Lucy stretched, then threaded her fingers through her hair and yawned. She didn’t feel like she’d had a refreshing night’s sleep. She felt like she’d spent the night chasing the children round the flaming maypole. That was something that would stay in her memory for quite some time.
She blinked in an attempt to clear her head, then snapped the kettle on and leaned against the sink, staring out of the window. It was another beautiful morning, the type that was hard to ignore. Whether she decided to stay until the end of the summer term, or go now, she really only had such a short time left in Langtry Meadows that she couldn’t ignore a day like this. It deserved to be savoured. Even if the sensible side of her was saying she had school work to do, and her head was saying another nap would be nice.
Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the bag of stale bread crusts that she’d been saving for the ducks. Even after they’d gorged on the leftovers yesterday she was pretty sure bread would still be appreciated, and it gave her a reason for going out. A purpose.
The kettle clicked off, filling the kitchen with steam and she scooped a generous spoonful of coffee into a mug and filled it with hot water. That was what had always been important in life, having a purpose. She’d always been certain of where she was heading, and now all of a sudden she wasn’t. Which was why she hadn’t slept.
Timothy wasn’t asking for much, just a commitment for one more half term. So what was stopping her? She was fairly sure that Annie would be delighted to have her stay and look after the cottage. She could even put her house on the market for short-term let and stay here over the summer if she wanted. Have a holiday. It was years since she’d had a proper break and this could be the ideal opportunity.
Well, real life was stopping her for one thing. Keeping her career on track. Paying her mortgage. If she agreed to this, she was derailing her plan, and she’d never even thought for one moment about changing her goals. Not since the day she’d waved goodbye to high school and walked into university.
She’d been certain then of what she had to do, where she was heading – and it involved marching forwards, never looking back. Her future didn’t lie in a quiet backwater, it lay in the places that weren’t pretty. In the places where one wrong turn, one wrong friendship could change your life for the worse forever. It was in places where she could give kids confidence, help stop the bullying and the singling out of kids who were slightly different, it was about being in a place where she could make a difference. It was about making children feel wanted in a way she knew they needed to be.
Growing up in Stoneyvale, she’d never questioned that life could be anything but good, and that friends wouldn’t be there forever – until a year or so before they’d moved. In that last year she’d become the little girl that nobody wanted to be friends with. The one they barged past in the playground. If Amy was there it was okay, on the days she wasn’t she stood alone. Watching. Flickering tentative smiles that were ignored. Hoping somebody would talk to her. Making daisy chain bracelets on her own.
It was just the same in her new school. Everybody hated her, she didn’t belong. That was how it had felt back then. But an eight year old girl probably wasn’t the most objective person in the world. She knew that now. Langtry Meadows wasn’t Stoneyvale. She wasn’t that frightened little girl any more.
When they’d moved everything had changed overnight. Even her mother. But when she’d moved up to high school one person, one teacher, had listened to her when her mother had been too busy with her own problems, with the upheaval of building a new home. One teacher had steered her away from the bullies, had given her the confidence to concentrate on her work, had understood teenage angst and how to explain that it wouldn’t last for the rest of her life – even if it felt like that then. It had taken a while, but soon she had a plan, a future mapped out and then the horrible things didn’t seem to matter quite so much. Corny as it had been, she’d decided she’d be that teacher. The one who listened. The one who made a difference.
But now she seemed to be on rocky ground, or more like sand that shifted underneath her feet. Nothing was how she’d thought it was. Yes, she did still want to be the teacher that made a difference – but even places like Langtry Meadows needed teachers like that. She was doubting her memories though, wondering if she’d got it all wrong. Wondering if the sour taste in her mouth about Stoneyvale, had been something she’d held on to for all the wrong reasons. Nothing was how she’d thought it was, not even Charlie.
She groaned. For the first time in years she wasn’t sure what she really wanted.
With a sigh Lucy sat down at the kitchen table and opened up her laptop. Logging on she opened the email that had arrived on Friday (gosh was that only a couple of days ago?). It was from the recruitment agency. They were aware that her cover position would soon be at an end and were pleased to be able to inform her of a teaching vacancy closer to home. A cover position, with the possibility of it leading to a permanent post in a senior position in September. Did she want them to forward her details?
