Chapter Seventeen
Rosy had had a successful few days at school since she’d broken the news to her colleagues, and was gratified to find that the staff were determined to support her in the mission to save the school. It was a rare moment of unity and one she hadn’t really experienced before. Following the meeting on Friday, everyone had come into school at the start of the week and put their apathy and their agendas to one side and resolved to work together. She knew that it was going to take more than staff unity and the awesome powers of Marion; they were going to need one grand gesture, something that would really hammer their message home – the value of a village school over a geographically distant mega-beast. She just didn’t know what that gesture was going to be yet.
Valentine’s Day was looming and parents were teeming all over the school, pulling bunting out of cupboards, dripping glitter hearts and stealing all the wall-staplers. The PTA was akin to a military unit. A unit with an extremely capable leader. A leader who had been canvassing the ranks since the news of potential school closure had been made official in the school newsletter at the start of this week. A leader, Rosy realized, that she hadn’t actually seen, or even heard, all day – which was most unusual considering the level of activity. Hmm. However, Rosy had been besieged by parents either popping their heads around her door or stroking her arm as she walked past, their eyes wide with hope, heads nodding and sympathy flowing. All saying things like ‘we believe in you’ and ‘if anyone can save us…’ No pressure then!
Plans were all in place to promote the school and all the great things they did. Rosy had reinjected some fire into their social media pages, and had planned to have traditional media, the local newspaper, present at the dance tomorrow. If she could get the message out there that the school was a vibrant hub of community and excellence, that would be an easy start in turning things around, whilst she tackled any areas of the school that needed strengthening a little more discreetly. She knew where the weaknesses were – everyone always did in a school – it was now her job to gently encourage those members of staff who needed to raise their game, a lot, and quickly. Not easy but compared to keeping Matt out of her head, a doddle.
She literally felt her heart dip into her tummy. If she could succeed at school where things were topsy-turvy, then she could cope with one inappropriate crush at home. The house next door had been quiet since their Sunday lunch there but last night she had heard the cottage whirr and buzz as they did when they were occupied. Knowing Matt and Angelina were both home again made it easier, in theory, to shut down any improper thoughts she may be having about her neighbour. It reinforced his relationship status and how he was morally out of bounds. But, at the same time, she couldn’t escape the awareness that he was there, just there, a wall away.
Rosy gathered some resources together for the maths assessment she was doing this afternoon, ordering brightly coloured plastic counting bears, blocks and fruit onto a table in front of her. That was it! She could manage Matt and Angelina’s presence by having a lesson plan for her evenings, even carry out a risk assessment for potential trouble spots. If she did this every night, just for a short while, then she could train her brain not to respond to their presence, not to think about him coming home from work and jumping into the shower and… oh, for goodness’ sake!
Her lesson plan for tonight would be simple: she would cook dinner, with extra left over for tomorrow – disco night! She would be kept busy for some time in the kitchen, cutting, scraping, steaming, frying, which she could do whilst juggling some of Marion’s more extreme suggestions in her head. After supper she could have a long bath and make a start on that book Lynne had lent her. In fact, if she had a glass of wine at supper and another in the bath, she was almost guaranteed to fall asleep nice and early, lesson plan complete and next door avoided. Perfect.
She looked up as the children began to pile into the classroom from their lunch playtime. Billy was bowling in with a silly walk and daft expression on his face, lips pulled back and teeth bared comically. Chloe came in squabbling with her friends about the best way to hold a kitten – because she had a kitten and knew everything in the world, ever, that there was to know about kittens and other people who had cats didn’t know about kittens at all! Bradley followed in last of all, accompanied by Jack, with whom he was very slowly beginning to develop a quiet friendship. Rosy couldn’t help but grin a welcome at them; there was nothing better to take her mind off a man than trying to corral this lot into order and teach them some maths.
That evening she arrived home and immediately noticed that all the lights in next door’s cottage were out. She felt her shoulders relax a little as she headed into the kitchen, popped the kettle on and sat in her favourite chair. She kicked her shoes off and allowed herself to close her eyes and loll her head as she waited for the water to boil. Lovely.
