One Small Chance: a novella (a Love Story from Portugal) (4 page)

“Mr. Ackerley will be assisting Miss Antunes and assessing the demands of our school,” Dr. Varela continued, as he patted Ackerley on the back.

Ackerley approached the microphone and adjusted it to his height. “Thank you, Dr. Varela, and thank you everyone for the warm welcome. I’m looking forward to working with you, and with Miss Antunes,” he turned back to look at her, “and, of course, the students.” He smiled again.

After a few more words from Dr. Varela, he and Ackerley descended and shook hands with some of the teachers. Isabel took the side stage, eager to leave before she was roped into any of it.

“Isabel.” Cristina grabbed her arm. “It’s him, isn’t it?” She turned to the assembly room.

Isabel stopped and turned as well. “If you mean my new assistant, yes, it’s him,” she ground the words out.

Cristina stepped closer to the edge of the stage, bringing Isabel by the hand. “No, I mean the guy on the bike.” She paused, watching him. “I’m pretty sure he’s the biker you crashed into on Friday.”

Isabel let out a slow breath. “Yes, he’s the biker from Friday. He crashed into me, not the other way, remember?”

Cristina stared at him unabashedly. “Well, he sure cleans up well, doesn’t he?”

Isabel looked at the guy one more time. He wore pressed green pants and a light cream button-down shirt with a ridiculous checkered necktie that somehow complimented both colors. Not many men could pull off such a style, and yet he wore it easily and with confidence. She didn’t remember well, but he’d probably been wearing sports clothes on Friday.

Cristina tugged at her arm. “Let’s go say hello.”

Isabel pulled away. “Let’s not.” She walked towards the corridor. “I need to check my schedule for the week.” She’d have to make changes now.

When Isabel reached her office, she closed the door and leaned against it. She inhaled deeply. Her hands were clammy and she ran them down her slacks. She stood for a few minutes, grappling with her thoughts over the recent blow.

For that’s what it was. A blow to her career, to her life. After dedicating all her time to the academy for the past eight years, they had brought in someone to replace her under the guise of updating the digital system. An older, more experienced man who was a native English speaker, which was what all the parents preferred. So he wasn’t British, but they would easily overlook that. Maybe he’d come to update the online portal but he wasn’t here to assist her. He was here to be trained by her and then take her place. The parents’ council was moving forward with their plans to remove her. She closed her eyes at the thought.

A knock sounded at the door and she jumped back. Isabel quickly walked behind her desk. “Come in.”

Simon Ackerley walked in. “Miss Antunes, might we have a word, please?”

The way he said her name grated on her. “It’s Antunes, not Antoo-nesh.” She picked up the tablet on her desk.

“Yes, Antunes,” he repeated in the same way as before. “I mean, Miss Antunes.” He stood for a moment, looking at her. “Your friend was just telling me about your hospital stay and your injuries. Miss Fonseca, I think?”

Cristina and her big mouth. “That’s right, Miss Fonseca. She teaches mathematics to the upper grades.” Isabel paused to look at him. “And to be clear, I wasn’t at the hospital for that long.”

He smiled again. “I’m just glad to see you recovered. I tried to follow you to the hospital, but no one would tell me anything, and I had to stay behind to give a statement to the police officer. I wanted to make sure you were all right, and I’d like to offer to pay for any expenses incurred.”

The nerve of the man. As if she couldn’t pay her own bills. “Free medicine, Mr. Ackerley, just like in England,” she replied smoothly. “No bill.” Even if there was a bill, he wouldn’t be paying for it. “But I appreciate the offer. As you said yourself, I am recovering well.” Except for the soreness on her backside and the bruises under her sleeves, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She should probably take off the bandage on her hand. The younger children had a tendency to be overly interested in what lay beneath it.

She swiped at the tablet and set it down. “What can I do for you, Mr. Ackerley?”

“I’m looking forward to working with you as I introduce the needed changes to the system. Dr. Varela said no one else is more qualified than you to bring me up to date about the academy’s needs.”

“Of course, Mr. Ackerley. As the academy’s director, I know everything that is going on.” Almost everything. “I do my job well.” She smoothed the sides of her blouse. “But I’m sure there’s always room for improvement.”

He cleared his throat. “Well said. And I’m looking forward to working with you in bringing about the best for the academy.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’ll be a mutually beneficial relationship.”

That was too much. “Now, just hold on.” Isabel came around the desk to stand in front of him. “Let’s get one thing straight. We don’t have a relationship of any kind. We’re just co-workers. I’m being forced to train you for a job I’ve been working at for over three years.”

“I’m not here for that,” he said.

Her eyebrows rose. “Maybe you are, and maybe you’re not. But if it comes to a choice between you and me, I know they’ll give it to you because you’re a native English-speaker and you’re a man. It’s not fair and I don’t like it, but I can’t do anything about it except do my job so well that they’ll be thinking twice about bringing you in at all.”

Simon held her gaze. He opened his mouth as if to say something more then closed it.

Isabel kept her posture straight. He didn’t step away from her and they stood almost toe to toe. She’d worn flat, sensible shoes today when she could have used the advantage of a pair of heels. The irony. Maybe she should tuck a pair in her office for situations like this, especially if she had to work with him every day for the next three months.

He nodded at her. “Very well. As you wish. But I didn’t come here to be your enemy, Miss Antunes.”

She’d be the judge of that.

 

* * *

 

Simon entered his office and sat down. His heartbeat had slowed, but his mind was still trying to catch up to the events of the last half hour.

That moment when he’d met Isabel Antunes. He’d never forget it.

It was her, the girl he’d been thinking about since Friday, the one who had the letter he’d sent to Amélie.

