The Cold Cold Sea (12 page)

It was the truth, too, she thought. No point embarrassing poor little Hailey.

She hunted through the spare clothes box until she found a pair of knickers and a skirt that looked as if they might fit, and sent the child into the cloakroom to change.

‘It’s alright, the others think you just spilled some water,’ said Katie gently, when Hailey came back with her wet clothes in one hand. ‘Hailey, is it a problem for you, getting to the loo on time?’

Hailey stood there, her head low.

‘I know we said that you should always ask before going to the cloakroom,’ Katie said, making her voice as understanding as she could. ‘But if that’s difficult for you, then you can go without asking. Alright?’

A brief smile flickered over Hailey’s face and Katie nodded. Hailey was going to need lots of support during these first few weeks, but she’d be running around with the other kids within no time, Katie was sure. Although she reasoned it might be an idea to see what Mrs Marshall felt about her daughter’s introverted behaviour. And where had Hailey been to pre-school? Maybe she could speak to a previous teacher. She would need to have another look at the school files.

‘I’ll put your clothes in a plastic bag for you to take home,’ she said. ‘Off you go for lunch.’

Hailey’s face fell a mile and a half at the mention of plastic bags, but she turned and trotted off towards the dining room. Katie stared after her.

She turned into the school office on her way to the staffroom. The children’s files were here; she had seen them all before term started, but now that she could put names and faces together it might be a good idea to look at some of them again. It wasn’t only Hailey’s introversion that needed an explanation, there was Derek and his stutter - perhaps there had been a speech therapy report about that.

The secretary, Beverley, produced both files, and Katie flicked through them. There was all the information she could possibly want about the five years of Derek’s life, including a speech report, but Hailey’s file seemed on the thin side.

‘Can I take them with me?’ she said, and Beverley nodded.

‘Sure. Just don’t take them home.’

After school that afternoon, Katie went out to have a quick word with Hailey’s mother about the wet clothes episode. Mrs Marshall was standing by her car with Graeme’s mum, who was chatting away in a deep, posh voice. When Katie approached with the plastic bag and Hailey in an over-large skirt, the other mother very obviously grasped the significance of what had happened, grimaced sympathetically at Mrs Marshall and melted away with her son.

Katie smiled at Hailey’s mother, whose face had turned slightly pink. She seemed to accept Katie’s assurances that this wasn’t at all uncommon at the start of the school year and Hailey was in no way to blame. With a thin smile and a ‘Thank you, that’s very kind’, Mrs Marshall opened the car door for Hailey.

Katie watched the BMW drive off. The more she saw of Hailey’s mother the more intimidating the woman seemed, which might well explain Hailey’s reaction.

Back at her desk, Katie opened Hailey’s file. The child had been given a cancellation place just three weeks before term started. Hailey didn’t appear to have attended preschool or nursery education anywhere, in fact apart from the registration form, the only other documents were a copy of her birth certificate, and a doctor’s certificate signed just last week. Katie saw that it was noted Hailey’s father was away, and so all contact would be through the child’s mother. It all looked rather rushed. What with Mrs Marshall being pregnant, and an absent father, Katie could see that Hailey had a lot to cope with at the moment.

‘Katie! How’s things?’

Mark was standing in the doorway, and Katie grinned at him. According to his lunchtime report, his class of nine-year olds was rapidly losing their awe of their first male teacher. Mark looked more tired every time she saw him.

‘We’re fine,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Spent a long time painting today, so the walls are looking less bare.’

Mark came in and wandered over to where Katie and the children had pinned up fifteen child-like works of art that afternoon.

‘Seascapes,’ he said, gazing at the blue and green waves and splashes.

‘This term’s theme is The Ocean. I’m taking them beachcombing on Monday, if the weather is okay.’

‘Sounds good,’ said Mark. ‘I’ve got a sea life poster, if that would help.’

‘Thanks, I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. I’m planning to start a fish tank, too - not that that has much to do with our sea project.’

‘I have a better idea if you want something oceanic,’ he said, looking at her. ‘There’s a brilliant seafood restaurant just this side of Polpayne. Let’s go there for a meal sometime. My treat.’

