“I was looking for a move into senior leadership. That was my plan: to start applying for a September start in a different school where I was assistant head. I was head of my key stage and had a couple of responsibility points.” Her hands traced across my chest then up into my beard. She seemed to like the beard. Especially in certain places.
“You’re not betraying anyone by following that plan.”
“I know.”
I kissed her, softly but deep, making my intentions known.
“You can do whatever the hell you choose to do.”
“I know.” Her hand slid down to my cock. “I just don’t know where that should be.”
“Then wait until you do know. There doesn’t have to be a rush.” I kissed her again, keeping it slow, emphasizing my point and wanting to stretch this out, because it would soon be tomorrow and I knew we both had things to do.
“Sit back and take a longer ride.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We made love slowly, languidly, as if by rushing we were throwing away time. On our sides wasn’t the deepest position but it meant I could hold her, watch her. This time our words weren’t dirty, instead they contained something that I couldn’t explain, seeing us in colour, pinks laced with deep reds, pastels and soft lines.
Afterwards, I stayed awake, listening to her breath ease as she fell asleep on my chest, both of us using less than half the mattress. This was peace. I just wasn’t sure if it was meant to be sustained.
Anya
“It’s all good. We’re doing an end of year graduation ceremony for the year twos. We’ve even ordered cap and gowns. The parents are doing exactly what you’d expect though.”
I laughed at Lorna. She was the other year one teacher, my team member, and she’d taken over the responsibilities I carried. I knew exactly what she meant with the parents, several would go completely over the top with the idea of a graduation.
“Go on, tell me.”
Lorna giggled. “Three have approached the parent-teacher committee about having a graduation party, which is quite sweet.”
“I’d have expected that. And for it to happen at school.”
“But what you, and no sane person would expect, is for them to approach Tots and Tigers – you know that independent kids boutique - and have a policy put on dresses that they can’t sell two of the same to kids going to the graduation ball. The dresses have to be sold exclusively for that event so there are no duplications!” Her tone was highly amused and I imagined her sitting in her little flat in Islington with the Great British Bake Off on in the background. She had a thing for chefs, and another for food, so it was her favourite show.
“That’s just… Jesus, they’re seven years old. Anyway, I’m not surprised.”
There was a pause. I heard a voice in the background.
“Lorna, did you get lucky last night?”
A muffled laugh, then a deep chuckle.
“Lorna, we need to talk about this….”
“One second, I just need to tell him which butter to buy.” There was a conversation I wasn’t privy to, which was fine because I’d heard Lorna’s thoughts on different types of butter already and I didn’t need a refresher.
“Sorry, Anya. He’s a cook and he’s making me breakfast.”
“Where’ve you found him?”
“Jenny’s Jewels. The little bakery that’s opened round the corner from school where they have a café that just does afternoon tea type things. That’s his. One of his.” I could hear the satisfaction in her voice, something to do with more than the cakes he’d probably made for her. Cream of a different kind.
“He sounds like your type. Is he treating you well?”
“He’s lovely. He likes a woman who eats. But we’ve been going for walks every evening to balance out the foodie goodness. I like him a lot but we’ll see how it goes. Now, tell me about you. How’s the island? How are you doing?”
She hadn’t told me that the children missed me. I knew from experience that kids adapted. Teachers and teaching assistants could leave and within a week pupils would fix on someone new. Older kids had more trouble adjusting, but my five and six-year-olds would be coping fine.
