Page 68 of A Class Act

When I just shook my head but said nothing, Mason went on, ‘Oh, well, if you won’t help, I suppose I’ll just have to do it all myself as usual.’

‘As usual? You’ve done it before, then?’

‘No, not really,’ he admitted. ‘But I’m prepared to have a go. OK, Christmas is probably a bit ambitious.’

‘More than a bit.’

‘So, Easter, then? That would give you more time?’

‘No, I’m sorry, it wouldn’t. Because I’m not doing it. If you remember, Mr Donoghue, I’m here on a supply basis and I’m very much hoping that by Easter I’ll be back looking for work in London.’

‘Oh, well, that’s a shame. Especially as I have three tickets for next week. Why don’t you come with Petra and me anyway?’

‘No strings attached?’

‘What sort of strings?’ Mason held my eye for longer than was necessary and I had to look away. Hell, he was sexy.

‘None of your trying to persuade me that there’s any chance of turning our kids into something fromGlee.’

‘Glee?’ Mason frowned.

‘Oh, you’ve no idea, have you? Look, a lot of these kids wouldn’t listen to a word anyone was trying to tell them; they’d not turn up for rehearsals and more than likely go AWOL on the opening night when something better came up.’

‘Still not got a very good impression of the children in my school, then?’

‘In a word – no.’

‘OK, just come with us – it’ll be a night out. Shame to waste a ticket.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ I offered ungraciously. ‘If I can recover from what your kids are putting me through on a daily basis.’

‘Robyn, have faith in yourself. I saw you the other day showing great empathy with the class you were teaching; you understand some of the kids have issues and respond accordingly. And they’re beginning to not only respect you, but really like you too. I’ve stood and watched you teach a couple of times.’

‘I really wish you wouldn’t.’ I frowned, embarrassed at the thought I’d been prancing about, giving it all I’d got, while not realising Mason was observing.

‘And you’re good. You know your stuff, you’re enthusiastic.’

‘That enthusiasm is pure adrenaline,’ I scoffed. ‘If I can act a part in front of them, take on a role, then at least it stops them butting in and trying to take over the lesson. If I’m talking and attempting to jump about’ – I held up my sore knee to remind him I still wasn’t capable of much gallivanting about – ‘then at least I have some control over what’s going on.’

Mason laughed at that. ‘OK, ticket’s here.’ He left it on the table at the back of the classroom. ‘Meet Petra and me outside Midhope Theatre at 7p.m. next Wednesday. If you don’t show, well, I get it. Even though it’ll be a waste of a ticket.’

‘I suppose this is your handiwork?’ Jess flapped the A4 piece of paper in my face before screwing up the offending article and lobbing it neatly into the wastepaper bin. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Robyn. There’s absolutely no way I’m putting myself forward for Yorkshire Christmas TopChef. Bloody silly name, anyway, just apingMasterChef.’

‘You don’t have to put yourself forward, Jess, because I’ve done it for you.’

‘Well, you can jolly well get it undone, then. You know,’ she added, glaring at me as she whisked egg white for some pudding she was experimenting with, ‘you were saying how Mason was trying to manipulate you into producing a show for him, and how you most certainly weren’t going to be manhandled into doing it? Well, I feel the same about this.’

‘It’s not the same at all.’ I tutted. ‘Come on, what do you have to lose?’ I moved to the bin, retrieving and smoothing the letter before reading its content: ‘You just need skill, enthusiasm, drive, a love of food and a desire to change your life,’ I said, enunciating each requisite clearly so she got the message. ‘You’ve gotallof those things but especially the bit about wanting to change your life.’

‘What’s up?’ Lola, coming into the kitchen and seeing Jess’s face, as well as the way she was angrily bashing the egg whites in their bowl, stopped and stared. ‘Mum, you’ve always told me that if you whisk meringues too much the stiff peaks will go back to liquid.’

‘Lola, Jayden and I have entered your mum for a cooking competition—’ I started.

‘Oh, I might have knownhe’dhave something to do with this,’ Jess snapped, folding melted chocolate into the meringues.

‘I don’t know why you’re so mean about my grandfather.’ Lola pouted. ‘I really like him. Andof course, you’ve got to enter. Will you be on the telly?’ she asked excitedly.

‘No, because I’m not doing it.’ Jess sniffed crossly. ‘I’m not having anyone looking at my big behind on TV.’

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