosie lowered her book and turned her head. “Really?”
“Really,” Hannah agreed, seeing that Rosie was interested in the idea.
“That sounds like fun,” Rosie agreed.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Hannah said.
She knew not to make promises she couldn’t keep, and Rosie knew not to expect too much. For a child, she had a good understanding that things cost money and money wasn’t always plentiful.
Hannah wished it wasn’t that way. She wished that Rosie could have everything she wanted, but reality was a fun-sapping mistress.
She picked up her phone and sent off a quick text to Adrian requesting any extra shifts. He was a fantastic salesman and could often manage to get the locals to come in slightly earlier than they might have done. The previous November he had managed to rustle up five new appointments just by casually commenting to someone in the post office that they were already booked solid for Christmas haircuts.
Of course, everyone decided that they needed another haircut before Christmas, and Adrian was more than happy to squeeze them into a supposedly packed schedule.
As she sent the text to Adrian, she received an email notification from her father. She thumbed open the message. It was the same thing he sent every month, claiming that the money paid directly into her account was pocket money for Rosie. He signed off saying he wanted more photographs of his two favourite girls.
Hannah laughed to herself. She sent about three photos a day to her father, but he always claimed that he never received enough.
She replied, thanking him for the money and telling him he really shouldn’t have. She added, in response to his request for more photos, that he could always come and visit. She knew Fairlight was a long way from Scotland and that they didn’t have the room to put him up, but the offer was always open to him.
Some nights she wondered if she should have gone with him to Scotland, what their lives would have been like up north. But she’d chosen to stay in Fairlight, where she had a job and a couple of good friends. She might have hated Fairlight, but it was her home and she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
“Mummy?” Rosie asked from the living room.
“Yes, pumpkin?”
“What kind of homework do you think I’ll have?”
Ah. Her mind was still on school. Hannah lowered her phone and made a big show of thinking about the question.
“Building a rocket,” she decided. “A real one. So that you and Miss Spencer can go to the moon.”
Rosie laughed. “That sounds very silly. I hope it’s more reading.”
“I don’t think you have time for any more reading,” Hannah told her. “You’ll go blind.”
“If my bedtime was later, then I’d have more time for reading,” Rosie tried.
“Ah, I see. It’s the bedtime discussion again. Nice try, but bedtime is seven-thirty and no later. If your homework is reading, then you’ll have to read your homework first and then your other books in whatever time is left.”
Rosie sighed and turned back to her book, obviously disappointed at failing in her goal to extend her reading time.
“You’ll thank me one day,” Hannah told her.
Rosie remained quiet.
“Even if it’s not today,” Hannah mumbled to herself.
She’d have given anything for a fixed bedtime when she was growing up. Her father was often away for work for many weeks at a time, and her mother didn’t even know she was there. She never went to bed, often passing out from exhaustion on her bedroom floor at some point during the evening or the early morning.
“It’s not fair,” Rosie muttered into the pages of her book.
Hannah walked over to her. She stood behind the sofa and placed her hand on her daughter’s head, gently running her fingers through her hair.
“One day, you’ll understand. I might be accused of coddling you, but never of not loving or caring for you.”
Rosie paused in her reading and turned around to look up at her. She didn’t understand. Hannah had never told her much about her own childhood. Rosie never asked, too young to be curious.
But Rosie obviously knew that something was up. “I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too.” Hannah looked up at the clock on the wall. “Five minutes until bedtime.”
Rosie let out a heartfelt groan.
* * *
Hannah placed the last item of clothing on the pile. She hated ironing. She didn’t think there were many people who enjoyed it, but she hated it with a passion. The irritating task was about to double with Rosie’s uniform being added to
the mix.
She looked at her watch. It was ten o’clock, and she’d just managed to finish all the chores.
Not that she minded. She’d stay up until any time to ensure Rosie had a freshly ironed school outfit and a packed lunch ready to go in the morning. She shook her head at the sham that had been this particular morning. She couldn’t believe that Rosie had prepared her own lunch. Just because she was exceptionally able didn’t mean she should be doing so.
