by Kiki Archer
Bea edged her way in and sat intimidatingly close to Kat. ‘Please at any point tell me to go away and stop bothering you, but I could do with some advice.’
Kat took a nervous sip of her fast depleting drink. ‘Of course, I can’t promise it will be the right advice, but I will be honest.’
‘I am in love with Freya.’
Kat’s stomach lurched, she felt winded, ‘Freya Elton?’
‘Yes, the same Freya.’
Kat had to concentrate, what did she mean the same Freya? She tried to focus. ‘Ok, does she know how you feel?’
Bea was looking at Kat’s blue eyes trying to gauge their reaction but she couldn’t catch them. ‘Yes, well sort of.’
Kat tried to ignore the deep pain she felt in her wounded chest and concentrate on the issue at hand. ‘Ok and what does she think?’
‘I think she is scared, I think she is confused,’ Bea pinned Kat’s eyes with her own; ‘I think she is infatuated with you.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ laughed Kat nervously trying to sip some more spritzer, it had all gone.
She paused, ‘...Ok, well I think she is definitely curious but is struggling to come to terms with it and I think you are the only person she would talk to, she idolises you.’
Kat felt incredibly uncomfortable. ‘Look, it is not my place to get involved.’
Bea didn’t reply.
Once again Kat felt the pull of her duty of care. ‘How do you feel?’
‘I feel like I have found my soul mate, like we were made for one another. She is just so funny and smart and caring and feisty and beautiful; Freya is beautiful.’
‘I know.’
Bea shrugged her shoulders and bit her bottom lip. ‘I just don’t know what to do. I told her over a month ago that I liked her and things have just been a bit weird with us. Sometimes I think she feels it to.’
Kat’s stomach lurched again.
‘But other times I don’t know what she is thinking. I don’t want to spoil what we have got but I also want more, I want her.’
Kat felt decidedly queasy, what could she say? What other option did she have? ‘Tell her how you feel. Tell her the things you love about her.’
Bea began to glow, ‘I love everything, the way she strokes her earlobe when she is thinking, the way she chews her pen when she is writing, the way she laughs, the way she smiles, the way she is kind, the way she cares, the way she listens, just everything. She is just incredible. I have never met anyone quite like her before.’
Kat was hurting, she had seen the same things, been drawn to the same things and wanted to cherish the same things privately to herself.
‘Spritzers ladies!’ sang Lucy.
‘Oh thanks, but I better go. Thanks Miss, you have made things a lot clearer for me.’
Lucy guzzled one glass thirstily, waiting for the beauty queen to finally disappear into the pumping bass of the Dance room. ‘What the bloody hell is going on? Was she talking about your Freya? Is your Freya here?’
‘Oh Lucy,’ muttered Kat with her head in hands.
Freya watched as Bea walked across the dance floor, she was so incredibly sexy. She had passionate brown eyes that looked smoky with desire and her long layered hair swayed as her hourglass figure passed easily through the maze of dancers. Freya realised she was stunning and felt her eyes drawn to the rise and fall of her chest as she gently approached. She stopped at making a comparison to Kat - Kat was unique and Bea was – well, Bea was holding her waist and pulling her close and pressing her ear against her own. They swayed with the music, everyone else was moving in double time; Freya let herself go. She let Bea’s fingers climb her open back, climb her neck and hold her head and she responded when Bea’s tongue teased her own, her lips pressing harder and their bodies moving closer; chests pushed passionately together.
Kat stood immobile and watched with pain, a kiss of passion, a kiss of desire; a kiss that could never be hers.
Freya drew Bea close and opened her eyes, watching in sheer agony the torturous vision of Kat turning to walk out of the club.
Chapter 15
Kat resolved that the kiss she witnessed was a blessing in disguise. Her heart was now back where it belonged and her head was fully resuming of duties. Yes it had hurt at the time but it had also shocked her back to reality - what on earth had seen been doing entertaining such ridiculous thoughts about a student? She viewed it as a narrow escape, a lack of judgement that potentially could have ruined her whole career. She was free, she was safe and Beyonce’s Best Thing I Never Had was topping the most played list on her iPod. But when Freya had presented her with a Christmas gift on the penultimate week of term her heart revived to life and she ached once again. Kat had received a huge number of Christmas presents, many from her Year Seven tutor group who were yet to realise that the primary school tradition of mum’s buying presents for teachers wasn’t really replicated at the big school. However Kat had received gifts from students across all years and couldn’t refuse when Freya knocked on her blue classroom door at the start of Friday’s lunch and presented her with a pretty box wrapped in deep purple delicate tissue paper, complete with black bow.
