Lucy couldn’t believe how fast the weeks had whizzed by. If she hadn’t agreed to extend her contract for another six weeks, and stay until the summer break, she’d already be thinking about saying goodbye to Langtry Meadows and the lovely children. Instead, it was the final week of the half term and she was getting ready for a week off and some serious gardening.
‘Now then my dear,’ the classroom door creaked open and all the children looked up at Liz Potts, who was looking more Mrs Tiggy-Winkle than ever in a pink and white summer dress with a full skirt, ‘this is Miss Jacobs, hasn’t she got a pretty classroom?’
She held out her chubby arms to encompass the room then looked down at the little girl who was doing her best to hide behind the secretary’s generous hips. ‘Miss Jacobs, this is Maisie who is here for a trial day.’ Maisie peeped round, one hand clutching Liz’s skirt, her big, brown eyes wide with trepidation, gorgeous auburn curls cascading round her face. ‘Her mummy is in chatting to Mr Parry, but if you need her just shout.’
Lucy had seen Liz escorting a parent round the school earlier at her normal breakneck speed. There’d been a flash of glossy red hair, pale skin and floaty silk blouse before they’d disappeared.
Timothy had told her she’d be having a visitor for a couple of hours. It was a normal occurrence, although she was sure much more common in the city schools she was used to than in this village.
At her last school they’d had children coming and going all the time, traveller’s children who stayed a few weeks then disappeared. They were used to change, to adapting, and hid any nerves with bravado. Then there were the ones who were used to their mother’s, or father’s, frequent change of partners. And kids who just seemed to have been born cocky and streetwise.
But for little Maisie she could see it was different. And she knew that feeling.
She’d told the children at registration that they were expecting a special visitor, that they should make her welcome and show her what a nice place the school was, but for some reason this ethereal child with her angelic features, cloud of hair and obvious fear clutched at her heart in a way she couldn’t remember ever feeling.
The big wide eyes stared into hers and she saw a tiny bit of herself mirrored there. This little girl had the look she was sure she’d had. The uncertainty. The hope that things wouldn’t be that bad. The fear of failure, of being unwelcome.
‘Maisie, I am so glad to see you! You’re just the person we need to help us make a very important decision.’ She held out a hand, and Maisie, her thumb in her mouth reluctantly edged forward. Lucy crouched down so that she was on a level with the girl, she dropped her voice to a confidential tone. ‘I hear you’ve got a very special dog and we really, really need to add one into our new pet display. You couldn’t help us out could you?’
Maisie nodded eagerly, her eyes brightening, and Lucy heaved an inward sigh of relief. The little girl’s mother had filled in all the advance information they’d asked for – which a lot of parents didn’t – and it gave her something to work with, hints on how to make the little girl relax and feel at home. Make her eager to come back the next term and see her new friends again.
‘Miss, Miss, can she sit next to me?’ Rosie had one hand in the air and was dragging a small chair closer to her with the other. Lucy looked at her, and opened her mouth to speak, but Rosie beat her to it. ‘I haven’t got anything in my pockets, no frogs or nothing, honest Miss.’
‘That’s very kind Rosie.’ Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jill grinning. ‘Is that okay with you, Maisie? Rosie loves dogs, she loves all animals, big and small.’ There was a splutter from Jill. ‘Don’t you, Rosie?’
Mid-afternoon break came round surprisingly quickly.
‘They’re very adaptable at that age aren’t they?’
Lucy joined Jill at the classroom window, and watched Maisie happily skipping around the playground next to Rosie and Sophie. ‘They are.’ She hadn’t been. But maybe it was all down to circumstance, luck, a million other things.
‘Her mother said she’s just got divorced, she said something about moving here so that Maisie would be near her father, he must live on that new estate. Some of the people out there don’t really use the village shop, and if they haven’t got family they don’t come to any of the events on the green, so we just don’t see them. Liz said that the move isn’t definite yet, but she wanted to be sure that the school would be the right one.’
‘Sounds complicated.’ Lucy sighed, it always was complicated.
‘At least the parents get on, it makes it so much easier for the kids if they can stay close.’
‘True. I didn’t see my dad after my parents split. Everything was strange and new, to be honest I felt like nobody loved me. Young children need to feel secure, wanted, and it doesn’t take much to shatter the illusion.’ And young children were so sensitive to the vibes around them, she knew that now. Happy parents made happy children, which was probably where it had all started going wrong for her at Stoneyvale. There had been a tension, something that she’d been too young to identify, but it had sown the first seeds of insecurity. Seeds that like weeds had flourished when she’d found herself in a new, strange environment. And it had taken her years to find her self-worth, find her own safe-place in the big, wide, world.
