Page 106 of Love Letters on Hazel Lane

He looked over at Leona, who gave him a thumbs up.

‘Caroline, at this rate, we won’t be wanting you back at all!’ said David. He laughed, but it seemed like an afterthought. An attempt to reassure her that she would be welcome back and he wasn’t one of those bosses who discriminated against new mothers.

Jo glanced over at Leona, who smiled. She actually smiled.

David returned to his office, closing the door behind him, and Jo turned her attention to her computer; it was high time she got on with some actual work. It was then that she noticed it: the shiny, gold wrapper of something poking out from under one of her notebooks. She lifted the notebook to reveal a family-sized bar of Galaxy. There was a Post-it note stuck on it that simply read, Thank you. She looked back over at Leona but her colleague now had her gaze firmly fixed on her screen.

*

On Friday evening, Jo decided she would go the Scrabble club. After all, it might be the last one ever if she couldn’t find an alternative place for them all to meet or persuade the vicar to let them stay on in the church hall until it was sold; she had an appointment to see him the following day. She made an effort with her appearance: her best jeans, her clingiest top, a hint of mascara and she even tried to blow-dry her hair so that it was straight.

When she walked into the church hall, she couldn’t believe her eyes. The place was full. Full!

‘It’s been really busy recently,’ said Razz. He didn’t seem to have noticed the change in her appearance. Perhaps it was too subtle.

‘Such a shame about…’

‘Don’t breathe a word,’ he said. ‘I haven’t told them yet.’

‘But tonight’s the last night, isn’t it? Unless I can persuade the vicar tomorrow. And that’s a big if. You’ll have to warn them at least.’

‘Yes, so I don’t want to spoil it. I’m not going to tell them till the end.’

It was only half past six. Apparently, Scrabble club started at half past five these days. Until seven o’clock was ‘family time’. Everyone was welcome, but the Junior Scrabble boards were out along with the adult boards.

Jo recognised several familiar faces from the school. Alfie was there, of course, along with his pushy mother. He was playing with three other children, all younger than him, and appeared to be helping them rather than trying to win the game himself.

Mr Morgan, the head teacher, was there too. He came over as soon as he saw her.

‘Great, isn’t it?’ he said.

‘Yes, it’s wonderful.’

‘It’s had quite an impact at school too. The children are mad for Scrabble. We have two lunchtime clubs and an after-school group. And I shouldn’t tell you this…’ he lowered his voice ‘…but Mrs Hamilton-Jones has been a much less frequent visitor to my office lately.’

‘And yet you can’t accommodate the club on a Friday?’

‘Jo, I told you…’ began Razz.

‘As I explained to Razz,’ said Mr Morgan, ‘a member of staff would need to stay. Partly to lock up afterwards and partly for insurance reasons. And no-one wants to give up their Friday evening.’

‘Did someone mention insurance?’ said Malcolm from across the hall. He began to head towards Mr Morgan, almost tripping over a small, blonde-haired girl who jumped up suddenly from the table where she’d been playing with Alfie and ran towards Mr Morgan, shouting, ‘Daddy! Daddy! I won!’ She flung her arms round his legs. Jo had never realised he had children of his own.

‘Best get this one home,’ he said, ruffling his daughter’s hair. ‘Come on, sugarplum.’

As the parents and children left, and the Junior Scrabble games were packed away into their boxes, more people began to arrive. The usual crowd – Cosmic, Sylvia and Florence were the first – plus some new faces Jo didn’t recognise.

‘It’s great that it’s so popular,’ Jo said to Razz. ‘It’s exactly what you wanted. People from all walks of the community, all different ages, gathering together, playing a few games and getting to know each other. Becoming… what was that phrase you used?’

‘Socially embedded,’ he said.

‘Exactly. Becoming socially embedded. Personally, I feel very socially embedded right now.’

She tried to say that in a flirty way, a tiny hint of emphasis on the ‘bed’ of ‘embedded.’ Hoped it made him think that he might want to be embedded with her, but he seemed oblivious. He glanced round the room, his shoulders hunched slightly, an air of defeat about him.

‘Pointless though, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘If we can’t find somewhere new, it will all have been for nothing.’

*