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Authors: Alison Littlewood

A Cold Season (15 page)

BOOK: A Cold Season
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Cass nodded. Lucy had almost reached the Land Rover.
Sally was leading Ben inside, one hand on his back. The other boys followed at a distance.

One of the Land Rover’s doors opened and closed, the
thunk
carrying in the clear air. ‘I’ll be there in just a second,’ Cass said, and ignored Mr Remick’s look of surprise as she hurried after Lucy. She called out as Lucy was walking round to the driver’s side and she stopped, her expression guarded, as she waited for Cass to speak.

‘I’m sorry if Ben … if he’s done something,’ said Cass. ‘And I hope Jessica is okay. I’m sure it’ll turn out to be nothing.’

‘He cut her cheek.’ Lucy’s voice was cold. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I want to get her home.’

‘Of course you do. I’m so sorry. It’s just … I was hoping to ask for your help.’

Lucy’s eyes widened.

‘I know all this … Well, we need to sort it out. But I really need to send some new files to my client. I don’t know what happened to the old ones; they must have been corrupted somehow.’

‘You want
me
to send them.’

‘If you don’t mind. And if there’s anything I can do, for you or Jessica—’

Lucy held out her hand without speaking and Cass went round the car and put the disk into it. She started to thank the woman she had begun to think of as a friend, but Lucy said nothing as she put the disk into her pocket, climbed into her seat and drove away.

The corridors were silent when Cass entered the school. The lights were dimmed for the evening, only a green haze glowing from the emergency exit signs. As she approached Mr Remick’s office she heard a low buzz of voices. She stopped outside the door and knocked, and as she did so she sensed movement at her side. She turned to see a group of boys standing in the darkened corridor, staring at her. Their eyes were pale in the dim light. She saw the shine of teeth as one of them smirked; it was Damon.

Cass heard Mr Remick call out from inside the office. She pushed the door open and went inside. He smiled at her from behind his desk and Sally nodded from her seat. Cass smiled back, the warmth of their gaze a sudden, grateful release. Only Ben hadn’t looked up. He was sitting on Sally’s knee.

‘We’ve been having a chat with Ben,’ said Mr Remick. ‘It seems Jessica said something to upset him, and it all got a little out of hand. Isn’t that right?’

Ben nodded.

‘What happened?’ asked Cass.

‘Jessica said something about someone that Ben didn’t like, and he asked her to take it back. She wouldn’t, and there was a bit of pushing, and the other kids started egging them on, I believe. She cut her face on the ice when he knocked her down.’

‘Ben, you didn’t
hit
her? How could you do that?’ Cass remembered Jessica’s face; it had been deathly pale, the blood a bright, awful stain. The child was younger than Ben by a year, maybe two.

Her son didn’t meet her eye. That hardness was still in his gaze.

‘What did she say?’ Cass looked around. ‘Does anyone know?’

Sally cleared her throat but didn’t speak, only looked to Mr Remick. Cass was surprised to see him look flustered.

‘Apparently she said something about me,’ he said. ‘Ben didn’t like it.’

Ben did look up now, staring at Mr Remick with a fierce gaze.

‘Ben, you shouldn’t hit girls. You shouldn’t hit anyone,’ said Cass. ‘We’ll talk about this later. But you have to apologise to Jessica and her mum.’

Ben whirled to face her. ‘I’m
not
. And we
won’t
, because I’m not coming home with you, I’m going to Sally’s!’

Sally’s
. Since when did he call his teachers by their first names? Cass took a deep breath. ‘You’re not going, Ben.’ She looked at the others. ‘I’m sorry, but we have to make our apologies. Ben and I need to talk.’

Ben opened his mouth to protest but Mr Remick stilled him with a look. ‘Wait outside a moment, Ben,’ he said, and the boy slipped off Sally’s lap, glared at his mother and left the room.

Mr Remick took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry about this,’ he said, ‘but I don’t think we’ve heard the full story. What I said was true – Jess apparently said something about me. But one of the other boys said that Jess was also talking about Ben’s father.’

‘Why on earth would she do that? She doesn’t know anything about us.’

