I freeze.
“Just be glad that he no longer plays any role in your life, Ms.Wiley.” Mr.Ward’s voice is as cold as ice as he turns away. “Was there anything else?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer. My legs only remember how to walk once he’s turned toward the door again. His lanyard clatters as he locks the door behind me.
Just be glad...Does that mean my father once played a role in Mr.Ward’s life? Did he go to school here with him? How disrespectful would it be to ask a teacher his age?
I don’t dare ask anything more. Mr.Ward’s expression is an impenetrable mask.
“I didn’t mean to be rude,” I say instead.
Mr.Ward doesn’t answer right away. Then he says, “Don’t waste your energy on the past. As your teacher, I would suggest that you’re better off investing it in your studies.”
My heart is numb, my mind blank. I nod before he walks away, then set off in the opposite direction. It’s only after I’ve taken a few steps that I remember this isn’t the way to the dining room. I stop and open my hand, with which I’ve been clutching my bag the whole time. I can just about see the black marks on the navy-blue fabric.
“Fuck...” I whisper.
Henry’s number is smeared: My palms are sweaty.
I shut my eyes.
Henry
I can’t remember when it became a tradition that I have lunch with Grace and her family on Wednesdays. It feels like it’s always been that way, yet today I almost forgot. If Grace hadn’t been waiting for me at the foot of the stairs, I’d have turned left and headed for the dining room with the others. Now I can’t stop thinking that Emma might be looking for me. If I had her number, I could just let her know now.
“Are you expecting something?” Grace asks as I glance at my phone to see, yet again, no message from her. Instead, Maeve has sent another of her weird memes to our family WhatsApp group. This one features a frog and, yet again, I don’t get the joke. I’ve long since given up trying to understand them.
“Hm?” I look up. “Oh, right, no. Sorry.” I put my phone away as Grace’s mum sets a huge casserole dish on the table in front of us. Meanwhile, her dad reaches for my glass to fill it with water. The thought of how much I’d rather be somewhere else makes me feel guilty.
Grace’s parents, Diane and Marcus, know mine. They were at Dunbridge too, all at the same time, in the same year. Just like Grace and me. Since I’ve been at the school, I’ve seen Grace’s parents way more often than my own. I used to spend almost every weekend with them. No wonder the Whitmores’ house feels almost like a home from home to me.
I’ve spent less time here as we’ve got older, and this year my days will be so packed with lessons, school council meetings, and prep supervision that it’ll be hard for Grace and me to see muchof each other either. But however full my diary is, Wednesday lunch with her family is a fixture.
“Oh, thanks.” I automatically reach for my plate as Grace’s mum tries to keep piling shepherd’s pie onto it. “That’s plenty.”
“Are you sure, Henry?” She eyes me carefully. “There’s no need to hold back.”
“Stop fattening the boy up, Diane,” says Grace’s dad.
“I’ll give you some to take back with you,” she announces, handing me my plate. “We all know what an appetite boarding school works up.”
“That’s what toast’s for,” remarks Marcus, which earns him a reproachful look from his wife. “Or that’s how it was in our day. Toast between lunch and dinner, toast at half midnight. The toaster in your father’s room was worth its weight in gold. Apart from that time when he accidentally got one of his curtains—”
“We know the story, Dad,” says Grace, and I grin.
“I know, I know. Your old folks will keep telling the same old stories. It was such a long time ago now. I wish I could have my time at Dunbridge over again.”
“That’s what my parents always say too,” I put in.
“There, you see.” Marcus turns his attention to his lunch.
“So how are they doing, Henry?” Diane asks as she loads Grace’s younger brothers’ plates. Gregory and Augustus are day pupils too. Greg’s in the junior school, and Gus is in the third form. I’ve known them since they were little. It’s all kind of weird.
“Yeah, they’re good. It’s a lot of work but they’re happy. They’ll probably come over for a couple of weeks at Christmas.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Diane beams. “Well, in that case, you must all come over for a meal. Maeve and Theo too, of course, if they’re around.”
“I’ll pass that on,” I promise. “I’m calling them later today. I haven’t managed to get through to them yet.”
