by Linda Huber
‘Tell me about it. Alison, well done, and I’ll see you tomorrow at half eight. Thanks ladies.’
She stood for a moment at the door, looking round her classroom with some satisfaction. There would be a lot of tomorrows in here, just like she’d told Hailey. And what a very good feeling that was.
Chapter Seven
Jennifer turned into the coastal road and glanced across at Hailey. The little girl hadn’t spoken since saying goodbye to Miss McLure, and Jennifer gave a sigh of impatience. All she wanted was to have a happy, loving time with her child, and here she was frustrated already and Hailey hadn’t been in the car two minutes. Jennifer had been eagerly waiting to hear all about her first day at school, but now the wretched child was sitting there looking like a wet weekend. She didn’t appear at all glad to be on her way home and she certainly wasn’t bubbling over to tell her mother about her day. It was infuriating, pure and simple, and Jennifer hated feeling like this. It would be the pregnancy hormones of course but her moods were swinging all over the place. It wasn’t what she wanted from motherhood.
‘Well? What did you do this afternoon? And what did you have for lunch?’
Hailey’s voice sounded as if tears weren’t far off but her reply was prompt and the smile was back on her face when she spoke.
‘Miss McLure read us a story and then I did a drawing. It was spaghetti and meatballs for lunch.’
Jennifer nodded. ‘Very nice. I hope you managed to eat without making a mess,’ she said, turning left at the lights. ‘Did Miss McLure like your drawing? Whose was the best?’
Hailey shook her head. ‘It was just me drawing and two boys, but they were playing really. Alison was with me.’
‘Oh? What were the other children doing?’ said Jennifer, pulling into the driveway and turning to give Hailey her full attention. She didn’t much like the sound of this. Why had Hailey been working with the assistant? Wasn’t she able to keep up with her classmates? It didn’t seem like a very positive start.
‘They were playing shops,’ said Hailey. ‘I wanted to draw.’
Jennifer pursed her lips. The child had been awkward at school already. ‘Go inside. You can change into your pink dress and we’ll talk about this later.’
Hailey heaved her schoolbag out of the car and went upstairs without speaking.
Jennifer put the kettle on, wishing with all her heart that she could have something stronger. Dealing with Hailey took every bit of patience she had. And she was tired too, even though she’d been able to lie down this afternoon. She’d been constantly worrying about Hailey at school.
Teacup in one hand and the other supporting her belly, Jennifer lowered herself into the sofa. A framed photo on the bookshelf at her side caught her eye and she lifted it, smiling. There they were, the three of them, in Yorkshire. Phillip with a big proud smile on his face, Hailey aged two looking adorable in a yellow sundress, and herself in that blue silk suit they’d bought in Paris. Jennifer sipped her tea, content again. Such happy memories. She would sit here in her lovely new house with her lovely new schoolgirl and enjoy them.
Apart from the tiredness, the only downside about her life right now was that Phillip was still away, but at least when he did come home he wouldn’t need to start work straight away. He’d been a partner in a successful antiques business in Devon, and with the money he’d inherit from his grandmother he’d be able to start his own place. There would be a lot of money, and of course Phillip had already inherited a very sizable fortune from his parents. Jennifer stroked the deep blue softness of the velvet sofa cushion and smiled again. Life was going to be so good. She couldn’t wait to see Phillip’s face when he saw that she was pregnant.
Hailey slunk into the room and Jennifer sighed, replacing the photo frame on the shelf. Two-year-olds were a lot more adorable than five-year-olds, somehow. She pulled Hailey towards her and adjusted the pink dress before motioning the child to sit beside her.
‘Now, Hailey. Tell me all about you drawing while the other children were playing,’ she said, forcing herself to sound casual.
‘Miss McLure said we could choose. I wanted to draw,’ said Hailey, picking at the hem of her dress.
‘Stop fidgeting. And listen to me. You must not go off doing things by yourself,’ said Jennifer, hearing the sharp tone in her voice.
