Broken English (Broken Lives Book 1) (9 page)

8

CLARA

I laughed again, Beverly the funniest
person I’d ever met. If she was a male, females would be swarming her. I really
didn’t understand why guys weren’t interested in her. Although a bit frumpy,
her great personality sure as hell made up for it, not to mention I loved her
hair.

I smacked her arm as she made another joke.
“Stop making me laugh, I’ll get thrown out with all my snorting.”

Her face lit up. “Hey! Now I have a
nickname for you.
Miss Piggy.
Oink, oink.”

“Don’t you dare call me that! It was my
nickname at high school.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. And if I hear anyone call me it at
school, I know who’ll be to blame, and I
always
get payback.”

She laughed, giving me a shove, almost
causing me to fall off the stool. “Oops, sorry,” she said. “I think I’ve had a
bit too much to drink.”

I looked at all the empty glasses next to
her. “You don’t say.”

She nodded, her chocolate-brown eyes now
glassy. “Looks like I’m the lush tonight, not Paul.” Her gaze moved to him. He
was still watching the cricket match with the other men at his table. “God, I want
a piece of him.” She smiled. “And I’m going to get it.” She pushed away from
her stool, looking like she was going to topple over.

I jumped up and steadied her. “I think
it’s time I took you home.”

“As long as Paul’s coming with me.” She
pulled free from my grip and headed for him, her eyes locked onto the man. I
wondered whether I should stop her, because it looked like she was going to do
something she would regret. But before I could decide, she was planting her
butt on Paul’s lap, giving the man one hell of a surprise.

I headed for them as Beverly put her arms
around his neck. “After I go to the ladies’, I’ll drive her home,” I said to
him. “You coming too?”

Beverly planted her lips against Paul’s
before he could answer. His eyes almost popped out of his head in response. I
winced, knowing she was
definitely
going to regret this the next day. And
not only because of Paul’s reaction, but because a lot of our colleagues were staring
at what she was doing, some of them sniggering and talking between themselves.

“I’ll try to be quick,” I said, rushing for
the restroom.

I entered a stall, closing the door behind
me. As I sat down on the toilet, the restroom door banged open. The sound of
two women talking started up, one of them the blonde maths teacher Paul had
harassed earlier, Helen’s raspy voice unmistakable.

“I can’t believe Beverly did that!” she
laughed. “Paul’s expression was classic!”

Her friend laughed too, the sound like a
tinkling bell to my snorting pig.

“Such sweet karma,” Helen said. “Now he
knows what it’s like to have unwanted attention. I still can’t believe he
actually asked me for a blowjob. He’s just lucky we weren’t at school, because I
would’ve reported him.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” the other maths
teacher said.

“I would too, but he doesn’t do anything
wrong at school.” Helen exhaled loudly. “Anyway, let’s not talk about that
prick. That frump is dishing out sweet justice.”

I grimaced, not liking her calling Beverly
a frump or insinuating her kiss was a punishment. Paul would be lucky to get a
wonderful woman like Beverly. I went to tell Helen exactly that, but stopped as
her friend beat me to it.

“Don’t be so mean, Helen,” she said. I
couldn’t remember her name, other than it rhymed with vagina. “Beverly’s a
lovely woman.”

“Only in personality, because she
definitely
woke up late when they were handing out looks.”

“Helen! Beverly’s not ugly.”

“I didn’t say she was; I just think she’s
really unattractive. Anyway, I didn’t bring you in here to talk about her. When
I went out for a ciggie, I saw Dante Rata getting into a car with those two
rich blondes.”

I stopped from flushing the toilet, Dante’s
name capturing my full attention.

Helen continued, “The one with the white
hair called him a cutie pie and practically launched herself at him.”

“But they looked in their thirties, while
he’s only fifteen. You sure it wasn’t his older brother you saw? Those two boys
look a lot alike.”

“No, it was definitely Dante. Ash has a
neck tattoo.”

“The women could’ve been relatives.”

“He put his hands on her arse. And you do
know what they say about Dante.”

“Oh,
come on
,” her friend replied, “you
don’t seriously believe that rubbish, do you?”

“After seeing him get into that car, most
definitely. Not to mention, the kids call him a whore behind his back. Happy
Meal even says it to his face, and do you want to know why?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“Because Happy Meal’s girlfriend paid
Dante to have sex with her. The kids in my Year Thirteen class were all talking
about it.”

My eyebrows shot up, what she was saying
shocking me.

The other woman made a derisive sound. “Kids
talk rubbish all the time.”

“No, it makes sense. Dante’s far too
good-looking to even consider going with a girl like Phelia Lamar.”

Her friend made another derisive sound.
“Phelia is gorgeous.”

“Maybe, but she’s still not in his league.
He’s like supermodel hot, the type that women trip over themselves for.”

“Christ, Helen, he’s only fifteen.”

“How many times do you have to say that? I
know he’s fifteen, so stop acting like I want sex with him. He’s underage, for
Christ’s sake.”

“You still ogle him.”

“I do not! He just looks like his brother
and you know I have a thing for Ash. Mmmh, what I wouldn’t do for a piece of
that hunk. If
he
was a whore, I’d
definitely
pay for him.”

Her friend said something I couldn’t discern.
I leaned my ear against the door, trying to hear it, but pushed too hard. The
door flung open, sending me stumbling out. Both women spun around as I righted
my footing.

“The door’s faulty,” I mumbled, embarrassed
I’d been caught eavesdropping.

Wishing I could disappear, I quickly headed
for the washbasin. Helen watched me as I turned on the tap. Despite having a
large nose, she was very attractive, with stunning emerald eyes and a figure to
die for, her red dress practically painted on. Her friend in comparison was
ordinary looking, her face completely forgettable, like her name, which I still
couldn’t remember.

