Page 7 of Autumn in Sycamore Park
‘Hey, there you are.’
She tried to get inside before he could catch up, but the bag she was carrying slowed her down.
‘Let me get that.’
‘I can manage.’
‘Sure you can. Newbie problem, that, eh? Getting a door open with your toe while carrying a pile of marking? A skill every teacher needs.’
‘Well, thanks,’ Jennifer said, as he pulled the door back for her, giving her a gusting whiff of expensive aftershave, mingled with the more pleasant scent from the plastic cup of coffee he was holding in his other hand.
‘You know, I saw you walking up the hill,’ he said. ‘If you don’t have a car, perhaps we can pool.’
‘Pool?’
‘Yeah. I’ll pick you up in the mornings, drop you home again. If you like.’
‘I only live a mile from the school.’
‘But you don’t want the kids knowing your address, do you? Damn animals, the lot of them. You’ll open the door in the morning to find a bunch of them on the steps outside, wanting you to throw them some scraps.’
Jennifer shrugged. ‘I doubt they’d care. I’m not a celebrity.’
‘You are to them. They’ll want to know everything. What you eat for dinner, boyfriends.’
‘Just those two specific things? The answer would be whatever I feel like and none.’
She had meant it as a hard brush off, but the moment the last word left her lips, she realised her mistake. It wasn’t the kids hounding her that she would have to worry about.
‘Is that so?’
‘And I’m not looking, either.’
Rick gave a sorrowful expression. ‘Did someone break your heart?’
‘Look, I’ve got stuff to do before class.’
‘Sure.’
She headed inside, Rick trailing along behind. Only when she reached the staffroom was she able to dilute him among the others. Amy Clairmont was already at her desk, arranging a box of pencil crayons into colour groups.
‘So, you came back?’ Amy grinned. ‘I owe Bob over there a couple of quid.’
‘What?’
‘I’m joking. Are you ready to jump back in again?’
‘Head first.’
Amy gave a polite chuckle. ‘That’s the spirit.’
The day passedwith relative calm until P.E. in sixth period when Kelly Garder slipped during an indoor game of rounders and her plimsoll came off. Swooping like a hawk, Gavin Gordon grabbed it off the floor and chucked it into the back of the alcove space in which all the folding dinner tables and chairs were stacked. After sending Gavin to Greg Downton’s office, Jennifer was required to climb into the hell of jutting, dust-covered chair and table legs in order to retrieve it. By the time she had managed to get back out, the bell had rung and the kids were late for the school bus. Three kids, terrified of having to walk home, were crying, while three others had already run off early, requiring Jennifer to run out to the car park just in case they got on the wrong bus.
As she waved the last child off onto the bus and ticked the name off on her registration sheet, she let out a sigh of relief, already dreaming of getting home to her pets. Plus, it was a nice afternoon, so a stroll in Sycamore Park would make her feel better. She might even stop by at the Oak Leaf Café to see what Angela was cooking.
She met Greg back in the staffroom. ‘Sent the little sod home with a note to his parents,’ he said. ‘Whether it gets there or not, I don’t know. I could have Maud give them a call tomorrow. Not that it’ll make much difference. The boy’s heading for the slammer. Might as well lock him up now and get on with it.’
Jennifer wasn’t sure what to say. She was still formulating a reply when Greg turned to deal with another issue, so she headed back to her desk. At the desk beside her, Amy was emptying poster glue out of one large industrial pot into a couple of dozen smaller ones, measuring the depths with a ruler, frowning whenever a little spilled.