‘I wasn’t by myself. Two boys were drawing too and Alison was with me,’ said Hailey sheepishly.
Jennifer took a deep breath and made herself sound pleasant. ‘Listen very carefully, Hailey. Two things are important. One, you should join in with whatever the other children are doing. It doesn’t matter whether you want to or not, the important thing is that you don’t make yourself noticeable.’
The little girl nodded, blinking back tears, and Jennifer leaned forwards, taking hold of Hailey’s wrist. The child pressed herself back into the cushions.
‘And two, even more important, Hailey, and we’ve said this before, you must be very, very good. If you do anything silly, Miss McLure will punish you in exactly the same way as I would. Is that clear?’
Hailey nodded, her face white.
‘Good. I’m glad we understand each other,’ Jennifer said, loosening her grip on the small wrist. ‘Daddy and I want you to learn your lessons and show everyone what a nice, clever little girl you are. Now bring me your school folder and we’ll see what the homework is.’
The homework was to copy three fish and colour them in. Jennifer watched as Hailey drew unsteady lines on the worksheet, but the end result was more or less satisfactory.
‘There! Just make sure you always do as well as this,’ said Jennifer, sending the little girl upstairs with her folder. ‘Now bring me down your hairbrush.’
She relaxed back into the sofa. It was going to be more work than she’d thought, having a daughter at school. In a way things had been easier back at the farmhouse, where life had consisted of eating and learning how to behave properly. And of course the child had spent a lot of her time there asleep, too. But then, that had been down to Hailey’s magic pills. They had tamed her, she had behaved just like... well -just like Hailey.
Jennifer drummed her fingers on the arm of the sofa. Forget the bad times. They had never happened. Hailey had been there all along. The Bad Patch had made her doubt her own capabilities, but everything was fine. No-one had ever been lost.
Chapter Eight
Katie glanced at the clock above the classroom door. Ten past twelve. It was nearly time to clear up for lunch.
‘Five more minutes!’ she called, and the children groaned, bending over their paintings with frantic last minute enthusiasm.
Katie smiled, watching them. It was still only the first week, but her classroom was looking more homey by the day. Those paintings would look great on the ‘theme wall’ by the door. She had bought some plants to scatter around, and she was planning to start a fish tank as well. Amazingly, only four of her fifteen pupils had a pet at home.
‘Time to stop!’ she called, and the children groaned again.
Katie walked round the table. ‘Well done, everyone. Leave your pictures where they are to dry, please, put the water beakers on the rack, then wash your hands for lunch.’
Chairs scraped across the floor as the children carried out these tasks, chattering loudly. Katie stood in the doorway to make sure that no-one was knocked down in the rush for the cloakroom - another bonus to working here, each class had their own private cloakroom with two loos and a long, low sink. When everyone was busy washing hands or struggling out of their overalls, she turned back into the classroom.
Hailey Marshall was sitting hunched up in front of her painting, her eyes brimming with tears. Startled, Katie went back to the craft table and sat down beside her. Up until now, Hailey had done everything she’d been told on the dot, though both Katie and Nora Wilson had noticed that not only did the child rarely speak, she didn’t often make eye contact either. It was only the first week of term, of course, and some kids needed longer than others t
o settle down to school life, but still, Hailey was by far the most introverted child Katie had ever taught.
‘What’s the matter Hailey? Haven’t you finished your painting?’ she asked, putting her hand on Hailey’s head, where thin strands of dull brown hair had escaped the confines of the band. To her dismay the child immediately flinched away before shaking her head, her gaze still fixed on the table.
‘You can carry on with it this afternoon, Hailey. Lots of the others aren’t finished either. Come along and get changed now.’ She stood up and held out a hand. Hailey glanced at her, blinking the tears away. Katie saw anxiety in the child’s eyes. Anxiety, and what looked like fear. It wasn’t the sort of expression that anyone would want to see on a five-year-old face.
‘I’m wet,’ whispered Hailey.
For a brief second, Katie didn’t understand what she meant, then realisation dawned and she grimaced in sympathy.
