Instigations

by Kiki Archer

  Janet flopped into her chair. “I know. Don’t worry Kat, it’s all sorted.”

  Kat edged back down, sitting opposite her Head of Department.

  “I took her to the pastoral facility and talked her through the process of recording her allegation, which would obviously include lots of form filling and a statement to the police.” Janet fingered her wiry cloud of grey hair. “She then told me not to worry about it, which obviously I said I had to. She had made an allegation against one of my members of staff and therefore it would need to be dealt with.” Janet looked up with tired dark eyes, this term hard been long and hard. “So once I said that, she started to back track, and told me you had held her hand and that she did not mind you holding her hand as long as it did not lead to anything else.” Janet had to ask the question. “Did you hold her hand Kat?”

  “Yes.”

  She moved uncomfortably in her seat. “Right, well I will have to file an incident report ... you know how it is ... we have to file a file about the files we have filed don’t we?!” She was getting a bit flustered.

  “Janet, I took her hand and placed it back on the table. She had been waving it around like a pistol and I was simply trying to calm her down.”

  “Oh right, okay, like I said it is fine. She does not want to take it any further.”

  Kat frowned. “And what if she did? Would I be suspended for that?”

  Janet did not know how to put this delicately. “Well, your situation, might raise extra questions.”

  Kat straightened in her seat, unsure of what Janet was insinuating.

  “Sorry, that came out wrong. Look it has been a long day, she does not want to take it any further,” she paused, “but I will make a note of what you have said about her waving her hands around like a gun - you know how it is - just to cover both of our backs, but anyway, I’m sure it will come to nothing.” She fingered her wiry hair once more. “No, I mean, it has come to nothing. Look, we all know Chianne and you are not the first member of staff she has accused of one misdemeanour or another.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway talking about your situation ... I needed to show you this.”

  Kat watched her walk over to her pigeonhole and pull something out. She tried to mentally formulate a response to Janet’s handling of the situation, not content with how it had been approached or consequently left; but any planned reply was about to be forgotten.

  Janet handed over the envelope headed Teacher Training Programme.

  Kat pulled out the letter.

  Janet smiled nervously. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

  ****

  Freya and Renee scanned the Teacher Training notice board in the corridor of the modern education building searching for their names. “Yes!” Renee pulled a fist with her fingers and did her own unique burst of the running man. “I’ve got John Taylor’s! I’ve got John Taylor’s!”

  Freya followed her finger across to her allocated school. “Holy Mother of Fuck!” she said in disbelief.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Freya had never experienced a feeling quite like it. Ten o’clock, Christmas morning, lying in the Spicer’s festive front lounge in their glorious Georgian house in the Cotswolds, surrounded by selection boxes, new books, perfume, scarves, novelty toys and several still unopened presents. She lifted her feet towards the warm glow of the crackling log fire. They were lying on an exquisitely old fashioned oriental rug that sat in front of the red and black diamond hearth. Freya had noticed the odd burn mark from where the smouldering embers had jumped out of the fire and simmered to a rest. That’s what she loved about Kat and her family, they were not precious. The rug was probably a family heirloom of great value, but instead of displaying it with pride in an area of safety, they chose instead to lay it out for everyone’s enjoyment. The section where they were lying, both flicking through their new Christmas novels, was clearly worn more than the rest. Freya pictured the number of people who may have rested there and enjoyed the warmth of a fire like this. It was crackling with heart, and Freya felt the love. She turned to Kat and whispered gently, “This morning has been perfect. I feel so at home here.”

  Kat smiled, leaned to the side and kissed her cheek tenderly. “Good, because my family love you.”

  Freya felt her heart grow and knew it was true. The very first time she met Jeremy and Gloria she had instantly felt at ease. They had come up to the apartment to take them both into town for a posh meal. Jeremy had embraced her with a whole hearted hug and Gloria had pulled her close with a two handed hand shake and kissed her cheek warmly, saying: “I feel like I know you already Freya.” The relationship between Kat and her mother was one she could only dream of. They seemed to speak almost every other day and shared a connection of mutual admiration and respect, both clearly very proud of the other. Yes, thought Freya, wrapping her arm around Kat’s waist, I am very happy here.

  The morning so far, of just Jeremy, Gloria, Kat and herself, had been very relaxed and enjoyable, but in the last half hour she had noticed an increase in Kat’s parent’s activity. It would have to be a military procedure to put on a successful Christmas dinner for twenty two guests.

  A red faced Jeremy bounded back into the festive room, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Sorry about that, I just needed to turn the bird. Come on girls, you still have our stockings to open!”

  Freya smiled at the apron just about fastened around his middle, it read: ‘I’m dreaming of a White Christmas ... and when all the White is gone I will drink all the Red.’ They had already got through one bottle of sparkly so far this morning.

  “Smells good Dad,” smiled Kat, sitting up and reaching for the two bulging pillow cases. “Really, I told you, you shouldn’t have!”

  Jeremy wiped his forehead, the kitchen was hot, the log fire was burning and he had also put the radiators on to ensure there would be no complaints about the cold. “Well, we can’t have Freya spending her first Christmas away from home without a stocking.”

