Page 13 of Textbook Romance

They stare at my hand then just flick nods at me. Did I win them over? Possibly not. I’m working against a school bell now and a sea of children all moving in different directions. I should have spent last night studying the maps in my orientation pack. I hope those kids gave me good info. We’ll know in five minutes when I’m not in the maths block but staring into the canteen.

‘KEEP TO THE LEFT, PLEASE!’ a voice booms from somewhere. I can’t even see where it came from. It could be played over a loudspeaker for all I know. I feel like I’m on the Tube with a thousand people who are all a foot smaller than me, all keeping left, all getting nowhere. Come and work at our school, Ed and Mia said. They joked it was like a circus, but I thought clowns and ringmasters as opposed to Piccadilly. However, it was a conversation that came at a perfect time. I had to admit the call centre was a little dull and uninspiring, and I’d spent many a day wondering where the breeze was going to take me next. It turns out it would take me here: Griffin Road Comprehensive.

I don’t notice her at first. I think it’s because I’m still preoccupied by the sheer number of children in this place but also because I’ll all too aware of my dodgy timekeeping. I get to the maths block, noticing all those children slowly disappearing into other rooms, desperately trying to read the number plates off the doors. X2, X3… Is it organised like house numbers? I burst into X5 just as the classroom door is about to close.

‘I’m so sorry, I got lost. This is X5, yes?’ I mumble, taking off my bag.

‘It is, Mr Damon. Welcome.’

I look up to see her face. You. I know you. My expression softens, a wave of relief overcoming me to see someone familiar. ‘You… Zo— Swift?’

‘ZoSwift? Yes, I believe that’s my new pop name.’ This raises a laugh from some of the kids, smaller versions of Bobby from before. I realise I’m just stood in front of the board, possibly staring in surprise. She looks less fancy without her wedding garb; tortoiseshell glasses are perched on her nose, her hair tied back from her face. She wears a jumper with wide leg trousers, Doc Martens, big earrings and bracelets up one arm. It’s still stylish, cool and she exudes that warm energy I remember from the wedding. She’s not going to be the sort who screams and throws pens at people. I hope. ‘Would you like to take a seat, Mr Damon?’

‘Sure thing. Where do you want me?’

‘Maybe at the back? Terrill, do you mind having a partner for today?’ Terrill doesn’t look overly thrilled. I think he was hoping for a table to himself.

She smiles and walks up to me, putting an arm to mine and I exhale gently. ‘Good to see you again, Jackers,’ she says quietly. I laugh to myself as she signals to the back of the room. I do as I’m told, navigating the many desks, tripping over someone’s PE kit as I do so. I really am making quite the entrance.

‘Year Eight, this is a new member of staff and he’s just going to observe our lesson today so be nice…’

‘How, Miss?’ a voice pipes up.

‘Oh, I don’t know, Harry – don’t stare, let him use your calculator?’ A murmur of a laugh tells me Zoe knows how to work this room. She looks comfortable here. There’s no fear, this is her natural habitat.

‘Do you not have your own calculator, Sir? That means you get an equipment detention,’ the young lad replies.

‘I do not…’

A once silent, well-behaved class dip into a collective ‘Ooooh’ and all their gazes fall on me.

‘A detention?’ I ask Terrill as I sit down next to him, getting a notebook out of my bag.

‘Yeah, you have to stay here with Miss, after school.’

‘That’s not so bad,’ I say, watching Zoe as she sifts through the room, crouching down to explain something to someone. You can see how that child appreciates the personal approach rather than being shamed for not understanding.

Meanwhile, Terrill gives me a look like I’ve just passed wind. This one will be tough to crack.

‘Well, can I borrow your calculator?’

‘I guess.’

‘And what are we learning today?’ I ask him.

‘We’re chatty chatty at the back there. Are you settled in yet, Mr Damon?’ I hear a voice command from the front of the room. She’s not angry per se; rather, I think I see a glimmer of a smile that she’s having to reprimand the other adult in the room.

‘Yes, Terrill was just letting me use his calculator so I can avoid a detention,’ I reply, putting a thumb up to the air.

‘Well done, Terrill.’

‘Can I give him an achievement point for sharing?’ I say. The class giggles. Terrill looks pleasantly surprised.

‘That’s up to you. Mr Damon?’

‘Yes, Miss?’

She smiles. ‘You’re still chatting…’

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