‘Did you have an accident? Never mind, sweetie, these things happen and it’s easily put right. Let me see.’
Shivering now, Hailey stood up and displayed a large damp patch at the back of her skirt. Katie smiled reassuringly.
‘Okay, Hailey. Sit down again until I see the others off to Mrs Wilson, then I’ll give you a hand.’
She strode through to the cloakroom, where the rest of the class was almost ready. Alison was still on her lunch break, but the children would manage to take themselves along to the dining room.
Katie clapped for silence. ‘Off you go, and remember not to run in the corridor today. Julia, will you tell Mrs Wilson that Hailey will be along in a minute, please? Her skirt got wet while she was painting and I’m just going to dry her off.’
It was the truth, too, she thought. No point embarrassing poor little Hailey.
She hunted through the spare clothes box until she found a pair of knickers and a skirt that looked as if they might fit, and sent the child into the cloakroom to change.
‘It’s alright, the others think you just spilled some water,’ said Katie gently, when Hailey came back with her wet clothes in one hand. ‘Hailey, is it a problem for you, getting to the loo on time?’
Hailey stood there, her head low.
‘I know we said that you should always ask before going to the cloakroom,’ Katie said, making her voice as understanding as she could. ‘But if that’s difficult for you, then you can go without asking. Alright?’
A brief smile flickered over Hailey’s face and Katie nodded. Hailey was going to need lots of support during these first few weeks, but she’d be running around with the other kids within no time, Katie was sure. Although she reasoned it might be an idea to see what Mrs Marshall felt about her daughter’s introverted behaviour. And where had Hailey been to pre-school? Maybe she could speak to a previous teacher. She would need to have another look at the school files.
‘I’ll put your clothes in a plastic bag for you to take home,’ she said. ‘Off you go for lunch.’
Hailey’s face fell a mile and a half at the mention of plastic bags, but she turned and trotted off towards the dining room. Katie stared after her.
She turned into the school office on her way to the staffroom. The children’s files were here; she had seen them all before term started, but now that she could put names and faces together it might be a good idea to look at some of them again. It wasn’t only Hailey’s introversion that needed an explanation, there was Derek and his stutter - perhaps there had been a speech therapy report about that.
The secretary, Beverley, produced both files, and Katie flicked through them. There was all the information she could possibly want about the five years of Derek’s life, including a speech report, but Hailey’s file seemed on the thin side.
‘Can I take them with me?’ she said, and Beverley nodded.
‘Sure. Just don’t take them home.’
After school that afternoon, Katie went out to have a quick word with Hailey’s mother about the wet clothes episode. Mrs Marshall was standing by her car with Graeme’s mum, who was chatting away in a deep, posh voice. When Katie approached with the plastic bag and Hailey in an over-large skirt, the other mother very obviously grasped the significance of what had happened, grimaced sympathetically at Mrs Marshall and melted away with her son.
Katie smiled at Hailey’s mother, whose face had turned slightly pink. She seemed to accept Katie’s assurances that this wasn’t at all uncommon at the start of the school year and Hailey was in no way to blame. With a thin smile and a ‘Thank you, that’s very kind’, Mrs Marshall opened the car door for Hailey.
Katie watched the BMW drive off. The more she saw of Hailey’s mother the more intimidating the woman seemed, which might well explain Hailey’s reaction.
Back at her desk, Katie opened Hailey’s file. The child had been given a cancellation place just three weeks before term started. Hailey didn’t appear to have attended preschool or nursery education anywhere, in fact apart from the registration form, the only other documents were a copy of her birth certificate, and a doctor’s certificate signed just last week. Katie saw that it was noted Hailey’s father was away, and so all contact would be through the child’s mother. It all looked rather rushed. What with Mrs Marshall being pregnant, and an absent father, Katie could see that Hailey had a lot to cope with at the moment.
‘Katie! How’s things?’
