In a Class of His Own (15 page)

Rupert
grinned. “Don’t know but the bloke I pulled up next to at the
traffic lights in Farley Road thought so. I thought he was going to
have a heart attack!”

I
laughed again. “Thanks Rupert,”
I sighed and looked at him with affection. “I really needed some
light relief after a day like today!”

We were still laughing as
we retraced our steps back to the school entrance, calling goodnight
as we went. Some of the staff had got into the habit of meeting every
Friday for a quick drink in the local pub and the others were coming
along later. I’d been pleased when they’d included me in the
invitation and tonight I really needed a drink. It had been one of
those weeks and my throat was dry and tickly with what I fervently
hoped was just dehydration. I couldn’t afford to be ill now.

As we
passed Mona’s
office she and Jack came out. He gave me a frozen stare as we passed
and didn’t reply to our cheery goodnight. Well, he can’t have it
both ways I thought crossly. I’m keeping the relationship ‘on a
professional basis’ or whatever he’d

said so pompously back at
the beginning of term. Since then I’d had as little to do with Jack
as I could manage. I’d tried desperately hard to maintain as
professional a stance as possible. But I had to admit to myself that,
while on one level this was easier on the heart, I missed the softer
side of Jack that I’d been given a glimpse of so briefly. And I
regretted the look in his eyes as Rupert steered me possessively
through the school doors.

A sick feeling rolled
around my stomach.

“Care
for a lift?” Rupert drawled. He was really quite posh. He spoke
with perfect Received Pronunciation which matched his languid good
looks. I nodded absentmindedly, my thoughts full of a difficult man
whose short vowels and brusque northern accent did far more
unspeakable things to my insides.

When
we parked up at the pub Rupert
switched off the car’s engine and turned to me.

“Nicky,
I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Oh no, here it comes I
thought, panicking slightly.

“Aah,
would you like to go out one night? For a film or a meal? There’s a
half decent Thai in town. It’s just opened. Got rave reviews in the
local rag at the weekend.” Rupert flashed a hopeful grin at me. He
had very white teeth.

“Rupert,
I really like you but -”

“But?
No go?”

I
thought rapidly. I genuinely liked Rupert
and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But I suspected I could only
ever feel friendship for him. How could I let him down gently?

“I
don’t think it would be a good idea to mix work and a personal
life, especially at the moment.” I spoke slowly, thinking about my
choice of words carefully. “And I am your line manager after all. I
think it might be best if we kept our relationship on a purely
professional basis, don’t you?” I couldn’t believe I was
parroting the very same words Jack had used on me. I just hoped I
didn’t sound quite as pompous. I softened mine with a sympathetic
smile as Rupert was looking crest-fallen.

A thought occurred to me.
Desperate measures. “I know Ann is really keen on Thai food. Think
she went there on holiday last Summer,” I began wildly. “She’s
so lovely.” I trailed off. Rupert now looked horrified. I bit my
lip at my tactlessness.

“God
no! I couldn’t get rid of her at the Christmas do. All she kept
doing was bang on about how her dress was a wedding dress and didn’t
I think she looked like a bride? Hardly subtle, Nicky!”

No I
thought, hardly subtle but resolved to get these two together if it
killed me. I could do with a project to take my mind off my own
heartbreak.

As I
reached for my bag my hand met with something cold and smooth. I
gave a shriek.

“Rupert
I may not be able to accept your kind offer of a meal but I think I
may just have found Charlotte’s jaw-bone!”

I held up the gruesome,
bone coloured object. It looked horrifyingly realistic in the faint
light given out by the pub’s windows.

“Nicky
please!” Rupert said, in a wickedly accurate impersonation of
Helen’s hectoring tones. “Don’t you know anything? It’s a
mandible!”

I
laughed and then breathed a sigh of relief as I climbed out of
his Mini. I knew it was going to be all right between us.

