Page 45 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
‘What are you like?’ I say. I turn and he looks exactly how I left him, without a tie and the same dodgy haircut he’s had since he was eighteen.
‘You’ve brought the rugrat in?’ He gives him a glance and waves.
‘Yup, the grand showing and then a chat with Alicia about after Christmas.’
He studies my face and looks over at what I’m wearing. I went very neutral with leggings and a shift dress but I can tell he’s scanning the extra baggage I’m also carrying.
‘They gave me a Year Seven group for form,’ he says. ‘Two months in, still looking completely petrified. I have one with a camping rucksack.’
‘Like with a tent?’
‘I should check.’
I laugh. He leads me through to the staff room where people buzz around trying to get to their first lessons. The place hasn’t changed much. A mural of a Michelle Obama quote still sits centre stage across the back wall. Jack Lindsay still has a pile of paperwork that blocks out the light in one corner of the room and no one is washing the mugs and wiping down the sink despite the best laminated signs printed out by Betty in the office that come with giant smiley faces.
‘I have a free period. Wanna cup of Maxwell House’s finest?’
‘Naturally.’
He heads over to the kitchenette while I set up base for us. Tony Kirby gives me a wave. He’s the sort who’s been a teacher since the dawn of creation. There is tweed in his wardrobe, pain in his eyes and possibly brandy in his flask. Jane Kelsted, now also with child and carrying her pregnancy far better than I ever did, comes over to coo.
‘I can’t believe you’re a mum!’ Ditto, Jane. ‘I have to run; come back because I want cuddles.’ I put a thumbs up at her. Joe looks less amused.Is it one of those days where I’m going to be passed around like a doobie? They get their baby hit and pass me on to the next person?
Pretty much, kid.
‘Someone has brought in shortbread,’ Sean says animatedly, appearing behind us. The joys of staff-room living.
‘Result,’ I say, grabbing a few biscuits. ‘So? I haven’t seen you in a bloody age. How are you?’ I tell him.
‘Surviving. This place is shit without you,’ he mutters in hushed tones.
‘Stating the bleeding obvious really.’
He takes a big sip of his coffee and watches as I get Joe out of his car seat and sit him on my lap. Joe takes a moment to look around.We really go to the least interesting places in the world, Mum, eh? Who is this now? He’s not my father. But that’s a nice crew neck jumper that looks like it may have merino wool in it. I might throw up on that later.Sean studies Joe’s face like he’s thinking about an answer to a really hard question.
‘Did you want to…’ I say, handing him over.
Sean acts like his mug is weighing him down. ‘Oh no, I’ll just look at him. Hello, mate.’
I examine Sean closely. ‘Have you been around many babies?’
‘That would be a no. He’s alright, eh?’
‘He’s OK.’
Joe looks unimpressed that we’re not speaking about him in superlatives.
‘I can’t believe you’ve got a baby.’ He studies me, almost with disbelief. ‘That’s so bloody grown up.’
‘We were always grown up, no? We commandeer all these children on the basis of our maturity?’
‘Speak for yourself,’ he says, laughing.
‘Is that why I haven’t heard from you in a bit?’
He smiles but looks slightly ashamed which wasn’t my intention.
‘I sent you that meme about teaching the other day. I tagged you in it. Mate, I just don’t do babies. I thought I’d give you some space.’ He shrugs. People do this. They forget babies are quite small though, they don’t take up that much room. A simple hello would have sufficed.
