Why? Why did I think I could get away with this?
All I planned to do was visit for Christmas break. Slip into Valentine Nook, spend time at my parents’ place, then leave without being spotted. I’ve done it before. I could do it again.
But luck was not on my side this time. Dumb or otherwise.
In fact, ever since I stepped foot in the village this year, things have gone from bad to worse. First, my dad broke his leg, then my mum got the flu, and because my stupid brother spent stupid Christmas with his stupid girlfriend, I was left to hold everything together. I had to run the farm and man the Christmas tree stand.
Which is when the shit really hit the fan.
I can still feel Hendricks’s anger from the afternoon he turned up. And I deserved it. I deserved every bit of his wrath. I’m nothing but a coward who runs from her problems instead of dealing with them head-on.
I could barely make out the usual piercing blue of his eyes, narrowed at me from underneath a baseball cap. He was so angry that for a split second, I thought it was Miles glaring at me.
“But he doesn’t always do drop-off, so a lot of mums leave disappointed.”
Oh God, she’s still talking.
“Sorry, who are you talking about?” I ask, though I don’t know why. Iknow.
“Hendricks Burlington. The Burlingtons are an extremely important family around here. Max is in your class. Sweet boy.” She picks up her coffee and sips while perched on the edge of a desk in the front row. I guess we’re going to be talking, then. I suppose that’s better than stewing in my own vortex of bad decisions that led me up to this point. “So where did you teach before you arrived at Valentine Prep?”
“Australia. A private school in Sydney.” I smile, thankful for the change of subject. I take a sip of my own coffee and almost gag. My usual coffee comes with a side of six spoons of sugar, something I rarely tell people because I’m never in the mood to hear thejudgmental gasps ofsix. “Mmm.”
“The coffee machine in the staff room is top-notch. It’s a fight to get to it in the morning.”
I lift my mug to her and pretend to take another sip. “Then thank you for risking your life for me.”
She knocks her mug against mine and laughs. “You’re welcome. We have to look out for each other. I’ll take you around the village when you’re settled in. Why did you leave Australia?”
She slips it in so casually at the end that I barely notice.
Only when my brain catches up do I realize I need to come up with a decent answer that doesn’t raise further questions. Because telling her the full truth is going to lead me down a path I don’t want to venture down. She’s only just veered off the topic of Hendricks and the Burlingtons. If I tell her I grew up in Valentine Nook, we’ll go straight back. I definitely don’t want to undo all the work I’ve done to block him from my mind.
It’s already unraveling far too quickly.
In the end, I go with half the truth. “My boyfriend and I broke up earlier last year, and it coincided with my teaching contract ending. So I came to England to spend time with my family and had to stay longer than I planned. This job came up unexpectedly.”
“Dave.” Celeste tuts, and her brows drop before she smiles broadly. “I’m sorry to hear that. His loss is our gain, though.”
I nod, and my mouth rolls in. “Just one of those things.”
“Well . . .” Her eyes flick up to the clock on the wall. It’s followed by her wriggling off the desk to land on the floor with a little jump. “I’m single too, so we canhave some girl fun. But I must finish getting prepped before the bell rings and the doors open. Holler if you need anything, and I’ll meet you at breaktime for a full debrief.”
I flash her a genuine smile. Celeste is as vibrant and raring to go for the school term as I always used to be. I love teaching. It’s been my dream as long as I can remember, but being back in Valentine Nook is messing with my head.
The truth is I just need to stay here until my dad is back on his feet, then I’ll be goneagain.
I can leave this place and all the memories behind. Celeste can add me to her shit list next to Dave.
“Thanks. I’ll come and find you.”
“Good luck.” She waves and leaves with a parting comment. “I love your skirt, by the way. Very pretty. Gorgeous color.”
My eyes drop to the ankle-length lilac satin I’d spotted in the dress shop the other day and bought on a whim. I haven’t worn this color in years. It was one I used to wear to some degree most days, usually on my nails or with a hair tie. A pair of knickers that no one ever saw except me.
It’s been hanging on the front of my wardrobe ever since, while I stared at it, trying to summon the happiness this particular color used to make me feel. I only decided to wear it five minutes before I left the house this morning, only to pull it on over a navy cable-knit jumper and boots.
Stupid. I’m being stupid.
