2019
‘How’s your hand?’ Danny asked me. We’d moved on to the sofa at some point, I wasn’t completely sure when, but we’d not progressed past kissing, which was something of a relief, actually. I wasn’t sure I was ready for anything more. Not yet.
‘Is it still painful?’
The moment broken, I looked down at my hand in slight confusion. I’d actually forgotten about my burn.
‘Much better,’ I said. I shifted on the sofa awkwardly, suddenly feeling embarrassed to have been snogging like a teenager. Danny did the same, obviously having the same sense of being caught doing something naughty.
‘Danny,’ I began, just as he said: ‘Lizzie.’
We both laughed.
‘You first,’ he said.
‘No, you go first.’
We smiled at each other and Danny gently ran a finger down the side of my face. ‘I like you, Lizzie,’ he said. ‘I think we could have something here.’
‘But?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘There’s a but?’
‘Sounds like it,’ I said. ‘And, I think I have one too.’
‘Cara is my but.’
I nodded.
‘She has to come first,’ Danny said. ‘Lord knows I spent long enough not putting her – or her mother – first. I can’t make the same mistake over and over.’
Once again I thought how badly Sophie seemed to have misjudged him. It made me like him even more.
‘And there’s work, which is …’ He paused. ‘A bit shit at the moment.’
I understand,’ I said, though I wasn’t sure I did. Was he saying this couldn’t happen, even though he was the one who’d asked me out?
‘What’s yours?’
‘Pardon?’
‘Your but.’
I took a breath. ‘I am still bruised from my divorce,’ I said. ‘Wounded. I need time. Not a lot,’ I added hurriedly. ‘But time.’
Danny looked relieved, which was odd. ‘I thought you were going to say you didn’t want to see me at all.’
‘Is that not what you were saying?’
‘God, no. I just meant we need to take things slowly.’
I couldn’t help smiling. ‘Brilliant,’ I said. ‘I thought you were dumping me.’
Danny took my hand – the one that wasn’t burned. ‘We’ll do this the old-fashioned way. Dinners, walks, lots of talking. Get to know each other properly.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
He looked away from me for a second, then back into my eyes. ‘You’ve got a lot on, with school,’ he said. ‘And like I say, work is complicated. And I’ve got Cara and believe me, that girl has a very busy social life. I’m forever dropping her at trampolining, or picking her up from parties. She’s like a Kardashian.’
‘I’m not sure the Kardashians do much trampolining.’
‘Oh, they do,’ Danny said, wisely. ‘Trust me.’
I laughed. ‘The life of a single dad, eh?’
‘It’s a good life,’ he said. ‘Most of the time.’ He stood up and picked up his jacket. ‘I should go.’
I stood too, and he kissed me gently on the lips.
‘It’s been great. Thanks for feeding me.’
‘Thanks for taking me to the council. It was really helpful.’
I showed him to the door and watched him walk off down the street. The family who lived opposite me were all walking up their path to the front door, teenage son trailing behind. The mother looked over at me curiously and I gave her a cheery wave. Then, to stop the inevitable gossip, I called after Danny: ‘Thanks for dropping off that stuff.’
He looked round at me and shrugged, and the teenage son opposite turned to stare at me, then winked. What a cheek. Glad that it was dark now, so no one could see my blushes, I scurried back inside and shut the door. What a day.
* * *
I was at school early on Tuesday morning, at my desk with the photocopies of Esther’s letters and references spread out in front of me. I’d done some admin after Danny had gone, watched an old episode of Friends and gone to bed early, feeling absurdly content. Then I’d woken up at the crack of dawn, full of energy. It seemed old-fashioned romance was good for me. I’d decided to use my time to have a think about what we could do with the information I’d uncovered the previous day.
‘What were your aims for Elm Heath, Esther?’ I asked her photograph. ‘And where did you write them down?’
‘She won’t answer,’ Paula said from my doorway. ‘Believe me, I’ve spoken to her enough times over the years.’
I chuckled. ‘Morning. You’re here early?’
‘I wanted to see how you got on yesterday.’
I thought of Danny and me on the sofa, and flushed. ‘Yesterday?’
‘At the council?’
