Grant didn’t stay with me. I was weak when it came to him, but not that weak. Instead he made himself comfy in a room above the Three Kings and arranged to come into school at lunchtime the following day to meet the staff.
I’d not even taken my coat off the next morning when Paula arrived in my office.
‘Tell me everything,’ she demanded, handing me a coffee. ‘Chris says your Grant was in the pub?’
I hung my coat up, and sat down at my desk, groaning. ‘He turned up on my doorstep with no warning,’ I said. ‘I knew it was a mistake telling him about Elm Heath. He’s like a dog with a bone, that man. He loves a challenge.’
‘Is he going to help?’
‘He thinks it’s difficult but he didn’t say no. He’s coming into school at lunchtime to meet you all.’
Paula looked thrilled. ‘Chris says he’s really nice.’
‘Yes, well, he is,’ I said bluntly. ‘Just don’t marry him.’
She leaned forward across my desk. ‘Is it tricky, seeing him again?’
I sighed. ‘You know the expression “rubbing salt in the wound”? Let’s just say I’m living it.’
‘That bad?’ Paula grimaced. ‘What about Danny? Have you seen him?’
I’d not told Paula anything about me and Danny since our trip to visit Fiona. I’d not told her about him spending the night, nor about me overhearing him on the phone – it just all seemed a bit embarrassing. Now I looked away from her enquiring gaze.
‘He was in the pub last night, actually,’ I said. ‘But I don’t think that’s going to work out, you know. We’ve both got a lot on …’
‘Hmm,’ said Paula.
‘What does that mean?’
She looked at me, head tilted to one side. ‘It means, I don’t think you’re telling me the whole truth,’ she said. ‘Either you’re hiding something about Danny, or you’re still in love with Grant. Or both.’
I felt my cheeks colour. ‘Not true,’ I said. ‘I’m definitely not still in love with Grant.’
‘Really?’
I nodded, more firmly than I felt. ‘Him being around is strange, and unsettling, and yes he knows how to push my buttons,’ I said. ‘But honestly, that ship has sailed.’
I thought about the electricity that had zinged through me when Danny touched his little finger to mine, and felt my cheeks glowing again. ‘That ship has sailed,’ I said again.
‘And what about Danny’s ship?’
I shrugged, not knowing where to begin with Danny.
Paula opened her mouth to talk, just as the bell rang. ‘Saved,’ she said.
I laughed in relief, glad I’d avoided an interrogation. ‘Go,’ I said. ‘But come to my office at lunchtime. I’ll introduce Grant to everyone.’
The morning flew by. Because it was the last week of term, school was crazy. It was the nativity that week and I was really excited about seeing all the kids show their parents how hard they’d been practising. There was a festive feel to the whole place with decorations in all the classrooms and the children just one notch away from being totally out of control. I was really loving it.
I was just writing a list of local dignitaries we wanted to invite to the nativity when Grant appeared in my office. He always came into a room like he was expecting a fanfare. I’d forgotten how annoying it was.
‘Morning,’ I said, glancing up from my list. ‘Have a seat, I just need to finish this.’
I added the name of the chair of governors even though we’d emailed his invitation weeks ago, then wrote “another name, and another name, and another one” at the bottom, just to stretch out the time I was taking. And then I finally looked up. Grant was sitting opposite me, watching me and smiling.
‘Nativity plans?’ he said.
‘Local bigwigs who we should invite.’
‘Let’s have a look.’ He reached out for my notepad and I whisked it away before he could see the fake names I’d written, dropping it into my drawer and slamming it shut.
‘Won’t mean anything to you.’
Grant leaned back in his – my – chair and surveyed the room. ‘It’s a nice school,’ he said. ‘Tiny.’
‘It’s a lovely school.’
‘Kids seem well-behaved.’
‘They are.’
‘What about the staff?’
‘They’re well-behaved too.’
He grinned and I softened.
‘They’re all coming to meet you.’ I checked my watch. ‘Any minute, actually.’
Right on cue, Paula knocked on my doorframe. ‘Knock, knock,’ she called, even though the door was open and she had also actually knocked.