Freya had shut the door quietly and walked towards the large wooden teachers desk smiling as she drew the gift from behind her back.
‘Oh Freya you shouldn’t have.’
‘Are you going to open it?’
‘Should I?’ Kat leant back from the desk she loved, the sight of Freya a wonderful reprieve from her monotonous marking.
Freya’s green eyes sparkled with anticipation, ‘Please’
She carefully pulled off the bow and gently drew open the deep purple tissue paper as she glanced up at the expectant eyes, ‘You really shouldn’t have.’
‘Just open it,’ she urged smiling.
Kat peeled back the wrapping to reveal the familiar white and gold box with large jagged purple writing. ‘My perfume? Freya, I know how expensive this is!’ Kat felt uncomfortable, ‘I can’t accept this; this is too much.’
‘Well I can’t start wearing it because then you really will think I am a stalker!’ she laughed pulling up a chair.
Kat paused questioning her meaning, ‘You have never given me the slightest impression that you are a stalker!’ She studied the box, then tried to hand it back, ‘I just think this is too much.’ Freya was not accepting so she put the perfume down and picked up the pink doily, ‘Look I got a hand knitted tea cosy from David Haverley’s mum, three boxes of After Eights, two teddies, and an I love you Miss mug from Davey Jakes,’ Kat was pointing at the gifts scattered across her desk, testament to her popularity, ‘but this Freya, nothing like this.’
‘I was sprayed in Debenhams and I knew instantly that it was yours,’ not quite true, it had taken over two hours of toxic inhalation and every available area of free skin to finally find the scent; Kat’s scent in it’s beautiful purple bottle. ‘It is yours isn’t it?’ She knew it was.
Kat smiled inside, ‘Yes, it’s my favourite. This means a lot, thank you.’
‘Does it?’ she paused, ‘mean a lot I mean?’ Freya held Kat’s eyes and the gaze was charged with emotional tension.
Kat looked away, ‘Yes all of my gifts do. It touches me every time I receive something from a student, I don’t like people spending their money on me, but it is the thought and the time the person has used going to the effort to arrange one that means the most. It staggers me really. But actually saying that a lot of the boys aren’t quite sure what it is their mum has brought until I open it!’
Freya looked deep into her blue eyes, they were smiling with warmth. ‘People really love you Kat.’
‘Thank you.’ She felt strange being addressed so openly but touched by Freya’s sentiment she let it go. The conversation flowed and they chatted for most of lunch about the circus of Activities Week that was to take the whole school off timetable in the final four days before the Christmas break. It was meant to be an incentive to combat the horrific beh
aviour that seemed to occur in most lessons at the end of term. Year groups were taken on different day trips and a variety of activities were put on in school with staff having little choice of their allocated whereabouts, cursing those ending up with Alton Towers and Drayton Manor, but laughing when they saw Pity and Mews stuck on Year Nine Arts and Crafts day. Kat had a mixed bag, a Sixth Form spa day at Cross Hall the highlight, a Year Seven puberty workshop the lowlight.
Freya was chatting enthusiastically, ‘So you don’t have to pay?’
‘No it’s great. I have heard it is lovely.’ Kat leant back in her wooden chair, she was not high enough on the teacher ladder to warrant a budget spend on a leather swivel. ‘I really need some R and R.’ She was enjoying the carefree chat, but debating where to take it. ‘How much did it cost you?’
‘Thirty pounds for the day spa, but it is worth every penny, I went last year.’ Freya closed her eyes and sighed at the memory, ‘It is just so luxurious.’ She snapped back into the room as a thought occurred to her, ‘Who else is going? I hope it’s not Miss Pity, she came last year and got a colonic!’
‘Freya!’ She laughed, ‘Well Harley is the only boy to have opted for it over Go-Karting so Mr Puller has been told he needs to come along and I think Miss Pity and Miss Mews have it on their schedule as well.’ A staff list had been clearly displayed in the staffroom with shrieks of injustice against poor Kathy from Cover who always failed to appease everyone. ‘I am really looking forward to it.’ She looked up at Freya’s beautiful face, marvelling at her natural charisma and confidence.
