Nicky noticed that his face showed blank surprise before polite interest.
‘Ah,’ he said simply. ‘The plot thickens.’
They wandered down to the staffroom together in silence. Then they wished each other luck and Rob left for his meeting with Miss James. Nicky had thirty minutes to wait before her meeting, and in that time she did some preparation for tomorrow’s lessons, walking past the after-club room on her way to the photocopier. On her way back up the stairs, she glanced in to see if any of her new children were in there.
She only spotted two. The boy who had been fidgeting in assembly and the girl he’d sat with his back to all day. Oscar and Daisy, she said to herself, practising their names. They were playing chess. She watched them for a moment before the boy, Oscar, spotted her. She smiled at him through the door, but he had already looked back down at the chess set.
2
OSCAR FROWNED AT the chessboard. If he wasn’t very much mistaken, Daisy had won. If he moved the rook, she would take his pawn and checkmate him. He glanced up at the clock over the classroom door and suddenly saw, standing outside, a mad woman, her hair wild, staring right at him. He looked down quickly, before realising who it was. After a moment, he looked up at the clock again. Miss Hobbs had gone. Only half an hour to go before his dad picked him up. He started swinging his legs. If he kept stalling, Daisy wouldn’t get to play her next move and it would be a draw. Could he hang on for that long? He put his chin in his hand and looked up at Daisy. She was looking out of the window.
‘My dad’s coming in half an hour,’ he said.
She turned to look at him. ‘So’s my mum.’
‘Yeah, but your mum doesn’t drive a red sports car.’
Daisy shrugged.
‘I get to sit in the front,’ he continued.
She shrugged again.
‘Your mum only has an old Renault.’
Daisy’s lips pursed like one of the Tweenies. ‘Play your next move now, or I’ve won.’
‘That’s not fair! Cheat.’
Oscar’s mobile phone rang Greenday’s ‘American Idiot’ then beeped. He flicked it open.
‘It’s my dad!’ he exclaimed, and read the text, his head so low his chin touched his chest, his feet hitting the table legs.
‘Play your next move now or I’ve won!’ repeated Daisy, firmly.
Oscar suddenly jumped up and walloped the chessboard which made her, and all the pieces, jerk up in the air.
‘I don’t care about your stupid chess game!’ he cried, and ran out of the room.
Miss Gregory looked up from her marking.
‘Daisy, what just happened?’ she asked.
Tears pricked Daisy’s eyes. ‘He ruined our chess game,’ she said, ‘because I was winning.’
Nicky sat down in front of the Headmistress’s desk, while Miss James frowned at some notes in front of her. Eventually Miss James looked up from her notes and took her glasses off her nose. She twinkled across her messy desk at Nicky and leant her elbows on the Vesuvius of papers between them.
‘How was your first day?’ she asked, her voice honey-thick.
‘Great, thanks,’ said Nicky, nodding and smiling. ‘It’s good to be back.’
‘Ah, that’s what I like to hear,’ said Miss James enthusiastically. ‘You do have wonderful optimism. It’s a fantastic quality. I was telling my mother about you last night – you know I tell my mother everything.’ She winked. ‘And my mother said there is no substitute for optimism when it comes to teaching Year 6.’
‘Thank you.’ Nicky smiled. Everyone knew that Miss James lived with her mother, a fantastic eighty-year-old who used to be Headmistress at one of the country’s top private schools. How many bosses would confide in you so unguardedly about how much they rated you?
‘So, my dear,’ continued Miss James, ‘I have decided. That’s just what Heatheringdown needs in a new Deputy Head. Optimism.’
Nicky swallowed.
Miss James gave her a slow smile. ‘I’m not interested in making you jump through hoops, though goodness knows the governors want me to. I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, so the sooner this is sorted the better. So. We’re going to get round the boring legal technicalities by saying it’s a temporary staffing position – which, who knows?’ She shrugged her shoulders right up to her ears. ‘It might be! So get comfortable in the role and we’ll make a decision at a later date. It also gives me a chance to see you in the job.’ Miss James flashed her a quick wink. Nicky stared blankly back at her and Miss James suddenly went serious. ‘I know you’re up to the job,’ she told her simply. ‘The question is do you know you’re up to the job?’
