Teacher's Pet (15 page)

Monday afternoon was hot and sultry.  Allie woke from the deep sleep she had eventually fallen into after Paul left and instinctively checked the clock: one pm.  She blinked at it for a moment and then double-checked the date function, just in case she had been sleeping for days.  The sun had moved round towards the front of the house now and was beating onto the curtains,
the heat forcing its way into the room like an insistent yet unwanted guest.

She gathered her thoughts – trying not to focus on the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach: the slow realisation that she had sent away the only man who had really succeeded in making her happy. 
He had made her feel desired, loved, and worth all his attention.  And she had told him to leave. 
How stupid could she get?
  Of course, he was feeling peeved that she hadn’t mentioned the stalker.  Especially, she realised now, because James had known, but
he
hadn’t.  She tried to put herself in his shoes.  Yes, she conceded after a moment’s thought, she could understand now.  It was a question of pride, as well as trust.

She sat up slowly and waited for the dizzy feeling to take hold of her again.  It didn’t.  This was looking promising.  Maybe she could get dressed and tidy round a bit?  Perhaps even do some gardening?  She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up gingerly.  Still no dizzine
ss.  Great.  Glancing down, she saw that the tray was still perched next to where she had been lying.  She decided she would take it downstairs, fix herself some lunch, then maybe phone Paul.  She hesitated.  There was some truth in what she had said to him: they did need some time apart, if only to take stock of the situation and decide what trust really meant.  And whether they were ready to trust each other.

Just as she bent over to get
the tray, the phone rang.  She picked it up more quickly than she would have liked.

“Hello?” 
Damn.  She sounded much too eager
.

“Allie?  It’s me, James.  How are you?”

“Fine.”  The eagerness subsided all of a sudden and she stood up straight again.

“You don’t sound it.”

She sighed.

“I am, James.  Just a bit tired.  How are the boys?”

“Great.”

There was a pause.

“Do they want to speak to me?” she asked.

“They’re out playing football.”

“In the street?” 
Surely not
.

“No, er, in the communal gardens.  Mike’s flat has them.  Nice and safe.  Gated, and all that.”  He coughed.  “They’ve made a few friends and formed a team of sorts.”

“You mean, other kids?  Who aren’t at school?”

“Yep.”  James sounded pleased.

“You’re letting them play with truants, then?”

“No.  This lot
go to a private school, and they’re off for a study day or something.  Anyway, that’s not why I phoned.  To talk about the kids, I mean.”

She sat down wearily on the bed again.

“So, why did you phone?”

“To see if you were OK.”

“I’m fine.”

S
he began to wind the flex round her fingers until it started to knot in on itself.  This had been one of her more annoying habits, according to James.  Not a patch on his annoying habit of going off with other women, of course, as she had once pointed out to him.  Strange, that.  She found the only time she twirled wires now was when she spoke to him on the phone.

“Is Paul still there?  Looking after you?”

“Yes,” she lied.  “I’m being well looked after.”

“Good.”  He cleared his throat.  “Do you need anything?”

“No,” she said quickly.  She kept fiddling with the flex, waiting for him to finish the call.

“I’ll drop the boys back to you tomorrow, shall I?  They only have today off school, don’t they?”

“Yes, and yes.  Yes, I should be up to looking after them again by then, and yes, only today.”

“OK.”  She detected a note of relief in his voice.  “I think they’ve got football practice up at t
he Sports Centre after school tomorrow.  Then I promised to take them out for a pizza.  So I’ll get them to you by about eight.  Is that OK?”

“Yes.  That’s f
ine.”  She tried to inject a note of finality into her voice.  “Give them my love.”

“I will.  Take care.  Call me if you need anything.”

“OK.”

“Bye, Allie.  Make sure you rest, won’t you?”

“I will.”  She sat up straight as she suddenly remembered what she had wanted to ask him.  “James?  Did you put that awful nightshirt on me last night?”

He chuckled.

“It was a joint effort.  The doctor advised something loose and comfortable.  It was to hand.  We all worked together.  What can I say?  I know you love it.”

She laughed.

“I might have known.  Bye, James.  See you.”

And she hung up.

She pulled on her dressing gown, picked up the tray decisively and went downstairs.  She was hungry now, and couldn’t remember whether she had anything vaguely nourishing in the fridge or not.

Once in the hall, she stopped for a moment to take in the smooth expanse of white that her formerly grubby walls had become.  James,
Liz and Jeremiah had done a good job in rushed and unexpected circumstances.  She glanced a little nervously at the front room door, almost not daring to go in, in case the red writing had reappeared.  The sound of the phone ringing stopped her from finding out, and she went into the kitchen, where she put down the tray on the cluttered table before picking up the receiver.  Her reactions were a little more leisurely this time.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Allie.  It’s Liz.  How are you?”

“Oh,
Liz.  Hi.” 

Allie sat down at the table and took in her surroundings.  Her usually tidy kitchen still bore the scars of Paul’s food preparation.  Knives, forks,
and even a frying pan were strewn where he had left them.  There was an open packet of butter sitting on the draining board.  Men never quite seemed to grasp the importance of putting perishables away promptly.  However, at least he had made her breakfast before walking out on her.  That was more than a lot of men would have done. 

“Allie?” 
Liz’s voice was insistent.  “Are you still there?  Are you OK?”

“Sorry,
Liz.  I’m fine.  I was just….. sitting down.”

“What?  Y
ou mean you’re out of bed?”

“Yes.  I’m up.
Feeling rather good, actually.”

“Don’t do too much, will you?”

“You know me, Liz.  I’m not really one for doing too much, am I?”

