The Cornish Village School - Summer Love (Cornish Village School series Book 3)

by Kitty Wilson

  ‘Do I need it before breaktime?’

  ‘No. No, not at all.’

  ‘Then I’ll nip over and grab it at break time, if it’s nothing major.’ As she spoke Kam looked like he was about to argue but suddenly his focus switched.

  ‘Billy! What do you think you’re doing?’

  Pippa turned to see what Kam was staring at. Billy, who was by the art supplies ready for his activity, was wearing a whole heap of paint. It was yellow and currently pouring down his head, onto his shoulders and over his aertex shirt. His classmates surrounded him, aghast and silent all apart from Ellie who had a very bad case of the giggles.

  ‘I’m Cornwall! I’m sand and sunshine and ice cream,’ Billy shouted, as Pippa dove across the classroom grabbing some green paper towels on the way. Kam raced her to it, both of them trying not to laugh as they attempted to wrap the child in aprons and lift him out of the classroom and into the shower they had installed for children with additional needs, and this sort of thing.

  * * *

  At breaktime Pippa headed to the staffroom and stopped by Sheila’s desk, which was constantly overflowing with bits of paper, paperclips, piles of post-it notes and records of achievement. It looked terrifying, a mountain of paper and blue files that could topple at any moment.

  ‘Are you alright under there? Can I bring you a cup of tea and a biscuit?’

  Sheila popped up, glasses resting wonkily on her nose.

  ‘Lynne’s baby – Piran, they’ve decided upon – is doing really well, you know, although the poor woman has got mastitis. I said to her, “You think that’s bad? Wait until he starts getting teeth.” Bless his little face.’

  ‘Oh, um. Okay. Tea? Oh, and did Kam leave some papers here? Something for me possibly?’ Pippa adored Sheila, but she did have some odd ideas about what was alright to share. However, she made a mental note to check in on Lynne later.

  ‘That would be lovely. And yes, somewhere. Give me a sec.’

  Pippa watched her move pile onto pile, off of one pile and to the side. It was like primary paperwork version of Find the Lady. Pippa thought she may get dizzy just looking at it.

  ‘Any second now.’ Sheila smiled up at her, adjusted her glasses with her finger and went back to super speed shuffling.

  ‘I’ll go put the kettle on for a minute then.’

  ‘Okay, dear…’ Pippa turned to head to the staffroom. ‘Hold on, is this what you’re looking for? Sheila was somehow now standing directly behind Pippa, as if she had teleportation powers, and thrust a small sheaf of papers under her nose. ‘This?’

  Pippa glanced down at the papers. It was Kam’s new literacy plan, a project he had taken on to breathe a bit of extra life into… Well, it was all very exciting and so forth, but Pippa wasn’t quite sure why Kam had been getting hot and bothered by it. Yup, there on the corner of the top sheet was her name so this must have been what he was talking about.

  Smiling a thank you, she headed to get tea whilst wondering if the yellow paint under her nails would stay with her for life.

  * * *

  That was quite a day!

  Oh yes, Billy is a monster, but how can you not love him?

  Relatively easily. You should have seen his mum’s face at pick up.

  I saw her dragging him from the playground. She had a face like thunder.

  There was a long pause as Pippa watched the moving dots appear indicating Kam was typing. Then they stopped and started again. And stopped. It took about ten minutes before the next message came through.

  Did you get to read it?

  Really? She knew Kam had put quite a lot of work into the phonics package but was he sitting there nibbling his nails whilst she read it? It seemed unlikely, but if he wanted reassurance that she had read it and paid attention, that she could do.

  Yes, I read it when I got home.

  There was no immediate answer and she found herself nodding off as sleep began to curl its drowsy fingers around her. Just as she drifted off, her phone pinged again. She reached her hand out, her eyes bleary, to read the message.

  And? What do you think?

  What did she think? Right now, all she could think of was how her pillow and duvet were emitting a call to sleep. She tapped out what she hoped was a supportive reply…

  Great, you obviously put loads of work into it. Well done.

