by Clare Revell
Paiton smiled. “That’s good. Will you keep seeing her?”
Patrick nodded. “She’s even coming to church with us and then to ours for lunch after. And she’s coming for Christmas as well.” He flicked a few switches. “Will you and Mr. Quirke be in church again? We think it’s kind of cute how you sit with each other as if you’re the only ones there, you know.”
Glad the darkness hid her blush, Paiton pushed aside the grief flooding her. “We’ll see. Are you ready?”
“Final checks.”
She perched on the stool where she could watch both the tech crew and stage. Below the hall was full and the orchestra had finished tuning up. She looked at the clock. “Bring down the house lights and then the orchestra can begin the overture.”
Butterflies became hornets inside her. This was it. Months of planning came down to the next three hours. The lights dimmed, the music started, and the play she’d worked so hard on began.
14
Fraser pulled his coat collar higher and walked faster. He’d hoped to have persuaded Paiton to accompany him on a walk after school, but she was nowhere to be found. She’d avoided him for two weeks now. Two very long weeks, and he had no idea why. He’d been wracking his brain as to what he could have said or done to upset her.
She hadn’t been in church either. Fraser had even asked Sue where she was. Sue had no idea but said she’d find out. Not that he’d heard.
It was frustrating. Fraser stopped by the pond, watching the ducks on the cold water. He needed to put right whatever was wrong. He missed her. The past few days had shown him that. Her quiet presence completed him. He was lonely without her.
The words to the song resonated in his head. Yes, Christmas would be lonely without her or blue and whatever other adages the songs threw at him. He’d hoped with the way things were that he had a life with her ahead of him. They liked the same things, had the same sense of humour, and she understood him in a way no one else did. And then she was gone.
During staff meetings she was in the same room but part of her wasn’t. The part he needed and wanted. On the one occasion his foot had touched hers under the table, she’d moved it away faster than he could blink. As if he was a total stranger or as if his touch burned her.
He’d been planning on proposing at the end of term. He’d picked out a ring, hoping that she’d like it and asked the jeweller to put it by for him. But now?
With her barely speaking to him, it didn’t even matter that the school was closing. He’d have to start looking for a new job, and probably one a long way from here.
No. That was defeatist talk. He had to find her, talk to her, and put right whatever had gone wrong. If, after that, she wanted nothing to do with him, then so be it. God hadn’t given up on him; he wasn’t giving up on Paiton.
~*~
Paiton swallowed the lump in her throat as the final curtain came down. Two weeks of nightly shows had sped past. All the extra tickets had gone within hours of being announced. They could probably have extended the run further, but the children were tired and this was showing in their school work.
Mrs. Austin had responded to the invitation to come with enthusiasm but hadn’t been able to make any of the original dates. Another reason for extending the show’s run. Despite her being the Prime Minister, it hadn’t been the logistical nightmare they’d been afraid of, and she’d attended this evening’s performance with her security officer. Paiton had included a letter with the invitation, telling Mrs. Austin about the Ofsted problem and the rumours about the spy in their midst. Not that anything would come of it. It was too late.
The only thing Paiton missed was Fraser. She’d managed to avoid him socially since the encounter with the school governor. It meant driving herself to and from work as well as missing the early morning prayer meetings, but that couldn’t be helped. She’d allowed herself to become distracted. If it was a choice of her personal happiness and his career, there was no contest.
But she missed him. So very much. Her heart ached for him. She’d done what they’d wanted, backed away, but it was to no avail. They’d not only lost the battle, but the entire war.
Then Fraser was there, at her side, still in costume, but face wiped clean of his makeup. His familiar scent filled her senses, making her heart break afresh. This was so unfair.
His usual smile shone on his lips and filled his eyes. “Ready to come and meet the Prime Minister?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she said quietly.
Fraser squeezed her hand and frowned when she tugged it free.
“Please don’t.”
“Have I done something wrong? You’ve avoided me for two weeks now.” He led her to the side of the hall. “We need to talk.”
“I though you wanted me to talk to Mrs. Austin?”
“OK. If that’s the way you want to play this. But we will talk.” Fraser led her over to the other side of the room where Mrs. Austin was conversing with some of the cast, who all eagerly had photos taken with her.
Mrs. Austin smiled at them. “Mr. Quirke, that really was an amazing production.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister. May I introduce our Deputy Head, author and director Paiton Underwood. She wrote and invited you.”
“You wrote the play?” Mrs. Austin asked.
Paiton shook Mrs. Austin’s hand. “Not all of it. Seven ET are completely responsible for the twelve days of Headley Secondary. All based on actual events this term. Mr. Quirke is rather fond of fire drills, hence twenty of them in the song.”
“And the nine Miss Underwoods falling? Or maybe I shouldn’t ask.”
“I fell off the stage. Only once, mind, but the kids never let you forget anything.”
“Isn’t that the truth? I really enjoyed the play. I shall make a point of attending all future school productions. And thank you for the letter you included with your invitation.” Mrs. Austin’s gaze swung to Fraser. “I understand Ofsted have been on your backs this term. I’ve done some investigating. Could we have a quiet chat in your office?” She glanced at the security man. “I’ll be sleeping at home tonight. We’ll go back to London in the morning.”