‘Yes me too,’ she smiled, absolutely thrilled at the thought of sharing such a girly day with Kat.
‘Hey and Freya,’ Kat spoke as Freya slowly made her way to the door, ‘thanks for the chat, and the gift, how could I forget the gift! Seriously thank you, it means a lot.’
‘No worries, I’m glad you like it.’
She paused and dropped her gaze to the wooden desk, ‘I’m sorry we missed each other last Friday.’
Freya rushed back and pulled her plastic seat back closer to Kat’s, ‘We didn’t though did we?’ She leant in with an earnest desire to actually have a conversation of meaning.
The blue door flew open and its metal handle crashed noisily against the gray battered filing cabinet, causing them to jump, lean back and look guilty.
‘I thought I saw you,’ flared Fiona Mews, her long black ponytail still swinging with the force of her entry. ‘There are to be no teachers alone in the classroom with a single pupil when the door is closed. Standard procedure Miss Spicer,’ she snapped, ‘standard procedure!’
‘Excuse me Miss Mews but could you please leave my classroom, I am in the middle of something very important.’ Kat spoke calmly and with confidence, who the hell did Fiona think she was?
‘Yes it looks like it,’ she flared looking down her long nose, alluding to the expensive bottle of perfume and dainty purple wrapping paper laid out on the desk. ‘I think this needs to be passed on.’ She marched briskly from the room and the noise of her heels echoed down the empty lunchtime corridor.
Freya sat open mouthed, ‘Is she for real?’
‘It seems like it,’ sighed Kat, ‘look don’t worry about it, ridiculous rules that don’t help anybody. Did you realise that PE teachers are not allowed to put plasters on children anymore? The crying girl who has fallen over and grazed her knee on the netball court is not permitted a hug or a hand up and certainly not a plaster on her knee. It is just ridiculous.’ She was getting flustered, ‘It is not as if any harm is done with the door closed. I mean what on earth does she think might be going on?’
Freya watched Kat messing with her blue biro, tapping the nib, flicking it round, tapping the end, flicking it round, she wasn’t looking at her. ‘You have nothing to worry about because nothing is going on ... is it?’
‘No exactly,’ said Kat quickly affirming her position.
‘Ok, so no worries then.’ Freya spoke quietly, got up slowly and turned to leave.
Kat looked up and watched her beautiful wavy chestnut hair swaying as she walked silently from the room, pausing for a second as if to return and say the unsaid, relief and disappointment conflicting for Kat as the stride continued through the door.
Chapter 16
Kat inhaled deeply as she walked out of the safety of the private Cross Hall changing rooms and through the grand entrance to the main vitality pool. She composed herself and thought of Lucy. Kat had been hit by sheer panic the previous evening when Ben produced with pride his new pair of long orange surf shorts.
‘This ought to do it!’ he had grinned at Lucy, ‘Don’t want those randy Sixth Form girls seeing Mr Long!’
Lucy had made some ridiculous comment as Kat dashed to her wardrobe; it hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was going to pack her bag in the morning, throw in her swimsuit and towel and enjoy a much needed spa day. She would be able to relax completely as she realised - as had the other lucky staff members - that there would be absolutely no need to supervise the twenty sensible young adults; gold star for Kathy from Cover.
Kat had walked barefoot across the polished lounge floor, ‘Honest opinion.’
‘Bloody hell Spicer! Where have you been hiding that?!’
‘What?’ Kat had started to shiver.
‘The body Spicer, the body! Check it out!’
Lucy had bashed Ben across the chest, ‘Don’t touch what you can’t afford matey!’
‘I’m not touching her?!’
‘You know what I mean.’ She eyed Kat who stood in her gorgeous black bikini, its last outing being their fantastic girls’ holiday to Crete. ‘Kat you look fab! What’s the problem?’
Kat continued to explain that she had simply assumed she had a swimsuit, but when it came to actually thinking about locating it, she realised she had not been the owner of a swimsuit for over five years.
