“I heard it all. Jen sounded very happy.” He laughs. “You should both be very proud of yourselves, but Iz, why didn't you tell me what you were doing?”
Alexandra Ravensbrook
I lie back and curl up into his chest, his soft skin warming my cheek. “I didn't want to get your hopes up if it came to nothing. You already had a lot to deal with; I didn't want to add to it.” I shrug against him, and his arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer into him as he places a soft kiss on my head. Being here like this is like heaven on earth. I want to stay wrapped in his arms forever.
“You’re perfect, Isabelle. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll do everything in my power to keep making you happy and proud. I love you, baby.”
My heart skips hearing his declaration; it's not the first time he’s told me he loves me, but each time feels like the first because he is so sincere with it.
We lie cuddled for a few more minutes, but my brain is already whirring away.
Where does Daniel fit in with James’ complaint? Was he even involved, or had it been a clash of tumultuous circumstances? Deep down in my gut, I know he’s involved somehow, and I’m determined to find out how.
Yes, Miss
Chapter 48
James
Isabelle leaves for school this morning on a high. Jen’s voice was so loud over the phone; I could hear every word that was said. I don’t understand why they’ve gone to so much trouble for me to begin with. The investigation would have run its course and blown over, but this has thankfully developed into an amazing drive for justice for so many women.
Not that I’m complaining. I’m just… perplexed, but grateful. The pride I feel for Isabelle and Jen, and the unwavering support from them, evokes feelings in me that are something so new and beautiful. Their compassion and love shroud me like a soft velvet cloak, wrapped around me, keeping me warm and safe on a harsh winter’s day.
The image of Isabelle with a happy bounce in her step, a broad, bright grin, talking animatedly as she fills me in on everything, is something I will forever hold in my very soul. I never want her to feel anything but that pure joy.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
To be someone who can help do that for her is an honour and a beloved duty I’ll uphold for as long as I live. And I adore every second of it.
After showering, I change into a comfortable but still smart Henley shirt and trousers. Rebecca sends me a message saying she’s calling around shortly. Nerves start to build at the thought of my career disappearing, ripped away on a false allegation. It would have been so much easier if I had voluntarily left and given it up.
Pacing around the house, I straighten the odd cushion or chair, but the place is sparse. No photo frames, no ornaments, no memories from holidays spent with the woman I love. But that’s going to change. The house feels more like a home with Isabelle here. After this, though, will she go back to spending more time at her own place? I don’t want her to. I love falling asleep in her arms, even just sitting together and watching TV while she marks her class’s work or vice versa. Both of us are quiet and concentrating, but at least we’re together.
Thinking back to our piano lessons, I smile. I could never have imagined where we’d be now. Then, an idea strikes. I know what I need to do, and right after Rebecca leaves, no matter what she ends up saying, I have calls to make.
The doorbell rings, and I get up from the dining table, where I’ve already been making calls, too impatient to
Yes, Miss
wait. Rebecca stands at the door, looking every inch the professional, but with a smile so cheeky I can’t help but grin back.
We stand there for a moment before she simply says, “James, I’m not selling double glazing. Are you going to let me in or not?”
Laughing loudly, I have to say I love her bluntness. “Shit, sorry, Rebecca. Come on in. I’ve got the kettle on.” Wrapping my arms around her, I need some way to show my appreciation for the support she gave Isabelle in her Machiavellian scheme to rid the school of Daniel and for always standing by me. I owe this woman so much.
We sit at the dining table, the pot of tea steaming as it brews. Clearing my notes aside, I notice Rebecca reaching into her bag and pulling out a thick envelope. My heart sinks. This must be my severance paperwork.
My heart races in fear, and I drop into my seat. Looking up, Rebecca takes me in and rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a drama king, James. You and I both know you didn’t do anything wrong, and so does the council now. You’re all clear and can come back in tomorrow.” The way she says this so matter-of-factly makes me question what the papers are.
A moment of indignation suddenly washes over me as I realise what she just said. “I am not a drama king!”I
Alexandra Ravensbrook
scoff, even though she has a point. I did love being in plays and musicals.
“Then why look like the apocalypse is about to start? Anyway, neither here nor there. You’re Head of Performing Arts for a reason.” She picks up the pot as I sit there speechless, not knowing where to go with this now.
“So, it’s all done then? Finished?” Relief washes over me, along with the realisation of how much I really do love my job. Leaving would have been a huge mistake I’d regret for the rest of my life, but it felt so right at the time; it really did.
