Page 62 of Hot to Go

‘I left my wallet in my classroom,’ he tells me. ‘I saw your light on and heard movement so I thought I would come and say hello.’

‘Hello,’ I tell him. This isn’t fair.You get to see some slummy dishevelled version of me whereas you’ve gone home. You don’t even look tired, just effortlessly cool in a hoodie and trainers, that twinkle in his eye shining through. Damn you.

‘Marking?’ he asks.

‘Year 11 speaking assessment prep.’

‘Snap. Except I do mine at home. Sitting down. With a pen,’ he jokes.

I laugh and turn down the music. ‘Can you not tell people you saw me in here? I’m a little embarrassed.’

He scoffs quietly to himself. ‘Well, unlike some, I am very discreet.’

I pause for a moment as he says that, curious. ‘Was that a dig?’

He stands there wondering whether to engage in thisconversation. ‘It seems that a lot of the staffroom know quite a lot about me…us…’

I shake my head, mortified. ‘Well, it was never my intention to be gossipy. I was confused. Beth knew quite a lot already,’ I say, hoping he can read my authenticity.

‘I know how staffrooms work. I don’t mind it when you talk about me but just not my family, that’s all.’

I don’t reply but just study his intensity, that sense of protectiveness which shows the depths of his character and is wildly attractive.

‘I’m sorry.’ He smiles and continues to look at me, nodding. ‘And to talk about us was wrong too. I mean, there’s nothing to really say, is there?’

‘Ouch,’ he replies, feigning pain, holding a hand to his heart.

I half laugh. ‘I think we both know that something’s…lacking here.’ Nope, that’s made it worse. ‘That’s the wrong word…Not you lacking, just both of us…’ I need to stop talking in teacher talk. Inadequate, special measures, below standards.

He nods slowly. ‘I get you. Maybe it’s the universe telling us we had our moment in Mallorca. It was always going to be impossible to recreate that,’ he says plainly. And as he says the words out loud, I understand completely but I can’t help but feel my heart deflate. I remember when I found out about Paul. That felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and stamped on it with a heavy boot. This feels like a heart swollen with hope, with curiosity and we’ve pierced a small hole in it so it all seeps out slowly.

I can’t read him at all. Was that just as painful for him too?

‘I was thinking the same,’ I say, trying to cover my feelings. ‘We can still get along as colleagues though, right?’ I ask him. ‘Try and salvage a working relationship out of this?’

‘I think that’s important. With your lamination skills, you’re the sort of person I need to keep onside,’ he says, with a sadsmile, and my heart breaks a little at him trying to lighten the mood again.

‘I love laminating,’ I say, sounding a bit like a loon. ‘Aren’t you off to Seville on Friday?’ I ask, because as a colleague I guess I should try and make polite small talk.

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, if I don’t see you before then, have fun.’

‘I’ll try,’ he says, his eyes still exploring the room, this situation. ‘Promise me you won’t stay here too late, yeah? It’s dark outside, be safe, take care of yourself.’

‘I’ll try,’ I say, with a grin. And with that, he does a strange salute in my direction and walks away. I don’t move. I just try to take it all in, a painful feeling swelling in my chest. I’d like to think it’s indigestion from classroom dancing while eating a ready meal, but it feels more like deep-set disappointment wrapped around my heart, squeezing it so very tightly.

Charlie

‘So I’ve created this booklet that allows you to magpie some phrases for your speaking assessment and build your own answers. Try and keep it fresh, interesting. I don’t want…me gusta la escuela, es muy interesante…’I say it in a deadpan London accent and I’m glad it gets a laugh out of the class. I don’t mind these Year 10s, they’re curious and all seem to be engaged. There’s Viraj at the back of the room who needs to remember his book and sometimes I think Tyler is asleep but I’ve had worse classes. I had one lad who once jumped out of a window to escape my lesson. Ground floor, in case you were worried.

‘Sir, what time is the coach leaving tomorrow?’ someone asks me from the back of the room.

‘There’s a letter that should have gone out with all the timetabling, Viraj, but I believe it’s a seven thirty meet outsideschool.’ They all reply with groans of disbelief to have to roll out of their beds that early. It’s been a long six weeks to start off the autumn term. A new job was always going to take its toll but you see it in the kids too. After a long break in the summer, their brains struggle to keep up, they’re tired and moody. I see it here but also with Brooke and Sam who presently have all the charm of very angry squirrels.

‘Sir, did you say you lived there before?’ a girl at the back, Lola, asks.

‘I did my year out there at university so I’ll take you to all the bars I used to go to…’ There’s a sharp intake of breath. ‘You really are very gullible, eh?’ I say, laughing. Yes, let’s have a tour of Mr Shaw’s Spanish escapades. In this building, I went to a rooftop party, smoked a lot of weed and then had sex with an Italian tourist who never called me back.

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