Before Nicky processed this question, she smiled and nodded vigorously. This was no time for thinking.
‘It would mean a lot more work,’ continued Miss James, increasingly grave. ‘As you know, Miss Fotheringham was busy all the time.’
Nicky nodded again.
‘But because you are our much respected Year 6 teacher, not a reception teacher, I know that you can’t possibly have the same amount of time as Miss Fotheringham did. And that is why I have instigated a brave new world order!’ Miss James sat back from her desk. ‘You and young Mr Pattison are to be my Joint Deputy Heads.’
‘Oh!’ Nicky felt instantly hard done by, then ashamed, and then excited. She gave what she hoped was a confident, optimistic smile. ‘I’m absolutely delighted,’ she said. ‘I can assure you that you won’t regret your decision.’
Miss James leant across her mound of papers.
‘I know I won’t, my dear. I have every faith. Now!’ She held up her finger. ‘This is all hush-hush until I announce it to the rest of the staff in a few days’ time, after the glorious Janet has finished all the relevant paperwork. So! No gossiping!’
Nicky nodded. ‘No gossiping,’ she repeated.
‘Good girl,’ said Miss James. She stood up, straightened her long skirt, and held out her hand to shake Nicky’s. ‘Congratulations, my dear. You deserve it.’
Nicky raced into the staffroom. Rob was still there. They both screamed and fell into a full-body hug, before Nicky drew away quickly, suddenly embarrassed by such close physical contact. She hadn’t hugged Rob for seven years. Goodness only knew how much bigger her stomach was now.
‘Congratulations, Nix,’ said Rob quietly. ‘You’ve done so well!’
She looked up at him. ‘Well, so have you,’ she returned, leaning back slightly.
‘Thanks,’ he said, ‘but you know what I mean.’
‘No. What?’ She wasn’t sure if she’d heard him correctly.
‘Well, it’s different for blokes,’ he said, with an offhand shrug.
She stared at him for a moment and moved away from him. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing! It’s just . . . well, it’s more expected for men to be career-driven than for women, so it’s easier for us to do well. That’s all.’
‘Easier or more fitting?’ she asked dryly. ‘So what exactly are you saying?’ She couldn’t help the hardness in her voice, despite her widening smile. ‘That I must be a battleaxe to be this successful?’
‘What?’ cried Rob. ‘Where d’you get that from? Blimey! Defensive or what?’
She forced a smile. ‘I’m not defensive,’ she explained. ‘It’s just that me being a woman seems to be something you’re more conscious of than me, that’s all.’
‘Of course it is!’ he laughed. ‘I’m a bloke.’
‘So tell me,’ she pressed on, ‘would you feel able to pay the same sort of compliment to a black colleague who’d done as well as you, just because they were black?’
‘Jesus Christ!’ breathed Rob. ‘That’s the last time I try to pay you a compliment!’
‘Why do you need to pay me compliments?’ she asked. ‘I don’t need them any more than you do. Or do you think Ido because I’m a little girlie?’
‘Right,’ said Rob suddenly. ‘Shut up with all this feminist shit and listen to m
e. All I was trying to say,’ he explained, ‘is that we all know that it’s still much harder for women to do as well as men. And you’ve beaten a lot of men to get this far. So you’ve done fantastically.’
She took a moment to let this sink in and then grinned stupidly. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Yeah, maybe you’re right. Sorry about that.’ She allowed herself to bask in the moment. ‘I have done really well, haven’t I?’
‘Too right. You should be proud of yourself.’
She smiled and nodded. ‘I am. Thanks.’
They started to pack away their things in a mutually contented silence.
‘You know,’ he said suddenly, ‘sometimes I can’t believe you’re the same person you were when we went out with each other.’
Nicky’s whole body temperature shot up. ‘How do you mean?’ she managed, her eyes still on her packing.
‘Well, back then you were fixated on becoming a mum, weren’t you? Nothing else mattered. I was convinced that by now you’d have three kids, with another on the way.’