‘Oh, of course. The council.’ I looked down at the papers in front of me. ‘Come and see.’
I talked Paula through everything I’d found, showing her the plans for the original school building, the references and the letter from the authority giving her the permission to open Elm Heath.
‘These are wonderful, you’re so clever to have found them,’ she said, her eyes gleaming with interest.
‘It was Danny really,’ I pointed out, eager to give him the credit I thought he deserved.
Paula shrugged. ‘You did the hard work.’ She picked up the letter from the authority.
‘Where’s the letter this is replying to?’
‘Ah,’ I said.
‘Ah?’
‘It wasn’t there.’
Paula’s shoulders slumped. ‘Really? But that’s the bit that would be most useful to us.’
‘I know,’ I wailed. ‘The bit where she spells out her aims so brilliantly that it makes the council forget about her having been in prison, and hand over the cash to build the school.’
‘If we had that, we could do a whole thing about our aims now and how they compare. Do a whole project on schooling now versus schooling then,’ Paula said.
‘I know it would be easier if we had the letter, but we could still do something along those lines,’ I said. ‘It might show the special historical interest we need.’
Paula clapped her hands. ‘And prove how long Elm Heath has been important to the community.’
Struck by her enthusiasm, I started writing down what she said, scribbling as she spoke.
‘We could get the kids to dress up and have a whole day of school like in the early 1900s,’ she said. ‘I bet the local papers would cover it.’ Paula sorted through the papers on my desk until she found the old photos.
‘Could we track down former pupils?’ I asked.
‘Well not those ones I don’t imagine, because if they were five in 1912, they’d be well over one hundred now.’ She chuckled.
‘No, I suppose not. Maybe as far back as we can, though?’
‘Worth a go.’
My spirits were lifted – slightly. Perhaps we had a chance here.
Emma, who’d come into the office without me noticing, stuck her head round my door.
‘Denise Deacon from Blyton Council is on the phone for you,’ she said. ‘Shall I put her through?’
Straight away my spirits crashed into my boots again. ‘Put her through,’ I said.
Paula made to get up, but I stopped her.
‘I’ll tell you everything anyway,’ I said, as my phone started ringing. ‘May as well hear it all first hand.’
I picked up my phone and braced myself for bad news. I wasn’t wrong.
‘I wanted to tell you myself,’ said Denise. ‘That they’ve set a date for the education committee meeting where the decision is going to be made about the future of Elm Heath Primary.’
‘When?’
‘March 22nd.’
‘That’s really not long.’ We were already into November and March seemed just round the corner.
‘It’s the latest we can leave it if we want to find the children other school places for September.’
‘You won’t need to find them other places, if Elm Heath stays open,’ I growled, annoyed that it seemed to be a fait accompli.
‘Of course,’ she said mildly.
‘Can I speak at the meeting? Put our case across?’
‘If you want to.’
Obviously I wanted to. With great effort I managed not to growl again. ‘Please,’ I said.
‘Then I’ll make sure it’s on the agenda.’
Through gritted teeth I said polite goodbyes, and then hung up.
Paula gazed at me, her eyes worried. ‘It’s official, then?’
‘The education committee are meeting on March 22nd to make the final decision.’
‘That’s only a few months away,’ Paula said in despair.
‘Danny said that normally these decisions are made long before they’re given the nod officially,’ I said bitterly. ‘And the way she mentioned finding alternative places for our kids really made it seem that way.’
‘I’m going to ring Chris and see if he knows anything,’ Paula said. Chris wasn’t in property – he had his own accountancy firm in Blyton – but he seemed to know all of the important people locally and kept his ear to the ground.
She got up, but was stopped as Nate appeared at my office door, his hair dishevelled.
‘Is it true?’ he said.
‘I’m not sure. Is what true?’
Nate glanced over his shoulder at Emma, edged his way inside my office and shut the door behind him.
‘Marc just called me. Apparently, there’s a council-approved developer drawing up plans for the site of the school. They want to convert the building into flats and they’ve asked Marc’s firm to pitch for the contract.’ He glared at me. ‘Is that it, then? Are we closing?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Maybe. Hopefully not.’
Nate gave me a withering look. ‘Sounds to me like the deal has been done.’