  …and fell fast asleep, the phone still in her hand.

  Chapter Forty

  The remainder of summer term had whizzed by, but Pippa had not enjoyed it as much as she normally would have. Yes, there had been lots of trips to the beach, even more to Penmenna Hall, and the glamour of corralling small children whilst being filmed. Lots of the lessons were taken outside, which was Pippa’s favourite thing, with the school field and the playgrounds being commandeered as teaching spaces and the classroom itself smelled permanently of sun cream.

  But despite the term being as fun packed as usual, something had happened in the classroom and she was more than a little bit broken-hearted. After that first day, Kam had withdrawn into himself. No longer did they banter back and forth, no longer did he try and catch her eye and make silly faces, or mutter appalling jokes under his breath. Instead, he had become very remote, closed off.

  He hadn’t put a foot out of place, he was still utterly professional, and very kind, but the spark they had once had, had disappeared.

  Poof! Gone.

  She alternated between furious and sad.

  Heart sad.

  She had thought he wasn’t like other people, had been convinced that what they had between them was special, the stuff of romantic dreams, the we’re-in-this-together-forever feel. She had thought that they could pause things until they no longer shared a classroom and then work on building a life together, or try to. She had put aside all her fears about her future and tried to do as others had suggested and take the leap. But no, it turned out that once he had got into her pants he was no longer interested, and everything she had wanted to avoid had come true.

  She had tried every way she could think of to fix it, but he always had an excuse at the ready these days, a reason for not spending time together after school. And what was worse, no one else seemed to notice the fractured nature of their friendship. If they had, they weren’t discussing it with Pippa, who had taken to ranting at Lottie every evening, the only other person who knew the truth of what had happened.

  Today, however, had been a great day. She and Rosy had been helping the children put the finishing touches to the fish and boats and mermaids sculpted out of wire and paper, that they had made for the torchlight carnival that took place on the Thursday night of Feast Week. Laughter had been boinging around the class all day, finishing with Ellie insisting that the cat she had made, complete with whiskers and a boat shaped hat was in fact a sea lion and that no one in Penmenna knew what they were talking about.

  But that was part of the problem: now she enjoyed her days far more when Rosy was teaching than when Kam was in charge. She dreaded the days he was in, when it seemed her poor judgement was rubbed in her face as the air no longer crackled with the excitement of unresolved sexual tension but was spattered with misunderstanding, hurt feelings and incomprehension. Or at least on her part – she had no idea what was going on in Kam’s head. That was a swamp she couldn’t wade through. The only explanation that made any sense was that he was a bit of a twat, and that in itself didn’t – couldn’t – ring true.

  She put her key in the front door, relieved to be home and planning to slide early into her pyjamas and shut out the world for a bit. Half way up the stairs to the flat she stopped as she heard a scuffling noise.

  What on earth could that be? Lottie was still working in the shop downstairs. She really hoped it wasn’t the dormice on the mantlepiece coming back to life and tap dancing across the living room floor.

  She crept up the rest of the stairs, half wishing it wasn’t summer so she would at least have an umbrella to hand. Instead she’d have to re
ly on her natural survival skills. If it was a burglar she’d scream, go for the balls followed by the eyes and then peg it back down the stairs to the shop.

  As she hit the top step she heard a woman’s voice ring out. It was her mother. How had she not guessed? Of course it was. Now she knew who was upstairs, her heartbeat slowed and she relaxed, her shoulders slumping back into their natural position. She was about to push open the door to the flat when she caught specific words.

  ‘…it’s not just your boy; something has changed. She’s so despondent these days. I haven’t known her like this since she was a teenager. It did cross my mind it was regret over James…’ Her mother paused and was clearly receiving short shrift for such an idea from whoever was on the other end of the phone. Pippa couldn’t identify it – she was behind the door after all – but even with such a barrier she could still make out some kind of squawking. Hopefully it was a squawker with more common sense than her mum, who was currently declaring that ‘We’re going to have to do something…’

  Pippa had heard enough. The last thing she needed was her mother getting involved again, and roping others in. It was time to stop this right now.

