‘Joel’s off to St Mede’s, he said. And Lola is at a friend’s from school.’
Robyn frowned. ‘Didyoudrop him off then? I was going to give him a lift down to school – we’ve a full rehearsal this afternoon.’
‘I’ve let him have Dean’s bike.’
Robyn whistled. ‘Blimey, the all-singing, all-dancing machine that Dean used three times before abandoning it back in the carport along with his rubber wetsuit?’
‘Yep.’
‘And he’s happy with that?’
‘Who? Joel?’ I laughed. ‘Joelis. Dean isn’t. But to be honest I don’t really care what Dean thinks any more.’
‘Come on, take me down to the restaurant for a nosy – I’ve some time before I have to be at the rehearsal, and I’m dying to see where you’re up to with it all.’
‘Doesn’t Fabian keep you up to date?’ I asked as we walked, arm in arm round the steep bend, stopping to admire the fabulous view across the fields to the Pennines beyond, before heading back down once more.
‘He’s always out’ – Robyn tutted – ‘seeing suppliers, meeting up with this person or that as directed by Kamran.’
‘I think Kamran’s doing his fair share.’
‘I know, I know. It’s just I’m now a new-restaurant widow.’
‘Probably not much different than when you were in London. You on stage in the West End until midnight and Fabian always in his chambers until late?’
Robyn nodded. ‘S’pose.’
‘I’ve got a date,’ I said, showing off.
‘A date?’ Robyn stopped walking. ‘It’s not George, is it?’
‘George? George Sattar? Why on earth would you think that?’ I felt myself go slightly pink remembering how much I’d enjoyed being shown round the farmhouse and barn George was contemplating buying. How I’d felt comfortable with him, at ease, how I’d contemplated the man, realising for some strange reason how attractive he was.
‘No, no, of course not.’ Robyn shook her head, obviously thinking. ‘I always forget he’s with Mina. Mind you, I rarely see them together and, when I do, they’re always arguing. It’s just he’s always talking about you.’
‘Mina was at the gym with him the other day.’ I paused and then glanced at Robyn’s face. ‘George is? Always talking about me?’
‘Yes, yes. Constantly going on about what a great hockey player you are.’
‘Really?’
‘Hmm, the team is on the up and up with you on the wing apparently.’
‘While St Mede’s is on the down and down with George Sattar overseeing it all?’
‘Yes, ’fraid so.’ Robyn sighed. ‘I think we’ve got until next Christmas to hang on to the place. The kids are already jumping ship – off to Beddingfield High if they can get a place; or probably heading for the streets and a life of crime if their parents can’t be bothered to sort new schools for them. And it wouldn’t surprise me if Mason’s off somewhere too. He’s been acting particularly shifty lately. But won’t admit to anything.’
‘You can’t blame him, Robyn. No school – no job. He’s a headteacher; headteachers need a school to be head of. And what areyougoing to do?’ We’d arrived at the door of The White House, but I stopped, taking Robyn’s hand. ‘What aboutyourjob?’
‘Oh, gosh, don’t worry about me. You know as well as I do, I was never cut out to be a teacher.’
‘Not according to Joel,’ I said. ‘He says you’re the best dance and drama teacher the school’s ever had…’
Robyn pulled a face at that.
‘…and he says he totally gets Shakespeare now that you insist on them acting it out rather than just reading and analysing random bits of it.’
‘He’s a bright boy.’ Robyn pulled me back as we were about to go through the lovely new wood and glass entrance of the restaurant. ‘Oh my God, look at this door! This entrance.’ Robyn put out a hand, following the smooth lines of beautifully grained expensive blonde oak.