‘I’m not sure, but children can be cruel, and he was understandably upset. That doesn’t excuse his behaviour, and we’ll speak to him about it, of course. And he will apologise. But may I recommend that you continue as normal for now? It’s your decision, of course, but I’m not sure it would be good for him to have further upset today, when he’s already so emotional.’

‘I’m still happy to take him,’ said Sally. ‘As you say, sometimes it’s best to let everything calm down in its own time. Then we can see everything a bit more clearly.’ She paused. ‘Poor boy. He was very upset.’

Upset?
Is that what it was? The gleam in Ben’s eyes had looked like anger to Cass. Did she no longer know her own son? She looked down, the black and white chequered flooring a blur. She rubbed her face. Then she remembered the way Ben had cried out in the night for his father. He was just a little boy, alone in a new place, and he was hurting. Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised; perhaps this was what was normal.

Slowly she nodded her head.

‘That’s great,’ said Mr Remick. ‘I’m sure it’ll all work out for the best. And I benefit too, of course.’ He gave a warm smile. ‘Really, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Ben that settling in and making some new friends won’t sort out. Tonight should help enormously, I think. And we’ll have a word with Jessica’s mother tomorrow, won’t we, Sally?’

Sally nodded. The bright smile was back. ‘Well, I’d better round up the troops. I’ll walk Ben back later if you like, Cass. You look a bit pale.’

‘No, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll fetch him.’ Cass forced a smile. ‘Thanks, Sally. I appreciate it.’

Sally nodded and opened the door, already calling out names. Cass realised that the sullen children in the corridor were the ones Ben was going to have tea with, and misgivings fluttered in her stomach. No, this was a nice school, a good place. Sally wouldn’t have them round if they weren’t good kids.

Mr Remick was watching her. ‘I’m sorry. I ought to have been there. It’s difficult, with the mixed classes we have now.’

‘No, of course not. It’s not your fault.’

‘Just one of those things.’

‘Yes.’

‘Cass, why don’t you get your bag, and we’ll head straight to my place? You can relax while I cook. It’ll give you a break. There’s no point in going all the way back to the mill and then out again.’

He held out his hand and smiled. After a moment she reached out and took it.

‘Walk with me,’ he said.

When they went outside, the car park was empty and light was draining from the sky. Cass looked up and the moon was already visible, a cool, pale disc.

Mr Remick set the building alarm and locked the doors, tucking the keys into his jacket. ‘I love evenings like this,’ he said. ‘Everything’s so still. What say we forget our troubles for tonight?’ He offered her his arm and they headed up the slope together.

Cass was conscious of her arm in his. She peered down the road, looking for any sign of Sally and the boys, but they had already gone. She found herself missing Ben’s hand in her own.

‘Cass, are you all right?’

His voice was so warm. Cass closed her eyes. It was strange, having someone ask after her, look after her. It hadn’t been that way since—

Tears sprang to her eyes and she found she couldn’t catch her breath.

‘Here, sit down.’ He guided her, pushed snow from a wall and sat her down. When Cass opened her eyes he was rubbing her hands as though she was a child with cold fingers.

‘It’s all right. It’s fine. He’s a good boy, Cass. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Let me do that for tonight, hmm? Just for one night.’ His voice was little more than a whisper. His fingers were warm on hers.

‘Do you feel dizzy? I could take you back inside.’

Those dim halls, that green haze. Cass shook her head. ‘I’m fine. I don’t know what came over me.’

‘I do.’

‘You do?’

‘It’s the lack of a Theo Remick steak. That’s what’s causing the problem.’

‘Oh?’ She laughed.

‘Better?’ He took her hand, held it a moment before pulling her up. There was strength in his arms, despite his slight build. ‘Your carriage awaits, ma’am. Actually, it doesn’t. But you can’t have everything, and I promise the steak will be pretty good.’

Cass smiled, brushed hair from her face. Down the road she thought she heard a distant shout – the boys maybe: Ben enjoying himself already. Mr Remick had been right. The trip to Sally’s would do Ben good, help him settle in. She shouldn’t be worrying about her son.

