‘Remy, it’s fine. Just take your time and tell me what the problem is. And when I say take your time, you have precisely six minutes before I have to go and help the nursery with forest school.’
‘Right, sorry, yes.’ She took a beat. ‘Harper doesn’t make friends easily, as I’m sure you know, and she tends to cling to the ones she’s got, desperate to be liked, worried they might drop her.She frets over it. Which meansIfret over it, fearful of what would happen if they did all fall out.’
‘Poor little lamb.’
‘Oh, it’s not like I obsess over it, more that—’
‘I meant Harper.’
‘Course you did!’ She blushed. Remy liked the woman enormously. ‘Yes, anyway, yesterday there was a bit of a, don’t even know what to call it, but a couple of her friends were mean to her, and I just wondered if you could keep an eye. I’d have spoken to Miss Hutchinson directly. She’s great’ – Remy didn’t want Jane to think she found the teacher unapproachable – ‘but I didn’t want Harper to see me coming in and out of the class or get wind of it, don’t want her to know that I’ve interfered. She made me promise not to.’ This didn’t exactly sit well with her.
‘It’s not interfering, it’s raising a concern, and that’s your job.’
‘That’s kind of what I said to her.’ She breathed out, happy to hear confirmation she was doing the right thing.
‘Right. Who was mean to her and what did it entail?’ Jane leaned back in her chair, her expression serious, her stance legitimising Remy’s concerns, which in turn helped the words flow.
‘It was Casey and Ella, who I know are sweet girls, but they called her names and wouldn’t let her sit with them, stuff like that. She was upset.’
‘Of course she was. I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘I’d rather anything wasn’t said directly. You know how these things can blow over, enemies to besties in no more than a heartbeat, but ...’
‘But what?’
‘Harper didn’t tell me about the name calling, she told Bertie, and I got the feeling it wasn’t the first time.’
‘I’ll do a general mention in assembly about kindness and looking after each other, all the usual reminders, and let’s see how it goes. Butcome in any time, email, call with any concerns. Try not to worry. You’re right, these things tend to blow over, but it’s my absolute mission to ensure every child here feels safe and protected while they’re in my care. And if Harper is distressed then something’s not working.’
‘Thanks, Jane.’
‘Right, that’s it! Your time’s up. I’m off to forest school!’
‘And I’m off to work. And then off to Sophie’s end-of-year fashion show!’
‘Stop it! It feels like five minutes ago she was running around here in her tutu.’
‘I’d forgotten the tutu stage!’ Picturing her chubby-faced darling in her pink net skirt was enough for Remy to feel a surge of emotion. It happened this way sometimes.
‘She wouldn’t take it off!’ Jane laughed. ‘Oh! Oh, look, you’re crying!’
Remy couldn’t help it. Just the thought of how quickly the time had flown and tears misted her eyes. Sophie had had a similar attachment to her bridesmaid’s dress and would wear it to the supermarket, school disco, wherever and whenever she felt like it, paired with chunky boots; she had always run her own race when it came to fashion.
‘It goes so quickly,’ she sniffed.
Her mother’s words still stuck in her thoughts, how she had blinked and decades had been erased. Sophie was twenty; a blink, and her daughter would be forty! The forties, according to Ruthie, seemed to have lasted the longest, a fact Remy was thankful for now, as she had the whole wide world and, apart from restoring the closeness she had once shared with Ashleigh, didn’t want a thing to change.
‘That’s why I love my job. I get to live in this wondrous stage, year in, year out.’ The woman put her hand on Remy’s arm. ‘Give Sophie my love and don’t worry about Harper. We’re on it.’
The car park was full as she pulled into the business park.
As if on cue, her mum called. Remy felt the familiar flare of irritation. It was of course always nice to hear from her mother, but ye gods, her timing!
‘Mum, listen, you’ll have to be quick, just pulled up at work.’
Jumping out of the car, she shoved her bag on her shoulder, wincing as the electric current ran over the top of her arm and along between her shoulder blades. It happened this way sometimes, one awkward move, an unfamiliar twist, and a pain that felt like a wire inside her arm and shoulder, a twinge, a shock that took her breath away. A reminder of that night when her body had become damaged, and her heart and spirit were so badly bruised. It was no longer a surprise that two decades after the attack, she still felt the physical after-effects. How she hated that those men, boys really, still had the power to cause her discomfort.
‘Oh, don’t let me keep you, love. Just wanted to check you’ve booked The Plough and that you told them Ashleigh was coming.’