‘It must have been tough.’ Jill started to spread the paintings out on the window sill to dry. ‘I can’t imagine being dragged away from friends and the place you love. When I lost my husband it was the people here that saved me.’
Lucy stopped thinking about herself, she knew her eyes had opened wide. Over the last few weeks Jill had given very little away about her private life, she’d just been a hard-working caring co-worker who always had a smile and good word for everybody.
‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t…’
‘Oh don’t be sorry, I don’t tend to mention it.’ Jill smiled reassuringly. ‘It was a while ago, but working here, being involved in the village and all the bloody nosy busybodies saved me.’ She stopped shuffling the paintings around. ‘If I hadn’t felt I belonged somewhere, that people cared, I would have drowned.’
‘Oh Jill, I feel a complete fraud now. My problems were nothing like yours.’
‘They were to you.’ Jill patted her hand. ‘You were young, children need to feel secure. I lost my husband, but I’ve got some good memories, and we knew it was coming. I had time to prepare.’
‘You knew?’
‘He’d been ill for a while, but he made sure I’d be okay, I’d be provided for. It takes time to heal, Lucy, but we find ways to cope. Time doesn’t stop the hurt, you won’t get over it, it doesn’t make anything better, but it teaches you how to deal with the pain, how to cope and find a new slightly different way of living. We all need to be gentle on ourselves, I’ve learned that much. And we don’t have to expect everything to be all okay again, because it will always be different. You lost your father and losing a parent as well as your home must have been terrible, it must have felt like the end of the world at times.’
‘It did.’ It had done. Her father had as good as died that day they moved. ‘I suppose I felt totally rootless.’ She picked up a handful of paintbrushes and took them over to the sink, watching the colour wash down the plughole. ‘I felt alienated, I guess it coloured my view of the village. Left a nasty taste.’
‘Even though it had been okay?’
Lucy rubbed at the remnants of sunshine yellow paint. ‘Yep, it had been okay, once.’ She nodded. ‘I realise that now, but it had started going wrong before we moved, which is,’ she’d not said this out loud before, she hadn’t dared voice the feelings that had been gradually taking hold in her mind, ‘maybe why we did move. At that age though all I could see was that my dad had abandoned me,’ she paused, ‘I always thought that it was Mum, that she hadn’t liked it there.’ Thinking back, her mother had never talked about the village as though she’d liked it there, she talked more about where she’d been brought up herself and what a wonderful life they’d have in the future. ‘But now I’m starting to think that maybe it was more to do with my dad.’
Jill stopped what she was doing and put a hand on her arm. ‘It’s the experiences that make you who you are, stronger. If you’d never moved, would you be here now? Would you have been so determined to be a fantastic teacher? Would you be able to empathise with these kids the way you do?’
‘Elsie Harrington said something like that. I wonder what her secret is? Who she lost?’
‘I didn’t know she’d lost anybody.’ Jill frowned. ‘She is a bit of a mystery though. Like you.’
‘I’m not—’
‘You keep things that bother you close though, don’t you? When I watch you with the children I can see you really understand their issues, it’s genuine, it makes you a special teacher Lucy. But you should let people help you, we’re a good crowd really.’
‘I know. You love it here, don’t you?’
‘I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Now,’ she took the brushes from Lucy’s hand, ‘there’s the bell, let’s get the little horrors cross-legged on the mat and do some show and tell. I don’t know about you, but after clearing up all that paint I’m ready for the final bell.’
Lucy was ready for the final bell too when it rang. The sun was streaming into the school and she was dying to get home and sit out in the back garden with a glass of wine and the books she had for marking. Not that she was desperate to do the marking, but somehow sitting in the still slightly wild garden, with the sound of insects and birds, turned it into an almost pleasant activity.
She held a hand up and they all stilled and copied her. ‘Is everybody ready to line up? Right what shall we do today?’ She tilted her head and studied the children as though she was thinking. ‘I know, hmm I know class 5 can do this, but it might be too difficult for us.’
‘We’re cleverer than class 5, Miss Jacobs.’ Ted frowned at her, his face solemn.
‘Okay, let’s do shortest to tallest.’
At her last school getting her large class to form any kind of neat, quiet line had been a challenge in itself. More often than not, one or two would disappear under tables, some would dawdle round the display table reluctant to leave the safety of the classroom and return to parents who hadn’t got time for them, and others would do their best to seek attention by disrupting the children that were behaving.