The perfect job. So why was she hesitating? She couldn’t quite believe that she hadn’t instantly banged off a reply shouting ‘Yes!’ But she hadn’t.
So now she had a choice. All hers, and agonising. She could stay here, try and help rescue the school. Help not just one child, one class, but make a difference to the whole village. And risk losing the opportunity of a permanent position close to home.
Or she could go home. Take on a cover position that she was fairly confident would lead to a job in September. And she’d be back on track. Secure. Able to pay the mortgage. She could leave the whole nightmare of her redundancy behind and work towards a position on the school leadership team.
A no-brainer.
Lucy groaned and buried her head in her hands. She wasn’t getting anywhere, just going round in circles. It was Sunday, so not a good day to progress anything, then tomorrow was a Bank Holiday but come Tuesday she would do something positive. Make a decision.
She picked up the bag of stale crusts and her keys. A walk and some fresh air would do her good. Then she’d come back and treat herself to a bacon sandwich.
‘Good morning, my dear. Do you mind if I walk with you?’
Lucy smiled at the elderly, immaculately dressed woman who was standing by the garden gate outside the large house next to the church. She’d seen the woman a few times, walking a dog, watching the children as they played out during the school day. She’d been at her gate watching the start of the May Day procession, a pair of large sunglasses, flamboyant hat and colourful silk scarf had made it impossible to miss her.
Her silver-grey hair was scraped back into a neat bun, with one or two tiny tendrils that had escaped giving her an almost winsome look that was at odds with the rest of her appearance.
‘Of course I don’t.’ Lucy had actually thought an early morning stroll, on her own with only the ducks to talk to, would have helped get her thoughts straight. But there again she’d spent the best part of the evening on her own and it hadn’t helped. Although it was no wonder after the number of drinks she’d had. ‘No dog with you this morning? She’s not ill is she?’
‘Oh no, not ill. Well only with a severe case of mummy-brain.’ She tutted and shook her head as she pulled the gate firmly shut behind her. ‘A darling dog, but since she’s had the pups her hormones seem to have sent her doolally.’
‘I’ve heard it can have that effect on women.’ Lucy knew her tone was dry, but the lady laughed.
‘I like you. I knew I would.’ She chuckled again. ‘I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Elsie Harrington.’ The old lady held out a hand and Lucy automatically took it. The woman didn’t immediately let go. ‘And you are Lucy, our new teacher.’
‘I am. Well, I’m the cover teacher until Becky gets back to work.’
‘If you say so dear.’ She winked and released Lucy’s hand, then waved her stick. ‘Are you heading down to the green? A Sunday morning walk is good for the constitution. Not the same without Molly of course, but I’m sure you’ll be just as good company.’
‘Molly?’
‘The dog dear, golden retriever. Loathe to leave her babies, she’s being quite pathetic, just grins apologetically at me and flaps her tail as though it’s all too much effort. Not at all like my old Rosie, she was a border collie. Mad as a hatter, didn’t let motherhood get in her way at all.’ The way she said it took the bite out of the words, and Lucy was sure she was devoted to her dog. ‘Do you have a dog dear?’
‘No, er I used to when I was a child, but I’m just looking after Annie’s animals now.’
‘You should get one. Damned good company they are, and people will always talk to you if you have one. That’s why I got my Molly. Swore I wouldn’t get another after Rosie went, but life just wasn’t the same. If you have a dog you’ll never be short of somebody to talk to, and I don’t just mean talking to the animal,’ she smiled, ‘although you get more sense out of them than you get out of people sometimes. But look at young Charles’ waiting room, full of women wanting a chat.’ She chuckled, an unexpectedly dirty laugh. ‘Can’t climb trees though you know.’
‘Charlie?’ Lucy was startled, tree climbing was not something she’d imagined to find on Charlie’s CV.
‘Oh good heavens no. The dog. Molly. The collie used to climb trees, would be straight up there after the squirrels. Quick as you like. You should have seen the look on the squirrel’s face first time she did it.’ She hooked one hand through Lucy’s arm, and leant on her walking stick on the other side. Though Lucy wondered if either prop was really needed. ‘She was a feisty little thing was Rosie, kept me amused. But my Molly is far more sedate, suits me better now I’m old and doddery.’