‘Paula,’ I said. ‘Come in. Grant, this is my deputy, Paula. You met her husband Chris last night. She teaches reception.’
‘Jesus,’ said Grant, standing up and giving Paula his best smile. ‘You’re a better person than I am. Is it all potty training and phonics?’
I knew for a fact that Paula hated when people reduced teaching reception to sounding out letters, so I braced myself for a rude comment from her, but instead she beamed at Grant.
‘Luckily I’ve got a TA for the toilet trips,’ she said.
‘Wise woman,’ Grant said. ‘So, your husband was saying that your daughter is doing her A Levels …’
Paula started talking about Chloe and I smiled. Grant knew how to get someone chatting, that was for sure. He was good at asking questions and being genuinely interested in other people’s lives. It was why he was so popular with the kids and staff at the schools he’d worked in, and why they all adored him. It was just a shame he got carried away with all that hero-worship and started firstly to believe his own hype and then to push things to the limit to stay on his pedestal.
There was a flurry of activity as Nate, Celeste and the others all arrived in my office at once. It was a bit of a squeeze but everyone eventually found a space and looked up at me expectantly.
‘Everyone, this is my, erm, my … This is Grant Mansfield.’
There was a murmur of interest and Nate glared at Grant.
‘I contacted Grant because he has a lot of experience dealing with the media and I thought he could help with our campaign to save Elm Heath,’ I said. ‘He had a bit of free time so he decided to come up and see for himself.’
‘Well, aren’t we the lucky ones,’ said Nate sarcastically. I frowned at him and he made a face at me. I let it go. It was sweet that he was being protective of me.
Celeste looked Grant up and down and he shifted in his chair under the weight of her stare. Amused to see him uncomfortable, I waited for her to speak. ‘What can you do for us?’ she said eventually.
Grant seemed slightly nonplussed by my team’s indifferent welcome. I’d never seen him like that before. He paused for a second and then recovered his composure.
‘Actually,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a few things up my sleeve.’
‘Go on,’ Nate said.
‘I was chatting with a friend who works for the BBC,’ Grant said. ‘I wanted to see if we could get a news crew to cover the story. And then he said it was more of a human-interest thing, and anyway the long and short of it is, The One Show are totally on board and they’re coming to film the nativity and do a little piece on your campaign.’
There was a stunned silence in my office.
‘Oh, and,’ Grant went on. He was enjoying this, the bugger. ‘A couple of the Sunday newspapers are interested, and the Guardian wants a profile on you, Queenie, erm, Lizzie.’
We all stared at him. Never in our wildest dreams had we imagined things would happen this way. Never.
‘That’s incredible,’ Nate stammered. ‘Amazing.’
I forced myself to speak. ‘It is,’ I said. ‘Thanks, Grant.’
Paula was looking stunned. ‘We need to do some juggling,’ she said. ‘We’ve got some vulnerable kids who can’t be on camera, a couple are adopted and one family need to be kept away from an abusive relative.’
‘We’ll need to make sure all the parents are on board, too,’ I said. ‘We can’t just stick kids on TV without permission.’
‘We’ve got three days,’ Grant said, as if it was all the time in the world. ‘Let’s make it happen.’
And, true to his word, he did. Paula and I sorted out parental permission for the kids involved, which wasn’t hard because everyone wanted to be on telly. And we spoke to the producer about the kids who absolutely couldn’t be in shot – and explained to the children, who were luckily old enough to understand, why it had to happen this way.
Grant, who was an old hand at interviews, gave Nate some media coaching so he could handle all the questions about the campaign.
‘I’m not sure I’m the right person,’ he said, but Grant waved away his protests.
‘You are absolutely the right person. You’re so passionate about Elm Heath and Liz said the rally is all your idea,’ he said, and Nate went away preening like a peacock.
I was so busy getting everything ready that I didn’t even have time to think about Danny, which was a blessing. Grant and I fell back into the easy working relationship we’d had for years as we rushed around sorting scenery, and preparing the children.
The camera crew arrived on the morning of the nativity with the kids all in a frenzy of excitement, the parents hanging round the school gates dolled up to the nines, and the teachers barely holding it together because we were so nervous.