Here, the children were children, mischievous and at times frustrating, but just as they’d run in at the start of the day keen to be at school, they were also keen to get home as the bell rang to mark the end of the day.
As the school had a policy of allowing the youngest children out first, her class always had a short wait until it was their turn. So Lucy varied how she asked them to line up. It kept them occupied for a few minutes so that they weren’t waiting and fidgeting for too long. Alphabetical order had caused the most chaos, with William insisting he was Billy (so that he could be near the front), Ted deciding he was Edward, and Sophie bursting into tears because she only had one name. Poppy had pointed out she could be Ophie if she wanted, which hadn’t gone down at all well.
‘Ted Wright, kneeling down does not mean you’re the smallest.’ Jill shook her head in disbelief. She held out a hand to Maisie. ‘You can stand with me at the back Maisie, and see what we do and then we’ll go and find mummy. How about that?’ Maisie nodded her head vigorously, auburn curls bouncing.
By the time order was restored and they’d made their way out of the classroom and to the main entrance, the youngest children were already leaving, toddling on still-chubby legs, delight on their faces, as they made a bee-line for their parents.
Lucy leaned against the doorframe, the children in a neat line behind her, jostling and giggling with excitement, knowing it was their turn next.
Across from the school, the village green was bathed in soft May sunshine. Charlie, his veterinary bag in his hand, was chatting to Elsie Harrington. Molly at their feet.
It wasn’t just Molly’s pups, and the ducklings busying themselves at the pond edge, that had grown since she’d arrived here. Langtry Meadows had changed since she’d first driven into the village for her interview. April Fools’ Day, she felt the smile tug at the corners of her mouth. She’d thought it had been foolish then, but like the leaves on the trees, something had unfurled inside of her, a different kind of promise had been made. It was as though Langtry Meadows had reminded her that another world existed outside the busy, city life she’d buried herself in.
Maybe she’d felt safer there, after all if you weren’t noticed, weren’t significant, if you had colleagues rather than friends, work rather than any kind of life where you interacted with other people, then you couldn’t get hurt, could you? You couldn’t be abandoned. She’d been invisible at Starbaston. She didn’t even know her neighbours at home. But here in Langtry Meadows it was different. Nobody, nothing, went unnoticed.
Molly, the retriever, was creeping towards the ducks. The mallard flapped his wings in warning once, then settled down to watch the dog as she edged forward. Tiny steps.
That’s what she was taking thought Lucy, tiny steps, but she hadn’t any idea what the prize at the end was supposed to be.
‘Is it our turn, Miss?’
‘Can we go, Miss?’
The children craned their necks, trying to spot their parents as they all stood just outside the school door.
‘Can I go, Miss? My mum’s over there.’ Ted pointed a chubby finger towards the far side of the playground, where Lucy spotted his mother waving wildly.
She grinned and waved back, it was impossible to miss the woman, who was as chubby as her son. As always she looked like she’d been in the middle of some farming activity when she’d realised it was time to pick her son up from school. Her wellingtons and overalls were mud-spattered (although from the wide berth the rest of the parents were giving her, Lucy guessed the brown stains weren’t just mud), a collie dog at her feet.
‘You can, Ted. See you tomorrow.’
‘I’ve got cows to milk.’ He declared self-importantly, then set off at a run, and Lucy waved at Mrs Wright, who gave a cheery wave back, before catching her sturdy son with a laugh as he cannoned into her.
Lucy smiled at Charlie, who had just turned away from Elsie, and clearly thought the wave had been aimed at him. He raised his bag, a broad smile on his face. He really was attractive when he smiled like that she thought. It lightened his serious features, and made him almost boyish.
She really couldn’t fathom him at all though. He’d been wonderful when he’d finally agreed to come in and chat to the kids, he didn’t talk down to them and was a real natural at explaining things in a way they’d understand – and responding to their random questions.
He’d actually looked quite relaxed by the time they’d finished and he’d been quite entertaining when he’d stopped for a drink with her and Jill, then half an hour later she’d been back in his bad books when he’d marched out of the pub.
Just like on May Day. When she’d been feeling a bit deflated, he’d been there. Somebody who understood. He’d helped her turn the corner, encouraged her to join in. Then he’d ended up being short with her after he’d got back from his visit to Serena. She sighed inwardly. What had got into the man?
Now though he actually looked happy to see her. And she was actually surprised how pleased she was to see him again, after a few days of not doing so. She’d been determined to give him a wide berth, the space he needed to sort out his own issues.
