by Archer, Kiki
Susan pulled her hands away from Jenna’s and looked at the floor. “I’m talking practicalities.”
“What?” Jenna bent her head and tried to connect with Susan’s eyes. “What do you mean? I’ve observed lessons this week. I’ve sent in my School Direct training application. I’ve written to Club Ski telling them it’s my final season.” She frowned. “How much more practical do you want me to get? Should I put a deposit on a house?” Jenna shook her head. “I don’t really want to do that as I’m hoping I can live on the school site like you. But I will if you want me to.” She paused again. “Do you want me to fly back every other weekend? Tell me what I need to do, Susan? I thought you understood. I’m in this for the long haul.”
Susan lifted her head and nodded at the latest echoing announcement. “That’s your flight and you’re not even through departures.”
“I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere until we’ve got this sorted.” Jenna moved her chair around to Susan’s side of the table. “What’s going on? You were strange in the queue, and you’re being even stranger now.”
Susan sniffed and wiped a small tear from her cheek. “It’s just too good to be true.” She lifted her eyes to Jenna’s and shook her head. “You’re too good to be true.”
“Susan! I’m not! I’m here! We’re here! We have each other! We have love!”
“But I don’t want to hold you back.”
Jenna threw her arm around Susan’s shoulder. “Susan, I’ve grown into the woman I want to be with you. You’ve not held me back. You’ve shown me the light. The possibilities.” She smiled. “You’ve shown me the future, and I can’t wait to travel the rest of time with you.”
Susan sniffed back a giggle. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re not the best with words.”
“Let me show you then,” said Jenna, leaning forwards and planting a small delicate kiss on Susan’s lips. “This is love. You feel it, right?”
Susan let out a soft moan. “I feel it.”
“So trust me. Believe I feel it too.”
Susan pulled away and shook her head. “But practicalities. I’m talking practicalities.”
“I don’t know what you mean!” gasped Jenna, quickly checking her watch.
“You should go. Please, we’ll talk later. I’m just being silly. Ignore me.”
“I’m not ignoring any of this. You need to tell me what you’re feeling.”
Susan took a deep breath. “I’ll never force you to be faithful, Jenna. We’re apart for three months and I don’t expect you to spend that time living like a nun. We’re two weeks into a brand new relationship, a relationship neither of us expected, and I guess I just want you to be sure. Really sure. I don’t want you getting tempted over there and cursing me for being that dreadful ball and chain around your ankle. I’d rather you had your final few months of freedom and then when you’re back over here we pick up properly, like a proper couple who see each other on a daily basis.”
“Why? Why would you want that?”
“Because I love you.”
Jenna smiled and shook her head. “You really are one lovable dafty, Susan Quinn.”
“And you’re one sex-crazed, Hollywood hottie, Jenna James. There’s no way I’ll be able to satisfy your needs from a thousand miles away.”
“Hmm, I think you might surprise yourself. We’ve got Skype, FaceTime, Snapchat, Dingtone—”
“But we haven’t got each other.”
“Yes we have, Susan!” Jenna reached out and placed her hand on Susan’s heart. “In here. We’re connected. I know you feel it, because I feel you feeling it too, and we’re going to be fine. We’re going to be just fine. Now kiss me like you mean it.”
Susan closed her eyes, oblivious to the hubbub around her, and lost herself in Jenna’s love. “Thank you,” she said, finally pulling away. “Thank you for being you.”
Jenna coughed and sucked on her lips. “Wow, you’re certainly getting better at these public displays of affection.” She stood up and lifted her arms to the sides. “And see, no one’s even paying us the slightest bit of attention.”
“I’m trying,” said Susan, rising from her seat. “It’s a confidence thing I guess.” Susan gasped as the two dildos rolled off her lap and bounced under the table, stopping in front of the coffee shop’s counter.
Jenna dived to the floor and grabbed them as casually as she could. “My darling,” she whispered, standing back up and passing them to Susan, “they must have dropped out.”
“Stop it,” said Susan, thrusting them under her jumper. “I’m proud of my pelvic floor.”
“Show me on Snapchat?”
“You know I have no idea what that is.”
Jenna bent down and lifted her holdall. “You’ll have fun finding out then,” she said, smiling. “Right. I’m running. Literally running.”
Susan kept hold of the bulge under her jumper and stepped forwards, gently kissing Jenna on the lips. “I love you.”
“And I love you too. We’ll be fine. Trust me.” Jenna slung her arm around Susan’s shoulder one final time. “You’re my one, Susan, and nothing and no one will ever change that.”
“Run,” said Susan, nodding towards departures.
“I’m running,” said Jenna, dashing back in for one final hug. “Are there two dildos under your jumper or are you just pleased to see me?”
“Go, you crazy lady!” ordered Susan.
“Going,” shouted Jenna, almost falling over herself as she ran towards departures. “We’ll be fine, trust me.”
“I do,” whispered Susan, gently nodding her head.
