Page 100 of A Class Act

‘Probably off the back of a lorry somewhere.’ Jess sniffed before lowering her voice as Lola left the kitchen to watch TV. ‘He knows he’s going to be by himself at Christmas now that the barmaid appears to have gone back to her husband.’

‘Oh, Jess, you’re not taking him back?’ I pleaded through a mouthful of delicious stuffing.

‘No, no, of course not. Lola wants her dad back here, of course, but…’

‘Dean’s well and truly cooked his goose.’ Sorrel grinned.

‘And Matt Spencer’s got his feet well and truly under her table,’ I added, joining in the banter.

‘Andunder her duvet.’ Sorrel cackled.

‘Oy, d’you mind?’ Jess threw Sorrel a look as Lola strolled back in looking for pudding.

‘You do like Matt though, don’t you?’ Mum asked, desperate to hear the correct answer. ‘I liked him from the minute I met him. He really helped me get better this time, you know.’

‘She’s in love with him.’ Lola grinned. ‘Mum’s fallen in love.’

‘Matt’s coming with me to Harrogate – to the conference centre where the competition is taking place.’

‘Oh, good for him. You’ll need to set off early to avoid the Friday-morning traffic. I’ll come over as soon as you’re ready to go,’ I added, ‘and make sure Lola’s up and ready for school.’

‘I’m not sure I can do this,’ Jess now said, absent-mindedly offering the plate of potatoes again instead of the rounds of fig and sweetened roast chestnut crumble tart topped with Bailey’s ice cream. ‘I’m absolutely terrified.’

‘You can do it. We’ll be cheering you on from here,’ I said, going to give her a hug. ‘We’ll be there with you in spirit.’

By Friday we were all as nervous as Jess, who’d started hyperventilating whenever she attempted to prepare anything more exotic than toast and Marmite for Lola’s breakfast. When, in the middle of the night, she sat bolt upright, said she couldn’t remember how to scramble eggs or how long it took to actually boil an egg, Matt simply took her in hand, calmed her down and soothed her back to sleep.

I went next door at 6a.m. to see to Lola. Jess was showered, dressed and looking as if she was on the way to her own personal execution.

‘Off you go,’ I said, pushing her gently towards Matt’s car. ‘Just do your best and enjoy yourself. Let us know what’s happening.’

I spent the day anxiously looking at my phone, tearing strips off the kids who were getting right up my nose and giving out detentions like sweets for the least iniquitous offending.

‘Blimey, what’s up withher?’ I heard a couple of Year 11 kids discussing me as they made their way to lunch. ‘I’d got to really like her recently – best teacher in this dump – but she’s been just as bad as the rest of them today.’

As soon as the final bell for the day – and the week – sounded, I waited for Sorrel and together we drove home in silence, leaving Little Micklethwaite and its school behind for the weekend. We motored slowly through Beddingfield, the main high street decked out in opulent but elegant seasonal white and silver, the huge Christmas tree stylishly decorated by the parish council. No garish multicoloured lights inmyvillage, I thought before smiling inwardly. I finally appeared to be happy and content to be back home in Yorkshire with my family, proud to live in this beautiful part of the country once more.

‘I’ve been feeling so anxious all day,’ Sorrel finally admitted. ‘If my stomach is in knots just thinking of Jess not being able to remember how to make a béchamel sauce or her ice cream not setting, how the hell am I going to feel when it’smyturn to head off down to London and Susan Yates’s next month? You will come with me, won’t you?’ she pleaded. ‘Oh, and just so you know, all the Pink Ladies have gone off you. Isla Boothroyd says you’re a bossy bitch and Mia’s dad’s hens appreciate them and know more about dance and musical theatre thanyouwilleverknow.’

That made me laugh, and by the time we got back home we were both hiccupping with giggles and ready to face the news of how Jess had got on, whatever the outcome.

Matt’s car was in the drive and Sorrel and I raced straight round, flinging back the kitchen door in our eagerness to see how it had gone.

Mum, Matt and Jess were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea, looking serious and certainly not as if there was any good news in the offing.

‘Oh…’ I hesitated, scanning Jess’s face. ‘Not good news? How’d it go?’

‘Absolutely terrifying,’ Jess finally said, glancing across at Matt, who took her hand. ‘I can’t tell you how frightening it was.’

‘She was brilliant,’ Matt said.

‘You don’t know that.’ Jess tutted, slightly crossly. ‘You weren’t allowed in. They wouldn’t let anyone in with us. It was just the ten of us, the three judges and the camera crew.’

‘And? And?’

‘Yes, yes, I’m through. Three of us were chosen to go to the final.’

‘Well, flipping heck, Jess, show a bit of enthusiasm, will you?’ I went over to hug her but she felt stiff, unyielding. I stood back, looking down at her. ‘What? What’s happened?’

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