We
were so geared up and mentally prepared that the inspection itself,
during the penultimate week of the spring term, was actually not too
bad. It’s never pleasant to have every aspect of your working life
scrutinised and challenged but the inspectors were surprisingly
approachable. I even managed to bond with one, a charming man called
Huw Davidson, when I discovered we had a mutual interest in the
poetry of Tennyson. It Helped,
of course, that Jack had worked with Huw before and knew the rest of
the inspection team as well. They in turn obviously had huge respect
for Jack’s ability and while I can’t say it was the most pleasant

week at school, I was
amazed at how everyone worked together to make the best impression
possible.

Janice,
Ann and Rupert
worried their way through the lessons in which they were observed
teaching but thankfully passed muster. As predicted, Helen was very
nervous when Huw observed her. He had some concerns over the quality
of her teaching but our long discussion afterwards seemed to sway his
opinion. He eventually deemed her lesson ‘Satisfactory.’ I
winced, on Helen’s behalf. Satisfactory is such a damning
judgement.

The children had picked
up on the strained atmosphere and

even the youngest were
aware that something important was afoot but they were a credit to
the school. Even Spencer managed to behave himself for once. My heart
swelled with pride at what Jack and the rest of us had achieved.

On the
last day of the inspection Jack and I were treated to a gruelling
question and answer session by the team leader; a sharp-eyed woman
called Annabel Haytor. She had fiercely cropped silver hair and an
impressive pair of earrings that caught the early spring sun in a
distracting fashion, hurting my eyes. Throughout
the day we were questioned on every aspect of how we managed the
school. We were challenged on the minutest detail of the school’s
weaknesses and had to draft the school’s development plan for its
future. By the time the afternoon session began, after a quick break
for a late lunch that I couldn’t eat, I was exhausted with a
pounding head and a silly tickly cough that refused to go away no
matter how much water I drank. As I tried to talk my way through yet
another coughing fit Jack excused us and led me out of the office.

“Nicky,
I think we’re nearly finished here,” he said in a gentle voice.
He put a hand on my arm. It was the warmest he’d been towards me
for ages.

“You
look exhausted. Why don’t you go home and I’ll take it from here.
Annabel will understand.”

When I hesitated he
repeated, “Go home. You’ve done enough – more than enough. It
wouldn’t have been the success it is without you. But you’ve done
enough now. Go home.”

His
sudden kindness affected me far more than the abrupt
treatment I’d been receiving from him so far this term. He was so
much more like the man I remembered from before Christmas. Quick
tears constricted my already sore throat. I’d cried over this man
far more than over anybody or anything else for as long as I could
remember. And there seemed no hope that there was any resolution in
sight.

I
mumbled my thanks and turned to
go.

As the
door was closing behind him I heard Annabel say, “I’m so pleased
they’ve finally persuaded you to take the London job, Jack.

”After
croaking a miserable goodbye to Mona, I made my way home. If Jack was
going onto another job perhaps it was just as well. I couldn’t take
much more of working so closely with him and being treated as a
stranger.

I
spent most of the weekend sleeping. I still felt completely exhausted
and didn’t know whether to put it down to the inspection, a virus
or to
heartbreak.

On
Sunday I made a supreme effort and called Mum. She and Dad, along
with Joyce, were flying out to Spain that evening. We had, between
us, made it a mission to persuade Mum that she could do it but I
could tell she was still deeply reluctant to go. I was afraid that if
she suspected I was unwell she would refuse to leave.
After forcing myself to chat bracingly to Mum, convincing her that
she really would have a lovely time with Andy and Inez, I collapsed
coughing back into bed.

The
following morning I dragged myself into school. My limbs felt like
leaden weights and it took ages to do even the simplest of early
morning routine tasks. I knew from the brief look I’d braved in the
mirror that morning that I looked awful. Limp haired, red-eyed and
white-faced I steeled myself to croak through the morning’s
lessons. If I could just get to Wednesday, the last day of term, then
I could spend the two-week
Easter holiday recuperating.

Memories
of the rest of that day are hazy. At lunchtime
I couldn’t face eating but suddenly felt in need of fresh air and,
as I was passing Jack’s office on the way out of school, I
collapsed in a boneless heap right outside his door.