Chapter Three
Susan eased her foot off the accelerator and gently tapped the padded indicator, admiring once again how smoothly her Prius Hybrid slowed without any need for a clunky gear change or clumsy pedal action. The car had been her biggest purchase to date and she was proud of its eco-friendly, low emission rating. Not to mention the fact it did sixty miles to the gallon. A far cry from her old Suzuki Vitara passed down to her from her great aunt almost nine years ago. The boxy jeep barely got up the school drive without needing a refuel. Plus she always felt she looked like a hairdresser or drug dealer driving the thing and had been desperate to save up for a real teacher’s car from the moment she’d started working at St Wilfred’s, pleased that, after five years, she now finally looked the part.
Susan drove past the large stone sign that stood proud on the grassy mound, announcing the entrance to St Wilfred’s All-Girls School, est. 1854. The drive up to the imposing red-brick building wound the long way around the grounds, no doubt intended to make potential parents marvel at the vast expanse of school owned land. An idyllic yet stately setting for their daughters’ education. There were currently 550 girls at the school. Seventy five percent were boarders, and the rest were day girls. Susan Quinn knew them all by name, as did the fifty nine other members of staff. St Wilf’s was like that. Homely.
Susan sighed to herself. Her life was good: she enjoyed her job, she had a supportive family, her colleagues seemed to like her, and now, now she had someone special. She glanced down at the futuristic clock on the minimalistic dashboard, smiling to herself at the vision of Jenna crashing through the doors to departures.
Susan rounded a bend and noticed Bob the groundsman smiling and waving his trowel. She gently applied the brake and opened the window, gasping as the cold February air caught her off guard. “Hey, Bob,” she shouted. “It’s a bit cold for planting today, isn’t it?”
Bob stretched out the trowel to the large patch of soil behind him. “If I don’t get these bulbs in today we won’t see the school crest come spring.”
“This one’s always the best floral display,” said Susan with a smile.
“That it is. That it is.”
“Can I get someone to send you down a flask of something warm?”
Bob bent down and jammed his trowel into the soil. “Actually,” he said, shuffling down the small verge, “you could give me
some good news.”
Susan opened her window even wider and smiled at the fresh peat smell that Bob brought with him. “What’s that then?”
“Tell me that lovely lady friend of yours, Madam James, tell me she’s got the job.” Bob leaned further into the window and adjusted his flat cap. “Every day, every day I tell you, she came out to find me. Asked what I was planting. A real charmer she is. She’d be a wonderful addition to the school, and I’m thinking I should express my opinion to the new principal. Jenna said she’d like to get involved with the patterns for the floral displays. Told me she never understood how you could make pictures and words with flowers.” Bob laughed. “Was asking me how I knew which colour bulbs were which.” Bob nodded. “A great addition. A great addition I tell you. I told her she’d have to come back in the summer to see the grounds in all their glory. I do hope she gets the job. Truly I do.” He smiled. “Been nice to see you beaming too, Madam Quinn.”
“Oh, Bob, it’s Susan, and she’s Jenna, and there’s no job. She just wants to do her SDTP here.”
Bob scratched his grey sideburns. “Speak English to me. You know I hate the jargon.”
Susan discreetly turned up the heating, trying to counteract the cold air streaming into her car. “Her School Direct Training Programme. It’s a fast track scheme for experienced graduates. She’d get paid to train on site, in the classroom, and at the end of the year she’d have her NQT status.”
Bob rolled his eyes.
“She’d be a Newly Qualified Teacher. I guess then she’d have to ask if there was a full-time position available.”
“There’s always a job for family.”
“Bob, she’s not family.”
“She might be soon though, hey. She might be soon.” He grinned. “Ladies like you can marry in March.”
“I’ll bear that in mind, Bob,” said Susan, smiling.
“Or you can civil partner her right now if you want. But I’d hang on for the full shebang. You could have the reception in the Great Hall. We may be an ancient establishment, but we certainly do move with the times.” He chuckled to himself. “They even got one of the receptionists to type up all of my planting notes and display designs. Covered in soil, those things were. Covered in soil I tell you. Safe on some computer now though.” He nodded. “But I mean it, Madam Quinn, she’s a lovely lady, a lovely lady.”
Susan blew warm air onto her hands. “I’m glad you approve, Bob. Are you sure I can’t get someone to send down a flask?”
“Of course I approve. She’s a keeper that Madam James, a real keeper.” Bob pulled himself upright and nodded towards his large gardener’s trolley. “I’m sorted. Thank you though. You have a good day, Madam Quinn. You have a good day.”
Susan waited for Bob to turn away before closing her window and increasing the heat once more.
“Damn pesky weather! It’s colder here than in Morzine!” Marcus Ramsbottom had opened the passenger door of the Prius and was settling himself into the front seat. “Was old Bob bothering you again? I’ve spoken to the principal about him. I don’t like the way he talks to the girls. Always showing them his bulbs and clippings. Who knows what he’ll be showing them next. Surely he’s past his retirement age? The school needs a nice new gardener. There’s a local firm I saw advertised in the paper. Girls in the Garden. Or was it Hotties in the Hawthorn? Either way, they’d fit in much better with our young ladies.”
“Marcus. Can I help you?”