The rectory was a squat black building with narrow windows and a triangular pediment over the door. It was ugly, but once inside Cass found the kitchen cosy, with copper pans dangling from the ceiling and off-white paint peeling here and there in a homely fashion. She thought of the mill kitchen, spartan in its newness, the space too large to feel quite comfortable. Everything was too clean and neat there. Here, pupils’ work was spread over the table as though he was midway through marking. He gathered it into a pile and shoved it onto a shelf already crammed with books.

He opened a bottle of wine and handed her a glass. ‘A toast,’ he said, ‘to settling in.’ He clinked his glass against hers. Cass smelled the wine before it reached her lips, spicy and sweet. It tasted that way too, and the heat of it slipped into her, radiating comfortingly.

Mr Remick pulled a face.

‘I like it,’ said Cass. ‘It’s different.’

‘Good, well, let’s see what I can mess up next.’

‘You’re not messing it up.’ The words were out before she thought about them. The wine taking effect already? His blue eyes, looking at her. ‘What did Jessica say about you?’ she blurted.

He grimaced and Cass cursed herself. Why had she said
that? She hadn’t even been aware of thinking it. She turned the wineglass in her hand, letting the light glow through the liquid.

‘I didn’t ask for details,’ he said. ‘Sometimes it isn’t pleasant to see yourself through the eyes of your pupils.’

Cass thought of the way Ben’s eyes lit up whenever he was there. ‘Oh, I don’t believe that.’

‘They’re fantastic kids. I’ll be sad to leave them.’

‘Leave?’

‘When Mrs Cambrey comes back.’

‘But won’t you be staying on?’

‘Maybe – they may need a class teacher. I might stay around for a while anyway, of course. This is my home.’

‘But you make such a good head.’

‘That’s nice of you to say. It helps to know the area, of course. Even some of the children.’

‘And the mothers?’ Again Cass hadn’t known she was going to say it.

‘Some of them.’ He met her eyes and she looked away.

‘We should eat,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?’

Cass sat and watched while he tenderised steaks and made pepper sauce. After frying the meat he set it on plates with a green salad. ‘Where on earth did you get all that?’ Her words came out too fast, the wine rushing to her head.

He grinned. ‘I have my secrets. Although I will tell you this: the steak came courtesy of the Broaths. They sent some eggs for you too, by the way.’

‘You’re joking. I thought you had to be a local.’

‘Of course. But you are a local, aren’t you, Cass? They know that now. Don’t bother with the local butchers – the Winthrops are a waste of time. The Broaths will look after you.’

She didn’t know what to say, but he gestured at the plates, and suddenly she was famished.

They ate in the kitchen, Mr Remick pouring more wine. He lit candles, dimmed the overhead lights. Cass felt a stab of anxiety about the candles, but it was all right; the room was so domestic, she still felt comfortable. She couldn’t help but talk and laugh and joke with him, like old friends. Old times. Then he touched her knee, lightly, so that she wasn’t sure he had made contact at all.

‘Let’s go through,’ he said. ‘I’ll clean this up later.’

Cass was surprised to see the plates empty. ‘That was really good – the best meal I’ve had in ages,’ she said. She stopped short of saying,
and the best company
.

Mr Remick held out his hand, mock-genteel; she took it, and he led her into a small lounge – more of a nook, really, with barely room for the green sofa. He turned to a shelf and music started up, low and gentle.

Cass sat, suddenly shy, pressing her hands between her knees. When he turned, though, his expression made her smile. How did he do that, put her at ease with a look?

‘You’re thinking I might try and kiss you,’ he said. There was a slight line of purple at the very edge of his lip.

‘Maybe.’

‘I was thinking I might kiss you too. But I won’t.’

‘You won’t?’

‘Not unless you want me to, of course.’ He bowed. ‘I hate to disappoint a guest.’

She spluttered into laughter. ‘Is that what you say to all your visitors?’

‘Yes. Absolutely. That’s why I don’t invite many people round.’ He smiled. ‘Seriously. I like you, Cass. I enjoy your company.’

BOOK: A Cold Season
13.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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