So now as Kat passed under the large cream pillars and entered the luxurious spa room complete with its heated stone loungers, salt water vitality pool and soothing mood music, she stood tall and thought of the alternatives -Jess’s off black, slightly bobbly swimsuit, which was ridiculously baggy around the middle but chaffing in length, or Lucy’s all in one swim outfit that covered ankle to wrist, with swimming cap optional. Ben and Lucy had both agreed it was Kat’s perfectly reasonable, but slightly revealing, black beach bikini that won the hilarious, somewhat embarrassing, fashion show.
‘F-wit, F-woo!’ Harley sat up from his lounger, lifted his sunglasses and winked at her; the room was indoors and enclosed, ‘Looking good Miss!’
She had deliberately taken her time changing, hoping the Sixth Formers would have scattered to the saunas, steam rooms, jacuzzis or treatment rooms, but most were lying around the pool on curved stone sun loungers with their iPod’s beating, trying to catch an impossible tan.
She felt the force of Ben’s body racing towards her, lifting her from the bottom and charging her into the vitality pool. They splashed into the warm water shrieking with childish giggles, much to the annoyance of Diane Pity and Fiona Mews who were on the receiving end of their explosive splash.
Ben wiped his face and bobbed in the soothing water, ‘Thought I’d give you a helping hand, you looked a bit lost!’
‘Well it saved me having to decide whether to take the steps or attempt a dive!’ She smiled and flicked her wet hair. ‘My plan is to stay in the pool, have my massage at half eleven and then just sit in the jacuzzi all afternoon with my book.’
Ben watched as she eyed the Sixth Formers nervously, ‘You have nothing to worry about. No one is looking at you.’
He was right; looking around she could see girls lying on the gloriously comfortable stone loungers chatting quietly, others making their way into the steam rooms and Harley declaring he was off for his mud wrap.
‘What are you so worried about?’
She looked down at her cleavage, ‘I am just so self conscious, it’s hardly appropriate a teacher in a bik
ini.’
‘Oh don’t be daft! Look at Diane!’
They bounced gently to the edge of the water and peeped over the side of the pool. ‘Exactly, she looks great!’ Diane was sat on a cushioned wicker chair wearing a very plain black swimming costume.
‘Watch this.’ Ben bobbed up and gave a shout, ‘Miss Pity I think I just heard them call you for your first treatment.’
Diane scowled and leant forward to check the huge silent clock partially hidden by fake green hanging vines. ‘It’s not till ten,’ she huffed returning to her trashy gossip magazine.
Ben bobbed up again, ‘Yes definitely, they called you.’
‘Oh for goodness sake,’ spat Diane standing up and marching out of the room, revealing two large wobbling buttock cheeks separated by a tiny unfortunate piece of black string.
‘Bloody hell!’ said Kat in disbelief.
‘I thought you didn’t swear!’
‘I don’t!’ laughed Kat slowly sinking back under the gloriously calming water.
Diane hadn’t minded the false alarm, clearly Ben’s way of having another look at her perfect behind, and now with wonder girl being a dirty lesbo she knew it would only be a matter of time for Perfect Puller to make his move; a few more struts up and down the pool and he would be begging for it. ‘Must be your mistake,’ she purred as she edged her way down the steps and into the pool, buttock first. Ben had nowhere to look.
Diane glanced at Kat, devastated that she looked so sensational, ‘Miss Spicer.’
Kat smiled warmly as she bobbed gently up and down, ‘Hi Diane, how are you?’
She pointed at Freya sat in the bubbling jacuzzi and sneered, ‘Your special friend is all on her own over there; why don’t you go and join her?’
Ben grabbed Kat’s hand under the water, ‘Yeah, come on I fancy those massage jets!’ He bounced quickly down the pool, getting as far away from the costume devouring buttock cheeks as he could.
Freya smiled when they entered the jacuzzi, not just because Kat looked incredible - although that was the main reason - or because Mr Puller was being mischievous about Miss Pity’s choice of swimwear, but because she felt lonely; she had not spoken to Bea for over a week. She had been debating the situation as the giggling pair entered the bubbly circle and her thoughts immediately shifted paths. The three of them talked about all sorts of things as if they were old friends and laughed loudly at the experience brought by each new bubble cycle and altered degree of jet pressure. Mr Puller was being incredibly rude, much to their amusement, and Kat was being Kat – funny, warm and interested. This gave her the confidence to assume she understood; she understood that Bea had initiated it.