Now, no matter what hurry she was in the following morning, she’d know that Rosie would find a lunch ready for her in the fridge.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She saw it was her father and quickly answered the call.
“Hello, darling,” he greeted. “I wanted to ask how Rosie’s first day at school went.”
“It was great, she loved it.”
“Good, good. There was no doubt about that, bright girl like her. No problems, then?”
Hannah knew what he was alluding to. She felt sorry for him. He’d had no idea of the terrible conditions Hannah had endured until everything had come to a head. Years had gone by with him only half aware of what was happening at home. Even with that fifty-percent knowledge, he never acted. She knew he felt guilty about that now, but she didn’t want him to. Blame could be spread around quite widely, but Hannah knew it wouldn’t change the past.
“No problems,” she said breezily. “She was a bit quiet, but that’s Rosie. She liked her teacher.”
“That’s good. And how about you?”
“I… missed her. But I know I’ll get used to it,” she admitted. “And it will mean less time she has to hang out in the salon.”
“That will be much better for both of you. I’ll give her a call later this week, but I wanted to ask you first.”
He loved to chat on the phone, but Rosie wasn’t so keen. It had taken him a while to understand that difference between them. Nowadays, he called Hannah first to get the information he wanted and then had a casual chat with Rosie after.
“I appreciate that. I’m sure she won’t say a lot, you know what she’s like,” Hannah said.
“She’s like you were when you were little. Didn’t have a lot to say.”
“That’s all changed now, though, right?” she joked.
“Yep, now I can’t stop you.”
She smiled, enjoying their banter.
“Guess what Rosie did this morning?” she said.
“What did she do?”
“She made her own lunch.”
He laughed. “I’m surprised she didn’t take herself to school. She’s been looking forward to it since she could say the word.”
“I know! I was a little behind this morning—”
“—as usual.”
“As usual,” she confessed. “And when I saw her, she was fully dressed, with her bag packed and a lunch made and put in her lunchbox.”
“That’s my granddaughter. She’ll go far.”
“She will. I just hope she doesn’t leave me behind. She’s five. She shouldn’t be making her own lunch at five.”
“She can come and make my dinner if she likes?” he joked.
“We have a rule about using the oven or the microwave only when I’m in the room,” she explained.
“Good. She has a wise head on young shoulders, but she’s still a wee thing. Has she grown at all yet?”
“No, still waiting on that growth spurt so she can see her fingers through her school jumper.” Hannah unplugged the iron and started putting things away in the kitchen. “I’ve made her lunch now and put it in the fridge, so she doesn’t make her own again.”
“Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t she?”
“She really does!”
“You say she likes her teacher?”
“Yes, Miss Spencer was mentioned a lot throughout the afternoon and evening.”
Hannah’s mind started to wander. She’d tried to forget about the gorgeous woman in the supermarket, but it wasn’t easy when Rosie mentioned her in every other breath.
“Spencer? Don’t remember that name.”
“She’s new to the area. I think someone said she’s from Manchester?”
“Ah! The Fairlight Grapevine. They’ll know her inside leg measurement within a day or two.” He chuckled.
Hannah bit her lip. “Yeah,” she said half-heartedly.
She didn’t want to think about Miss Spencer’s inner leg. Or any part of her legs for that matter. There was probably a Mr Spencer who would disapprove of that. Not to mention that she shouldn’t be objectifying Rosie’s teacher.
Her mind unhelpfully replayed the scene in the supermarket. I’m sorry, I’m not looking at your legs. Hannah smiled at the clumsy comment. The blush that had risen on the teacher’s cheeks had been adorable. It had taken all her self-control to not giggle at it.
“It’s weird how we call teachers ‘mister’ and ‘miss’,” she said.
“Goes back to the old days, a mark of respect,” he said.