‘You’re not—’
‘Oh believe me I am my dear, I creak when I move. Damned old age. Molly has her mad moments, but she’s much more suitable for an OAP like me. Lovely dogs they are, retrievers, had them when I was a girl. You can have one of the pups.’
‘But I…’
‘Annie won’t mind.’
Annie might not, but how could she explain that she’d be going before they were even weaned? That her house wasn’t really in the ideal spot for dog walking. That she didn’t really want to get attached to an animal.
Despite her logical thoughts though, a pang of longing hit her. Sometimes it felt like leaving her old home, leaving the dog, had only been yesterday. She could remember curling up on her bed, desperate to wrap her arms round his warm body and bury her face in his fur. Smell the doggy comforting smell, feel him breathing steadily, keeping her safe, secure.
‘You’re a village girl, aren’t you?’ The old lady didn’t wait for a response. ‘A city girl wouldn’t just slip into life here in the way you have. Take that young Serena,’ she waved her stick flamboyantly, ‘stands out a mile, and Felicity. Have you met Felicity dear?’
‘I don’t think—’
‘Desperate to fit in, but she never will until she stops trying. Not that I’m saying there is anything wrong with them. This way dear, we have to say good morning to the ducks. But you are different. Much different. Now, I have to ask, have you considered Timothy’s proposal?’
‘Well, I…’ Lucy had thought the discussion had been in confidence, but obviously nothing was in Langtry Meadows.
‘We had a stroll and a chat yesterday while the Morris Men were doing their worst. There are some traditions that I’d be quite happy to see the back of, so noisy. All that jangling bells and leaping around like court jesters.’ She tutted again. ‘I’ve known Timothy since he was in short trousers, he can’t keep a secret from me! You coming here was for a reason dear, the school needs you and I rather think you might need the school.’
Lucy didn’t know whether to be cross or laugh, but Elsie Harrington didn’t give her chance to do either. In fact, the way she jumped from one train of thought to another it was taking all her time to keep up, let alone contribute.
The elderly lady waved her over towards the bench, then easing herself down she patted the empty spot next to her.
‘So dear, do you have a lot of friends where you are now? Is that your worry? Good friends will wait you know.’
‘Friends?’ Lucy paused. ‘I keep in touch with my friends at college, but everybody is so busy.’ And she’d been busiest of all, determined to leave with more than just qualifications. Teaching wasn’t going to be just a job, like some of her friends had seen it, it was going to be her life. ‘They work all over the country now so it’s hard to keep in touch.’
‘But you have new friends, where you live? Neighbours?’
She’d had colleagues rather than friends at Starbaston. Apart from Sarah of course. Sarah had been a good friend. But everybody had their own lives, all dispersed in different directions at the end of the school day. ‘It’s difficult, teaching is so full-on these days with all the lesson planning you need to do.’ How did she explain it to Elsie, who had been brought up in another much slower time, with no Ofsted, or league tables?
Back in the day when teachers were trusted to teach.
She was up late every night in the week, and at the weekend by the time she’d tidied the house, all she wanted to do was flop down and watch a film, eat pizza and fall asleep before she’d finished either.
‘You lead such busy lives these days, you youngsters.’
Her rapid promotion hadn’t helped either. ‘I was promoted as well and had to kind of keep a professional distance.’
‘Ahh, you mean people were jealous? There are always those who will be passed over and blame the achievers, rather than seeing their own short comings.’
Some had been jealous, but it hadn’t helped when the head had emphasised the need to keep a professional distance. Naively she’d gone against her natural instincts, taken his advice, and wished she hadn’t. The staff needed to work as a team to overcome the massive problems. Like they seemed to do here, in Langtry Meadows.
She wriggled on the bench, feeling uncomfortable. Elsie Harrington was inadvertently painting her as a sad, work-obsessed, lonely singleton, which she wasn’t at all. In fact, since she’d been in Langtry Meadows she’d spent more evenings out than she’d spent working. And she had, very briefly, had a date organised for tonight. Although she very much doubted that was going to happen now.
‘I do go out sometimes, but we’re all the same. Once I’ve been teaching longer I’ll have things in place, it will be a lot easier.’ Once I’ve stopped needing something to hide behind.