Katie hesitated. She definitely wasn’t looking for any kind of romantic involvement with a colleague. On the other hand, three days’ experience of Mark in the staffroom had taught her that he was both funny and friendly. One meal couldn’t hurt.

‘Great idea, but we go Dutch,’ she said firmly. ‘And as colleagues.’

‘Colleagues and friends,’ he said, equally firmly. ‘I’ll book a table for tomorrow night, how’s that?’

Katie agreed, and Mark gave her a quick grin before leaving the classroom. She packed her things and jogged across the car park, looking at the space where Mrs Marshall usually parked.

Smiling at the contrast between her own little Clio and the Marshalls’ BMW, Katie drove towards Polpayne. She could hear breakers crashing up the beach below, and sniffed appreciatively as a fresh, tangy smell floated into the car. It had turned into a real wild weather day, the sea was going mad down there.

Stopping for the lights at the harbour, she sat watching as a gangly youth pasted a new poster in the bus shelter. The image he was covering was tattered and ripped, a little girl laughing into the camera. Katie recognised her as the child who’d drowned near Newquay that summer, a beautiful little girl with tangled dark hair.
Have you seen Olivia Granger?
was printed in thick black lettering above the photo. The boy smoothed an advertisement for an insurance company into place, and the little girl vanished.

Soberly, Katie put the car into gear as the lights changed. No child deserved to die like that.

And now she was off to the pet shop to find out about fish tanks. The day’s work wasn’t done yet.

Jennifer lay in bed as the dimness outside gave way to early-morning sunshine. The delicate flowery pattern on the curtains that matched the bedspread grew lighter, and she gazed around her. It was a beautiful room, but she should really have been asleep at this time of the morning. It was only half past six and here she was, awake for the day. The babies she was carrying were early risers - or one of them was, anyway.

Jennifer stroked her extended tummy. Not long to go now. She’d been to the antenatal clinic yesterday and Dr Rosen had assured her that everything was going well. Both babies were well-developed, and all they needed to do now was grow. Jennifer turned on her other side, feeling the babies roll and squirm before settling down again.

There was no reason to get up yet. She had set Hailey’s alarm to go off at seven, and after oversleeping just once since school started, her daughter had become a good riser. Jennifer relaxed into her favourite daydream.

Mother of three, in spite of the Black Patch. The world had looked like a black and white film then, colourless, jerky, the sound distorted. But that was all over now.

If only she wasn’t so alone here. Of course Phillip was close to his Gran so it was only natural that he’d want to be with her in the last weeks of her life. What they hadn’t known was that the old lady would linger so long, and LA was too far away for him to pop back and forth. It was a no-win situation for Jennifer. If she told Phillip about the babies he’d be on the first plane home, but then her beautiful surprise would be ruined. She wanted to see for herself the expression on his face when he realised that he was to be a father again. She would just have to wait. He’d only been away ten weeks, which was nothing really. The surprises would be a comfort to Phillip when Gran died, and a little extra time to improve Hailey’s behaviour would only be an advantage.

A frown creased Jennifer’s brow. That stupid child had brought wet clothes home from school two days running now.

It was embarrassing. Miss McLure had been very pleasant about the whole thing, but what must she have thought? And the silly girl still needed pull-ons at night. Jennifer had blamed that on the pills when they were at the farm, but Hailey only had the very occasional pill now and she was still wet every blessed morning. Lugging sheets in and out of the washing machine was no fun at all when you were seven months pregnant with twins, so any kind of training, with the risk of relapses, would have to wait. It was infuriating. A cleaning lady was out of the question, too, they couldn’t possibly have a stranger nosing around the house. Jennifer knew she would just have to battle on with Hailey. But wetting during the day - that was quite inexcusable.

Jennifer shivered angrily, then made herself relax. If it happened again, she would have to take matters into her own hands. Hailey was spoiling their perfect family life. There was always something to worry about. The latest was the permission slip that Miss McLure had sent home yesterday.