The agent nodded.
“My office is this way. Paiton, I need to talk to you before you leave.”
She nodded slightly as Fraser and Mrs. Austin headed down the hallway. Heaving a sigh, Paiton went back across the hall to help with the tidying up. Once that was done, she went to her office to get her bag and coat. She could still hear voices in Fraser’s office. Good. It meant she could avoid the conversation he wanted for a little longer. She pulled out her phone and typed quickly. GONE HOME. SEE YOU TOMORROW AT SOME POINT. She hesitated a moment, then she hit send.
Outside it was raining. Typical December weather. She tugged her hood over her head and began walking. She’d left the car at home as it had refused to start that morning and there wasn’t another bus for half an hour. She could be home in twenty minutes.
Yes, the play had been an unqualified success, but it was all too little, too late. Ofsted had made their decision, albeit at the eleventh hour. The school was closing at the end of term. In ten days’ time.
Tomorrow, Fraser would tell the staff and begin arranging school places for all one thousand, three hundred, and twenty children in other schools. A logistical nightmare Ofsted hadn’t bothered to foresee. Or if they had, they didn’t care.
A car pulled up beside her. “Get in, Paiton, before you drown.” Fraser was brusque.
“Why?” she muttered.
“Because I asked.”
She shook her head and walked faster, tears rolling down her cheeks. It would be so easy just to do what he asked, to let him hold her, kiss her, but then he’d never work again. It didn’t matter about her. Sue would tell her she ought to just talk to him, but things weren’t that simple, not from where she was.
A car door slammed. Footsteps ran across the wet path towards her. Strong hands gripped her, swinging her around. “Paiton, don’t be so j
olly stup—Are you crying?”
“Maybe. It’s also raining.” She sniffled.
Rain plastered his hair to his head in no time flat. “Well, if you’d got into the car as I asked you to, we’d both be drier.”
“Bossy. You didn’t ask, you told me.” She wouldn’t look at him, because if she did, she’d give in.
“Yes, I am, and I did, and I need to talk to you. Now.”
She sighed. “Fine. Just make it quick. I’m getting wet.”
“Duh.” Fraser shook his head. “Please get in the car.”
“Fine.” Paiton climbed in. She wrapped her arms around her middle. Maybe this coat wasn’t rain proof after all.
Fraser got in the driver’s side. “You want the good news or the really good news?”
She shrugged, not wanting to care in the slightest.
“OK. Well, the really good news is Mrs. Austin has gone to bat with Ofsted. You were right. Mr. Fotherington-Smythe has a reputation of closing down good schools on trumped up charges and turning them into private academies run by his company. Once she pointed this out, Ofsted disregarded his report. We’re safe. They aren’t shutting us down. You saved us.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
He nodded. “And the good news is she wants to transfer her two children here from next term, and have her youngest start in September.”
“OK.” She scrunched and un-scrunched her hands several times.
“Hmmm.” Fraser frowned. “I was expecting a bigger reaction that that.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A yay, maybe.” He turned her jaw to face him. “Paiton, we’re not closing. We have ministerial approval, and you get to keep being Deputy Head.”
Her eyes burned, and she pulled away from him. “Maybe I don’t want to be anymore.”
The light vanished, and his joy visibly faded. “I’m sorry?”
“You said acting Deputy Head for a term. I’ve done that.” She shifted in her seat.
“Paiton, you are the best deputy I’ve ever worked with. All the staff agree with me. The kids love you and come to you with their problems rather than me. We made a good team.”
Her resolve almost broke. “I know we do. But…” Her voice wobbled.
“But what?”
“You and me, and work, and everything.”
He closed the gap between them and kissed her. “I want you in every part of my life.”
Paiton jerked back, hitting her head on the glass of the window. Pain rocketed through her. “Fraser, we can’t. I’m really tired. Can we please just talk about this another day?” She fumbled for the door handle, jumping out into the pouring rain. She shut the door and ran.
Was she mad? Had he been about to ask her what she’d wanted for so long but what could now end his career? She couldn’t allow her personal happiness to take control of that. It was Jesus first, others next, you last. She had to come last. Always. She swung a left, finding herself outside Sue’s house and ringing the bell.
Sue opened the door in a dressing gown and curlers. “Paiton.”
“Can we talk?” Paiton shivered, the rain now soaking through to her clothes.
“Yes. But you warm up in a hot shower first. I’ll find you some dry clothes.”
Ten minutes later, in a borrowed outfit and nursing a large mug of hot chocolate, Paiton curled up and poured out the whole tale. Fortunately, she was now beyond tears, having wept in the shower.
“So, let me see if I have this right. The school isn’t closing. You have the Deputy Head job on a permanent basis starting now. And a bloke who wants to be with you night and day. The Prime Minister’s kids start in January.”
Paiton sipped the chocolate. “Yeah.”
“Then what, dear sister, are you doing here?”
“I, well, your place was nearer than mine,” Paiton tried.
