Perhaps.... Perhaps

by Dale, Lindy

  ‘That’s rubbish, Brookie says you yell all the time. I’m going to report you.’ Mrs Barker got out her Blackberry and, ignoring Flora, made a note to herself, probably to go home, sharpen her carving knives and ring her lawyer.

  Flora began to panic. The woman clearly had a vendetta. There had to be something she could do to stop her. ‘Is there any other reason why Brooke might not want to come to school?’ she asked, nibbling the inside of her lip.

  ‘You don’t extend him. He’s bored! And he’s very upset that he hasn’t been put into the ‘Rabbits’ group for reading, you know.’

  Flora took a tiny breathe of relief. Was that it? That old bone again? Confident that she had all the assessments needed to prove her stance, she spoke. ‘Well, he was tested with all the other children, Mrs Barker, and according to our results, though he is above average, he is not a candidate for the extension program at this time.’

  ‘That’s because you pick on him. He can’t express himself.’

  Flora could take no more. ‘As I’ve already said, Mrs Barker, your son is bright and very enthusiastic but needs to channel his enthusiasm, to use it in a productive way. If I appear hard on him, it’s because I can see his potential and I want him to achieve it.’ Surely, she’d respond to that. Turn a negative into a positive.

  ‘No you don’t. You’re a bully. I’m going to make a formal complaint, beginning with Mr McDermott and then the Education Office. I want you suspended.’ She typed into her Blackberry again. ‘Believe me, when I’ve finished with you, you’ll wish you’d become a shop assistant.’ And with that Mrs Barker picked up her handbag and stomped from the room with as much ferocity as a woman who weighed almost thirty seven kilos could muster.

  Flora sat for a moment and considered the interview. It had not been good. And though she reassured herself that the things Edwina Barker said were not true, that she did not have grounds for a complaint, the voice of doubt niggled in her mind. Standing, she wandered around the classroom straightening a chair here, picking up the odd pencil and placing it on a desk. What if she lost her job? What would she do?

  Chapter 11

  Flora put her head around the door of the Staffroom. Nobody was there and she wasn’t surprised. It was well after four so most of the staff had gone home for the day. Dejected, she headed to the bench and pulled a tissue from the box. Why had she let Mrs Barker get to her? She had been so calm, so controlled at the onset. Even after tyring so hard, she had still been a pushover. It was the whole ‘all the parents hate you’ comment that had been the turning point. There was only so much a girl could take of that. Even if, deep down, she knew it wasn’t true, it brought all those insecurities about her past to the forefront. If her mother had liked her, she never would have left. If the kids at school had like her, she wouldn’t have spent every lunchtime reading a book or helping the teachers. Now, Mrs Barker would make a complaint and nobody would ever listen to her side of the story. Parents were, after all the ones who paid the exorbitant fees. Flora’s teaching days were sure to be numbered.

  Taking off her glasses, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose, stuffing the used tissue in her sleeve. Then, hit by a moment of clarity, she realised what she’d done. That cow, she thought as she pulled the scrunched up tissue out and tossed it in the bin. She’s messed with my head so much I’m even forgetting about hygiene. Tissues were dirty, disgusting things. You couldn’t stuff them up your sleeve or leave them on a bench. Tissues bred all sorts of nasty bugs. Now she felt doubly awful. An annoying tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away.

  ‘Is everything alright, Flora?’

  Flora swung to see Luke’s tall form filling the doorway. His arms were piled high with heavy policy documents and he’d nudged the door open with his knee. Walking to the table, he set them down with a thud.

  If only I could duck my head under the sink for a minute and dry my eyes, Flora thought. But she couldn’t, not with Luke standing there, all sensual and manly and looking at her questioningly.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she sniffed, wiping her eyes and taking in the flex of Luke’s muscles against his shirt. ‘Just an irate parent.’ Couldn’t she even manage to feel sorry for herself without thoughts of him intruding? What was wrong with her? She wasn’t shallow when it came to men. She hadn’t had enough experience with them to get that far.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  Flora shook her head and took another tissue to blow her nose again. ‘I’ll be fine, Luke.’ She wasn’t one for letting her vulnerable side show. Feelings were best kept under wraps. That way you couldn’t get hurt.

