Met Office weather forecast:
A Met Office Amber weather warning has been declared for the Yorkshire and Humber region. The current high temperatures are set to continue over England and Wales extending across the weekend and into next week with highs of 43 degrees possible in the Vale of York.
The curtains of Teddy’s study were drawn tight, admitting only the faintest chinks of sun. Pat and Liz were sitting side by side in front of Teddy’s laptop. From high on the back of Teddy’s armchair Snaffles regarded the screen with steely intent.
‘Have you spoken to her?’ Liz’s voice was low. ‘Tiffany?’
‘No.’ Pat also spoke quietly. ‘I mean, I’ve not really had the chance.’Not really had the chance because I’ve been avoiding her, she thought.
‘Remember, I’m no expert,’ said Liz. ‘I could be wrong.’
Pat shook her head. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘It all makes sense – her avoiding alcohol and looking so wan.’
Plus, she thought,seeing her on Scott Hall Road …Three minutes on the internet had revealed to her it was close to the locationof a termination clinic. Had Tiffany arranged a termination? She was obviously pregnant now – thathadto be what all the rows were about surely? What did she want? What did Justin want? It all seemed so huge, it felt safer – and certainly easier – to stay all the way away from it.
‘Have you mentioned anything to Rod?’ asked Liz.
Pat shook her head. ‘God no,’ she said. ‘There’s no point saying anything to him till we know something. I didn’t even tell himIwas pregnant until I was cast-iron sure.’
As Thelma came in, Pat and Liz instinctively fell quiet. Discussion of all things childbirth-related was something they steered well clear of when around their friend, remembering Thelma’s own heartbreaking history of failed pregnancies.
‘Here we are,’ said Thelma, putting down a tray of glasses. She nodded at Liz. ‘Apple and mango, only three per cent sugar, which makes it a green traffic light. And I do hope it’s not too unbearable in here. I’ve had the curtains shut and the fan on all afternoon but even so …’
She jiggled the mouse and the laptop flared into life, revealing a tranquil vista of the Lake District. At the sight Snaffles tensed and took a flying leap at the laptop only to be neatly intercepted by Thelma mid-air. ‘Goodnight, sweet prince,’ she said, depositing the cat firmly outside and shutting the door on his disgusted yowl. ‘And thanks to you both for coming here.’
‘That’s no problem,’ said Liz, sipping her drink, trying to ignore her craving for full-fat lemonade.
‘But don’t think you’re off the hook, lady,’ said Pat. ‘The minute that speed awareness course is done and dusted you’re driving us out to Masham for a cream tea.’
A faint alarm from the laptop made them look at the screen. ‘Four fifty-seven,’ said Thelma. ‘That’s our three-minute warning.’
‘Tell me again, who exactly is this Bun Widdup?’ asked Liz. ‘I mean I know she’s something to do with Lodestone Academy Trust.’
‘She’s an education consultant,’ said Thelma.
‘A passionate, committed education consultant, according to Victoria,’ said Pat. ‘With a pretty fancy website. Here.’
She brought up an image on her phone and held it out for the others to see, squinting in the dim room. It showed a series of images of the striking woman both Pat and Thelma had seen before, smiling happily out at the world from atop a windy-looking clifftop, a restless blue sea behind her. Cerise words arched over her head: ‘Bun Widdup Educational Vistas’.
‘I see.’ Liz sounded and looked both suspicious and wary – as she always had when any sort of consultant or inspector or adviser crossed her path.
‘She runs online courses and staff training,’ said Thelma.
‘According to Victoria,’ said Pat, ‘people tune in from all over the world. She has this studio at her home in Robin Hood’s Bay. Hang on.’ She adjusted her phone to show the same woman in front of the background of vivid red and orange drapes against a buttermilk wall. ‘She does this podcast,’ she continued. ‘Simply Ed. I did think: here’s someone else making money out of education.’ She adjusted the phone again and handed it to Liz. ‘Here—’
‘Children first and last,’ Liz read aloud. ‘Ditch those tick sheets.’
‘I heard her really giving Chris Canne a hard time,’ said Pat. ‘Telling him education was about more than getting schools through Ofsted inspections.’
‘She spoke very movingly at Davey Fletcher’s memorial service,’ said Thelma. ‘Chloe showed me a video of her reading out a sonnet.’ In her mind’s eye was a sudden image of that striking figure in the halo of sunlight.Fear no more the heat o’ the sun …
‘But why does she want to speak to us?’ asked Liz, breaking into the memory.
‘We’re about to find out,’ said Thelma indicating the screen, which was suddenly filled with a window declaring the meeting was about to start.
* * *
‘Pat, Thelma, Liz,’ the warm deep voice said each of the three names with a pleasant but authoritative tone. Today Pat noted that Mrs Kohl Panda was wearing vivid shades of cyclamen – a sundress, a scarf twined round her head. Round her neck amber beads winked in the afternoon sunlight streaming in from the right of the screen.