Hailey’s class was going to a beach on Monday. When Jennifer had first read the slip she’d had to sit down. Were schools allowed to take the children to dangerous places like that? One teacher couldn’t possibly watch fifteen children all at once. And Hailey didn’t like beaches.

A second look at the note had reassured her slightly; it said specifically that they weren’t going anywhere near the water and there would be three adults with the children. But Jennifer knew she wouldn’t be able to relax until Hailey was safely back home again.

One of the babies shifted, as if the uncomfortable thoughts had disturbed it. Jennifer breathed out shakily. Everything would be alright.

Hailey only needed time, Miss McLure had even said so. If only Phillip could come home soon, he’d straighten his daughter out in no time. A smile tugged at Jennifer’s mouth as she pictured her husband. How worried he had been during her Black Patch, and how relieved when the blackness had departed and colour came back into her life.

In the meantime she would just have to deal with Hailey by herself.

A baby inside her kicked again, and Jennifer smiled lovingly. ‘It’s alright, sweetie-pies. Mummy’s right here.’

The morning air was cool and damp, a subtle reminder that September was more than half over and summer was making way for autumn. Katie whistled as she drove towards Polpayne Castle Primary, then chuckled aloud as she realised that she was looking forward to this morning’s outing as if she were one of the children herself. It was her first school trip with the class, a two-hour expedition to the beach to collect shells and seaweed for their ocean theme. Her pupils were all highly enthusiastic about it - or most of them were.

Katie frowned, thinking about her two ‘problem’ children.

Derek Cameron had more going wrong for him than a mere stutter. He was rude and boisterous with the other children, and Katie wondered which had come out first, the aggression or the stutter. She hadn’t yet found a way to get through to Derek, which worried her.

And Hailey Marshall seemed to be plain backward, to use a non-professional description. It wasn’t only the poor bladder control; both her speech and her drawing were those of a considerably younger child. Much of the time she just sat there in her own little world, brown eyes vacant and strands of thin hair straggling from the headband she obviously hated wearing.

Katie didn’t understand the child, and as Hailey rarely talked in more than monosyllables it was difficult to know where to start. She needed help, so much was clear, but Katie didn’t know if she was the right person to provide that help. An expert might do better. On the other hand the child had only been at school for a week, it was a bit early to start dragging psychologists into the picture.

Driving past, Katie glanced at the restaurant she’d been to with Mark. It had been a surprising evening in more ways than one. Mark had outed himself as a fish-eating vegetarian, and away from school he was altogether more serious, talking intelligently about his life and plans for the future. The time had flown by and it was nearly midnight when he drove her home. So the one thing Katie had worried about hadn’t come into the equation - whether or not to invite him in.

‘I won’t ask you up for more coffee, if you don’t mind. It’s a school night, and I need my beauty sleep,’ she’d said as he pulled up under the streetlight by her flat.

‘Now you know yourself that’s not true,’ he said, getting out to open the car door for her.

Katie stood in the front doorway, watching as he drove off down the road.

She knew it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with someone at work, but couldn’t ignore the smile that was spreading across her face.

Katie pulled up in her usual space in the teachers’ car park, where Jeanette McCallum was emerging from her car.

‘Morning, Katie. You’ve got a good day for your trip!’

‘Thankfully,’ said Katie, looking towards the distant ocean. She lifted the plastic bag containing her expedition clothes and grinned at the Head. ‘I wonder how many of the kids have remembered jeans and jumpers - I told them they were old enough to take a message like that home without me writing letters. Everyone who does remember gets an extra sticker for their fish poster.’

Jeanette laughed. ‘Bribery and corruption, works every time!’

The children were buzzing round the cloakroom, hanging up blazers and changing shoes for slippers. When Katie arrived they all hurtled into the classroom and crowded round her.

‘We’re going, aren’t we, Miss McLure?’

‘It’s warm enough, isn’t it?’

Katie smiled round the circle of excited faces.

‘It’s the perfect day for a beach outing,’ she said gaily. ‘Not too hot, not too cold, and not too windy. Now, who remembered to bring old jeans?’