  Luke was staring, his brown eyes probing. Suddenly, he picked up the pile of files, gesturing down the hall, ‘Come into my office. We shouldn’t talk here.’

  Oh, and talking, alone, in his office would be such a better idea! Especially if someone saw them. Alone. After school. In his office. Knowing it was a treacherous pool of desire she was diving into, just being close to him, Flora picked up her things and followed, her feet falling into step behind him. She could always tell him to leave the door open, she decided as she raced along behind him. Then everything would be above board. He would think her some kind of crazy but everything would be professional.

  ****

  Luke’s office was not the stuff of House and Garden magazines and Flora was glad she had had little cause to enter it before. The walls were a sort of dirty creamish-grey that looked like they hadn’t said hello to a paintbrush in a good while. A faded print containing some flowers and fruit was stuck in the middle of one wall while an old timber bookshelf leant against the other. He had obviously been given an ‘interim’ office by Miriam. Heaven forbid that he should be allowed to use the real Principal’s rooms. Miriam had her eye on those.

  ‘Excuse the surroundings, I don’t usually let people in here,’ Luke said, looking somewhat uncomfortable. He put the files down on the corner of the desk and walked back to close the door behind them.

  Nervously, though she didn’t know why, Flora watched him, attempting some form of normality. His lips were squeezed together and he gave her a tight grin.

  ‘So…’ His eyes were on the door. Maybe he was regretting shutting it. Maybe he had realised how dreadful she looked after her sobbing episode and had decided he wanted to escape. Maybe he thought Ugly Betty was a better prospect.

  ‘So…’ Flora swallowed.

  Luke leant back on the side of the desk, handing Flora a box of tissues. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘Take as many as you need.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Flora gave him a wan smile.

  ‘What happened?’

  His deep brown eyes studied her as she folded and unfolded the proffered tissues finally putting them into her pocket. His voice was soft and sympathetic, not the Luke she saw in the staffroom every day, or the stiff standoffish, professional Mr McDermott. This was the Luke who had walked her home. The very attractive, very sexy, Mc Dreamy-slash-I am-so-gorgeous Luke. Desperately, Flora tried to dispel the wave of desire engulfing her as the words slid from on his lips. It was all she could do not to imagine them in a kiss. It was materialising in her mind, banishing her tears into exile.

  ‘It’s Mrs Barker,’ she mumbled. And with the mere mention of that name the floodgates opened and all the helplessness she’d been hiding sprung to the surface. She blubbered like a baby. ‘She’s been on my case all year. She said she’s going to put in a formal complaint about me. She’s going straight to Miriam. What am I going to do?’

  Luke frowned and Flora cried some more. ‘Does she have any legitimate reason for her concerns?’ Luckily, one of them had his mind on the job. Flora was floundering.

  ‘No!’ She sobbed even harder.

  ‘I had to ask.’ Luke took a step towards her. Cautiously, he placed a hand on her arm. Flora tingled. It made her think dirty things that she knew she shouldn’t but on the upside she wasn’t crying as much, just weeping and sniffing a little. ‘Please don’t cry Flora. I’m sure it ca
n’t be as bad as all that.’

  ‘Oh, but it is, that woman is psychologically imbalanced. She’s a piranha.’ Mindless, she flung herself against his shirt as the weeping began anew.

  Luke stiffened and, after a few seconds, his arms wound around her in comfort. He held her, as she buried herself in the coolness of his shirt and breathed in the freshness of the fabric softener and the scent of his aftershave.

  If only, she thought. If only. Her shoulders heaved and her nose dripped against the cloth.

  ‘The other parents call her The Barracuda, you know,’ she snivelled.

  Luke smiled. She could see he wanted to laugh, but being the professional he was, he held himself in check.

  ‘With good reason I’m sure,’ he replied, squeezing her a fraction tighter. Gently, his hands spread across her back, rubbing. Then, his eyes were delving into hers. Her heart began to pound in her ears as his head lowered and the imaginary kiss moved perilously close to becoming a reality.