Marcus sneezed and sniffed back the drips. “You’re driving up to school aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I thought I’d partake in a lift.” He buckled himself in and sat taller in the seat. “I’ve been to see Angel again. She really does enjoy my company. It can’t be fun working day in day out with just the local riff raff for company. I think I raise the clientele in that little establishment.”
Susan touched the accelerator, silently starting the car. “Marcus, the Black Bear’s older than the school. People travel for miles to experience its authenticity.”
“Yes, but I bet they don’t know it’s actually an old coaching inn.” He pulled on his ginger moustache. “In fact, it’s the oldest working pub in the whole of Surrey.”
“That’s why they come!” Susan tutted. “What does it matter, anyway?”
“No need to get touchy just because I know more facts about our old English pub than you do. Not all of us are lucky enough to have a friend on the inside.”
Susan pressed harder on the accelerator, unable to enjoy the rows of tall evergreen trees guiding them up the picturesque drive towards the square acre of grass that lay in front of the imposing school building. The students loved the open green space, and many could be found lazing there in the warm summer months, reading, chatting, or just absorbing the moment: their moment as a student at St Wilf’s. Usually the sight of the acre, and the view of the impressive red-brick building behind it, made Susan smile in a quiet, contented, fashion, but today she simply wanted to park up and get Marcus out of the car.
“We’re living the high life, Susan,” said Marcus, flaring his nostrils with pride. “Working at St Wilfred’s is an honour. An honour that has to be earned.”
Susan turned left behind the main building and headed towards the staff car park, which was deliberately hidden from view. “People apply for the job as advertised in the TES, just like any other school.”
“But they only take the best candidates here, Susan.”
“And other schools don’t?” Susan tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Comprehensive schools employ the teacher who performs the most poorly on the day do they?”
Marcus shifted in his seat and angled his body towards Susan. “You really have got to control that little temper of yours, Susan. Us hot-blooded males like a bit of feistiness in our women, but you’re bordering on snappy.” He held the end of his nose as if he was about to sneeze again. “Yes, yes, yes … no, it’s gone.” He wiped a clear droplet from his nostril. “Oh I see! You thought I was referring to Jenna and the fact she thinks she can jump start her career here at St Wilfred’s. Where is she by the way?”
Susan spotted a parking space and started to reverse. “You know where she is, Marcus. She’s on her way back to Morzine. I’ve just dropped her off at the airport.”
“Aha! That explains it then! No wonder you’re all crotchety. What is it? The knowledge she’ll have forgotten you by the time the plane lands, or the fact you know she’s only been using you to get her School Direct training here at our prestigious establishment?”
“Marcus! She’ll be a great teacher. You saw her in assembly. The girls were fixated by her every word.”
“Only because the other lady was talking about her job in a sausage factory, and the man was talking about the excitement he has every day with data entry.” Marcus unbuckled his seatbelt and placed a hand on Susan’s knee. “Mon amie, I can forgive your little dalliance with lesbianism, and in fact I have questioned whether you initiated the whole thing to satisfy a desire you thought you saw in me. I’m your typical macho man. We have a reputation for liking a small portion of girl-on-girl action—”
“Marcus! Stop! Just stop!” Susan pulled her leg away from his podgy hand and pressed the park button, cutting all power to the car. “Jenna and I are in love. She’s finishing the season, and then yes, we do hope she’ll get her School Direct placement here, with a view to teaching here too.”
“She’s a brown-haired buxom beauty, Susan, and she’s carefree on the slopes with the rest of her kind. You know the sort, all free love and whatnot. You’re a thin-haired plain Jane who spends most of her time in the library. I mean, come on, you can’t still believe she’s attracted to you?”
Susan closed her eyes. “We’re back, Marcus. Aren’t you on duty this afternoon?”
“I love how you know my timetable, mon amie.”
“It’s Saturday. You’re always on duty on Saturday.”
Marcus grinned widely, disp
laying his small peg teeth in all their glory. “And I’m always done by seven p.m. if you fancy watching a film, or getting a bite to eat?”
“You’ve just called me a thin-haired plain Jane.”
“Only in comparison to her mane of wild ‘big hair’, and charismatically dimpled cheeks, not to mention her huge bust and slim-line ski figure.” Marcus paused for breath. “But you, Susan, you’re much more my type.”
“Marcus, I’m a lesbian.”
“You’ve been a lesbian for two weeks. That hardly constitutes you joining the nunnery. Plus it’s not like she’ll be faithful. She’ll be courting a different female’s interest every evening. Ladies like her don’t go three months without being attended to.”
“Attended to? Marcus! Please!” Susan sighed. “You need to get to your duty.”
“My mon amie, always thinking about others before thinking about herself.” He ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “Put out of your mind the thought of the flirting. Put out of your mind the knowledge of the nookie. Put out of your mind the picture of her parallel turns as she skis the slopes with her secret smile.”
“Could you get out of my car please?”
Marcus held onto the tip of his nose. “It’s coming, it’s coming, yes, yes, yes … no.” He sniffed. “So are we on for tonight?”
Susan sighed. “You’re not my type.”
“Come on then, Rita Hayworth, what’s wrong with me?”
“Marcus! Please! We’ve been through this a thousand times. We will never, ever, be a couple. Lesbianism aside.”