‘So it isn’t friends that you’re bothered about missing. Something else.’ She tapped her stick on the floor. ‘Langtry Meadows is a pretty place isn’t it dear? I feel so lucky to be part of it. Do you mind me asking about this village you were brought up in, and why you left?’
‘Well, to be honest I can’t remember that much about it. I was only eight when we moved, when my parents split up. I don’t remember Stoneyvale being as pretty as Langtry though, it was bigger.’
‘And you moved far away?’
‘To the edge of a nearby town, it was all Mum could afford. Things weren’t the same after that, the kids on the estate hated us, they said we were country bumpkins, and my old friends kind of drifted away.’ She paused. ‘Well friend.’ She wondered why she was telling an old lady this, she’d never really told anybody. But there again, had anybody asked? ‘I didn’t seem to fit with anybody anymore.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘I thought maybe Amy wasn’t keen on visiting my new home, it was too rough.’ She shrugged. ‘Nobody wanted to know us, which kind of put me off village life a bit.’ Major understatement. Except now she was starting to see it in a slightly different light.
‘Children can be like that, terribly cruel and selfish. Especially girls. Thoughtless.’ They could be. But she’d felt abandoned. ‘And your mother, was she happy?’
Lucy was ashamed to realise that she’d always just assumed her mother was okay, she certainly always put a bright face on things, a positive spin.
‘She was a bit manic, always rushing round.’ Always working, saying she wanted life to be normal – but forgetting what normal had been like. ‘She didn’t have a moment to stop, talk.’
‘It can affect you like that, loss.’ Elsie’s tone had softened, and Lucy wondered what she’d lost herself. But didn’t like to ask. ‘Children should be cocooned, and we try our best, but sometimes we can’t come up with the perfect solution can we? We can be too busy aiming for the sky when we should be smelling the roses. A mother can lose sight of the very things she is trying to protect. But I’m sure she was trying to do the right thing.’
‘Oh she did, she worked so hard.’ Lucy had seen how her mother had worked to the point of cheery exhaustion to make sure they survived, but had never thought of her mother’s loss. Losing her home, her friends, her husband.
‘Maybe there was more to the move than you realised? Sometimes it’s hard to explain to children, easier to leave things unsaid.’ Her lips were pursed as though she was thinking about things that she wasn’t voicing.
‘Oh I knew she hadn’t got any choice, it was all she could afford and we hadn’t even got a car so it would have been difficult to stay in the village.’
‘Or maybe she didn’t want to, Lucy? If it had been a truly happy place for her, for all of you, I’m sure she would have found a way of staying. Mothers have rights if they have children.’
How come Elsie Harrington had managed to hit the nail on the head so cleanly? It was only in the last few days that she’d started to realise things hadn’t been as straightforward as she’d assumed. That she’d started to question their family life, exactly who had walked away. And why. ‘She was happier once we’d moved. More tired, but more relaxed. Isn’t that strange?’
‘Not really my dear. It rather sounds like it was your new home that was an unhappy place for you, but you blamed your previous friends, your old life, for not being there to support you. Whereas it sounds like for your mother it was the other way round. Not that I know anything, I’m just a silly old woman.’
‘Oh you’re not. But, honestly, I’m not complaining. I do love Mum, but you’re right I hated where we lived, hated not fitting in, hated the fact she had to do so many jobs and had to be out all the time.’ Oh hell, she felt so guilty now. She’d never actually stopped to think about it all from her mum’s point of view.
‘And you vowed that you’d be independent, it would never happen to you again? You would be in control.’
Lucy squirmed uncomfortably, and Elsie patted her knee with an arthritis gnarled hand.
‘There is nothing wrong with wanting to be independent my dear, working hard, but from what Annie told me before she went off on her travels, you’ve maybe been working a little too hard?’
Lucy shrugged. ‘Well not really, I mean I’m only just starting my career, I need to prove myself.’ She needed a base, security, so that no matter who or what happened in the future she’d never have to be uprooted again. She’d vowed that she’d never have to watch her children lose everything. But maybe it hadn’t been about money, about her father leaving, maybe sometimes life wasn’t that simple.
