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‘No I’m not bloody pregnant.’ Lucy couldn’t help it, she laughed, then shook her head. ‘Nutter. It’s worse. We’ve got Ofsted tomorrow.’
‘Ofsted and bring-a-pet-to-school? You definitely need a drink. Chill, you’ve got this, you spent half the summer break preparing for all eventualities. I’ve seen the colour coded spreadsheets.’
‘There isn’t any kind of colour coding to cope with Ofsted and animals at the same time.’ She frowned and peered at Sally as the comment sank in. ‘I’m not that anal am I?’
‘You are, but we all love you for it.’ Sally put an arm round her shoulders and handed her a far too big glass of wine.
If she drank all that she’d be as entertaining tomorrow as one of the worms that little Ted liked to keep in his trouser pockets.
‘I promised to take a pet in as well.’ Lucy sank down on one of the kitchen chairs. ‘Though heaven knows what. Gertie will chase any inspectors off the premises, no way can I take a fat pony, so Mischief is ruled out. The chickens are total hooligans, and Tigger the cat will have a field day if any of the kids take in fish, mice or hamsters.’ Which was what she hoped most of them would take in, anything bigger could be calamitous.
‘How about Pork-chop? He’s got a harness, and he’s cute.’
The pig was quite cute, she had to admit it, and he spent a lot of time just grunting and sitting down, which was a definite bonus.
‘Hell, I’m being pathetic.’ She looked up. ‘It just feels like there’s still so much at stake, we need an outstanding from Ofsted, and then we’ll be completely in the clear.’
Sally shook her head. ‘Totally pathetic.’
‘Sally!’
She fought a losing battle to keep a straight face. ‘It’s okay, you’re allowed to have moments of weakness. It makes you more human.’
‘What do you mean, more human?’
Sally flung her arms round her in reply, and squeezed. ‘Less perfect.’
‘I’m not per—’
‘We all like to see other people lose it a bit now and again, you know weep, explode, scream.’ Sally shrugged. ‘You keep it in most of the time.’ She tutted. ‘Not fair.’
‘You’re mad.’ Which made two of them. She had all this to cope with, and she’d agreed to have a dog?
‘At least Piper’s stopped being sick now. We can keep her until Friday for you, she’s no bother.’ Sally grinned, as though she’d read her mind. ‘Anyhow, I hear you should be celebrating. Charlie says you’ve sold your house and found a new one.’
‘I’ve got an offer, I’ve not said …’
‘You don’t look very happy about it.’
‘I’m in shock, that’s all.’ She tried a smile, and knew from Sally’s rolled eyes that it wasn’t convincing. ‘Well you know how I like to plan.’
More rolled eyes. ‘Don’t I just! Sorry,’ she laughed, ‘carry on, go on, tell me.’
‘Well making my own mind up that I want to do something is different to suddenly having it dropped in your lap, and somebody else almost making the decision isn’t it?’
‘It’s bossy teacher syndrome isn’t it? You like being in total control, don’t you Lucy Jacobs, and this is freaking you out. God knows how poor Charlie copes with you in bed.’
‘Sally!’ Lucy tried to glare. ‘But you’ve got a point about being a bit freaked out. I feel like I’ve been backed into a corner and my hand’s being forced. Though I’m sure you’ll be delighted about that, me showing my human side.’ She had actually been pondering over the summer about the possibility of selling the house, but she hadn’t quite got to the point of knowing it was what she wanted to do. Now this had happened. Which was fantastic. But scary.
Sally sat down at the kitchen table and studied her, looking serious. ‘You know I was only joking.’ Her voice was soft, concerned.
‘Yeah, I know, well I know there’s an element of truth in there too.’
‘So, what’s the problem? I know, you don’t want to become a country bumpkin like me.’
‘It’s not that.’
‘I mean, you live here now, don’t you? And it’s not often a nice place comes up for sale in the village. Gawd I’d kill for a chance like that.’
Sally’s words had a wistful edge, and Lucy instantly felt herself colour up with guilt.
