by Clare Revell
“No. It’s all you, bossy as ever, with your drive to make us a proper part of this community.”
“Speaking of being bossy…how about dinner tonight?”
“I’d like that.” The bell went for end of break. “OK, time to go to class. Did you send the e-mail around telling staff about the meeting in your office at lunch?”
He nodded. “Well, memo. I sent the duty prefect around with the message.” He rose. “I also want to start an early morning prayer meeting before school for any staff who wish to attend. Beginning tomorrow. Because this proposed closure is a direct attack on our presence and light here. We need to fight it head on.”
Paiton smiled. “I like the way you think, Mr. Quirke.”
His eyes twinkled. “I have something to ask you tonight.”
Curiosity piqued, she didn’t move. “What?”
“You have to wait.” Fraser pushed a wisp of hair back behind her ear, his fingers grazing her skin, sending ripples of heat though her.
“Now.” She pressed her foot onto his, pretending to stamp and sulk.
He chuckled. “I’m your boss. You can’t control me.” He reached for the phone. “Anyway, the fire alarm is about to go off, so you’d better grab the registers and head outside.”
11
Fraser took two quick paces and pulled open the restaurant door for Paiton. Mid November and already fairy lights sparkled in the windows and on the outside of the building. He’d driven her to a place on the other side of town, hoping this way they’d avoid bumping into anyone from school. Her smile warmed him to the core.
“Thank you. Such a gentleman.”
“I try.” He led her over to the desk, his hand resting lightly on her back. “Hi, I have a table for two booked at seven. The name is Quirke.”
The waiter grabbed two menus. “Come this way.” He led them to a table.
Fraser pulled a chair out for Paiton and waited until she’d sat before rounding the table and seating himself.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Apple juice, please,” Paiton said, sliding out of her coat.
“Same again.” Fraser hung his coat over the back of his chair.
She leaned her elbows on the table, steepling her fingers. “So, what did you want to ask me? I’ve been on tenterhooks all day long.”
“Patience. I’m working up to it.” Truth was, now it had come to it, his nerve had failed him. What if she said no? Instead he changed the subject. “I see they have their tree up already.”
Paiton grinned. “Mine’s up. When we were kids it went up the Saturday before Christmas and down on twelfth night. Never long enough in my opinion. What about you?”
He kept his face straight. “Up Christmas Eve and down Boxing Day.”
Her jaw dropped and she looked up from the menu. “Seriously? Only three days?”
He laughed. “No. Dad threatened it every year, but he never did. Except the year Nan died over Christmas. It seemed wrong to be celebrating then.”
“That must have been hard.” Paiton’s foot rubbed against his.
“It was. She lived with us, which made it even harder.” He looked at his menu, deciding quickly what he wanted.
The waiter came back with the drinks, and they ordered dinner.
Fraser leaned back in his seat, studying Paiton. The soft lighting made her eyes and skin glow. He could quite happily be with her for the rest of his life. He really hoped she felt the same way, but he needed to tread carefully until the end of term.
She gazed at him. “What’s your favourite Christmas memory from when you were a kid?”
“Too many to pick from.” He ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “But going to church on Christmas Eve. Everything was dark and quiet. Then church was bright and loud, like a beacon of hope shining in the blackness of night. What about you?”
“We had all our presents in pillow cases at the bottom of our beds which we all opened together in our parents’ room.” She giggled. “Mum always made tea for her and Dad first. One year we were old enough to do that unsupervised, so we made them tea at 2:00 AM so we could open stuff. The following year we were told 6:00 AM with a cup of tea, not a minute before.”
He laughed. “One present at breakfast and everything else after the Queen’s speech.”
She nodded. “We do that now. Sue’s kids don’t much like it, but they have stockings to keep them going.” She sipped her drink. “How are the sets coming on?”
Fraser picked up his glass. “Pretty good. The main backdrop is done. All the others are drawn onto sheets and just need painting. You’ll have one set per scene, and we tried to tie them into your main songs. However, we have no idea what to do for this extra song 7ET are performing.”
Paiton chuckled. “Don’t worry. The main backdrop is fine for that. 7ET have everything covered, including the props. I’ll need a couple of all-day rehearsals with everyone involved—the cast, lighting, music, costumes, set, teachers, and so on—during the week before.”
“That’s the whole school.” He studied her. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “I know. Figured they could all sit in the hall in class groups and either watch or work quietly.”
The meals arrived. Fraser grabbed her hands to say grace. Although the way his skin resonated with her palms and her fingers felt in his, he almost failed to get the words out. As he glanced up, her cheeks were glowing and he was convinced the whole restaurant could see them shining. “Has anyone told you how pretty you are when you blush?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then they should have.” He picked up his fork.
Paiton raised an eyebrow. “I have no social life, remember. I don’t do dates, or boyfriends, or stuff like that.” She smirked. “My boss is too needy.”
He scrunched his nose at her. “Am not.” He cut into his meat. “Well, as we’re being honest and above board here, I did have a girlfriend once, several years ago. She dumped me.”
“Mind if I ask why?”