But Rosy’s ears kept pricking up with every car that passed, every clatter on the street. Even with a cup of tea made, a slice of lemon drizzle and a quick episode of her favourite show, the knots in her shoulders were still hovering. Instead of fully loosening up, she felt as if she were waiting for the door to burst open and an accusation from Angelina or a demand from Matt to be hurled at her, probably in tandem.
As she pottered around the kitchen the relief at having her evening mapped out turned into irritation. What was wrong with her? Why on earth did she do this to herself? Why was this teenage version of her taking control? She hadn’t done anything wrong; yes, she may have a bit of a crush on Matt but she hadn’t actually done anything about it. There were no accusations for Angelina to hurl. And why would Matt turn up and make demands? Was it really time to say it again?
Matt.
Was.
Not.
Josh.
She needed to boot insecure, anxiety-prone teenage Rosy back into her box and let adult, controlled Rosy back out. And preferably before dinner.
A door slammed next door and a frisson shot up her back. She gave the sauce another stir and a glimmer of a smile played at the edges of her mouth. There was a flush of pleasure at the thought of the two of them standing side by side preparing their suppers and settling down for a relaxing night in with only that wall between them. She remembered the roast and his silly sense of humour and allowed her smile to fully develop. He was lovely. Oh, and that daft hat and instrument, and the way he had lent her his jacket on the walk home that very first Sunday. Oh, and how he loved Lou Reed as much as she did. And the way his shirts were rumpled, as if someone had tried to iron them but didn’t have a clue how. And that daft dog!
He wasn’t a threat. Yes, he was flirtatious but he wasn’t a threat. He hadn’t tried to take over her whole life, to control her, to hide her away, to ruin her. How had she let herself get so riled up over this just because he was her neighbour? She pictured him tilting his head and looking at her with that quizzical amused look he’d had the day they met.
‘That doesn’t give you permission to now jump in there and have occupancy,’ she said out loud to the image in her mind. Not that she was mad or anything. It was just that speaking out loud when she needed to tell herself off made it more real somehow. Gave it a bit of welly. She couldn’t help but giggle as the image of him raised both his eyebrows and nodded slowly, as perhaps you would with someone a little slower than yourself.
‘Ange! Angelina!’ she heard him calling through the wall, and as she did so the twinkling image popped out of her mind. ‘Ange!’
And that was why he wasn’t allowed in her head. There was a timely reminder!
The lesson plan clearly hadn’t worked; she needed to approach this differently. Glad that her one sharp talk to herself had taken the edge off the fear, now she just needed to concentrate on the lust. Perhaps if she made herself a star chart? What could her reward be? No! She reprimanded herself as her brain quickly flashed an idea at her – that was not appropriate for the problem in hand. Not at all!
She heard him enter the garden, which was a coincidence because although she was trying to get him out of her mind she was just about to go and feed the birds. Honestly, she was! She rifled through a couple of drawers before she found the peanuts, and smugly opened her own back door only to hear him mutter a couple of her own favourite words under his breath.
‘Hey, good evening,’ she called through the fence. There was no harm being neighbourly.
‘Oh hey, Rosy. Is that you?’ came the upbeat tone back.
‘Yep, just topping up the birds.’
‘Oh, that’s good. More people should do that. You are good.’
She smiled. She was. Should she invite him over for a slice of cake? Oh, for goodness’ sake, that had taken all of two seconds. Have some self-control, girl!
‘Hmm, not always.’ Oh, and bloody hell, that was meant to be truthful self-deprecating judgement, not flirty! Maybe she should just jump over the fence in nothing but a G-string and make a complete fool of herself, just get it all over and done with and out of the way quick.
‘Really?’ It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or interested.Doesn’t matter, she told herself,just be grateful he didn’t respond with some icky comment about promises or some such nonsense. Lucky escape.