  The phone rang.

  Like a guilty schoolgirl, Flora leapt from Luke’s arms, banging her thigh into the corner of his desk as he turned away to answer it.

  ‘Shit,’ she gasped, rubbing at the spot. Shit. Shit. Shit. That had been close. For the second time in as many weeks, the opportunity had been there for the kiss and he had meant to kiss her, she was sure. But what were they thinking? He was her boss. Mrs Barker forgotten, she waited for the call to be over.

  Finally, Luke put down the receiver. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said, moving to the side of his desk and scribbling something on a sticky note. His face had changed and his body was rigid, pole rigid. The moment had gone. The only kiss was the one in her imagination, her rather over active imagination.

  Luke cleared his throat. ‘I shouldn’t have behaved like that. I wouldn’t want you to think I lure female staff into my office under false pretences. It was very unprofessional of me. It won’t happen again. From now on we’ll just be friends.’

  ‘Friends would be nice,’ Flora mumbled, her face frozen with embarrassment.

  ‘Are you going to be alright?’

  Her throat felt tight. ‘I’m fine. I’ll deal with it.’

  In silence, she stepped outside and closed the office door behind her, leaning against it. Sighing, she straightened her shirt and hair and blew her nose, yet again. She was not fine. A sick feeling was spreading to the pit of her stomach and wasn’t because she knew, now, that Luke would never kiss her. It was because she had just seen a pair of beige trousers and a flash of strawberry blonde hair disappearing around the corner of the corridor. Flora was doomed.

  ****

  At 1am that night, just as the cat next door had hopped onto the boundary fence to sing his nightly chorus, the phone rang. Eyes clouded with sleep, Flora fumbled to pick up the receiver in the darkness. Phone calls after midnight made her nervous. They always spelt trouble. ‘Hello?’ she croaked.

  PJ was crying. ‘Did I wake you?’

  Flora peered at the fluorescent numbers on the clock. ‘It’s the middle of the night, Peej.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Flora waited. There was clearly some extraordinary purpose to the call.

  ‘I….I just. Well, I’m a bit freaked out that’s all.’

  Flora stopped. ‘Freaked out’ and PJ were three words that did not belong together. ‘Why? What happened?’

  ‘I heard a noise and I got up ‘cause I thought it was Lou, forgotten her key again. Then I remembered that she’s at her Grandma Celia’s tonight. The lounge room window was open, Flora. Someone was trying to break in. I must have disturbed them.’

  Flora sprang up in bed. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Positive. I pushed the window shut before I went to bed because the fly screen is broken and the bloody flies get in. It shits me when they buzz around in the night.’

  Flora smiled into the phone. It was just like PJ to be blaming this on flies. ‘Did you call the Police?’

  ‘Yes, but there’s not a great deal they can do. Nothing’s missing as far as I can tell. Who would do such a thing, Flora? This is a nice area. We don’t have criminals.’

  Flora’s brow drew together. She didn’t want to say what she was thinking. They were both silent for a moment.

  ‘Dylan and I had an argument earlier,’ PJ revealed.

  Flora remained silent.

  ‘He wanted to borrow money from my trust for some investment thing and when I told him I couldn’t access such a large amount without the permission of my solicitor, he got angry.’

  ‘Oh Peej.’

  ‘He accused me of lying. When I said it was true about the trust, that he could ring Roger himself and ask him, he wouldn’t listen. He said if I had been a better girlfriend he wouldn’t have had to ask twice, I would have given him the money.’

  ‘You’re a brilliant girlfriend!’ Flora said. ‘Don’t listen to him.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘I know so! He’s a control freak.’

  ‘But his family are so well connected… and, well….. I love him.’

  Oh for Pete’s sake, what could she say to that? ‘Well, if that’s the case, I’m booking you in for hair extensions, first thing in the morning. We may have to put up with Dylan a while longer but there’s no way I can suffer that haircut a second more. You look like you should be running for Federal parliament.’

  PJ giggled, the mood lifted. ‘Flora! Seriously, what are they teaching you at those dance classes? First Mrs Barker and now me - you’re positively assertive.’