“Because I’m bossy and overbearing,” he shot back, keeping his face straight but laughing on the inside.
“Really, you? I can’t imagine.” She beamed. “Do you own an outfit that isn’t a suit?”
He glanced down. “Umm, no.”
Surprise lit her gaze. “No jeans or cords or football shirts?”
“No. I have six suits and casual is top three buttons undone and no tie. I like collars.”
“Polo shirts have collars,” she told him, raising the fork to her mouth. “And they come in all sorts of colours. Like pink and red and yellow. Oh, and white, as you don’t seem to own a shirt that isn’t white.”
Fraser shook his head. He resolved right there and then to go shopping on the weekend and buy a couple of new shirts. Maybe black and navy blue, with at least one tie that was pink or red.
Her foot grazed his ankle under the table. “So what were you going to tell me?”
Fraser set his fork down and reached across the table, catching her hand in his. His fingers stroked it softly. He held her gaze. “I had a letter from my old university about a reunion dinner. They hold them every so often, always a black-tie event. The invite is for me plus one. I was wondering if you’d come with me.”
“Your plus one?”
Maybe he wasn’t making himself clear. “As my girlfriend.”
“Your girlfriend?”
He tried not to sigh. Was she being deliberately thick? “Is there an echo in here?”
“Echo?” She slanted her head and winked.
Evil woman. “You’re not making this easy for me.”
“Sorry.” She waved a hand over her face, removing her smile.
Fraser frowned. “What are you doing?”
She leaned her free arm on the table and balanced her chin on her hand. “I’m putting on my serious face.”
He chuckled and gripped her hand properly. “Would you do me the honour of being my plus one, my girlfriend,
and my echo?”
“Yes.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Thank you. Now, did you want dessert or a moonlight walk somewhere romantic?”
“A romantic walk sounds the better option. My waistline will thank you in years to come.”
Fraser signalled the waiter for the bill. He reached into his jacket for his wallet.
“Auntie Paiton?” A thin voice called from by her side.
~*~
Paiton’s cheeks burned hotter and she dropped Fraser’s hand. The moment shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. She turned to the small child standing beside her. “Hello, Jemima. How are you?”
“Mummy wants to know…”
Paiton distracted the child by picking her up and settling her on her lap. At least she could do this now that she had the use of both hands. She glanced up to find Sue grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat from where she sat with the rest of her family at the next table. “Then Mummy can come and ask me herself.”
Jemima turned wide eyes onto Fraser. “Are you Auntie Paiton’s boyfriend?”
Fraser’s cheeks pinked. He did look cute and Paiton would have to point that out soon.
“Yes, I am.”
“Are you going to marry her?”
“Jemima…” Paiton began.
“No, it’s OK, Paiton.” Fraser reached over the table and took Paiton’s hand again. “I’d like to, one day.”
“Well, that escalated quickly,” Paiton murmured.
Fraser chuckled. “I guess it did.”
Sue came over. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop her.”
“You didn’t try hard enough,” Paiton chided.
Sue’s smile was sickly sweet. “How are things?”
“Well, thanks to Jemima here, I’ve gone from echo to practically engaged in fifteen seconds.”
Fraser laughed at the glazed look on Sue’s face.
“You’re what?”
Paiton glanced at her watch. “Late is what we are.”
The waiter scurried over with the bill.
Fraser glanced at it and put enough cash on the tray to cover both bill and tip.
“You are coming on Sunday? Mum and Dad will be there, and if you’re practically engaged…”
“We’ll see.” Paiton kissed Jemima and put her down. She stood. “And now we have to go.”
“Are you avoiding me?” Sue picked Jemima up and placed the child on her hip.
“No. I’ve just worked out the perfect ending for the play and need to write it down.” She slid into her coat and stared at Fraser, hoping he’d see the desperation in her eyes and follow suit. She had to go before tonight got any more embarrassing.
Fraser stood and grabbed his coat. “Let’s go. It was nice seeing you again.” He took Paiton’s hand, and she all but dragged him away from her sister. “Slow down,” he hissed. “We could have stayed and chatted a little longer.”
“I really do need to write this down. Do you have any paper or a pen?”
“I’ll take notes on my phone and e-mail them to you. We can sit outside if you like or in the car.”
“Outside is fine.” She let Fraser lead her over to a table. She perched on the bench, Fraser next to her. Once Fraser was ready with fingers poised on his phone, Paiton explained her ending for the play.
He typed rapidly then hit send. The e-mail whooshed as it hit the cyber airwaves. “That, my dear, is pure genius.”
“I hope so. It’s still missing something.”
“You’ll work it out before long,” Fraser murmured, leaning forward. He kissed her gently and then pulled back. “May I?”
She nodded.
His hand circled her waist gently as his lips touched hers, softly, then firmly.
“Mummy says you’ll have to marry Auntie Paiton now.” Jemima’s voice was way to close.
Paiton and Fraser jerked apart.
Her cheeks burned, and she was glad the darkness hid the flush.
Fraser chuckled and wrapped his arm around her firmly. “You know, I think I might just do that.”