It had been nice to have a drink with him, but they’d both been on their best behaviour. Which was for the best. Getting involved with Charlie would be disastrous, he’d be leaving soon, and who knew what she’d be doing. And he had other responsibilities. But surely she was old enough, and grown up enough, to cope with being friends?
She grinned at him and waved back a little self-consciously.
Then he froze, his smile fixed and turning into a grimace. The colour drained from his face as though he’d seen a ghost. What the hell had she done now? All she’d done was wave back. She frowned, staring at him, then realised he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking straight past her left ear. At Jill.
It didn’t look like Jill had even noticed, she was busy talking to Maisie, who had found her tongue and was happily chattering away as the other children flew off in all directions across the playground. At least she was happy and settled.
Lucy sighed inwardly and glanced back. But Charlie wasn’t where he had been. In fact, there was no sign of him. How could such a big man disappear like that?
‘I’ll take Maisie back into Mr Parry’s office shall I?’
‘Sure.’ Lucy hardly heard Jill’s words. After a wild glance round she spotted Charlie, he was marching down the road as though he had a herd of stampeding bullocks on his heels. This wasn’t just him being Mr Grumpy. It was something altogether different.
‘Her mother’s in there. I don’t know if you want to talk to her? Maisie’s mum? Lucy?’
‘Of course, yes, er sorry Jill.’ It was weird. More than weird. He’d actually looked like he was running for his life.
***
‘Hi, I’m Josie, Josie Atkinson-Smith.’ Maisie’s mother held out a hand. ‘Sorry about the name being such a mouthful.’ She had a warm smile, and the same ethereal delicate quality that her daughter had, emphasised by her pale skin. Josie though, unlike her daughter, had her curls tamed into a sleek bob of hair that gave her a more serious and sophisticated air. A quizzical frown settled across her previously smooth brow. ‘Have we met? You look vaguely familiar.’
Lucy stared. She felt sick. The smile had thrown her for a moment, but there was no doubting it. This couldn’t be happening. Mrs Atkinson-Smith couldn’t be Josie.
Josie was Josie Davenport.
Maisie couldn’t be, oh God she couldn’t be Charlie’s daughter. Except those gorgeous big brown eyes were just like his. Her hand flew to her mouth. How had she not realised? She had to be. Charlie hadn’t been staring at Jill, he’d been staring at Maisie. His child.
‘I, er…’ What was she supposed to say? She stuck her hand out automatically. She had to say the right thing, the words that Timothy would expect. Why the hell hadn’t Charlie told her that Maisie would be starting school? No, no from the look on his face, he couldn’t have known, this was as much a surprise to him as it was to her. He’d panicked. Run off. ‘Lovely to meet you. I must admit I was wondering how we’re going to fit Maisie’s full name in the register. If, of course, she comes.’ But it meant Josie had made a decision, she wanted Charlie to be a part of his daughter’s life. She wanted to live here. Jill had said so.
‘Oh.’ Realisation settled across Josie’s features, which relaxed. ‘I know, you were on the green with Charlie, weren’t you?’
Lucy nodded, avoiding Timothy’s eye. He was shooting her a questioning look, and had obviously not put two and two together. Although why would he? From the little Charlie had said, it seemed that Josie had never been a visitor here. She’d been part of his new life, not the Langtry Meadows one. Nobody knew. Yet.
‘Well I must say, I’d love her to come here, she looks like she’s had a great time.’ Lucy felt her heart sink even lower, if that was possible. ‘Mrs Potts let me peek into the classroom earlier and she looked so relaxed and happy.’ How had she missed that? She could have rung Charlie, warned him. Been prepared. ‘Thank you for that, Mr Parry told me you’d win her over.’ She glanced over at Timothy Parry, who smiled back.
‘Lucy is our secret weapon. Nobody can resist her charms.’
‘Nobody?’ Josie laughed, a tinkling light sound that was hard to resist. Then she gave Lucy a sideways glance that was more loaded than Lucy could have believed possible. ‘I would love Maisie to come to the school, it’s complicated though.’ She paused. ‘I need to check a few things out, sort some arrangements. Living arrangements.’ This was getting worse by the second. Josie was back, and Josie it seemed was about to reclaim her husband’s heart. What had Charlie said? What Josie wants, Josie gets. ‘But I really do hope she can join you. I’ve filled all the forms in.’ She gestured at the folder on Timothy’s desk. ‘I’m sure things will work out, although I might be wishing I had your powers of persuasion.’ The smile was twisted as she looked at Lucy again. ‘But don’t worry about her name on the register, her dad’s is much shorter.’ The glance was a challenge, a statement of ownership. ‘I’ve always kept my maiden name for business reasons, and even though I’m separated from Maisie’s father it doesn’t seem fair to saddle her with that mouthful.’ The door opened and Maisie bounced in with Jill, her painting in her hand.
