Page 9 of How Much Wine Will Fix My Broken Heart?
‘I will take this up later with Mrs Funnell. I just don’t think this is an acceptable way to start the school year.’
‘I’m very sorry you feel that way, Mrs Cantello,’ Miss Loveday replies.Please don’t apologise to her, I should say. She’s no boss of yours or a course assessor. She’s just Carrie Cantello and she gets her kicks out of picking on you because you’re a new, young teacher, with youth and beauty on your side, still learning the ropes. Tom used to speak about parents like this all the time. He once had a dad who called him a young wannabe c-word because he said his son hadn’t handed in homework all term. I look down at Lily Cantello now and she’s licking the condensation off one of the classroom windows.
‘Well, I think you’re doing a great job, Miss Loveday,’ I add. Standing here and letting Carrie burn this girl’s self-esteem into nothing doesn’t feel like the right way to start a Monday morning. Carrie glares at me.
‘Grace, I didn’t see you there.’ She scans down to Maya, obviously trying to register all the information she learnt about me last week. It makes me want to sweep her legs from under her. I don’t need to do that, though. A small firecracker of a child called Spencer, who I regularly see hurling around the playground, jousting with tree branches, misjudges his entry into the classroom and runs straight into Carrie. From the angle I’m standing at it looks like he nuts her in the crotch. Good work, that kid. Miss Loveday tries extremely hard not to laugh.
‘Spencer! Brakes! Brakes! Soz, Carrie!’ screams Spencer’s mum.
Carrie glares at us all like it’s a conspiracy. ‘Well, I’m glad you think so, Grace. I have my concerns that the children are having too much fun and not learning enough.’
Spencer’s mum looks confused but doesn’t want to join in this conversation. She tosses a lunchbox in her son’s direction.
‘I like Miss Loveday,’ a small voice pipes up beside me. Equally as perturbed as me, Maya looks up at Carrie and transfers her hand from mine over to her teacher’s. ‘She’s my only friend at this school.’
Carrie looks down at Maya’s scowling expression. Unfortunately, this may be true. Maya only ever talks about Miss Loveday and a lunch lady with an extremely tight perm called Pamela. She doesn’t seem to have taken to any of the children but, as I look down at Lily still licking the windows, I think I understand why. That said, Lily seems to have spelt her name with her tongue which, to me, is a sign of academic progress. Miss Loveday looks vindicated, even if the support comes from a four-year-old girl. Carrie storms off in a huff and I bend down to say goodbye to my daughter.
‘You can never have too much fun,’ she whispers to me.
I cup her face in my hands. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Aunty Lucy.’
My youngest, single sister: the avatar of fun. I hand over Maya’s water bottle and watch as she makes her way into the classroom.
‘Thank you, Mrs Callaghan,’ says Miss Loveday as I stand up. Christ, she really is young. She has that twenty-something smooth skin which you can tell means she survives on tinted moisturiser and a touch of mascara.
‘It’s Miss, actually. I’m not married.’ I’m not a Mrs, any more. I feel too young to be Ms. Back to Miss it is.
‘I’m sorry,’ Miss Loveday replies, horrified. She knows the ins and out of our family situation but she seems the sort who wants to get everything right, all of the time.
‘It’s fine. Please don’t worry.’
‘Actually, with Maya. She’s doing something new in class and I just wanted to bring it to your attention.’
‘Oh…’
She turns me away from the melee of the classroom and the door where other parents have congregated.
‘She’s taken to biting people.’
My eyes widen. ‘Crap. Sorry. I didn’t mean to swear. Like, properly? Is she drawing blood?’
‘No. And it’s never direct flesh where she could leave a mark. She went for a shoulder the other day in story time.’
This is when the zoo membership is perhaps not a great thing; we do spend a lot of time looking at the jungle cats.
‘Is it a reaction to something?’ I ask. This is the sort of advice Aunty Lucy would also give her nieces. When in doubt, bite. Lucy was a biter. Being my youngest sister meant she needed secret fighting tools in her arsenal.
‘I’m not quite sure. These first months, there is always a lot of adjustment emotionally. I can keep an eye on it. We’ve had a chat about it.’
‘Does she bite you?’ I ask.
‘Well, no. I’m her only friend,’ Miss Loveday says jokingly. ‘I’m sorry, I should have given you this information at another time when things are less rushed…’
‘It’s fine. Let me process it. Go… teach, have fun. Lots of fun.’
She smiles and I weave my way out of the playground, reaching for my phone. I googlewhy do children bite?Shit. Maya could be feral. Maybe it’s a tooth problem, something to do with her jaw. What if she’s being bullied and biting is her way of defending herself? I should message Emma. Emma is the doctor sister. There are other sisters too: Meg and Beth are also mothers with their own broods. Have they had these problems? Beth has a son called Joe. He doesn’t bite but he likes to hide and Beth regularly has coronaries in supermarkets when she thinks he’s been abducted but really he’s hiding on a shelf of fizzy drinks.