I was pacing my office, trying to remember two or three pithy facts about Esther and her involvement in the school, in case anyone asked, when Grant appeared at my door.
‘I’m going to take off,’ he said.
I stopped pacing and stared at him. ‘What?’
‘I’m going back to London.’
I ducked behind him and closed the door. ‘Now?’ I said in horror. ‘Today?’
He grinned. ‘I’ve done my bit, Queenie. This is your campaign.’
I grimaced. He was right, actually. After all, I’d not wanted him there in the first place, and his interference had been more than a little annoying. But it had also been brilliant; we’d never be on The One Show without him.
‘We need you here,’ I whined.
He took me by the shoulders and looked straight at me. ‘You don’t. You’ve done all this on your own, Queenie. The campaign, and the rally, and the whole school being part of this nativity – it’s all you.’
I looked at his handsome face in wonder. ‘Two years ago, you’d have taken all the credit for this,’ I said. ‘You’d never have stepped aside.’
Grant smiled. ‘Two years ago I was a very different person.’
We looked at each other and, gently, he kissed me on the lips.
‘Grant, I …’ I began, but he stopped me by kissing me again. I relaxed into his embrace for a second – it was so familiar and so easy – and then pulled away.
‘Sorry,’ he said, looking anything but. ‘I couldn’t resist.’
‘S’fine.’ I pushed my hair back from my face.
‘I’m just going to go,’ Grant said. He took one of my curls in his finger and tugged it lightly. ‘You know where I am, Queenie.’
He headed out of the door and I heard him saying goodbye to Emma in the office.
I looked up at Esther’s picture on the wall. ‘Don’t say a word,’ I said.
* * *
The nativity was a huge success. The children sang their little socks off, Mary only dropped Baby Jesus once, and Paula swooped in to break up the fight between the shepherds before there were any serious injuries.
And, of course, thanks to Grant working his magic, the publicity we got for our campaign was incredible. The One Show aired the day after the nativity – the last day of term – and there were articles in the Sunday papers a few days later, too.
It was exciting, and exhilarating and exhausting.
On the Sunday, I bumped into Danny when I was buying the papers. We stood awkwardly in the street, me peering at him over a pile of Sunday supplements.
‘You’ve done brilliantly,’ he said, nodding to the newspapers. ‘Loads of publicity for the school.’
‘I hope it’s enough.’
The corners of his eyes crinkled, just a bit. ‘I’d say you’ve made life difficult for the council. The kids were all so great in the play that the council will look like utter bastards if they shut the school now.’
Despite myself, I smiled. ‘Fingers crossed.’
There was a pause.
‘So Grant went home?’
I nodded. ‘He’s a busy man.’
‘Sorry to see him go?’ Danny sounded off-hand but I wondered if he was digging.
I swerved the question. ‘He really helped.’
Danny nodded.
‘Where’s Cara?’
‘With Sophie,’ he said. ‘They’re doing a sort of pretend Christmas Day because we’re off to Ireland tomorrow.’
‘Is Sophie feeling better?’
‘Right as rain,’ he said. ‘Thankfully.’
‘Good.’
There was a small, awkward pause.
‘Are you busy? Fancy a drink?’
I looked at my watch. ‘It’s ten-thirty, Danny.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Cara was up early because she was so excited,’ he said. ‘It feels like dinnertime. A coffee then?’
I was tempted, but as I wavered as I remembered him talking to Vanessa on the phone outside school, and instead I shook my head. ‘Not a good idea.’
He looked satisfyingly disappointed. ‘Look, things are all just a bit tricky with Christmas right now,’ he said. ‘You know how everything gets ignored when people are out at parties and carol singing and whatnot. I’m sorting it, honestly.’
I’d heard enough. ‘I have to go.’ I hoisted the pile of newspapers up my arm to a more comfortable position. ‘Have a good time in Ireland. Wish Cara merry Christmas from me.’
Danny leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Merry Christmas yourself,’ he said. ‘See you in the new year.’
I marched home without looking back, and later that day I did what I always did when times got tough.
