Page 10 of Textbook Romance

Mia’s eyes widen, choking on the bottle of beer she had put to her mouth.

‘Not that sort of escort. I was a security escort. I used to drive an armoured vehicle. It paid very well.’ And I won’t lie, I liked the uniform. It made me look really hard. I don’t say that out loud. I also don’t say that I was petrified of what would happen if anyone ever tried to hold up our van. I’d have likely shat myself. ‘I am just temping in a call centre for now. Pays the bills, you know?’

I don’t say that with any shame. Work is work, but I can sense some disappointment in all their eyes that I should be doing more. They were all there when we graduated. They knew what happened and why I had to give up my own life for a while to help those I loved, but I think they always hoped I’d get back on track eventually.

‘Sarah, I can see you silently judging me,’ I tell her.

‘I’m not… I’m just… How are Dom and the boys?’

Sarah always asks about Dom and the boys, my nephews, and secretly, I like how she’s invested in them and understands the very closeness of our relationship.

‘They’re good.’ I get out my phone to show them my screensaver. It’s the four of us at Thorpe Park. It was quite possibly one of the best days out ever because there were no queues, so we got to go on most of the rides at least four times. However, given Sarah’s line of questioning, I feel that might be too juvenile an admission to make.

I take another of her canapés. ‘You never give Rafe the Spanish inquisition…’

Sarah turns her back to the barbeque. ‘That’s because we like you more. You’re our little Jack Attack. We humour Rafe because we’ve known him for so long, but that jackass will be fine. We just want you to…’

‘Sarah, you sound like my mum.’

She shakes her head and stuffs another canapé in my mouth.

‘I think what they’re asking is whether you’re happy,’ Mia intervenes, looking confused at some of the detail of the conversation. ‘I don’t know you well enough but you’re happy, yeah?’

I nod. ‘I know you all think that I don’t have any direction. I still live in a house share, I have no career, no girlfriend. But I’m good, you know? Worry about things that matter. Climate change, that’s bloody awful.’

‘We worry because we love you,’ Sarah tells us.

‘I love you, too. It’s why I came all the way to Manchester. Despite that really ridiculous sign in your kitchen…’ I jest.

‘Hakeem’s mum gave that to us. I am obliged to display it,’ Sarah whispers out of the corner of her mouth and we all laugh. There’ve been far too many reunions in these past years, too much time spent together, too many moments and shared jokes for us not to be friends anymore. Maybe, secretly, I love that they care.

‘Hey, if you were thinking of a career change – our school is desperate for supply teachers. I think it’s just short-term contracts but…’ Mia tells me.

Ed bobs his head from side to side. ‘It’s an option. Pay is decent. You taught English for a while, you’d be a shoo-in. Plus, you’d get to see us every day.’

I smile. ‘I’m not sure that’s a selling point, mate.’

He laughs but it does trigger something in me. I wasn’t an awful teacher, and I can handle kids. It would possibly be more interesting than the call centre where I have to hide my teabags and people shout at me a lot despite not knowing me. Perhaps a change is needed. Again. Ed and Mia seem to thrive in what they do and they found each other through teaching so maybe it’s something to consider.

‘DM me some details?’ I tell Ed who puts a thumb up at me.

‘Well, I think that would be amazing! You’d be so good at that, Jack,’ Sarah says, enthusiastically.

I shift her a look. ‘But what about the circus? I’m expected in Budapest. The lions…’ I joke.

Ed laughs. ‘He’d just be moving to a different type of circus, that’s all. I think the kids would love you. Everyone loves you.’

I smile at all of them, looking down at little Bowie dry-humping my leg. Maybe.

TWO

Zoe

There is one thing they don’t tell you when you become a teacher, which is that in all your years of teaching, you will be exposed to a ridiculous amount of cake and biscuits. I don’t quite know where it all comes from. Half the time it’s someone’s birthday but most of the time, we seem to mark special occasions with baked goods – everything from the end of a half term to someone being promoted. Mandy is now assistant deputy pastoral care leader. Someone bake some brownies!

I look down now at the Tupperware in my hands that contains jam and coconut confections. It’s the first day of term in a new school year. I’m not sure what I’ve done but I hope I haven’t missed an email about a promotion. I look up at Ed in the middle of this crowded staff room, buzzing with activity as we all brace ourselves for the school year ahead.

‘WHO CHANGED ALL THE PASSWORDS?’ I hear someone scream from the corner. Well, it wasn’t me. But I suspect it’s the same person who keeps stealing the staff milk. Oh, it’s good to be back.

---