  “I wasn’t expecting one stocking, let alone two.” She smiled at Kat, understanding where her generosity came from; clearly a family trait.

  “Wait for me!” Gloria dashed back into the room, potato peeler still in hand. Her complimenting apron read: ‘One wise woman beats three wise men any day!’

  Freya was in awe of the way she had been multi-tasking with the cooking, the table arrangements, and the final bits of straightening. All done in her full Christmas outfit, complete with high heels and antique pearl necklace.

  “Please, is there anything we can do to help?” Freya felt embarrassed still lounging around in her pyjamas and pink pom pom slippers. It was the third time she had asked, but their response was always the same.

  Jeremy jokingly wagged his finger. “How many times do we have to tell you girls!? Just relax and enjoy your morning ... all hell is going to break loose in about an hour when the rabble arrive!”

  “Tell me about it!” laughed Kat, opening the neck of the yellow pillow case and realising it was stuffed with screwed up balls of newspaper.

  “Keep looking,” encouraged Jeremy.

  Kat and Freya made it to the bottom of their pillow cases and both pulled out a small rectangular box. It was a gold colour, with a loose silver ribbon bow tied neatly at the top.

  “Open them together,” smiled Gloria, taking hold of her husband’s chunky hand.

  Freya looked at Kat with apprehension and untied the silver ribbon, slowly lifting the lid of her box. Kat did the same. Freya was not sure who gasped first, but she knew that she had never before seen a cheque in her name for that amount of money.

  Kat jumped up and wrapped her arms around her parent’s necks. “You shouldn’t have! You two are so naughty!”

  Jeremy’s eyes welled up with pride. “You deserve it. Go away on a nice holiday, or save it for something important.” He smiled at his daughter who was also welling up. “Just make sure you enjoy it!”

  Freya stood nervously behind the party of hugs. “
Umm, I don’t think I should really be getting one too. I feel a bit uncomf-”

  Jeremy stretched out his arms and pulled both girls back in for another Christmas morning cuddle. “Of course you should! You are part of the family now. Students always need money don’t they?! And it’s not like teachers make much, so you girls enjoy it!”

  Freya was lost for words.

  Kat took her hand. “They do this every year and we tell them not too, but if you don’t cash the cheque in he will transfer it into your bank account.”

  “And so he should,” confirmed Gloria, picking her potato peeler back up. “We are from the baby boomer generation and it’s our duty to help you girls out!” Gloria patted Jeremy’s ample behind. “Come on my husband, we need to make the stuffing and prepare the hors d’oeuvres.”

  Jeremy tightened his apron and looked at Kat and Freya. “Ladies, relax and enjoy.”

  Freya stood in shock as the pair made their way back into the steaming kitchen, shutting the latch on the panelled mahogany door and disappearing from view. She lifted her cheque to Kat and wiggled it open mouthed. “I can’t accept this.”

  Kat took her hand and guided her back to their warm spot on the oriental rug. “It’s their gift to you. They love to help, what more can I say?”

  “O.M.G.” Freya lifted the check once more to within an inch of her eyes double checking the amount. “O.M. bloody G.”

  ****

  “I really think we should stop somewhere for a coffee.” Patrick Elton glanced across at his wife who was sitting bolt upright in the passenger’s seat of their reliable Volvo Estate.

  “No Patrick! It is always good to be early.” Sue Elton pulled down her visor and checked the reflection once more. She adjusted her fake pearl necklace and used her little finger to dab some pink lipstick that had gone astray at the corner of her mouth. She glared at him out of the corner of her eye. “Will you sit up straight! Your new shirt is going to be creased. That is a Matalan best!”

  “Sue, I’m driving. This is how I sit when I’m driving.” He held the steering wheel even tighter. They did not frequently go out in the car together, but when they did it was often marred with tit for tat bickering, most of the titting and tattering coming from his wife who insisted on reminding him when a roundabout was approaching, or gasping in shock and clutching at the sides of her seats when his braking was not up to her standards.

  “Well don’t sit like that!” She pointed at a car in the distance whose brake lights had been momentarily touched. “Watch, watch, watch - that car is braking.” She glanced back at her husband’s slightly creased shirt. “You look a real mess! What will Jeremy think?” She paused, and looked at the beautiful scenery flashing past the window, not quite wanting to admit how special it actually looked on this slightly frosty Christmas morning. She asked her husband the question once more, “What should we call him?”

  Patrick sighed, checked his rear view mirror and flicked the indicator. “I’m going to call him Jeremy.” They must have had this conversation three times already.

  Sue pushed up her freshly curled brown hair. “I think it should be Doctor.” She checked herself in the mirror. “Doctor Spicer.”

  Patrick kept his indicators on and edged past the slow moving car. The traffic had actually been surprisingly quiet this morning and the few cars they did pass seemed to be full of presents, or piled high with bedding. Clearly people making their obligatory trip home to their extended families for the Christmas break. Patrick sighed. “I am not calling him Doctor Spicer.” He had been trying to drive slowly to avoid their inevitable early arrival, but had now decided an early arrival would be better than further excruciating time spent in the car with his wife.