  ‘Sorry, I was trying to make a joke.’

  ‘Don’t be. I like this new improved version of you.’

  Chapter 12

  Firmly resigned to her role as friend and colleague, Flora spent the entirety of the next week without so much as a smile in her direction from Luke. The agony of having him near and knowing she would never touch him, was excruciating, added to which she now believed he was avoiding her. It didn’t matter that she had vowed never to engage in a liaison with him. He had barely spoken two words since the office episode. What was the point of displaying her assertive side? Why had she tried to flirt? Luke was so hot and cold; she had no idea what to do next. In her usual independent way, Flora had tried to control the desperation she felt by spending two lunch hours reconfiguring all the storage cupboards in her classroom. Even that proved pointless. She was now so organised even she couldn’t follow the new system and the children couldn’t find the textas. It took two long afternoons after school to restore order.

  But there was light at the end of the tunnel. To discuss the events of the week and celebrate the fact that it was the weekend, PJ had organised a table at Miso, the girls’ favourite Japanese restaurant, the following evening. After the fight between them, PJ was keen to make it up to him, though Flora would have much preferred it if he fell over a cliff or at least crawled back to his puddle of slime somewhere. She didn’t like what he had said to PJ about money and she didn’t want to spend an evening watching him put PJ down.

  ‘Please forgive him, Flower, he didn’t mean it. He’s apologised so many times, it’s unbelievable,’ PJ whispered, as they sat in a corner of the staffroom. Personally, Flora thought the only unbelievable thing would be if the toad were sincere.

  ‘He says things without thinking, he doesn’t mean it. It’s his home life. His parents are shocking role models.’

  Flora listened. It was dreadful that PJ justified his bad behaviour. Was she still so smitten that she couldn’t see he was an utter arsehole? ‘What about the other night? The break in?’

  ‘It wasn’t him. I asked him straight out, which put him in an even worse mood by the way, and he assured me he wouldn’t bother. If he wanted to get in he would use the front door. He already has a key.’

  ‘Then who?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ Louise added ‘the only thing we found missing was a photo of us all. You know, the one that was on the console in the hall.’

  Flora frowned. Why w
ould an intruder want a picture of them?

  ‘So it’s just us girls and Dylan, then?’ she asked, changing the subject.

  ‘Jake’s coming too,’ Louise replied. She was close to her brother, their births being separated by only eleven months they were more like twins.

  ‘Why?’ Flora slumped into her seat. She hoped this wasn’t another setup. In the past Louise had had thoughts that he might take a fancy to Flora but nothing had ever eventuated. He had decided to travel before settling to a sedentary life. If Jake was going to take the piss out of her all night, she couldn’t handle it, not after Luke’s declaration.

  ‘He’s coming to make up the numbers….. I’m bringing a date,’ Louise said. Flora could see her waiting for a comment but she wasn’t going to go there. Louise had a knack of attracting men who were devastatingly good looking and usually controversial. She liked to shock. It was a given.

  ****

  Miso was a traditional Japanese restaurant. It was the type of quiet and ordered environment Flora adored. Thin paper walls segregated the room, creating intimate spaces for the long, low tables. With pit-like areas underneath for feet, they were a slightly odd but successful compromise. Western diners felt like they were at tables and the Japanese were still on the floor. Everything at Miso was painted in crisp black and white – very calm, very serene, very zen. The silent waitresses wore dark kimonos and glided around the tables, materialising and disappearing before you knew they’d been there and attending to the customers every whim with a calm unflappability that could only be Japanese. But Flora enjoyed the food most of all, and had been salivating all week at the very thought of the vegetable tempura they served. All those bite-sized nibbles, tastefully cut and dipped in batter, were so appealing to her sense of organisation. Every plate was a work of art.

  She arrived alone and, uncharacteristically, ten minutes late. Having walked the six blocks from home in a new pair of patent pumps with death defying heels, she could feel the blisters mutating by the second which had done little for her usually contented mood. Yes, the shoes had looked cute when she’d tried them on in the shop and were the exact price she’d wanted to pay in her given budget. But now she was regretting it.