“True, but we still do it and many other countries don’t. I remember thinking of my teachers as not quite real people. Like they had a stage name and I knew nothing about their real life,” Hannah said. “Like, I remember all the girls in my class wondering if Mr Dingwall was married or not. Or what his first name was.”
“Yes, I remember when you found out his name was Hector. I think you and your friends laughed for about a week.”
“Hector Dingwall,” Hannah chuckled. “Whatever happened to him?”
“Died in a crash on the A218.”
Hannah’s shoulders slumped. “Thanks, Dad. Way to kill a conversation.”
“Not my fault. He did die in a crash on the A218.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I better go; it’s late and it’s a school night.”
“Of course, I just wanted to see how everything went.”
“You need to come down and see us soon, okay?” she told him.
“I know, I’m working out some dates.”
“Good, I miss you, Daddy.”
“I miss you, too.”
She hung up the call and put the phone back in her pocket. The conversation hadn’t helped her get rid her thoughts of Miss Spencer. She supposed she’d never be able to, at least not for the next school year.
She’d just have to hope that Rosie never got into any trouble that warranted her being called into the school. A smile curled at her lips at the very thought of Rosie ever getting in trouble.
Her best bet was to push thoughts of Miss Spencer aside. Yes, she was attractive, but it had to stop there. She was probably married, and even if she wasn’t, she was most likely straight.
Not to mention the fact that Hannah was in no way ready for a relationship. She could barely keep her life together, never mind think about dating anyone. She had put the whole idea on the back burner until Rosie was much older.
A small voice, which sounded suspiciously like her father’s, told her that she was being a coward. Pushing the idea of finding a partner to one side until Rosie was older was something he strongly disagreed with, but then she supposed that every parent wanted to see their adult children in a happy relationship and to have someone to lean on.
Hannah would like that, too, but she knew that the road to a relationship ran a high risk of rejection. Especially when you were a single mother with a chip on your shoulder and the entire town around you had stories from your childhood to tell whomever asked.
It was easier to remain alone.
8 NO ROOM FOR A DADDY
Alice mentally counted children as she greeted them on their way back in from lunch. They were noisy and excitable, most of them starting to come out of their shells and push the boundaries a little more.
They took their seats, and she stood silently at the front of the classroom, waiting for them to notice her and quieten down. Despite there only being twelve of them, it took a while for them to realise that she was waiting for them and to sit nicely and stop talking.
“When you come back to class,” she said, “I expect you to do so quickly and quietly. Does everyone understand?”
“Yes, Miss Spencer.”
“Good. Now, for this lesson, I need everyone to stand up and follow me.”
She enjoyed the puzzled expressions on their faces as they all stood up and looked to each other in confusion. She led her students along the corridor and down the stairs, occasionally turning to remind them to stay quiet as other classes were in session.
Downstairs, she led them to a large wooden door.
“There’s a library?” Simone asked, reading the gold-leafed lettering on the door.
“There is,” Alice confirmed. She opened the door, switched on the lights, and gestured for the children to go inside.
She’d had a brief look at the room while the children were on their lunch break. It was a reasonable size, although for some inexplicable reason it was in the middle of the building, with no windows to provide natural light.
The shelves were extremely old and made of sturdy, dark mahogany. While most of the books were outdated, the library was fairly well stocked.
She scrunched up her nose. Also, there was a strange smell, yet another interesting peculiarity the school had.
The children were looking around the room with interest. She noticed that Rosie Hall seemed particularly happy as she ran her fingers along the spines.
“Feel free to have a look around,” Alice instructed.
Sometimes it was a good idea to give the children some freedom and to walk amongst them to see what could be overheard. She wondered if it was a good time to approach Rosie. While Alice understood that she was shy, the young girl was now the only student who hadn’t spoken directly to her.
It was a delicate situation. Sometimes a shy student appreciated an approach from their teacher. Sometimes it was the wrong thing entirely and pushed the child into clamming up even more.
Alice stood near to Rosie, close enough that she could talk if she desired but also in a position that looked like she was simply watching over the class.