I came
to in my own bed in my own bedroom. The door to the sitting room was
open and I could see the TV flickering silently. I heard the gentle
tap of someone using a computer and frowned. Leaning out of bed I
could see Jack’s legs stretched out in front
of the sofa and his hands moving rapidly over his laptop. The
movement made me cough violently and as I took a long draught of
water Jack looked round and, seeing I was awake, came into the
bedroom.

“You’re
awake,” he said, a little awkwardly. “How do you feel?”

I
thought about it. My limbs still felt feeble and my head was muzzy as
if stuffed with cotton wool but I didn’t feel the complete
exhaustion I had been suffering from over the last few days.

“Better.
I think,” I tried out my voice. It came out several octaves lower
with a huskiness that, if I had been feeling better, I would have
said was quite sexy.

Jack raised his eyebrows
and smiled a fraction.

“Where’s
Mona?” I rasped out. I vaguely remembered her business-like hands
as she had tucked me in. But when was that? I’d lost any sense of
time and didn’t even know what day it was. It seemed a lifetime ago
that I was at school.

“She
had to go home,” Jack pursed his lips thoughtfully. He didn’t
seem to particularly relishing his role of nurse. “She’s got cats
to feed and a rehearsal tonight.”

I tried to raise enough
enthusiasm to reply that I’d remembered she was in The Players but
had only enough energy for another coughing fit.

“I’ll
get you some more water,” Jack murmured more kindly, as my body was
racked with unattractive spasms. “Is there anything else you’d
like?”

I managed a shake of my
head.

As I
sipped the cool water that he’d brought back,
I couldn’t help wondering why he was there.

“What
time is it?” I struggled to look at my bedside clock and gave up.
The curtains were closed so I couldn’t tell if it was light or dark
outside.

“It’s
about seven,” he replied, looking swiftly at his wristwatch. Then,
when he saw my questioning look, added: “In the evening. Tuesday
evening. You’ve been asleep off and on ever since we brought you
back from school yesterday.”

He
gave me a look which I couldn’t read. “Mona
looked after you today and she’s coming back tomorrow. You were so
ill we didn’t like to leave you on your own so I’m doing the
night shift.” He thrust his hands violently into his jeans pockets
and added, “When I rang your parents there was no reply. Are they
away?”

“Spain
– with Andy,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Right,”
he nodded. “Well, the doctor said it was a combination of the virus
that’s doing the rounds and sheer exhaustion. You should have told
me how you were feeling Nicky.”

I looked at him from
underneath my eyelashes and he had the grace to look uncomfortable,
as well he might.

“Yes
well, I’ll let you get back to sleep. I’m just in there.” He
jerked his head in the direction of the sitting room. “If there’s
anything else you want just shout.”

I looked at him with
humour.

“Well
– just croak then.”

I struggled to turn over
the pillows which had become hot and uncomfortable and found I hadn’t
the strength. Ridiculous.

“Here,
let me,” Jack came forward and held me to him with one strong arm
while he rearranged the pillows. I sank down on them again
gratefully. The cool side of the pillow was blissful on my hot head.

“You
make a good nurse,” I croaked. “Lots of patience.” I closed my
eyes in relief. And then opened them again, as I realised he was
still standing over me.

He shook his head. “You
have no idea, Nicky,” he breathed and there was a kind of grim
humour in his tone.

When I
woke later all was dark. The clock told me it was two in the morning.
The TV was still flickering and I could see a dark head resting on
the arm of the sofa in the other room. Jack appeared to be asleep. I
felt absurdly comforted and fell back
into oblivion.

When I woke again it was
morning.

“Good
morning Nicky. Can I get you a cup of tea?” Mona appeared in my
bleary vision, sounding as crisply efficient as ever. She threw open
the curtains and opened the window a fraction.

“I
must remember to introduce you to my father,” I laughed which then
promptly turned into a cough.

“That
would be delightful,” she called loudly, ignoring my sarcasm. She
frowned, “You don’t sound much better, dear.”

Her voice reverberated
around my throbbing head. Oh bring back Jack, I thought feverishly.
He was a much more restful nurse. But I had to admit that the fresh
air from the open window was like benediction to my clammy skin. I
lay there, hazily wondering if I had the strength to get to the loo.