I ran away.
Mum had invited me to spend Christmas with her, and I’d been planning to go up on Christmas Eve. But knackered from the excitement of the nativity and all the press attention, and with thoughts of Danny and Grant whirling round my head, I decided I should go sooner so I packed the car with presents and stopped off at the big Tesco near Blyton to buy booze, and headed up north to my mum’s house.
We had a really quiet festive season. A decidedly non-festive festive season, I supposed. My brother Oli and his perfect fiancé Norah came on Christmas Day, en route to Norah’s parents’ house, full of wedding planning excitement. Norah kept asking me questions about my wedding, which was uncomfortable at best.
‘What was the best thing about the day?’ she said. We’d had dinner and now we were chilling out in the lounge watching rubbish TV. Norah was sitting on the floor, rooting about in the Celebrations tin for a Twix while Oli and I lazed on the sofa.
‘What would you say was your absolute essential for a wedding?’
I grimaced. ‘I’d say making sure the man you’re marrying doesn’t turn out to be a liar is fairly essential.’
Oli stretched his leg out and kicked me. ‘Elizabeth,’ he said. ‘Be nice. Norah’s excited.’
‘Sorry.’ I took the chocolate tin she was offering. ‘It’s just hard to look back on the day because it was lovely, and then it all went to shit.’
Norah patted my knee sympathetically. ‘You’ll meet someone new,’ she said. ‘It’s not too late.’
I opened my mouth and Oli shot me a warning glance.
‘Nice,’ he hissed.
I rolled my eyes but I stayed quiet.
The rest of the time at Mum’s was just the two of us. I barely left the house, pottering round in scruffy clothes, with my hair piled on top of my head. Mum didn’t live in the house we’d grown up in any more, but I found my old childhood books in a box in the spare bedroom and spent the days rereading Anne of Green Gables, Little House on the Prairie, and all my old Baby-Sitters Club books. I ate loads of chocolate, drank quite a lot of wine, didn’t turn my phone on for days on end, and basically checked out.
At least, I would have, had it not been for Mum.
She came into my room one evening, in that weird time between Christmas and New Year. I’d had a bath and I was sitting on the bed in my dressing gown, reading Anne of Avonlea.
I looked up. ‘What on earth’s that?’
Mum was wrestling a large flat present, wrapped in Christmas paper. ‘It’s for you,’ she said, putting it down on my bed ceremonially. ‘I didn’t have time to do it before Christmas.’
‘Did you make it?’ I was pleased. Mum was retired now, but she’d been a teacher too – an art teacher. She was very creative.
‘It’s for your office wall.’
I pulled the paper off and discovered she’d collected all the press cuttings about our campaign, printed them out in various different sizes so they all fit perfectly into a large frame, and trimmed it in suffragette purple and green, with her own version of our campaign sashes – the ones designed by Nate saying Save Our School – across one corner. I was genuinely moved.
‘Mum, this is beautiful.’
She sat down on the bed next to me and crumpled up the discarded wrapping paper. ‘I wanted you to know how proud I am. You’re working so hard on this campaign.’
I felt my eyes prickle with tears. ‘I’m not sure it’s going to do much good,’ I said. ‘And …’
‘Was it hard seeing Grant?’
I nodded. ‘I knew it was a mistake to contact him, but I did it anyway.’
‘You did it for Elm Heath.’
I gave her a small smile. ‘And me,’ I admitted. ‘I sort of wanted to see him.’
I rubbed my thumb along the smooth edge of the picture frame.
‘He says he’s changed, and that I know where he is.’
I felt Mum’s eyes on me.
‘Do you think he’s changed?’
‘He went home before the press arrived.’
Mum raised her eyebrows in surprise, but I shook my head.
‘It’s not enough, Mum. There’s too much history, and …’ I paused. Mum and I got on well enough, but we’d never really had the kind of relationship where I told her about my love life, or – God forbid – she told me about hers. But suddenly I really wanted to talk about Danny.
‘I met someone else,’ I said.
‘But?’
‘What?’