‘Could you and Jamie get a place together?’ Lucy knew that Sally and Jamie’s relationship had positively exploded, and left the whole village agog. Not that they weren’t all pleased, and very relieved that the couple had finally started to date – after all everybody knew they were perfect for each other.
Sally and Jamie had known each other since they were children, but both had been worried about admitting that they wanted to be more than just good friends. Until Sally had finally taken the drunken plunge and admitted how she felt. After that they seemed to have been intent on making up for lost time. Lucy had never known two people so obviously madly in love with each other.
Sally shook her head. ‘Rentals hardly ever come up and the amount I get paid it’s hopeless. Jamie’s trying to save so that we can put a deposit down, but farming isn’t exactly the best job to be in right now.’ She sighed. ‘At this rate it’ll take bloody years, and lovely as they are I am getting a bit sick of living with Mum and Dad. Have you any idea what it’s like being asked what time you’ll be home when you’re my age?’ She rolled her eyes and Lucy laughed. ‘And don’t start me on the comments my dad makes about my clothes, you’d think I was twelve years old still. He actually asked if I was wearing a skirt or a belt the other day, how old is that line? And it was nearly down to my knees!’ She shook her head in disbelief, then gave Lucy her direct not-to-be-messed with receptionist look. ‘You’d be mad to pass on it.’
‘I know. But what if the school closes?’
‘That could happen anywhere. What if the world ends tomorrow? You get run over by a tractor? You get nits?’ Sally’s voice was gentle. ‘What’s the real issue here, Lucy? It’s not just about the house is it? Is this about Charlie?’
‘Charlie, what’s it got to do with …’ She stopped herself short. It had everything to do with Charlie, well maybe not everything, but quite a lot. ‘Charlie needs space for him and Maisie, a village is a small place.’ Lucy grimaced. If she was honest, she needed to know she had a bolthole, options, if it all went wrong. If she wasn’t wanted. Again.
In the last few months she’d finally managed to get rid of a lot of her insecurities, but there was still that lingering doubt. She’d spent a good chunk of her childhood feeling dispensable, as an adult knowing she had some security had always been important, the most important thing.
‘You don’t need to tell me that.’ Sally rolled her eyes dramatically.
‘What about when Josie comes back, what if it seems a better idea to move?’
‘Then move. But you don’t have to go back to your old place in Birmingham, do you? You don’t have to hang on to the past and look backwards, Lucy. The world’s your oyster.’
‘It’s just a bit of security, having that house.’
‘So keep it. Carry on renting it out.’
Which was what her head kept saying, but some part of her heart was telling her to let go. To be really brave, braver than she’d been in accepting this job. Follow her heart.
But she was scared.
Scared of waking up one day and realising she didn’t belong here. Scared that she should have stayed where she was, the place she understood. Scared that one day the past would catch up with her in this cute village and it would all be wrecked again. The nightmare of her dad leaving them had been replaced with the one of him finding them. A city was big. Anonymous.
‘Either way, it’s only a house, Luce. It’s not like some inherited mansion or something,’ she paused dramatically, ‘is it?’
‘No, it’s your bog standard semi.’ But it was her bog standard semi.
‘Well then, a place here sounds much better.’
‘I know.’
‘It just means you’ve got your security here, not there. And you can always move again. Here, anywhere.’ Sally paused, bottle of wine in hand, Lucy must have let her thoughts flitter across her features. ‘And you might always fall in love with somebody else.’
She gave a grim smile, ignoring the Charlie remark. ‘It’s a good source of income.’ The bottle of wine was still in Sally’s hand. Poised. ‘Are you pouring that or is this some weird mannequin challenge I don’t know about, Sal?’
But it wasn’t just about an income, security now. It was a decision. A step. It was letting go of her anchor.
Sally topped up their glasses. ‘Don’t stress about it. You’ll know, when the time’s right, you’ll know. Maisie likes you, doesn’t she?’ She tipped her head on one side and smiled. ‘She was in the surgery yesterday, talking about how she wished she could live with you all the time, instead of with Charlie who always says no.’