  ‘Hello, Mum! What are you’re doing here?’ Pippa burst into the kitchen in the same way she used to stealth-attack Pete when they were kids. It would seem that the pleasure in kapowing the door open and watching someone’s mouth drop open in surprise didn’t dim with age. It being her mother’s mouth brought an extra special joy as, apart from anything else, it temporarily stopped her from speaking.

  But only temporarily.

  ‘Ah, Ge… I’m going to have to go. Pippa’s home. Let’s talk tomorrow.’

  ‘So?’ Pippa arched her eyebrow at her mother and for fun put her hand on her hip. Her mum sat at her kitchen table with phone in hand and shock all over her face, an expression that soon turned to mild martyrdom as if she had been misjudged yet again and was doing nothing wrong.

  ‘Hello, love.’ She got to her feet, gave Pippa a peck on the cheek and sat down again. ‘Did you know you have a dead squirrel in your fridge? I don’t really know where to begin. I thought I had taugh—’

  ‘Yes, it’s Lottie you need to subject to your talk on hygiene, disease and germs riddling your system. At the end of the day, it is her home. But nice try. Now, what are you doing here? As much as I love you, I’ve talked to you about this before. You can’t just let yourself in. What if I had someone, you know, here.’ Pippa waggled her eyebrows to make her meaning clear without being inappropriately explicit.

  ‘Well, if you had, I wouldn’t have needed to make these, would I?’ Jan pushed forward the inevitable plastic container, full of Raspberry Bakewell biscuits, the raspberries forming the shape of happy faces. They were her favourite biscuits, and her mother’s good intent, and the fact that she had picked up on Pippa’s recent downturn in mood, made her heart squidge. Her mum might be irritating, constantly bloody present and way too involved but all was born from love. Pippa knew she was so lucky to have that. Not everyone did. Poor Sylvie had lost her mum just over a year ago, and Alice’s was an absolute nightmare, although thankfully lived on the other side of the world.

  ‘Come on then, you’ve clearly popped the kettle on. I guess I should join you and make some inroads with those biscuits.’

  Pippa drew a chair out and sat down to talk to her mum.

  Jan waited until Pippa had her mouth full of biscuits before she asked the question she had clearly been dying to ask.

  ‘So, how’s work? You and Kam still getting on very well?’

  Pippa may have had a mouthful of crumbs but managed to fix her mother with a look that spoke volumes.

  ‘I’m not interfering, love. It’s just a question. You seem low, and have done for a while now. Plus, your dad said when you were at the Feast Week planning meeting the two of you took great efforts not to sit together. Now, I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but I’m not completely daft, Here, have another biscuit and then tell me what is going on with you.’

  ‘Nothing. We’re not joined at the hip you know? I don’t know what Dad was talking about. These are good though, Mum, maybe one more.’

  ‘Good, take that one. It’s been sprinkled with truth serum and then you can answer my question again. I know you think I’m just interfering, but that’s my job.’

  ‘Mmm, maybe when I was six…’ mumbled Pippa through a mouthful of almonds and raspberries.

  ‘And now too. So, come on, what’s going on?’

  ‘Oh my goodness, Mum, nothing! Nothing is happening between Kam and me.’ Pippa declared stoutly. And that was the truth. Absolutely nothing. They worked together, and now the magic was lost. Every now and again, the two of them would get caught up in the moment in the classroom, and a flicker of their old friendship would return and then it kind of fizzled out with awkwardness, feeble excuses and moving apart.

  Pippa had even tried to invite him out for friendly drinks, where she was hoping to get him to loosen up a bit so she could address what on earth had gone wrong between the two of them. But when she had invited him out to The Smuggler’s Curse, reiterating that it was for platonic drinks, he had refused her invitation.

  ‘Hey, you’re off on a daydream. Are you really trying to tell me that you and Kam have not had a fall out and that’s not what’s upsetting you? Because my mother senses are tingling like mad and we both know my mumma senses are never wrong!’

