‘Oh, do you, Trudie? You don’t feel well?’ Gemma tilted her head and looked at her. The young girl did look pale. She’d been quite happy jumping around to the nursery rhymes they had been singing along to whilst waiting for the rest of the class to arrive this morning, but now she looked poorly.
‘I think I’m going to be sick.’ Trudie whispered.
Standing up, Gemma walked across to where the young girl was sitting and held her hand out towards her. ‘Oh, sweetheart, come on then, let’s go and get some water.’
Nodding, Trudie stood up and slipped her hand into Gemma’s as they walked through the hall towards the door, being careful to skirt around the bucket and theWet Floor - Cleaning in Progresssign. Huh, that was one thing they’d have to get used to now that she knew the truth about the financial state of the school, putting up with the leaky roof. Heck, they’d lived with it for long enough already. Perhaps she should suggest they turn it into a water feature. ‘Let’s get you to the First Aid room and hope a nice drink makes you feel better. Have you only just started to feel poorly?’
Trudie shook her head. ‘No, I felt poorly before breakfast.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Maybe she’d not been feeling right all along and had been putting on a brave face until now. Gemma glanced towards the headteacher’s office. The school secretary’s office was in front of it, so you had to go through Joanne’s office to get to the headteacher’s office, a layout Gemma had always assumed had been designed to ward off unwanted visits from parents, but now acted as a barrier for her just popping in to see Jonathan and clear the air. Or more honestly, to see how he would react to her, to try to suss out whether that almost kiss on Saturday night had been what he’d wanted or simply a mistake by two exhausted people on the verge of sleep.
‘Is that where Mr Higgs lives?’ Trudie tugged on Gemma’s arm and pointed to the office.
Gemma smiled. It still surprised her that young children seemingly assumed their teachers lived at school and didn’t, in fact, have their own lives and homes. ‘That’s where he works, yes.’
Trudie stopped short, her lower lip wobbling.
‘Are you okay? Still feeling poorly?’ Kneeling in front of her, Gemma touched the back of her hand to Trudie’s forehead. She was burning up. ‘Do you know what? I think we’ll head into the office and ask Mrs Pierce to ring Mummy or Daddy. What do you think? Do you want to go home and rest up?’
Trudie gave a little nod as tears began to roll down her flushed cheeks.
Standing up again, Gemma led her into the office and settled her on the cushioned bench positioned against the wall before she walked across to Joanne’s desk. ‘Can you ring Trudie’s parents, please? She’s not feeling well and has a temperature.’
Joanne gave Trudie a sympathetic smile before nodding and turning to her computer as Gemma walked back towards Trudie. ‘They won’t be long. Someone will come and pick you up soon.’
Leaning her head against the wall, Trudie closed her eyes.
‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Turning back to Joanne, Gemma lowered her voice. ‘I’m just going to grab a sick bowl and a glass of water for her.’
Nodding, Joanne covered the mouthpiece of the phone with her hand. ‘Good idea. I’ll keep an eye on her.’
‘Thanks.’ Hurrying towards the First Aid room, which was across the corridor, Gemma filled up a plastic cup with water from the cooler and picked up a cardboard sick bowl. She hoped this wouldn’t be the start of a bug going around the class. During the worst day of the last one, they’d only had half the class in school. That was one thing she was noticing about working with the younger children, they caught everything going around. It made sense, they were new to the school environment, and their immune systems were still developing, but she hated seeing them poorly.
With the cup of water and the sick bowl in hand, Gemma walked back towards the office, picking up her pace as she thought about how pale poor Trudie had looked. Just as shewent to turn into the office, she felt herself knock into someone, the cup of water being knocked from her hand as she collided. Gasping, she looked up and came face-to-face with Jonathan, who now sported a wet patch across his pale blue shirt showing beneath his navy suit jacket.
‘Gemma.’ His voice was soft, his steely blue eyes kind as he stood frozen to the spot.
Finding her voice, Gemma waved her hand towards the wet patch on his shirt. ‘I’m so sorry, I...’
‘My fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going. My apologies.’ Ducking to the floor, he retrieved the now-empty cup and held it out towards her.
‘Thanks.’ Taking it, she looked down at the bright orange plastic beaker before holding it and the sick bowl up. ‘Sick child. I’d assumed you’d be in assembly by now.’
‘On my way now.’ He glanced towards the hall door at the end of the corridor. ‘I had an important phone call to take.’
‘From the academy?’ Placing the orange cup in the sick bowl, she pulled a tissue from her pocket and patted his wet shirt.
‘That’s right.’ Looking down at her hand, he took the tissue, his hand grazing hers.
Swallowing, she felt her cheeks pink with warmth. It may have been the lightest of touches, but surely he must have felt it too? The electricity between them, the...
‘Miss Murray?’ Joanne’s voice filtered through the open doorway.
‘Yes, sorry. Coming.’ Lowering her voice, Gemma looked up, her eyes locking with Jonathan’s, as a million butterflies unleashed in her stomach. She wanted to talk to him, needed to talk to him, and his eyes fixed on hers suggested he was thinking the same. Blinking, she forced herself to step around him into the office. Reaching Trudie, she knelt down in front of the bench again and took the empty cup from the sick bowl before passingthe bowl to her. ‘Here, take this, Trudie, and I’ll get you some more water.’
‘Miss Murray, Trudie’s mum, is on her way. She’ll be about five minutes.’ Joanne turned back to her computer.
‘Thank you.’ Shifting her focus back to Trudie, Gemma smiled. ‘That’s not long, is it? Mummy will be here in five minutes.’