Nicky tried to laugh, but only managed a rather lame honking noise.
‘I remember,’ he said. ‘I’ve never told you this, have I? I couldn’t believe you didn’t try to talk me out of finishing with you. I was so convinced you’d just change your mind about kids that I didn’t even have a back-up plan.’
Nicky gasped.
‘I know!’ he chuckled. ‘Arrogant or what? But I just couldn’t believe you could be that determined about your future so young.’
‘You mean . . . you didn’t really want to finish with me?’ she almost whispered.
He shook his head, with a friendly grin on his face.
‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Not for one second. Came out of your place in complete shock. And I’d tried every trick in the book – crying, declaring undying love, blah blah blah. But you were absolutely determined. Like a . . . like a rock. It was amazing. I’d never seen anything like it before. It was as if . . .’ he mused for a moment, ‘nothing was going to stop you getting your dream.’ His voice went serious. ‘You’re a really strong woman, Nicky.’
Nicky went weak.
‘I think I’m over it now though,’ he said in mock seriousness, his hand on heart. ‘And the pity shags I got for it were blinding.’
She let out another laugh. This one sounded more like a dog in a mixer. ‘Aaah!’ she sighed eventually. ‘Sweet!’
‘Yeah, well,’ he said, ‘I think it all turned out for the best in the end, didn’t it!’
‘I think so!’
‘But now look at you!’ he said, in warm wonder. ‘You’ve harnessed all that amazing strength and determination and turned it right round in completely the opposite direction. You couldn’t have had a more different life from the one you’d planned then.’
Nicky’s stomach went into free-fall. If Rob had just shoved her out of a moving plane he couldn’t have created a more jolting physical reaction.
‘You’re an inspiration,’ he was now saying. ‘You know what you want and you don’t let anything – or anyone – get in the way.’
She was completely unable to reply. Partly because she didn’t even know what the cliché response was to such a statement let alone the genuine one, partly because the Nicky he was describing was nothing like her and she’d always assumed he knew her better than anyone, partly because she was still in shock from discovering he had never really intended to finish with her all those years ago and their whole history might have been different had she reacted differently, and partly because, physically, it still felt like she was free-falling out of a moving aeroplane.
‘By the way.’ He broke the lengthy silence with a soft, light tone. ‘Do you mind if I ask you a question?’
She shook her head. It was all she could manage. In the light of all she’d just been told she was amazed it didn’t just loll to one side.
‘It’s a bit sensitive.’
She touched the table next to her for balance.
‘Well, you see . . .’ he went on, ‘what I sometimes find myself wondering, late at night, is . . .’ he paused, and it was only when Nicky came over a bit dizzy that she remembered to breathe, ‘when did you change your mind about having kids?’
Her lower jaw now proceeded to follow her stomach. She stared in utter amazement up at Rob, and his open, honest look of enquiry was so unforced she had to remind herself he hadn’t just asked her the time. After a while she turned her thoughts to the social aspect of conversation and began to construct an answer. After a longer while, she plumped for, ‘Well, um . . . you see, actually, I don’t see it as such an “either/or” thing.’
He frowned gently. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Career or motherhood,’ she explained. ‘I don’t see them as mutually exclusive.’
He nodded thoughtfully for a bit. ‘You mean,’ he said slowly, ‘you still want kids?’
‘Of course!’
‘Oh!’ He shook his head in wonder. ‘I see!’
‘Well, what did you think?’
He shrugged. ‘Well, I just assumed you’d changed your mind about it all. You know, come to your senses!’ He laughed abruptly. ‘Because you hadn’t had any.’
There was a long pause.
‘It doesn’t really work like that,’ she said shortly.
‘What doesn’t?’
‘Life.’
There was a long pause.
‘Oh, right,’ he said, ‘I see. No. I suppose it doesn’t.’
He nodded slowly while Nicky tried to sort out her thoughts, only to conclude that she was so confused she could barely remember her name.
‘Mind you,’ Rob started again, his tone friendly and light, ‘it’s worked out best in the end, hasn’t it?’