Lucy smiled back. ‘I like her too. She might go off me now I have my teacher hat back on though.’ It was hard not to fall in love with Charlie’s curly haired daughter, although she wasn’t always quite the angel she appeared – with her halo of soft auburn curls. They’d had a good summer, the three of them, but it was hard. She wasn’t Maisie’s mother, she didn’t want to get too close to her. A part of her held back.
‘What if Josie doesn’t come back? You know, says she can live with Charlie permanently.’ Sally was offering the other option.
She wasn’t ready to be a mother, she didn’t know how to be a mother. ‘Oh don’t be silly, she’s Maisie’s mum, of course she’ll come back.’ Then where would that leave her? But worse, what if Josie started laying down the law again, made it hard for Charlie to see his daughter?
Josie had taken Maisie away from Charlie once, she could do it again. And if a DNA test proved that Maisie wasn’t his, well, it didn’t bear thinking about. A hard lump formed in Lucy’s throat at the thought of him having to suffer again. Although she knew he’d fight. But was the law on his side?
Charlie had told her it was over between him and Josie, and she believed him. But who knew what would happen if it came to the crunch? If Josie insisted he had to choose between seeing his daughter, and seeing her? She’d have no choice, she’d do whatever she could to make sure he saw Maisie. No way would she ever want the little girl to grow up without her dad, like she’d had to.
They’d both held back since the start of term, Maisie was the important thing, Charlie’s priority now, and however much Lucy had fallen for the gorgeous vet she knew she couldn’t jeopardise that.
‘Pour the wine Sal, then seeing as it was your idea you can help me wash Pork-chop. He can’t go into school smelling of chicken poo.’
***
The Ofsted inspector stepped neatly round Pork-chop and squatted down next to Harry, who was clutching a small box.
‘Now, young man, who do we have here?’
‘Mario.’
Lucy’s heart sank, and she looked at Jill in alarm. Harry’s hamster Mario had sadly died in the spring and as far as she knew had been buried. Surely not? No, it was impossible, Harry couldn’t have dug him up. Could he? She edged closer. He was opening the box, the inspector was peering in. He put his hand in, and pulled out … a hamster treat, followed by a picture, and a tuft of fluff.
‘My dad said we had to bury him, but we made him a mim, mimo, mimor thing to remember him by.’
‘A memorial! How wonderful, what a clever boy you are.’
‘When the vet came in to school we talked all about him dying, and we drew pictures, and I took this picture home so I could put it in his mimoroyal box.’ Harry nodded wisely. ‘But I don’t look at it much now because I’ve got a lamb.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Well he was a lamb and I had to feed him with a bottle and everything cos his mum dropped dead.’ He shook his head. ‘Sheeps always do that you know. But that lamb is getting real bossy now, we’ll be having him with mint sauce soon I reckon.’
The inspector, looking slightly shocked, got to his feet and moved on to study the children’s books which had been laid out on a table by the window.
***
‘Well.’ Jill shut the door firmly and leant against it. ‘That was an interesting day.’
‘Gawd, I thought he was never going to go, I think Sophie producing her nit comb and telling him what her mam had to say about it was what finally convinced him he’d heard enough.’ Lucy sat down on one of the tiny chairs. ‘Any news on how the rest got on?’
‘No, but Liz Potts was singing so that’s a good sign. They’re in again in the morning, but we should get an update in the afternoon.’ Jill grinned. ‘I did overhear some comment about it being the first time he’s seen a pig in a classroom.’
‘And it will be the last time anybody sees one in my classroom, if it has anything to do with me. Roll on Friday.’ One thing Lucy was sure of was that tonight she would fall into bed exhausted – but at least she’d done her bit. Now all they could do was wait for the verdict.
Chapter 5 (#u00bf11a6-4a10-5799-82d0-ce36c65c3a7e)
Charlie couldn’t help it. He needed to talk to somebody, or he’d be snapping at Maisie and upsetting the very fragile state of her emotions. When he’d met her from school on Wednesday she had been bubbly, excited to tell him about her day, what Roo had done, and how she wanted a ‘pet day’ every day. But then she’d wanted to tell Mummy all about it, and Mummy unfortunately was not in an area with Wi-Fi. The skype tone had echoed out until he’d had to admit defeat, and the hope had died from her face.