“Have you talked to Fraser about this? I mean the bloke is clearly besotted with you.”
How had she known her sister would suggest that?
“Why ever not?” Sue rolled her eyes. “You need more than my advice. You need to go to bed and pray. On your knees like we were taught to as kids. Ask God what you should do.”
“And He’ll tell me, just like that?”
“He’ll let you know, yes. The spare room is all yours. How are you getting to work in the morning?”
“Walk. Bus, if it’s raining. My car is at home.”
“Leave that to me. Now bed.”
Paiton stood. “OK. Bossy.”
Sue grinned. “Sleep well.”
Paiton headed upstairs and cleaned her teeth. Then she went to the bedroom and shut the door. Not needing the light on, as the landing light shone through the top of the door, she made her way to the bed, and set the cup down on the cabinet. She went back downstairs to retrieve her phone and returned to the bedroom. Dropping to her knees, she did what she should have done ten days ago and handed the problem to the Lord.
15
Fraser pulled up outside Paiton’s sister’s house at seven fifteen. He’d been tempted to jump out of the car the previous night and force Paiton to accept a ride home, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d followed her half a mile or so until she’d reached Sue’s house safely. Then he’d gone home and spent half the night praying.
Paiton had texted him, asking him to pick her up from her sister’s in the morning. Hopefully, that meant she was prepared to tell him what was bothering her. He strode up the path and rang the doorbell.
Sue opened it. “Morning. She’s in the kitchen. Coffee in the pot on the side. I need to get dressed. Straight through that door there.” She raised her voice. “Paiton, your lift is here. Have a good day.”
Fraser walked into the kitchen.
Paiton shot him a curious look. “What are you doing here?”
“You sent me a text last night. Asked me to pick you up.”
“No, I didn’t. That would have been Sue. She does love interfering.”
Oh. His heart sank. “I can go. Let you walk. I have obviously done something to hurt you somehow, though I have no idea what I said or did. And I’ve prayed it over, and I still don’t know.”
“No, you’re here now.” Paiton pushed upright. “Thing is, I was told if we continued seeing each other and working together in this capacity, I’d ruin your career and neither of us would ever work in a school again. One of us has to go, and it’s better if it’s me.”
He frowned, a hot flash of anger creeping up his spine. “Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Fraser clenched his fist, thrusting it into his coat pocket. “Yes, it does.”
“Fine, but not here,” she muttered. She poured two coffees into the to-go cups on the side. “In the car and on the way to work.” She held out an envelope.
He looked at it then raised his gaze to her. “What’s this?”
“My resignation.”
He shook his head and shoved it into his pocket. “No way.”
Paiton glared at him. “I quit.” She marched into the hall and yelled up the stairs, “Bye, Sue.”
Fraser followed her out of the house, his stomach pitting. There had to be a way around this. He unlocked the car and held the door open for her. She slid inside and put the cups into the cup holders between the seats. He rounded the car and got in. Pulling out the letter, he tore it in two and shoved the pieces into his pocket. “Not accepting it. Who told you we can’t work and be together?”
“Don’t you go all headmaster-ish on me.”
Fraser activated the central locking, reached over, and cradled her face gently. “I am not driving anywhere, and you’re not getting out of this car until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Justin Mayer, head of the school governors, accosted me the day of the first dress rehearsal. He told me that our relationship breaks school policy. If I continued as deputy, and seeing you, he’d end your career. He sent it in writing, as well.”
Fra
ser’s lips twitched, and he swallowed his anger. “You know his wife was the name the board put forward for your job? She works at Newgate Primary as KS2 head. I overrode their choice and picked you instead.”
“Oh.” Colour flushed her face. “So it’s personal.”
He nodded. “Paiton, please, will you be my deputy head?”
“I—”
Fraser didn’t give her chance to finish. “Will you also continue going out with me as my echo, plus one, girlfriend, practically engaged person?”
A faint smile tinged her lips. “I…”
“Just leave the nasty man to me. No one gets away with bullying in my school, remember?”
“Ask me again later, once this is sorted.”
Fraser’s lips brushed her cheek. “Of course. I’ll keep asking.” He drove to school, turned off the engine, and shifted in his seat to stare at her.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he smirked. He leaned over and kissed her. “Now I can be professional and so can you.”
“Bossy,” she replied, trying to keep the laughter out of her voice and failing.
“That’s Mr. Bossy to you.” He winked.
“Oh, and don’t forget the kids’ Christmas lunch is today. The staff are dressing as elves as requested and serving the kids. Sitting with them as well. Tinsel is mandatory. So is the Santa hat I’ll leave in your office.” She leapt out of the car and ran inside quickly.
Fraser reflected. As soon as he’d solved the Justin Mayer problem, he’d do what he’d been longing to do for the past couple of weeks. Not being around her had only strengthened what he felt for her. He had to make her his and never let her go again.
~*~
Paiton slid the last file in the box and stood. Finally, the Year Eleven drama projects were graded and ready to send off. She’d e-mailed the marks to the exam board anyway but needed to get these in the post today. She grabbed the box and went to the reception office. “Jackie, can you do me a favour?”
“Sure.”
