‘Ooh, I heard about that. You being mean to darling Matt. All around the party. I’m surprised Angelina hasn’t carved your heart out.’
Rosy whimpered.
‘I think that it’s all a matter of perspective, Marion. Rosy had her reasons and I think she’s a trooper. Seriously, you know better than most how people jump to conclusions about things they know nothing about.’ Chase leapt to her defence.
‘Well, that they do,’ Marion noted knowingly and with vigour, in that way very drunk people do. ‘Don’t you worry, my girl, we’ve got all of half term to sort it out. As long as you apologize before filming starts, it’s all going to be fine.’
Rosy’s whimper became a groan as she buried her head in her hands.
‘Too right, you should be ashamed, and you’ve lost him forever now. Thank God! I’ve found him someone who’ll appreciate him!’ Angelina had finished her phone call and turned back to spitting vitriol at Rosy.
‘I’ll go and get some more drinks then,’ Richard chipped in, his obvious go-to plan in every situation.
‘Good idea.’ His wife grinned.
‘No, no, I don’t want to drink any more.’ Rosy struggled to her feet. ‘I need to get home.’
‘Don’t you go upsetting my brother again!’
‘You’ll never get a taxi from here at this time of night. Here, woah, Rosy, let me help you.’ Marion got to her feet, considerably more unsteady than the woman she was attempting to help. ‘Blue room, Chase?’
‘Yep, of course. Rosy, I think you should stay here tonight. None of us can drive – let’s just get you to sleep. You’ve had a hell of an evening. I can come and sit with you if you want…’
‘Unbelievable!’ Angelina’s fury at what she perceived to be a raging injustice was encapsulated perfectly in her shrill tone.
‘No, no, Chase, that’s fine.’
‘Yes, I’ll take her, you’ll never find it otherwise, and we can have a good old natter whilst I do.’
Rosy let herself be led away. Ten minutes ago she hadn’t thought today could get any weirder and yet now she was being put to bed by Monster Marksharp. Tomorrow, let alone the rest of half term, probably didn’t bear thinking about!
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Half term had whizzed by and the jungle drums of the village had been working overtime after Chase’s party, the facts of which were dissected over a dozen different kitchen tables. Yet, to Rosy’s amazement, everyone was still talking to her. The woman in the village shop was no ruder than usual, the parents were as smiley and chatty as ever and she’d had lunch in the pub on Sunday, complete with Dave and Lynne and the medieval troubadours, and it was just like every other time.
Half term had only been marred by the death of Sylvie’s mum, Margaret. Margaret had lived in the village ever since her twenties and was a cornerstone of the local community. Her death was a great loss and Rosy, along with most of the rest of the village, had attended the funeral. Those that couldn’t fit into the church lined the streets to pay their respects.
Sylvie had followed the coffin, holding the hand of her little boy, who was the spit of her and due to start Penmenna next September, and Rosy felt tears rise and prick her eyes. This certainly put her worries into perspective. How selfish was she worrying about how she was perceived when others had to deal with such loss?
However, as shallow as it made her feel, having the first two days back at school and everyone acting normally, and as far as she was aware no online petition had been set up to oust her, was a huge relief. Her private life had exploded in the soap opera that was village life, her behaviour endlessly gossiped about and yet the sky hadn’t fallen in. All those years and all that fear about being judged by her community, and it had come to nothing. She didn’t quite know what to think.
Now the week was half passed and it was the day that Matt was due in to deliver his assembly and meet the school. Rosy loved watching the school creak to life every morning, and today the children arrived with excitement bubbling out of them like a witch’s cauldron full of firework colours. The news that a local man was coming in to meet them in the Wednesday assembly and explain how everyone was going to be on television meant that the children, who had been excited about the Valentine’s disco, were stratospheric about this.
She herself was a little more trepidatious. She had heard him coming and going in the cottage over the last week but there had been no hellos over the fence, no contact at all. Half of her was grateful for this – he presumably was respecting her need for space – but it meant that their first encounter since Chase’s house was going to be today, in front of a hundred upturned little faces.
Taking the register in class she noticed the clock hands heading ever closer to ten past nine, when assembly would start, and despite impeccable make-up and her most professional suit Rosy was quaking a little. She had a simple introduction planned for Matt and then she would step back and let him take charge. The trouble was her mind wasn’t picturing a simple and calm hall full of children listening obediently and adoringly. Instead it kept filling up with images of her screeching at Matt at the party, and even worse, that night he had come to supper, with his hands on her thighs, his lips… oh for goodness’ sake! This was unbearable. Perhaps she should lock herself in the staff loo and let Marion deal with it.
But of course, she wouldn’t. The children had been practising songs in Matt’s honour: ‘Five Little Peas’ for the youngest and ‘Oats, Peas, Beans and Barley Grow’ for the slightly older ones. And then the very oldest had written and animated a song about a vegetable alphabet – they had pleaded to be let off including U, X and Z, but Mrs Adams wasn’t having any of it.
Rosy was confident that the children would be beautifully behaved in front of the cameras and do the school proud, perhaps with the exception of some of her little ones. Billy, for example, found it next to impossible not to do roly-polies the minute the peas in the song went ‘pop’. She hoped an audience would find it endearing rather than a sign of schoolwide subversion – although she wouldn’t put anything past Edward Grant when it came to finding ammunition.
‘Come on then.’ The time had come. She led her own class into the hall, stopping on the spot when she saw Matt and the rest of the school already waiting. He smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes and he was running his hand across the back of his neck.
Any nerves he had didn’t seem to affect his crazy level of handsome, though. But she knew that after her appalling behaviour she was lucky he had turned up at all. Marion was at his side, no doubt spouting reassurances, and looking like she was going to tuck his curls behind his ear or give him a quick spit-and-scrub on his face. He looked as if he were ready to pass out.
‘Hello, hello!’ Savannah and Chloe had spotted the cameras set up in the corner and were waving frantically, distracting Rosy from the nerves emanating from the man at the front.
The other four- and five-year-olds realized what the girls were doing and also all started frantically waving at the cameramen that Matt had brought with him.
