Harriet gave her a bracing side hug as they watched Molly skipping along the path ahead with Skye, her yellow floral top dazzling and her ponytails swinging.
‘You look bleary-eyed like you’ve not been sleeping properly,’ Harriet observed.
‘That’s not lack of sleep. We had our end-of-inspection celebration night out yesterday. It was fun. Too much fun,evidently. I’ll be paying for it all day, if my head has anything to say about it.’
Harriet laughed. ‘You guys sure know how to party hard. You’re worse than the students.’
‘Probably true.’ Clara squinted at Molly, who had bent over Skye to talk to her; the little toy poodle’s tail wagged happily. ‘It’s nice to get out for some air.’
‘This place is gorgeous.’ Harriet glanced around. ‘I heard they do riding lessons. Maybe when Molly’s a bit bigger, she could have one, though it’s quite a drive from Perth.’
‘You should move out here too. It’s such a gorgeous place to live.’
They carried on along the track, up a hill towards the stables. Clara let out a slow sigh and nudged a pebble down the slope, watching it skitter away. Her mind, unhelpfully, replayed fragments of the previous evening – the warmth of the room, the laughter, and then her own mortifying nonsense.
Sam had been so gentle, so steady, but had she made a fool of herself? Something about him was just so… safe. Solid and soft at the same time. Her tipsy brain hadn’t stood a chance.God, I must’ve looked pathetic.
‘Can we go right up to the stables?’ Harriet’s voice sliced through the internal cringe-fest.
Clara blinked and looked up. ‘Yeah, sure. There’s a nice woman called Dagmar who works there. And I’ve even met Ophelia Chattan-Blythe, the owner of this estate. She’s actually really nice, though she looks quite intimidating.’ Clara pointed ahead. ‘You can walk around here, and we can join the bridle path after that.’
A delighted squeal rang out as Molly darted towards a puddle, following Skye’s bounding paws. The dog splashed through it, sending droplets flying, leaving a trail of muddy prints across the pale track.
‘Molly, make sure you hold on,’ Harriet called, her voice edged with concern.
‘It’s ok,’ Clara said. ‘Skye’s a good girl. She won’t run off. She knows to stick close to safe people.’
The words hung there for a moment, and something fluttered in her chest – a tiny tremor of truth. Safe people. That was what she’d done too: gravitated towards calm, steady ground. Was that why she clung to Sam?
Lissa’s teasing about them pretending to be married had just been her nonsense, but now it echoed differently.He’s like a safety net, she thought, and the realisation both comforted and unnerved her.
She’d needed him this week more than she wanted to admit. Without him, everything felt off balance. Was that stupid? Maybe. She’d been single since football-first Fergie, and she didn’t completely hate it. Loving Kerr from afar had filled her dreams, but now she was glad it had gone nowhere. For his sake. He was a nice guy, but he wasn’t for her.
Was anyone?
The path dipped again, muddy and uneven, twisting down towards the stables. Clara pulled her coat tighter. Ahead, Molly was still laughing, Skye still dancing. But everything looked a little blurred, a little uncertain – like her future, winding ahead in turns she couldn’t quite see.
With the inspectors finally gone, the school seemed to exhale. Laughter drifted more easily down the corridors, the staffroom buzzed with relief, and even Gil's smart shoes clicked with a lighter rhythm. Although there were still three weeks left of theterm until the Easter holidays, it felt more like the countdown to the summer holidays.
Clara wasn’t immune. Every time she caught herself daydreaming about lie-ins and walks with Skye, she had to mentally yank herself back to the stack of work still waiting. Adele, meanwhile, was hanging by a thread – the latest drama with Max Lyndell chewed at her patience.
So when Clara rounded the corner on Monday morning of the last week of term and saw Max and his father waiting outside her office, she winced.Oh no. Not again.
Adele emerged from her own office at that exact moment and stopped dead. Her gaze locked on Mr Lyndell, who turned towards her with a faintly challenging set to his jaw. For a beat, the air between them seemed to hum.
Clara froze mid-step, and Mr Lyndell looked at her with the flicker of a smile.
‘Good morning,’ Adele said. ‘What can I do for you?’
Mr Lyndell raised an eyebrow. ‘Get him into class,’ he muttered.
‘Hey Max,’ Clara said to him. ‘You ok?’
Max shrugged, eyes downcast, while his dad cleared his throat. ‘We need to discuss his English teacher, Mr Emery. He’s not too thrilled about going to his class again.’
‘Why not?’ Adele folded her arms.
Clara peered at Max. ‘How about I walk you there? I’ll speak to Mr Emery if you like, and I’m sure we can sort things out.’ She smiled, fully expecting his usual huffing, so when he nodded without a hint of protest, she was taken aback. ‘Great.’ She risked a quick glance back as they set off and caught Mr Lyndell standing up and muttering something to Adele, who had her arms folded tight across her chest.