12
Paiton added the finishing touches to the huge Christmas tree in main reception. She was still floating on air. The university dinner had been wonderful. Fraser had introduced her to everyone as his girlfriend, didn’t leave her side all evening, and danced without stepping on her toes.
Sunday dinner with Sue and family and her parents had been so much better than she’d ever dreamed. Fraser and her father had a long conversation over the dishes behind a closed kitchen door. Fraser’s hand hadn’t left hers for the rest of the day. And they had sat with her parents for the evening service rather than hiding.
Then there were the long walks, the kisses good night when he dropped her off or left after dinner. He was the perfect gentleman, never overstepping the unspoken boundaries they both seemed to have.
Fraser positioned a box on the floor next to her. “This is the last of the decorations, although they are looking a bit sad. I would buy new ones, but it’s hardly worth it.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Paiton chided.
Fraser stepped closer and tucked the errant strands of hair behind her ears. “You know what I really want to do right now?” he whispered, his breath warm on her ear.
“I can guess.” And the thought of being in his arms, his lips on hers, sent delicious shivers up and down her spine.
“You look so pretty next to the tree. Maybe we can cancel your classes today and you just sit here all day long.” He leaned closer, lips catching hers. The front door opened, and he pulled back as if scorched.
“Morning,” Liam said all too cheerfully.
Had he seen? Or did Paiton’s burning cheeks give it away? “Morning, Liam.”
“The tree looks good.”
“Thank you.” She added another piece of tinsel. “There is one in the hall as well.”
“How early did you get here?” Liam looked at his watch. “I thought I was early coming in at half past seven.”
“We’ve been here since six,” Fraser said. “And now I must go and prepare for this inspection.”
“Another one?” Liam hefted his briefcase into his other hand.
“Hopefully, the last.” Fraser paused. “So if the full rehearsals start today, will I get to hear 7ET’s song?”
Paiton grinned. “Nope. You will be with Ofsted all day as I only need the tech crew and the musicians. You can see 7ET’s performance during the dress rehearsal. Not before.”
Fraser glared at her in mock annoyance. “Really?”
“I seem to remember you telling me that patience is a virtue or something.”
“Not one of mine, I’m afraid.” Fraser turned. “If you need me, I’ll be in the office.”
Paiton felt bereft as he moved out of sight, as if not being by his side left her less than whole.
“Your secret is safe with me,” Liam said quietly, inclining his head towards Fraser’s closed office door. “Mind you, several of the kids attend the same church and might be suspicious.”
Her cheeks heated again. “Oh.”
“Anyway, do you have the rehearsal schedule?”
“Yes, on my desk. Today, it’s just tech this morning and orchestra this afternoon. Are you still all right to help with all this?”
Liam nodded. “My classes can sit in the hall and read quietly.”
Paiton walked with him to her office. “Tomorrow is a full run through. I figured I’d put the whole school in the hall and they can watch the bits they aren’t in.” She handed Liam the sheets. Once he’d left she tapped on the connecting door to Fraser’s office.
“Come.”
She opened the door. “You don’t have to hide in here. There isn’t any planning needed. Ofsted will simply sit in the classes and watch.”
Fraser heaved a sigh. “I know. There is just so much riding on this.”
“It’ll be OK. We’ve done our best. It’s in God’s hands now. Only He knows how this will pa
n out. And it’ll go the way He wants it.”
Fraser touched her cheek. “When did you get so wise?”
“I had a good teacher.” Paiton leaned into his touch, shivering even though she wasn’t cold.
“I would like nothing more than to take you in my arms and kiss you right now,” he whispered.
“What’s stopping you?”
“Aside from the fact that this is work and I’m trying not to blur the lines? The window overlooks the car park, and I don’t want everyone knowing just yet.”
“Liam knows, so does everyone else at church. But he did say he’d keep schtum. So, Mr. Quirke, I have another tree to put up before the prayer meeting. My class tree. The kids made the ornaments in Year Seven, and we use the same ones every year. This year they’ll take them home at the end of term and…” She looked at him. “That’s it!”
“What’s what?” He looked confused.
“The missing part from the end of the play.”
“It’s a little late to add stuff now,” Fraser told her. “It’s the final rehearsals this week.”
She shook her head. “No, because the only people it affects are you and Eddie, and I’m pretty sure you and he can learn a few extra lines pretty fast. I need to go and write. Can you arrange for Eddie to miss first period? I need both of you in the drama studio at nine to learn this.”
Fraser nodded. “Sure.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “See you later.”
Heedless of who was watching, she leaned in, kissed his cheek, and then hastened from the room, the last scene of the play now unfolding in her mind like a film script. She closed in on the drama block, mind working overtime.
Mr. Fotherington-Smythe loomed out of the dim corridor.
Paiton jumped, heart pumping, breath coming in gasps. “Oh, you scared me.”
He leered close. “If you think this play will save the school, you’re wrong.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said, knitting her shattered wits back together. “They may overturn your report.”
“Never happened yet,” he hissed. “You’ll see.”
~*~
Fraser pushed open the drama studio door, allowing Eddie to precede him into the room. “Miss Underwood?”
