“Oh, thirty men, huh? One for each day of the month!” I fire right back, earning me a broad smile from him.
We start walking again, and the vision of James in a rugby shirt and pair of tight short shorts, those thighs covered in mud, does something to me, and I now have new plans for my Saturday morning.
Yes, Miss
The walk to the pub is short, and Daniel is already there when we arrive, holding court in the corner, his laugh carrying across the pub. He waves enthusiastically when he sees us, beckoning me over.
“Isabelle! Come sit down. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering you a white wine.”
I settle into a chair next to Daniel, feigning delight at my wine even though I’m more of a gin girl myself. It's the thought that counts.
James takes the seat next to me upon his return from the bar, and I can feel his eyes on me as I make small talk with the people around us. I turn to look at him. He is quietly talking to Jennifer, the PE teacher, but his arm is draped over the back of my chair. I like to see him relaxed, his easy smile playing across his lips.
"How's your music programme going?" Daniel asks, turning to James. "I've not heard much about it. Hope it doesn't fall flat on its face."
"It's going well," James replies curtly. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, being in the maths department."
As more teachers arrive, the group grows larger and louder, and it's nice to see everyone outside of work. James is quiet, but watching him with others shows me it's not shyness. He has an ability to really listen to what others are saying. It's evident people open up to him. However,
Alexandra Ravensbrook
every time Daniel tries to engage him in conversation, he shuts him down or gives short answers.
After a couple of hours, most of us have had a few drinks and are starting to wind down. I decide to change gears and steer the conversation away from work-related topics.
"So, what do you guys like to do outside of school?" I ask cheerfully, hoping to get to know them all.
"Well," one of the science teachers pipes up, "I'm into hiking and camping."
"I love trying new recipes," a different Jennifer says— I’m still not sure what she teaches, and she’s rarely in the staffroom.
Daniel chimes in with all his hobbies—gigs, running, gym—whilst James stays quiet.
"What about you, James?" someone asks from across the table. "What do you like to do for fun?"
He shrugs as he answers, "Music—"
"Oh, come on," Daniel interrupts with a teasing grin before James has even finished his sentence. "Surely you must have some hobbies besides music. Or was it Laura who had the extracurricular activities?"
James glares at Daniel. “Maybe I’m just that boring.” His features flatten but with a defiant glare in his eyes.
Yes, Miss
With that, he rises from his chair and stalks over to the bar. I excuse myself and weave through the busy floor to place myself next to James at the bar.
“He really irritates you, doesn’t he?” I ask, nudging him playfully. His arms are like a brick wall against mine. He slowly turns to look me in the eyes, his face softening.
“Sorry, I really can't stand him. He's everything I despise. Cocky, arrogant, talks about his sexual partners like they’re some kind of challenge he won. He’s a disgusting creep.” His voice is deep and angry. He sighs, his shoulders straightening before he smiles and says, “This round is on me, as a welcome to the department.” His face totally changes when he smiles, like a light has been turned on, his eyes sparkling. I thank him, asking for a gin and tonic. I want to ask him what Daniel meant about Laura, but I’m not really in the position to pry.
James reaches for his wallet, but it's knocked from his hand as he lurches forward, a drunk woman stumbling by, her hand held high as she mumbles an apology. His worn leather wallet and its contents lay scattered on the floor. I scoop down to help collect everything from the floor as James’ hand scrabbles to pick up his wallet and rescue it from some unidentifiable liquid on the bar floor. I go to pick up his cards that have slipped free, and my attention is caught by a unique deep red card with a gold swirly letter printed on the front. I reach for it, but James
Alexandra Ravensbrook
snatches it up, cramming it into his wallet, looking flustered.
Surprised at his reaction, I pick up the cards nearest to me and hand them back as I stand and take my drink from the bar. James looks flushed and shoves his belongings into his jacket pocket, grabbing his pint and leading me back to our table. I follow him back to our table, my mind whirring with thoughts of that card. Why was he so secretive about it? What was so special about that red card?
After a little more chatting with the group, I finish my drink and make my excuses to leave.