‘The governors at the school were very impressed with your credentials my dear, and for one so young. Remarkable.’ She frowned at Lucy. ‘One might say driven.’ She waved at the ducks. ‘You’ve brought bread?’
Lucy had forgotten all about the bread, all her thoughts had been hijacked. She started to tear little pieces off and throw them.
‘And you really don’t have fond memories of village life?’
‘Well I’m not really sure to be honest. I had a dog, friends, fun, but then all of a sudden I didn’t. Everything had gone. I didn’t belong there, or in my new home.’
Village life had always seemed a backwards step, she’d been determined to move on and working in a city gave her better prospects, opportunities that didn’t exist here. Security. Or so she’d thought. She’d never stopped to think about the good bits of her childhood, until Langtry Meadows and its inhabitants had started to nudge the memories back to the front of her mind.
‘But your new life is better.’ Elsie patted her hand. ‘Well done, dear. Good for you. The only problem is that we tend to have rather selective memories. Good and bad, don’t we?’ She sat back, and they watched as the ducklings circled at the edge of the pond. ‘I suppose you are right though, village life is rarely “darling buds of May” perfect.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Well I’ve been here all my life my dear, and for the most part it has been good. But we haven’t always had sunshine and fresh strawberries. In my childhood there were wars, unhappiness, and a good summer doesn’t always help the heart recover from loss.’ For a moment she looked faraway, sad, and then she snapped back to the present. ‘I try to remember the good bits though my dear. The positive. It would be incredibly sad to let that get spoiled by the things you can’t change, wouldn’t it?’
‘Well er, yes, I suppose so.’ She screwed up her eyes and tried to remember. There were vague memories of happy times with her father, the whole family picnicking in the fields behind their home. But most of the good bits had been squashed down by the weight of bad memories around the time they’d moved. Elsie was right, it was sad. ‘We were the broken family in the village though,’ more than broken, they’d been on a downwards spiral that she was sure was something to do with her father, ‘In the city, once I’d grown up I found out we were the same as everybody else. Everybody was struggling to sort their own problems, disguise the imperfections. We were happier, in the end.’
‘So your mother did the right thing.’ It was a statement, not a question. ‘But you need to remember that however hard you look, you’ll never find perfection, Lucy. Now,’ she paused dramatically, waiting for Lucy to look at her, ‘what on earth is happening with Charles? I hear that ex-wife of his was making a nuisance of herself.’
Lucy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, talk about nosey neighbours, this woman knew everything. She couldn’t help herself, she blurted it out without pausing to think. ‘She brought their daughter to see him.’
‘Daughter?’
It was genuine surprise. The old lady pursed her lips. ‘Ahh, I knew there must be something behind his return here, and his reluctance to talk. He was always an open book when he was younger. So sad. I am relying on you to look after him, my dear. Now, you must give my regards to your mother, and bring her round to see me if she visits. And you should talk to her, clear the cobwebs.’
‘I know, she said she’d come for a chat.’
But it didn’t change the fact that staying here could be such a bad career move. The school was under threat. Her CV would soon look like a minefield of bad decisions – redundancy in one post, followed by school closure at her next. Even she would be wary of employing somebody with that kind of record.
‘It’s always worth looking on the bright side. I’m a realist my dear, but where is life without optimism? Oh my, is that the time? Lovely to chat to you Lucy.’ Elsie stood up and peered down. ‘Langtry Meadows is such a delight in the summer, it would be such a shame for you to miss it. Just remember, our lives are never quite as neat and tidy as we plan, but where is the fun in that?’ Her eyes seemed to be twinkling, and Lucy had a sudden desire to see what Elsie was like when she was younger.
‘Has your life been tidy?’
‘Oh no my dear, not at all. Total lack of control.’ She chuckled. ‘Although there were times I wished it had been. But hiding from things never helped, it didn’t protect my heart. There are things in my life that I should have faced up to, but I’ve left them too long. Far too long.’ She sounded almost wistful. ‘It gets harder my dear to turn back the clock, there are right and wrong times to make choices.’ She smoothed her skirt down briskly. ‘Do pop in when you’re passing, it would be lovely to have another chat. And if you do decide to leave, don’t forget to come and say goodbye.’