  “Or is it Jeremy G.P?”

  Patrick hit the accelerator. “Yes Sue, call him Jeremy G.P. When they open the door say, ‘Merry Christmas Jeremy G.P’!”

  She slammed the mirror shut. “Just drive Patrick!” She had to have the final word. “And for goodness sake will you sit up straight!”

  ****

  “I’m a bit nervous,” said Kat, rolling onto her side on the worn rug. The pair were still lounging in front of the warm log fire having quickly become engrossed in their new Christmas novels.

  Freya lifted her head from her book. “About my parent’s coming?” It was the only thing spoiling her heavenly Christmas morning, the slight nagging, nervous anticipation lurking in the back of her mind.

  Kat rolled back over and lifted her bare feet to the fire. “No, I mean about what your parents will think of my family.”

  Freya frowned. “Are you serious? I’m worried about what your family will think of my parents!”

  “But you haven’t met Uncle Bart yet, or Pam!” laughed Kat, pulling Freya on top of her, “...and I know you have met Kelly, but you haven’t seen her in all of her glory, surrounded by the wonder kids!”

  “I’m sure everyone will be lovely,” Freya pecked her playfully, “but I do want to get changed before people arrive!”

  Kat tilted her head. “Hang on that sounds like a car now.”

  Freya laughed and squeezed her shoulder, “Don’t tease!”

  Kat sat up swiftly and lifted Freya with her. “No, seriously, it does.”

  ****

  “This is it!” Sue checked her reflection in the mirror for one final time. “Patrick, stop the engine!”

  Patrick looked up at the handsome Georgian country house. “Are you sure?”

  She flicked the mirror shut. “Yes of course I am.” She paused and looked pleased with herself. “I came here yesterday.”

  Patrick unfastened his seatbelt and tried to tuck in the back of his shirt. “You came to the Cotswolds yesterday did you?” He knew she had not been anywhere as she had spent the whole day complaining about how miserable Christmas Eve was without Freya.

  “Yes, on Google Earth. I zoomed right in on those lovely sash windows over there,” she pointed at the house, “and I think I saw a shadow.”

  Patrick tried not to laugh, he knew it would be taken the wrong way. “Oh right.”

  “Yes, and I researched the house. It is not a listed building but it is built in the Georgian style.” She reached into her handbag and pulled out the neatly folded piece of paper, reading it she continued, “It has five main bedrooms and four bathrooms, with three further bedrooms, a bathroom and games room on the second floor. It has a swimming pool, a tennis court and a large party barn. It has planning permission for a four bedroom house. It has paddocks and it is set in a total of fourteen acres.” She folded the piece of paper and tucked it back into her handbag. She glanced up and registered Patrick’s look of dismay. “It is always important to be prepared!”

  “For what?!” He checked the clock on the dashboard, they were over an hour early. “Come on Sue, let’s go for a little drive, we can find out a bit more about the area.”

  “No need,” she reached back into her old fashioned handbag and pulled out a selection of pamphlets. “I had the Cotswold Tourist Information Office send me some guides.” She looked up with pride. “It is the most quintessentially English area of the UK.” That was the bit she had memorised, she had to refer to the pamphlet for the next bit. “The Cotswolds is characterised by picturesque villages built of warm coloured limestone, sitting besides clear, fast flowing streams, set in a stunning landscape.”

  Patrick tried to look impressed, but failed. “Are you planning on quoting that at the dinner table?”

  “At least I won’t mumble around trying to make conversation.”

  “Is that what I do, mumble around?”

  Sue flapped her hands furiously. “Patrick! Someone is coming down that big drive! Look, he is waving at us, he wants us to pull in.” She smiled profusely at the jolly looking man in the red apron and growled at her husband like a ventriloquist, “For goodness sake Patrick, start the Volvo.”

  He nodded at the signalling arm and turned the ignition. “That must be Jeremy.”

  Sue
continued the smile and whispered between clamped teeth. “Well, I looked on Genes Reunited and found the Spicer’s family tree, but there were no photos.”

  Patrick was now the one to speak through a forced smile. “You had better be joking.”

  There was no response as Sue was already half way out of the car almost curtseying at Doctor Jeremy Spicer G.P.

  ****

  Freya straightened her pyjama top and looked out of the huge sash windows. “I specifically told them not to be early! What are they doing?” She frowned, “...and what is my mother doing?”

  Kat peeped over Freya’s shoulder. “Oh dear, your mum has gone for the double kiss.”

  “She never double kisses!”

  “Oops, well she has now ... yep, Dad was not expecting that.”

  “Shit, she just kissed his nose!” Freya stepped back from the embarrassment visible through the window. “I knew this would be a disaster!”

  Kat pulled her in for a huge cuddle and laughed. “Everyone will be on the sherry soon. It will be fine!

  “This whole thing is just going to be so cringe worthy!”

  Kat looked into her green eyes. “At least we get to spend Christmas together.”

  Freya smiled and kissed her softly. “You know what? ... I want to spend every occasion together ... forever.”

  “That can be arranged,” whispered Kat, holding Freya’s cheeks and kissing her gently.