‘So, she’s not dating anyone?’
‘Oh my God, I can’t take much more of this!’ came Angelina’s ever-patient reply as she picked up her phone again.
‘But is she dating anyone?’
‘How the hell am I supposed to know? Perhaps she’s a lesbian? It would explain those shoes,’ piped up his sister. This thought was so delicious she managed to switch focus from her screen back to the conversation.
Matt looked at her as if she were insane. He was fairly sure sexuality wasn’t something that dictated which shoes one bought.
‘I don’t think she is.’
‘I’ve never seen any signs to say otherwise.’
‘Have you actually seen any signs that she is?’
‘She doesn’t wear very much make-up, and she owns walking boots and a cagoule!’ Angelina was triumphant; it was obviously a clincher.
Oh dear, his sister’s views were clearly coming from some pre-World-War-Two era, if not before. He didn’t have the energy to challenge this right now.
‘See.’ Angelina struggled to mask her triumph. ‘You need to stop wasting time, mooning about her. It all makes sense now. Start chasing women that actually like you, or men at the very least.’
‘She does actually like me!’
‘Hmmm, clearly not. She obviously didn’t like you very much the other night and you do seem to be here alone.’
‘She did at one point! I thought she decided not to see me because she was dating someone else, someone like Chase, but if that’s not the case…’
‘Oh my God, she’s not dating Chase, she doesn’t like men! I’ve had enough of this, I’m going to fetch some more fizz.’ Angelina stomped out of the room, phone in hand, and left Matt with the dog.
‘I need a really bold idea, a romantic gesture that declares how I feel. But it can’t be stalky. That’s the trouble, isn’t it, Scramble? Some of those old-school romantic gestures are a little bit creepy and I need to be careful. Rosy was so upset the other night, I don’t want to make things worse…’ He felt he might be slurring his words, but thankfully Scramble was not too harsh a judge. ‘What do you think I should do?’ The dog, usually so supportive, remained mute, cocking his head and looking at Matt but not actually giving him an answer. Matt was not going to let that stop him. ‘Maybe an orchid isn’t enough – perhaps a plane with a banner, or a flowerbed with a declaration planted. I could do it on the show. She’s such a love…’ He saw her in his mind, all petite and furious, and then somehow, the dancing, the whirling, the giggling and the arguing was all forgotten and he found that he was really very, very sleepy.
As he laid his head back, ready to slide into sleep, he heard the living room door thwack open as his sister returned to the room. Opening one eye he could see she had her most determined look on, and that she was holding her mobile aloft with the triumphant stance of a cup winner.
‘It’s confirmed. All your problems are solved – Siobhan will be back in the country in a few weeks. You can thank me later!’
Chapter Thirty
Friday dawned clear, which provided more relief than was natural to Rosy as she popped her wellies into the car. Despite her gratitude to Matt for making the assembly go smoothly and not using the opportunity to quiz her over her outburst, today was likely to be a bit of a marathon and she wanted it to go as well as possible. With her overseeing and ferrying groups of children, to and from Penmenna Hall, getting them familiar with the grounds, what they would be doing in the garden and the cameras, it was to be a day ripe with possibilities. But not the sort of possibilities she could get excited about.
The sheer logistics of driving the school minibus with ten small children (fifteen of the older ones) and a healthy smattering of parent helpers to and from the grounds, and then to and from again, and again, throughout the day were tricksy enough. As professional as she was, the thought of pasting on her camera-friendly smile for the entire day, after having to sing ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ several times on the journey, was of concern. She was really excited about this project but had a feeling she’d be ready for the quiet of her office and the warmth of never-ending coffee way before the day was even halfway over. She had visions of herself being dragged off by three o’clock, head to toe in mud and screeching for buckets of gin. She was a realist, after all.
Throw the presence of Matt into the mix and her ongoing mental conflict that his presence had reignited in her life, along with small children, mud, potentially sharp tools, hovering but well-intentioned parents and a camera catching every mud pie flung, every seed eaten and every micro-expression made was not a relaxing thought.
She pulled up at the school and raced to her office. She had one or two final early morning phone calls to make to confirm what she thought was the motivating factor behind Edward Grant’s list choices. Then she wanted to just revel in the calm before the day got manic and whilst she still had the chance. Her peace was not to last as Harmony knocked on the door and let herself in before starting to witter on about animal rights. Rosy wasn’t entirely sure where this was going but she knew it was very definitely interrupting the only calm she had anticipated for the day. She also knew it was a head’s duty to listen to her staff and their concerns, but she had been finding duty rather irksome of late.
Trying to stop zoning out, she refocused on Harmony only to hear her talking about worms and slugs. God give her strength! This was going to require physical force, and so that was what she employed. Muttering reassurances about animal rights being heavily protected and indeed promoted onsite, she forcibly pushed Harmony out of the room and shut the door behind her. She would try extra hard to be nice to her on Monday.
It wasn’t long before she was standing in the playground with Marion counting the first batch of children into the minibus. She had Billy with her, and Chloe. It was tactical; they would be wound up so tight if they were made to wait as the day progressed. By having them in the first cohort, less damage would potentially be done. Seatbelts were checked and double checked, songs were sung and rules reiterated. So far so good.
She also had Bradley with her in this group, accompanied by his specially assigned teaching assistant, Becky. The educational psychologist, Katie, had also come along this morning to monitor Bradley, to assess how the support they had in place for him so far was going and what the next step would be. She would continue assessing him in the classroom once he had returned to school and then would feed back to Rosy at lunchtime. Rosy had already emailed her and given her a heads-up about the Save Our School campaign and was really hoping Katie would come on board. Well-respected throughout the county, her voice could be impactful.
They pulled up in the grounds as close as they could get to the orangery where they had arranged to meet Matt but Rosy could see no sign of him. The camera crew were already set up and waved a hello as the children headed into the kitchen garden area in a crocodile of pairs, all dressed in wellies and waterproofs. The first ten children were only four or five years old and looked so cute; they were going to be TV gold.
‘Hi!’ Rosy beamed at Bob and Sid.
‘Hi, are you all ready?’
‘Yep, think so. Are we ready, class?’ she turned and asked them. There was a high energy response that couldn’t help but make the crew grin. Billy was so ready he high-fived the entire group of children and the parents too. Rosy gently turned him back and popped him into the crocodile again.
