Page 21 of Coming Home to Hope Street

Chapter Fourteen

Walking through the gates of Somerley High School, Livvy was immediately hit by a sense of déjà vu. The main buildings hadn’t changed one bit since she’d left, although there was a new block to the right of the staff car park. She spotted one of two large playgrounds. Livvy would always sit on the wall there with a bunch of friends during breaks. She could see herself now, with Mandy Griffiths, Sharon Godley, and Paula White; wondered what had happened to them all.

After school, she’d wait for Hannah or they’d go their separate ways if she was training. Back then, Hannah had been really sporty, having been picked to represent the school for track and javelin throwing.

For some reason, when she stepped into the reception area it felt a lot smaller than she remembered. But she could clearly recall the feeling of fear it had given her, even if she hadn’t been in trouble very often. This was where the teachers were situated. The staff room was to the right; headmaster’s office to the left.

Livvy told the receptionist who they were here to see, and they sat down to wait.

‘What do you think so far?’ Livvy asked, putting a hand on Pip’s as she pulled her phone from her pocket.

With a sigh, Pip left it alone. ‘It’s a school, Mum. I have to come here for the next few months, more if I stay on at sixth form.’

‘But you must know if you like it or not.’

‘I’ll tell you that after my first day.’ She looked at Livvy through her fringe. ‘You’ll know if I hate it.’

Livvy could see she was teasing her and threw her a sideways smirk.

In a few minutes, they were shouted through by the headmaster. He was mid-forties at a push, small and round with a red flare to his face. He pushed glasses up his nose before smiling at them.

‘Mrs Perkins, Pip! I’m Mr Jenson. Hello and welcome! Do come through.’

To Livvy’s surprise, Pip had been on her best behaviour. She seemed willing to please Mr Jenson, which excited and appalled Livvy in equal measures. It meant she’d get the wrath of her daughter if anything went wrong, but for now Pip was willing to try. Livvy thanked her lucky stars that Pip had inherited her strong will, even if at times they fought like cat and dog.

They walked back to Hope Street, which was fifteen minutes away, and she regaled tales of her days in Class 7a. Pip was in hysterics – it was good to hear her laughing.

The high street was busy, people bustling in and out of the row of shops. For the main part, it catered for most people’s needs: clothes, shoes, flowers, food, and a newsagent. Livvy found herself liking the feel of it. Not too busy but not too quiet either.

As she passed the indoor market, she wondered if they still had the outdoor stalls on the car park at the back each week. If she remembered rightly, it was every Thursday.

‘Can we have burger and chips for tea?’ Pip asked.

‘If we must.’

‘We must!’ Pip grinned as she pushed open the door to Somerley Stores.

Livvy remembered it as a run-down shop, and only half the size it was now. In her memory it was like the one featured in the television programme,Open All Hours, with dusty shelves and an old-fashioned till. Now it was a full-blown supermarket. It was a definite asset to the high street. She reckoned it would bring in people who drove through as well as regular customers.

Livvy recognised the woman behind the till as soon as she saw her. Quickly, she bowed her head and walked down an aisle out of sight.

Then she slowed her pace. As she picked up a few tins and headed for the freezers located at the back of the room, she realised that she’d have to pay at the till. She should have worn a hat.

Then again, in a small town like Somerley, people were bound to recognise her, and she’d probably have to go through the whole rigmarole of telling everyone why she was back numerous times.

She’d have to get used to it.

Once they’d filled two baskets full of groceries, Livvy retrieved a few carrier bags from her handbag and went to join the small queue at the front of the shop. Purposely, she kept her eyes from the woman who was serving, trying desperately to remember her name. Was it Erin, or Eileen?

‘Morning,’ the woman said, glancing at them quickly to be polite. Then she looked a little closer and her hand shot to her mouth. ‘Is that you, Livvy Lockley?’

Livvy sighed inwardly as she nodded. The woman was in her late forties. Her hair was styled in a short stylish bob with a side fringe. She looked the motherly type, with kind, yet inquisitive, eyes. Her lips were thin with the remains of red lipstick, a rather high forehead on display.

‘It’s Erin, isn’t it?’ Livvy asked.

‘Ellen,’ she corrected her. ‘I’d recognise you anywhere. You haven’t changed a bit despite – how many years ago was it that you ran away?’

‘I didn’t run away,’ Livvy replied, aware that Pip was listening to everything she was saying.

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