‘Looks like quite a nice school,’ Kaleb said, leaning forward from the back seat and peering through his fringe. ‘It’s a lot more modern than mine.’
‘Yeah,’ Sam agreed. It was a good place – a close-knit staff, friendly students, and a peaceful setting surrounded by hills. He’d settled in quickly, maybe too quickly. Because now, he had to prepare himself to leave it again.
Olive’s voice still echoed in his head from when he’d dropped the boys off last weekend. Her contract was ending soon, and she was already looking for work elsewhere.
Sam’s stomach twisted. He knew what would come next. Once Olive found a new post, he’d start job-hunting too – another move, another school, another house that never quite felt like home.
The thought of uprooting again made his chest tighten. The boys needed stability – that much he knew. But for the first time in years, the idea of leaving filled his insides with hot rushes of nausea and a constant dull ache in his chest. Because this time, leaving Glenbriar wouldn’t just mean another move. It would mean leaving Clara.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Clara
May
Clara pressed her palms flat on the desk, taking a deep breath. The glass vase by her window brimmed with tulips so vividly red they glowed against the grey sky. She smiled at them. The first week back was almost done, though not everything was as rosy as the flowers. So far this week, her case loads had risen due to several pupils having meltdowns about the upcoming exams.
Still, it was break time, and that meant coffee. She’d just got to her feet when there was a knock at the door. Pulling it open, she grinned as Sam leaned his hand against the frame.
‘Hey,’ he said.
‘Morning, Mr Addison.’ She gave him a little wink. ‘What can I do for you?’
She’d barely had a chance to speak to him about anything much, though they’d exchanged messages in the evening. Her heart was bereft without him, but at least at school, she knew he was close by – somewhere – and that knowledge helped a lot.
He shut the door behind him.
‘Can we chat for a moment?’ His expression was uncharacteristically serious.
‘Sure, what’s up?’
He had the look of someone waiting to be called into the Head’s office for bad news.
‘So… I haven’t really had the chance to tell you this. It’s taken me a while to process it myself, and even now, I’m trying not to think about it. But I can’t avoid it, and you need to know too. Olive’s contract is almost up.’ He swallowed. ‘It ends on my birthday, would you believe? Anyway, she’s started applying for jobs. And…’ His thumb flicked at a small nick in his knuckle. ‘Well, the next job could be anywhere. And if it’s not somewhere nearby…’ He glanced at her with big sad eyes.
Clara’s chest pressed in from all sides. ‘Aw, Sam.’ For his sake, she must not cry. It was hard enough for him. He didn’t need her getting upset because of her own selfish desires. ‘That’s so unsettling for you.’
He managed a smile, but she knew it was more for her than anything real. ‘Yeah. And I’m sorry.’
‘It’s ok. You told me this would probably happen.’
‘I suppose I just hoped it wouldn’t.’ He pulled a helpless face. ‘Which was stupid really.’
She crossed the small room and wrapped her arms around his neck; his hands settled near her waist. ‘I’ll still always be your friend.’
‘Thank you,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll miss you.’
‘We can always meet up for a fake date now and then,’ she said, voice bright, in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.
He huffed out a laugh. ‘You’ll always be welcome.’
Voices outside the door made Clara pull away.
‘Clara! Are you in there?’ It was Lissa, voice as loud as the neon yellow of her preferred jumpsuit. She grinned, poking her head around the door before Clara could even answer.
‘Yes, I’m here.’
‘And Sam! Oh, love, you look knackered.’ Lissa eyed him over. ‘Is everything ok?’ She breezed in, a vortex of perfume and wild hand gestures.
