Page 17 of Textbook Romance

Yeah, Max’s mum is giving me a lift back. Love ya, Mum.

And an admission of love. Usually, I’d only see that when he wanted a favour.

Love you too x

I stare at the message and then notice a conversation from Lottie from when I first got out of school.

OMG you’ll never guess who I saw on the bus I saw Chloe but then I didn’t talk to her because I don’t want to because at the end of the day her mum and my dad got together and I blame her mum really because she was obvs unhappy in her marriage and so you think the way to get out of your marriage is to go after my dad? No way. Anyways, I blanked her and it was awks but to hell with that whole family if you ask me. ISTG I will go after Liz if I see her, like properly. LY mum. I’m going to go into town and get chips HMU if you need anything but still save me din dins xxxx

Lottie has all the words, all the emotions, and I worry about whether she’s over-processing or actually doing the good and proper thing which is to express it all. They’re both such different kids but, by god, the love I feel for both of them sits deeply in my soul. I’d move mountains for each of them. These are usually mountains of laundry but still.

I hear voices enter the pub toilet and I’m not sure why, but I move my feet up, just in case it’s Claudia who’s followed me in here to ask me more about the catastrophes of my life.

‘It’s fine, it’s empty… Quickly…’

‘Are you sure there aren’t cameras? Could we get caught?’ Christ, that’s a man’s voice.

I clutch my phone to my chest, still half dangling my feet in some sort of strange pose that I think must be doing wonders for my core. I should cough to let them know I’m here but strangely I can’t do it and stay silent.

‘You told me on our honeymoon that this was one of your fantasies.’

‘Yeah, but…’

I recognise the voices. It’s Mia and Ed from school and, from the sound of things, they have a reason to be in here that doesn’t involve relieving their bladders or handwashing. I arch my eyebrows. They’re young, they’re consenting and married so it’s really none of my business but I’m not sure I want to hear what that might entail or look them in the eye tomorrow in the staff room. Also, this might make me sound a tad old but… hygiene? I am quite a way off shagging someone in a public restroom, though I could be more tempted in a posh London hotel. The sort that have fabric handtowels and ylang-ylang in the soap.

I hear both bodies moving into the cubicle next to me and a body pushed up against the partition dividing us. Oh dear. Are they really? I hear a giggle and a zip unfastening. They are. It’s breathy, that’s for sure. Is that a slurping noise? What is she slurping? Face or… Oh dear. Oh, he likes that. She laughs. I can’t be here. I slowly unlock the door. Please don’t be a squeaky door. This is easy to do, just tiptoe out of here, don’t breathe, don’t make a sound. I tuck my handbag over my shoulder and make tentative moves out of the door to hear what can only be described as a low-grade grunt. Tiptoe quicker, Zoe. I don’t just tiptoe, there are hand movements, too, like the Grinch, like I’m wading through air. When I get to the main door, some mischievous urge overtakes me, and I let it slam behind me to snap them back into the room.

‘Your feet, they’ll see your feet!’ And I laugh at the sound of what can only be Ed climbing onto a toilet and then a crack of ceramics.

‘You look like you’re mid-dance move,’ a voice tells me in the low-lit corridor and I swivel to see Jack standing there, observing me creeping out with my hands still in mid-air like dinosaur claws.

I put my hands down, smiling. ‘I was drying my hands, obviously,’ I say, blushing. Jack. Jack with his satchel. I like the satchel. It makes him look like some sort of earnest student. I imagine it’s filled with sepia-paged books, a scarf and a leather notebook filled with bad poetry. He cocks his head to one side, that kindness in his eyes shining through again. There is something about Jack that makes me stop and take a breath.

‘Don’t think me weird,’ he tells me. ‘I just came to find you to see how you are. Claudia was a bit of a twat, to be fair. You seemed upset.’ His expression and tone are warm, and I smile in reply. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m glad it wasn’t just me being sensitive then. How did you extricate yourself from her clutches?’ I ask him.

‘I told her I was going out for a smoke. It’s my go-to get-out clause with her now.’

I laugh. ‘Well, that’s kind of you, Jack – thank you. I just… It’s very new. The separation. I haven’t worked out how you reveal that sort of new information to people.’

‘You don’t. You tell her it’s none of her business,’ Jack says, matter-of-factly. ‘Your private life should never be up for discussion like that.’

‘Possibly,’ I say, grinning at this young man’s wisdom. I adjust my handbag over my arm, and lean round to poke my head out to the main pub area. It’s time to leave, to remove the risk of getting drawn into more emotionally draining conversations. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening, I’m going to head back to my kids. It’s good to see you again.’ I put my hand on his arm, and he looks down at it, like last time. I forget that I don’t know him as well as I feel I do. I retract it immediately, hoping I haven’t made him uncomfortable.

‘Or… maybe,’ he ponders. ‘I think I’m done here, too. HR made me complete five thousand staff training questionnaires today – I failed my fire safety quiz five times.’

‘How does one do that?’ I ask.

‘The quiz told me if the school was on fire and a kid refused to leave that I should leave them. I plain refused.’

‘You’d carry thirty kids on your back out of there?’ I ask.

‘Naturally. But to do that, I’d have to eat. Have you eaten?’

I shake my head.

‘Well, if you could eat anything now that might make your life a little better, what would it be?’

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