Liz
laughed:

“No, I suppose you’re not, are you?  Is Paul still there?”

Allie wondered whether Liz had seen him storm off earlier.

“Er, yes,” she began, aware of how lame she sounded.  She had never been much good at lying.  “He’s still looking after me.”

“Uh huh.”  There was a pause before Liz spoke again.  “Jeremiah wants to talk to you.”  She sounded upbeat.

“OK.  Put him on.”

There was a slight pause, then Jeremiah’s voice came down the line.  Rich, melodic and warm, it made Allie smile instantly.

“Hey, teach, I never thought I’d get through it, but I did.  I got the results letter today.  Isn’t it great?  I did it!”

“Congratulations, Jeremiah.  Well done.”  Allie was genuinely pleased for him.

“It must be a surprise for you, Allie.” 
Liz’s voice cut into the conversation.  “Is it?”

“Well, no.  I signed the results letter, remember, Jeremiah?” 
She must be on speakerphone.  Allie hoped he could still hear her.  “You deserved to pass.  You worked hard.  Well done.”

“Thanks, Allie.  I couldn’t have done it without you.”  There was r
eal gratitude in his deep voice.

“Nonsense, Jeremiah.  Any tutor would have given you the same guidance.  We have criteria to adhere to, you know.  I can’t just pass you because you’re my neighbour.  We’d lose our accreditation.  It’s not allowed.”

“I told him that, Allie,” continued Liz, somewhere in the background.  “I told him: Allie can’t just pass you just because you’re teacher’s pet…”

“God,
Liz, stop it, will you?”  There was an uncharacteristic edge to Jeremiah’s voice now.  “Sorry, Allie.  I’ve got to go.  I’ll hand you back to Liz.  Thanks again.”

“Congratulations.”  Allie was aware of the phone being handed back to
Liz, then of a door slamming somewhere in the background.

“He’s chuffed to bits,” enthused
Liz.  “He just doesn’t like being teased.  Men, eh?”  Allie wasn’t too sure how to respond to that, but luckily Liz carried on chatting, seemingly oblivious to any offence she may have given.  “We’ll have to have you over to celebrate, won’t we?  When you’re up to it, that is.  Maybe next week?”

“That would be great.”  Allie looked round her kitchen again, aware of the sinking feeling creeping back into her stomach.  She would have liked to celebrate with
Liz, Jeremiah and Paul, but was only too aware that Paul might never want to see her again. 
Shit
.  Tears pricked her eyelids.  She blinked furiously, determined not to let them get the better of her.

“Anyway,” continued
Liz, happily, her voice seeming to speed up the more she talked.  “We’ll sort something out.  I’ll pop over and see you tomorrow.  You’ll need your rest today, won’t you?  Not that you’ll get much with Paul around, will you?  If you get my drift.  Right, I’ve got to go now.  Jeremiah’s banging around upstairs and I’d better go and see what he’s up to.  Take care.  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.  Byeeee!  See you tomorrow. Just ring if you need me.  Bye!”

“Bye.”  Allie felt exhausted just listening to
Liz and was relieved when she finally hung up.  “Thanks for redecorating the walls,” she whispered, as the line went dead.

Good God, that
woman can talk for England
, she thought, as she stood up and headed for the fridge.  On opening it, she was pleasantly surprised to see that it was full.  And not just with any old food, either, but with her favourite treats: sun-dried tomatoes, fresh pasta, strawberries, and vanilla cheesecake.  Her mouth began to water at the sight of it.  As she moved things around and tried to decide what she fancied, she wondered who had been shopping for her and when.  Someone had been thoughtful, anyway.  Someone who knew her taste in food. 

Pasta and pesto, followed by cheesecake and cream.  That would fill her up, she decided.  She filled a saucepan with water and tried to figure out whether the half jar of pesto sauce she had was still in date.  She squinted at the writing on the label.  That would do.

All at once, she felt an aura of calm descend upon her.  She realised three things: she needed to rest, she needed to eat and she needed to speak to Paul.  Resting and eating could be done tonight.  If Paul phoned her, then they would talk.  If not, she would phone him tomorrow.  She had to put things right between them, but she knew he needed time.  She didn’t want to look as though she were chasing him.  If he came back to her, it had to be because he wanted to.

Only one thing disturbed her. 
What would she do if he didn’t want to?

Jeremiah was walking on air.  Well, he had been, until Liz made that stupid comment about him being ‘teacher’s pet’.  Would she never let that one go?

He sat at his desk upstairs in the cramped box room they laughingly called an office and moved papers around half-heartedly. 
Where was it?
  He had bought a ream of premium quality paper only last week.  It had been sitting on the desk ever since, getting in his way.  Yet now, when he needed it for his CV, it had disappeared.  Or more likely, it had been tidied away by his wife.

Just as he was about to give up, there was a rap at the door he had angrily slammed shut only ten minutes ago.

“Jez?  Can I come in?” 

He sighed.

“OK, honey.”  He could never be angry with her for long.  She may have her faults, occasional, irrational jealousy being one of them, but she was still his wife, the mother of his children, and he loved her.  For better or for worse.

She pushed the door open gingerly and peeped round.  The room was so small that one person, especially one of Jeremiah’s powerful build, seated at the custom-fitt
ed desk, completely filled it.

“Cup of tea?”  She was wearing her brightest smile.

“OK.”

“Looking for something?”  Her voice was light and Jeremiah noticed a twinkle in her eye.  Repressed mirth best described it.  At least, that was what he hoped it was.

“The paper I bought last week.”  He leaned back and stretched.  “For my CV.”

She thought for a moment, wrinkling her nose in that way he loved.