‘What has?’ she asked.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘you probably wouldn’t have just come out of an interview with Miss James about the Deputy post if there was a hubby at home wanting his dinner and three screaming kids needing help with their homework.’
The back of her eyes and nose suddenly went all prickly. ‘Oh, I’m sure Miss James would have managed to see me at a different time,’ she said, with forced sweetness. ‘I didn’t get the impression that if I couldn’t make four o’clock I wouldn’t be up to the job.’
He laughed loudly. ‘You’re absolutely right. Touché! And anyway, when you start a family late there’s more money in the pot, so you’ll be able to do nurseries or nannies.’
Nicky was so shocked that she exploded into laughter. Then, just when she’d acclimatised herself to this fact, it turned into crying. Not endearing, feminine, coy little sniffles, but big, fat, racking sobs that convulsed her body. She turned away from him.
‘What? What? What?’ he asked.
She shook her head.
‘What the hell did I say?’ came Rob’s baffled voice from behind her.
‘Nothing,’ she sniffed. ‘Nothing. It’s just been a long day.’
‘Hey, hey!’ he murmured. ‘I thought that was a good thing.’
She nodded. ‘Yes,’ she managed. ‘It’s brilliant.’
‘Please, Nicky! Shit! Forgive me! The last thing I want to do is upset you.’
‘You haven’t upset me,’ she sniffed. ‘I’m just tired and emotional.’
‘Husshh,’ he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She shoved him away and fished for a tissue in her pocket. Why did tears make people treat you like a five-year-old when usually they meant something grown-up was going on inside?
‘Just ignore me,’ he continued. ‘Forget everything I said.’
‘OK,’ she said. ‘Done.’
‘And remember, your career’s got a shelf-life on it, but you can have kids whenever. After all, there’s no state retirement from kids, is there?’
She turned to him. ‘Will you shut up about kids!’ she cried. ‘Anyone would think you’re obsessed with them.’
‘Ah, yes,’ he allowed, somewhat sheepishly. ‘You spotted that. Well . . . you know . . . a b
loke gets to a certain age and looks at life very differently.’
There was a long pause.
‘Really?’ she asked weakly.
‘Yeah,’ he said seriously. ‘Really.’
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You mean, like, you don’t think children would make perfect, moving tables for your pint?’
He laughed.
‘Right,’ she said, suddenly desperate to get away. ‘I’m going home. By the way, I know we’re not meant to dicuss it with everyone, but what shall we tell the others?’
‘Ally and Pete? Dunno.’ He paused. ‘That we’re better than them?’
She hit him on the arm. He hit her back. Then she roughly wiped her eyeliner off her cheeks. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I have to get home and prepare for tomorrow.’
‘Attagirl,’ said Rob, and pretend-punched her on the shoulder.
She punched him back. ‘Piss off, Prattison,’ she said, a bit snuffily.
It was amazing how effective the cold water in the Ladies could be. If Nicky ever needed ice, she should remember to come here. After a thorough face wash, she was as good as new, except with no feeling in her fingertips. Ten minutes later she walked across the playground to the car park, repeating Miss James’s words, forcing herself not to give Rob’s words a moment’s thought. How would the other teachers take the news? Ned? He’d been here for ten years. Gwen and Roberta both had children to support. Ah well, she thought, trying to push any guilt out of her mind and to focus only on the good. They obviously weren’t as good as her at their job. She knew she was good. She wondered what would happen if Miss James retired. Could she actually become Head one day? Was it possible to be a sexy, eligible headmistress? Would it, in fact, make her more sexy and eligible? Would the offers come pouring in and before she knew it she’d be a headmistress and a mother of three? Hah! That would show Rob and his ‘change your mind’ garbage.
As she walked out of the school an echo rang out across the playground, interrupting her thoughts, and she looked behind her to the main gate to see if a passing teenager was vandalising the entrance. She was surprised to see a young boy – possibly one of the school’s pupils – standing on the pavement, head down, hitting the gate with a cricket bat. She watched as he regularly, if rather forlornly, smacked each iron rail of the gate.
The Learning Curve Page 4