After spending all weekend berating himself for not finding out who she was, he’d hardly believed his good fortune when he saw her standing in the chairman’s office.

The impression had blasted through him, louder and clearer than at any other time in his life.

It’s her.

If seeing his letter with her had not been enough, now he had another confirmation. A very clear one.

He could drop the plans to put a trace on Amélie’s emails, something he’d been reluctant to do in the first place. Putting together the puzzle of little clues he’d gathered over the years hadn’t been as fruitful as expected. But now he didn’t need any of that.

How could it possibly be? How could Isabel Antunes be his friend Amélie?

Simon shook his head. Indeed it was her.

It was an unlikely chance, but a miracle had brought him to Amélie on his first day of work. Still, he couldn’t reveal himself to her.
Hi, I’m Elliot, your pen pal.
He blew out a breath, then began pacing the small space in front of the desk.

No, he couldn’t. He had to prepare her first, see how she felt about meeting in person, or even find out if she was interested in meeting. There was too much to consider.

Besides, he was at the academy with the specific goal to discover who’d been siphoning small amounts of money from the academy’s funds, and Dr. Varela had insisted on a confidentiality clause. The changes and improvements to the online portal were secondary and could probably be done in less than a month, but he was staying for the whole term or until the culprit was found. And now everything had just become more complicated.

He rubbed the back of his neck, as if the gesture could brush away the thoughts coursing through him. The shock hadn’t quite abated yet, and probably wouldn’t for some time. A visit to the temple was what he needed, but the closest one was in Madrid, and that would require planning and some time off. He’d pray tonight when he got home.

For the time being, he had to pretend his life had not just been turned upside down.

Simon pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. The first bell would ring in ten minutes. Before he changed his mind, he walked back to Dr. Varela’s office.

He knocked, barely waiting for a reply before swinging the door open. “Dr. Varela, we need to talk.”

The chairman looked up from his desk and frowned. “What’s the matter, Mr. Ackerley?”

Simon closed the door. “I must insist on telling Miss Antunes the true nature of my presence at the academy.”

Dr. Varela waved a hand. “We already discussed this. The board feels it’s better not to tell any of the faculty and staff, and I happen to agree.”

“But Miss Antunes is the director and responsible for everything going on at the academy, is she not?” By not telling her he’d been hired to track the embezzler, Simon risked alienating her when she finally found out. He hadn’t liked the idea before, but now with the discovery of her being Amélie, he didn’t want to keep yet another secret.

“She’s mostly responsible for the day-to-day management of the academy and all that it entails. She is also the liaison with the parents.” Dr. Varela rested his elbows on the desk. “As the chairman, I’m the one responsible for the faculty and staff, and until you discover some clues as to the identity of the culprit, everyone is under suspicion. And that includes Miss Antunes.”

“But I think—”

“Mr. Ackerley, this matter is not really up for discussion.”

Simon’s shoulders dropped. “Yes, sir.”

“If you don’t mind then, I’d rather not have to talk about this again.” Dr. Varela gestured towards the door. “Isn’t Miss Antunes waiting for you?”

Simon nodded and returned to his office. He stood in the small place and took a deep breath, trying to turn his mood around.

After the announcements for the week and day were read, Isabel Antunes would be accompanying him on a tour of the academy and grounds. It had been his idea, to gain a sense of the place and the people, something completely different, since he usually worked behind a desk and never went on field jobs. He reached for the pad and pencil on the desk then inhaled again, rolling his shoulders to drop the tension squeezing at him. The feeling of certainty about Isabel being Amélie persisted, but he had to put it aside for now and examine it more at home.

He had not planned for things to go this way, had he? Of all the times he’d daydreamed about meeting Amélie, working with her was the furthest one from his mind. Such a turn of events.

He caught up with Isabel in the foyer of the school.

She held a large tablet against her chest and he half expected her to produce a skeleton key that opened all the realms. The mental image brought a small smile to his mouth and she quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Are you ready, Mr. Ackerley?”

“Looking forward to it, Miss Antunes.”

They started the tour in the main office and reception area. “This is Miss Soares, our full-time secretary, and Miss Silva, her assistant.” Simon nodded at both women. “They speak English but you’ll soon find out that not all of our staff does. In most cases, we don’t require bilingual employees when they have less direct contact with the students.”

They left the office and took the lower hallway.

“That makes sense. How many students do you have enrolled?” He had a report somewhere in his messenger bag, but he’d rather get the facts from her.

“One hundred and sixty-three students this semester.” She frowned a little. “Yes, we’re a small school. We like to keep the classes small for more personal interaction between teachers and students. Classes in first through third grade have twelve to thirteen students and fourth through sixth grade average fifteen to sixteen students. The lower grade teachers have full-time assistants and the upper grades have teacher specialists that allow for rotations and class work in smaller groups.”

She took him next to meet the librarian and media specialist, the head custodian, and the janitors. The kitchen had two cooks and the cafeteria two servers. Once outside on the grounds, he met the gardener who came on Mondays and Thursdays.

They stopped at the far corner of the playground where the lower grade classes were enjoying morning recess.

Simon leaned against the wall and took some notes. “How is the security handled?”

“Through an independent security company. They handle it remotely and also on site.” She held up her badge. “All personnel have their own security badge and it identifies their entries and exits at the academy.” She turned the badge around and showed him a key. “Dr. Varela and I have keys, as do some of the senior staff and faculty.”

Dr. Varela had issued Simon a card as well, along with passwords for everything else. He slipped the notepad in his pocket and looked around the adjacent courtyard. Mature trees offered shade over several areas and scattered benches throughout the area had spaces where students and teachers could sit and read. By the back door to the kitchen, raised beds with vegetables and herbs brimmed with late offerings.

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