Josie jumped up from her seat and gave her daughter a hug. ‘Are you going to say thank you?’ She took Maisie’s hand, and the little girl grinned.
‘Thank you Miss Jacobs, thank you Jill.’ She looked doubtfully at Timothy. ‘Thank you Mr Parry.’
‘You’re very welcome, Maisie. Did you have fun?’
Maisie nodded her head, then glanced up at her mother. ‘You promised we could go for posh cakes if I was good and didn’t cry.’
‘And we can. Thanks again everybody, it’s a wonderful school. I wish I’d gone to one like this when I was Maisie’s age!’
Maisie tugged at her hand. ‘It’s not like a school. It’s not at all like the one I go to now. Did you know they’ve got chickens?’ Her eyes opened wide and she stressed the last word so hard they all laughed. ‘But I like my own school too you know, I don’t really need a new one.’
‘I know, darling.’ Josie kissed the top of her head, and for a moment looked sad. ‘I know.’
‘Cake time?’
‘Cake time!’
Lucy let Jill show them out of the school. She cast a last look round to double check that Charlie really had disappeared, then grabbing her cardigan, bag, and pile of books and waving goodbye to Jill she set off after him in the direction of the village square.
She had to talk to him, it was clear that nobody at the school had caught on, but they soon would. Or it might be better not to talk to him. He had Maisie to think about, and Josie.
She hesitated. It was none of her business. It would be better for Maisie if they could be a happy family again, if she kept well out of it. She slowed down as she realised her legs were actually trembling.
But he’d looked upset. He was upset. She felt ill. Despite all her best intentions she’d just realised – this wasn’t just lust and a hard-to-control urge to kiss the man, she really cared for Charlie. She wanted to be there for him.
Josie had ripped their family apart, but was now trying to stick it back together and she had to help, whatever her personal feelings. Her mother hadn’t been able to do it for her, but for Maisie it was different.
And she could help Charlie through this. Make a difference.
***
Picking up speed again she trotted over the cobbled village square, and was just about to turn down the lane that led to home, and the veterinary surgery, when a small figure caught her eye.
Elsie Harrington was waving. The last thing she needed right now was a gossip over the garden fence, but she couldn’t exactly steam past and pretend she hadn’t seen her.
‘Lucy, Lucy!’ Elsie Harrington, her normal even tone quavering, looked at her in relief.
‘I’m sorry, I’m in a bit of a hu—’
‘Oh thank goodness you’re here.’
Lucy ground to a halt, suddenly noticing that the old ladies’ top was askew, and her face creased with worry. ‘Elsie, slow down, what on earth—’
‘It’s Molly, look.’
Lucy looked. The dog was stretched out on the garden path.
‘We’ve just got back from our walk and she just wobbled, then fell over. I can’t get her up.’ Elsie looked distraught as she gently stroked the dog’s head. ‘I can’t leave her, but nobody was about, I’m so relieved you came by.’
Molly looked from Elsie to Lucy, and gave a slow wag of her tail. Then as Lucy opened the gate, she struggled to lift her head. With an effort she struggled to her feet, then licked Lucy’s hand.
‘Oh good heavens, you’ve got the magic touch dear. I was so worried.’
Lucy smiled, she didn’t want to rush off, but she really needed to talk to Charlie.
Molly sat down again. ‘Oh Molly, you gave me such a fright.’
‘I’ll help you get her in the house, Elsie, make sure she’s okay.’ She resisted the urge to look at her watch as she dropped her books on the path and helped encourage the dog into the house.
‘Do you think I need to call Charles? I’m probably making a fuss about nothing, but…’
‘I’m popping in there now, Elsie. I’ll get him to come down and set your mind at rest. But I’m sure she’ll be okay, look at her, she’s looking so much better already.’
‘Oh I don’t want to waste his time.’
‘You won’t be doing, and you know how much he likes to see you and Molly.’ She smiled at Elsie reassuringly.
‘Oh thank you dear, you’re such a sensible girl. Now you get off to wherever you were rushing, Molly and I will be fine.’
Lucy gave the old lady a hug. She didn’t know about being a sensible girl, but she did know that there was one issue Charlie clearly needed to get off his chest to somebody.
Maisie.