Mark was standing in the doorway, and Katie grinned at him. According to his lunchtime report, his class of nine-year olds was rapidly losing their awe of their first male teacher. Mark looked more tired every time she saw him.
‘We’re fine,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Spent a long time painting today, so the walls are looking less bare.’
Mark came in and wandered over to where Katie and the children had pinned up fifteen child-like works of art that afternoon.
‘Seascapes,’ he said, gazing at the blue and green waves and splashes.
‘This term’s theme is The Ocean. I’m taking them beachcombing on Monday, if the weather is okay.’
‘Sounds good,’ said Mark. ‘I’ve got a sea life poster, if that would help.’
‘Thanks, I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. I’m planning to start a fish tank, too - not that that has much to do with our sea project.’
‘I have a better idea if you want something oceanic,’ he said, looking at her. ‘There’s a brilliant seafood restaurant just this side of Polpayne. Let’s go there for a meal sometime. My treat.’
Katie hesitated. She definitely wasn’t looking for any kind of romantic involvement with a colleague. On the other hand, three days’ experience of Mark in the staffroom had taught her that he was both funny and friendly. One meal couldn’t hurt.
‘Great idea, but we go Dutch,’ she said firmly. ‘And as colleagues.’
‘Colleagues and friends,’ he said, equally firmly. ‘I’ll book a table for tomorrow night, how’s that?’
Katie agreed, and Mark gave her a quick grin before leaving the classroom. She packed her things and jogged across the car park, looking at the space where Mrs Marshall usually parked.
Smiling at the contrast between her own little Clio and the Marshalls’ BMW, Katie drove towards Polpayne. She could hear breakers crashing up the beach below, and sniffed appreciatively as a fresh, tangy smell floated into the car. It had turned into a real wild weather day, the sea was going mad down there.
Stopping for the lights at the harbour, she sat watching as a gangly youth pasted a new poster in the bus shelter. The image he was covering was tattered and ripped, a little girl laughing into the camera. Katie recognised her as the child who’d drowned near Newquay that summer, a beautiful little girl with tangled dark hair. Have you seen Olivia Granger? was printed in thick black lettering above the photo. The boy smoothed an advertisement for an insurance company into place, and the little girl vanished.
Soberly, Katie put the car into gear as the lights changed. No child deserved to die like that.
And now she was off to the pet sho
p to find out about fish tanks. The day’s work wasn’t done yet.
Chapter Nine
Jennifer lay in bed as the dimness outside gave way to early-morning sunshine. The delicate flowery pattern on the curtains that matched the bedspread grew lighter, and she gazed around her. It was a beautiful room, but she should really have been asleep at this time of the morning. It was only half past six and here she was, awake for the day. The babies she was carrying were early risers - or one of them was, anyway.
Jennifer stroked her extended tummy. Not long to go now. She’d been to the antenatal clinic yesterday and Dr Rosen had assured her that everything was going well. Both babies were well-developed, and all they needed to do now was grow. Jennifer turned on her other side, feeling the babies roll and squirm before settling down again.
There was no reason to get up yet. She had set Hailey’s alarm to go off at seven, and after oversleeping just once since school started, her daughter had become a good riser. Jennifer relaxed into her favourite daydream.
Mother of three, in spite of the Black Patch. The world had looked like a black and white film then, colourless, jerky, the sound distorted. But that was all over now.
If only she wasn’t so alone here. Of course Phillip was close to his Gran so it was only natural that he’d want to be with her in the last weeks of her life. What they hadn’t known was that the old lady would linger so long, and LA was too far away for him to pop back and forth. It was a no-win situation for Jennifer. If she told Phillip about the babies he’d be on the first plane home, but then her beautiful surprise would be ruined. She wanted to see for herself the expression on his face when he realised that he was to be a father again. She would just have to wait. He’d only been away ten weeks, which was nothing really. The surprises would be a comfort to Phillip when Gran died, and a little extra time to improve Hailey’s behaviour would only be an advantage.
A frown creased Jennifer’s brow. That stupid child had brought wet clothes home from school two days running now.