Then he’d felt guilty. It had been his fault – even though where Josie was and what she was up to was totally out of his control. In fact everything seemed out of his control right now.
The week had gone downhill from there, when he’d had to explain that Roo wasn’t allowed in school again, and he’d felt a complete heel when ten minutes after collecting her from school on Friday he’d had to leave her with Sally while he dealt with an emergency.
And he wanted to talk to Lucy, desperately. He wanted to chat to her about the house, about the future, but in-between Maisie’s tantrums, his emergency call outs, and her evenings sorting lesson plans they hadn’t been able to grab more than a few minutes alone.
He squeezed his eyes together. He was totally knackered. He’d always loved being a parent, but being a single one was a different kettle of fish altogether. Especially when he was trying to run a veterinary surgery almost single-handedly, and his clients seemed to think he was available 24/7. Thank goodness he had the very capable Sally to help out, or he’d be really stuck.
But, keeping his professional life in order was nothing compared to trying to reassure his daughter that she was the most loved, the most wanted child in the whole wide world. That she meant everything to him. That although she felt like her little world had been tipped upside down, it hadn’t. That everything would be okay. He’d sort it.
He felt totally inadequate though. It had taken him quite some time to cheer her up when he’d finally finished work for the day, and when he’d tucked her into bed she’d been hanging on to a toy as though it was her only friend. When he’d gone up to check on her before leaving, the toy had been replaced with the Border terrier Roo.
‘Should she have the dog in bed?’ Sally who had been called in as emergency babysitter raised an eyebrow when she saw the sleepy child, and Charlie shrugged.
‘Maybe not.’ He sighed. ‘I’m a crap parent, but I know now why so many dads just say yes to everything.’ It had been so much easier when it had been the two of them, him and Josie, and to be honest Maisie had seemed so unflappable. She’d always been a happy child who had been easy to distract from her tantrums and was rarely demanding. Even the terrible twos hadn’t seemed to have a huge impact.
Now she was frightened; clingy in a way he’d not noticed before, and tearful. Maisie had always been the child with a smile on her face, and it worried him that she seemed to be getting more sensitive as each day passed. He had to work out what to do. He’d always thought he was doing okay as a parent, but now he wasn’t sure. Now he was scared he was failing her.
And he had to talk to Lucy about this bloody email.
‘I won’t be long.’
Sally nodded at his slightly curt tone, and her voice was soft. ‘Take your time, Charlie.’
Lucy didn’t answer when he knocked, and when he jiggled the door handle it was locked. He felt like sitting down on the step, closing his eyes and blocking out the world and his problems. Instead, with a weary sigh he headed back down the garden path.
She couldn’t have gone far, and if he didn’t find her, a brisk walk round the village would do him good and maybe clear his head.
The cobbled square was deserted when he strolled across, the shops shut up for the night. Only the sound of his own footsteps broke the stillness of the evening, and as he walked some of the peace leaked into his soul.
By the time he reached the village green he was feeling more positive. He wasn’t a bad dad, he wasn’t doing everything wrong. They just needed a bit more structure in their lives, he needed to reorganise – instead of trying to shoe-horn his daughter into the chaotic and over-busy life he had been leading.
There was a crowd on the benches outside the Taverner’s Arms, making the most of the warm September evening, and he soon spotted Lucy sandwiched between Jill and Timothy.
She waved as he walked across the grass.
‘We’re celebrating. Come and join us.’
‘Sit here young man, my supper calls me and it’s been a long week.’ Timothy stood up, and put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. ‘Goodnight all, thank you as always for all your hard work. See you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on Monday morning!’
‘Good Ofsted report then?’ Timothy’s upbeat attitude was infectious, and Charlie felt his spirits lift another notch.
‘Great.’ Lucy had a big grin plastered to her face. ‘Well we won’t get it in writing for a couple of weeks, but everything was pretty positive.’
‘I’ll get a drink, another?’