“Hi, Clara,” Helen said, not appearing
ashamed over what she’d said about Dante’s brother. “How are things going?”

“Good, thanks,” I replied, noticing she didn’t
have her glasses on. I wondered whether she was wearing contacts, because her
eyes looked considerably brighter tonight. Or maybe the restroom’s fluorescent
lights were bringing out the colour.

“You teach the juvie class, don’t you?”
she asked.

I nodded.

“Which means you teach Dante Rata. What do
you think about him?”

I shrugged, shaking the water off my
hands. “He’s just a kid.”

“That boy is
not
just a kid. He’s a
total hornbag.”

Helen’s friend smacked her arm. “You can’t
say that about a student!”

“Well, it’s true, he even hit on me.”

The other woman snorted. “I wouldn’t
equate him blowing you a kiss as hitting on you. I’ve even seen him blow one to
Paul to annoy the prick.”

“No, he was definitely hitting on me.”
Helen’s attention returned to me. “I bet he hits on you too. Has he given you much
trouble? He’s the reason the last English teacher quit.”

“He was a nuisance the first day, but he’s
been off sick since then.”

“With what?”

“Apparently, food poisoning,” I said, now wondering
whether it was true.

“I told you it wasn’t him!” the other
woman said, sounding triumphant.

Helen grunted. “Well, I still reckon he’s a
prostitute.”

Her friend scowled at her. “While I think
you need to stop listening to gossip
and
stop spreading it.”

They continued arguing, forgetting about
me in an instant. I slipped out of the restroom, finding Beverly still sitting
on Paul’s lap, just with her head snuggled against his chest, fast asleep.

He looked up at me as I neared them. “Ye
took yer bloody time.”

I shrugged. “Do you need help getting her to
the car?”

“No, I’ll carry her, but ye’ll have to
drive since I’ve been drinking,” he said, handing over Beverly’s keys.

He slipped his arms under Beverly and rose
to his feet with her, not looking at all bothered by her weight. We headed out into
the night, Paul gently laying Beverly down on the back seat of her Mini, which
I thought was sweet, a complete one-eighty to how he’d acted earlier. I jumped behind
the wheel and started the engine, while he climbed into the back with Beverly,
laying her head on his lap. He looked incredibly cramped, but remained acting
as Beverly’s cushion.

He peered through the seats at me. “Bev
keeps plastic bags in the glove compartment. I need one just in case she wakes up
and pukes.”

I opened the glove compartment and grabbed
one, passing it back to him.

He took it and looked down at Beverly.
“And she
calls
me
a lush.”

“She started drinking heavily after that
horrible woman insulted her.”

“Aye, I saw that,” he said, sounding mad.
“I should’ve given that bitch a piece of ma mind, but thought Bev was handling
her well.”

“It still hurt her.”

“It shouldn’t, because I’d take Bev over
that snobby bitch any day,” he said, brushing Beverly’s hair back. “She’s one
of the sweetest people I know.”

I nodded, agreeing with him. “Where do I
drive to?” I asked, backing out of the car space.

“Claydon Beach. It’s where she lives. Ye can
drop the both of us off there. I live one road away from her.” He gave me the directions.

I headed past Rainbow’s End’s theme park,
continuing down Great South Road. On my left, the Southern Motorway looked busy,
the car lights resembling hundreds of dancing fireflies. I wondered whether
Dante was in one of the cars, stuck in traffic. My mind went to what Helen had
said about the boy, deliberating whether it was really him she’d seen.

I glanced in the rearview mirror at Paul,
who was staring out the window at the night-filled landscape. “Was it you who
gave Dante Rata a week’s worth of detention?” I asked, wanting to strike up a
conversation about Dante.

He turned his head to look at me. “Aye, he
was being a complete shite in class.”

“What’d he do?”

“I was doing an improv exercise, where the
kids were supposed to be acting oot what they did during the holidays, and he
acted oot a blowjob.”

“What?” I gasped.

“And with all the sounds thrown in.” He
shook his head. “I really wish I didn’t have him in my class, but I don’t like
the idea of him being in Beverly’s. He’s a savage. He’d torment her worse than
what that blonde bitch did.”

A small smile pulled at my lips, thinking
it was sweet of him to protect Beverly. “I heard he drove the last English
teacher away.”

“He certainly did. He reduced the poor
woman to tears. He’s an evil sonofabitch. My guess is, he’ll either end up in
jail or die before he reaches twenty.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, finding his
words upsetting.

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“I just think it’s wrong to talk about a
kid like that.”

He sneered. “Ye’re not one of those
liberals, are ye?”

“No.”

“I hope not, because the kids at Wera will
eat ye up and spit ye oot if ye are. See them for what they are, and maybe ye’ll
still be working there next year.”

I didn’t reply, not liking his harsh
attitude. Regardless of what he said, they were still kids, not little
criminals biding their time until they got locked away.

We continued in silence, Paul only
breaking it every so often to tell me directions to Beverly’s house, which was
a small cottage across the road from Claydon Beach, the place just as quirky as
its owner. Paul carried her to the door, unlocking it, the I LOVE SCOTLAND tag
on the keyring obviously belonging to him.

“You have keys to her house?” I asked.

“Aye, we’re close friends.” He nudged the
door open and carried her inside, disappearing into a room. He returned a
moment later. “I’ll see ye on Monday,” he said, ushering me to the door, not
staring at me like he usually did, his expression totally uninterested.

“What about Beverly’s car and mine?” I
asked, wishing I hadn’t left it at the school.