‘I promise .?.?. this is not my choice,’ he said.
‘Look, it’s fine, I totally understand,’ she said warmly.
She actually felt relieved. No way could she be in Finn’s company and not tell him about Marisha.
‘We could do Saturday instead?’ she suggested.
‘You’re being really understanding about everything. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’
Poor Finn, no matter how well-meaning he was, he always seemed to find himself wrong-footed when it came to Marisha.
Chapter 24
‘Excuse me, could I speak with you for a moment?’
Cassie had gone out to the gate to pick up the children, when she was approached by a very tall woman around her own age. There was no need to introduce herself – her height and features meant she could only be Martin’s, the giant’s, mother.
‘The thing is, he’s not very good at public speaking. He’s hardly slept at all these past few weeks. I really don’t want him to miss the opportunity to be involved in the show but .?.?.’ Her voice dropped and she took a step closer. ‘He’s not able for it. Please don’t make him do that big part.’
Yet again it seemed that fate was intervening in the best possible way.
Cassie felt a surge of warmth towards this anxious mother. ‘I understand, leave it with me. We don’t want any child doing something that causes them upset.’
Relief flooded the woman’s face. ‘Thank you for understanding. I’m not sure that certain other people – who we won’t mention – would have been so kind.’ She jerked her head in the direction of the school building.
Cassie wondered if perhaps Marisha wasn’t as universally loved as she imagined herself to be.
‘Don’t give it another thought.’
Poor Martin had obviously been going through hell over the past few weeks and finally here she was in a position to help. She’d just arrived at the door with the class when she was met with Roger Newcombe. He looked agitated but was struggling to hide it.
‘Cassie, Miss Upton isn’t that well. She’s phoned to say she’ll be in for eleven.’
She panicked at the thought he might have heard about Marisha’s confession the previous day, but he showed no signs of awkwardness towards her.
She did notice he’d been wearing the same rather-worse-for-wear brown jacket all week rather than rotating them as usual, which was a clue something was going on.
On a positive note, she now had carte blanche to organise the 4B play so that everyone would get a chance to shine, though if there was one valuable lesson Cassie had learned from Marisha, it was organisation. All the inspiration in the world would only end up in frustration without it. She did wonder if that hadn’t been her own problem all along: all impulse and no proper planning. Well, it was high time she became a grown-up. In fact, the success of 4B’s production ofJack and the Beanstalkdepended on it.
‘Now, boys and girls. Miss Upton will be out for the first part of the day and you’ll be having me instead. I know, very exciting,’ she quipped, to a few grins. ‘So, we’re going to make a few changes at this point in the show – tweaks, they’re called, and that just means we’re going to make it even better than it already is. First of all, we’re getting a new character .?.?.’
There was a buzz of interest.
‘And it’s going to be .?.?.the beanstalk! And it’s going to be played by .?.?. Martin. Martin, you’re going to need a new green costume with branches. So that means we’ll need a new giant, who’ll be played by .?.?. Rowley.’
The round freckled face lit up like he’d been plugged into the national grid. His friends all cheered, while the other kids reacted with a mixture of hilarity and outrage.
‘He’s smaller than me, he can’t be a giant,’ piped up a little girl from under a fringe like a Yorkshire terrier.
‘It’s called acting, you don’t have to be the person .?.?. You just have to make your audience think you are. If you believe it, they’ll believe it. You’ll see.’
Rowley barrelled up to the front of the class and launched himself up on a desk, to Cassie’s consternation. Still, this was important, health and safety be damned for the moment.
‘Fee-fi-fo .?.?. bleedin’ fum!’
‘You’re not a giant, you’re only a little scut,’ roared one of the class bullies. Oh no, was this going to backfire horribly? But if there was one place Rowley could handle himself, it was in front of an audience.
‘Whaddy’a talkin’ about? Enough o’ that or I’ll stick yez in a kebab for me supper.’