‘It sounded like there’s more to this than just meeting someone else,’ Mum said. ‘Has it gone wrong? Is it because of Grant?’
‘Actually, no. This is something I can’t blame Grant for.’
Mum arranged herself on my bed more comfortably. ‘Tell me everything.’
So I did. I explained about our evening in the restaurant where – I’d thought – we’d been totally honest with each other, about his candour when he talked about Isabelle and their relationship, and about how I reacted whenever he was near me. And then I told her what had happened when I overheard him on the phone to Vanessa.
Mum frowned. ‘What did he say?’
‘He said he adored her.’
‘And what did he say to you?’
‘That he was sorting it. He said that twice actually. Once at school, and then again when I saw him at the pub.’
‘Oh, Lizzie.’
I threw my head back in despair. ‘Have I got it all wrong again, Mum? Have I done the same thing with Danny as I did with Grant? Thinking he was one thing and finding out he was someone else entirely? How can I be so stupid?’
Mum squeezed my arm. ‘You’re not stupid.’
‘What should I do?’
‘I think you need to speak to Danny and find out what is going on. Ask him straight out. Does he want to be with you? And if so, who is this Vanessa?’
‘I don’t want to. What if he says she’s the one he wants to be with.’
She gave me a stern look. ‘If there’s one thing I know about you, Elizabeth Armstrong, it’s that you’re not a scaredy-cat. You have never been one to run away from a tricky situation.’
I barked a laugh. ‘That’s absolutely not true,’ I said. ‘I ran away when things went wrong in London, and I’m literally running away right now.’
‘Is that what you think?’
‘It’s what I know.’
‘The way I see it, is things in London couldn’t continue,’ Mum said. ‘And you could have given up teaching. Or you could have stood by Grant and gone down with him. Either of those options would have been easier. But instead you faced the worst, found out exactly what had gone wrong, and you brushed yourself off and came back.’
‘Hmm.’
‘And now, things are tricky with Elm Heath but you’re not rolling over and letting it happen; you’re fighting for the school you’ve only worked at for a term.’
‘I suppose.’
‘So I think you need to message Danny and ask him to meet up. You need to know exactly what’s going on, because you can’t keep tormenting yourself like this. If you know the truth it’ll make you feel better. Even if it’s not what you want to hear, you can deal with it.’
She took my phone from my bedside table and handed it to me. ‘Do it now.’
Reluctantly, I took the phone and turned it on. It took a few seconds to connect, and then suddenly flashed into life, beeping as message after message came through.
‘What’s going on?’ I said in surprise, staring at the screen. I had ten missed calls from Paula, four from an unknown number and two from Blyton Council. I pressed to listen to my voicemail. Paula was first.
‘Lizzie, please call me back,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Things are happening.’
I had no idea what that meant. I shrugged my shoulders at Mum and listened to the next message. It was from the unknown number – who turned out to be Denise at the education department.
‘Please call me,’ she hissed. ‘The bigwigs are rattled.’
I had no idea what that meant either.
‘It’s like they’re talking in code,’ I said to Mum. I pressed to listen to the next message, which was from the council.
‘This is a message for Elizabeth Armstrong,’ the voice said. ‘Just to let you know, in the light of recent publicity, we’ve decided to hold a preliminary meeting regarding the future of Elm Heath Primary School, on Thursday 2nd of January at eleven a.m. I’m going to email you the details. Please could you confirm your attendance ASAP?’
I ended the call and grinned at Mum. ‘The council want a meeting,’ I said. ‘The publicity is working.’
‘What’s happening …’ Mum began, but she was cut off as my phone rang. It was Paula. I snatched it up and answered.
‘Finally,’ she said. ‘Do you know what’s happening?’
‘I do now. I’ve just waded through all the messages.’
‘This is brilliant. Where are you? Can we meet up to go through everything?’
‘I’m at my mum’s but I’ll come as soon as I can. We don’t have long until the meeting.’
‘We’re having a New Year’s Eve party tomorrow,’ Paula said. ‘Come home and come to the party.’
Suddenly, I really wanted to be back in Elm Heath, working on the campaign and seeing in the new year with my new friends.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll come home.’