  ‘No! We’re not children. We haven’t fallen out at playtime and will make up before the home bell. It’s a professional working relationship and that’s it. Nothing has gone wrong. Can we talk about something else please?’

  Pippa got up to rinse out the mug her mother had used. There was no way on earth she’d admit she had slept with him and he had then frozen her out. She could feel Jan watching her as she took out a J-cloth, sprayed the worktop and wiped it down. Hard.

  She could almost hear the cogs turning in Jan’s head.

  ‘There you are. That’s better.’

  ‘Oh love.’ Her mum’s tone was so chock full of sympathy that Pippa was scared she might well up. She quickly decided to switch tack and divert her mother’s attention, otherwise Jan would be like a terrier with a rat, sympathy or not.

  ‘Have you heard the latest about Marion?’

  ‘What has she done now?’

  ‘Nothing. But you asked me to keep an eye and…’

  ‘Oh no! What’s happened?’ Jan’s mouth dropped open and her eyes scrunched up. She and Marion may not see eye to eye, but her mum wouldn’t wish harm on anyone. ‘Did that woman from the May Fayre mount a proper rebellion? Tell me it’s that and not more bad news about her marriage.’

  ‘No, it’s not school stuff I’m afraid, although Alison has resigned from the PTA and is spending a lot of time talking loudly about how Ashleigh is excelling in Sylvie’s ballet class. It’s driving Marion mad as she couldn’t get her boys in. All quite amusing, but no, not that. Nothing solid but…’

  ‘The boys are alright, aren’t they?’

  ‘Dear me, yes. I think those three could probably survive Armageddon.’

  ‘I suspect they may well herald it in.’

  Pippa giggled at her mother’s naughtiness. Subject changed successfully.

  ‘So…?’

  ‘It’s just those whispers about her marriage seem to be gaining traction and you said yourself things weren’t looking good.’

  ‘Yes, and then Richard came swanning in and put the rumours to rest that night.’

  ‘Yep, but not well enough apparently. He’s been very absent again the last few weeks and it’s all started up again. The playground is abuzz with rumour and Marion is looking far from her usual self. Mind you, now now I feel bad, like I’m gossiping without knowing anything concrete.’

  ‘I’m your mother. You’re not gossiping. You’re passing on important village news, still rumours are horrid. Poor Marion.’

  ‘And you know how they snowball in a community like this. I’v
e tried to be kind to her, redress the balance but you know what she’s like: she just looks at me as if I’m dirt and sweeps by to talk to someone – anyone – else.’

  ‘I don’t like the woman but I don’t wish her ill.’ Jan reached for another biscuit, ‘Do you think there’s any truth in it?’

  ‘I hope not. Whatever you say about her, her dedication to her family is evident. I think it would destroy her if that tumbled apart. But you know, Kam and I did see Richard Marksharp creeping out of some woman’s flat in the new apartment block in Treporth Bay, at gone three in the morn—’ Pippa stopped midsentence as she realised she had relaxed far too much as her mother’s eyes lit up.

  ‘And what were you—’

  ‘Nothing!

  ‘At three o’clock in the morning? I’d say you were definitely doing something!’

  ‘Eurgghh… nothing, nothing, nothing!’ And Pippa and wondered if the day would ever come when she’d be able to get something past her mother.

  Chapter Forty-one

  Kam couldn’t believe the last week of term had come around so quickly, with term ending on the Thursday, this was his final day at Penmenna. His initial feelings about the school had proven right: he had felt honoured to get the temporary position and was now waiting to see if he had been offered the permanent one after Rosy had invited him to interview. He felt the other interviews he had been to had gone well, but it was this one – despite his disappointment over Pippa’s response to his letter, or lack of it – that he really wanted. Rosy had promised everyone would be informed whether they had been successful or not by today, and she was like a clam around the school. He found it impossible to call based on her behaviour towards him since the interview for the Class Two job had taken place last week.