Page 33 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

The children were incredibly noisy in the tunnel, overexcited and sleep-deprived – the perpetual challenge of any school trip.

“Ok,” said Philippa. “There’s an Auchan supermarket in Coquelles, not long after we emerge on the other side. I’ll speak to the driver and let him know we’re stopping there.”

“She’s worth her weight in gold,” said Nisha, standing next to Chrissie and Dan’s seat and stretching her legs. “To say she’s prepared is an understatement.”

Dan put his thumbs up and Chrissie ‘hmm’d in agreement, relieved that Nisha was being friendlier. She couldn’t help but glance at her old friend’s fingers. Her hands looked strong and capable, in a way that made Chrissie blush, and then berate herself for such unhelpful and inappropriate thoughts. She could imagine them holding her, touching her, feeling her. No, she had to stop this. This was not a route she was going down. Yes, Nisha was being friendlier, but clearly they weren’t meant to be together – Chrissie had her rules, Nisha wasn’t in the right place for it, and they had far too much history. Chrissie adjusted herself in her seat as the train began to slow.

The supermarket was an adventure. Many of the children needed the toilet, because that was the way of school trips. Chrissie and Nisha were sent into the Auchan while Philippa and Dan supervised in the toilet facilities, carefully counting heads at every stage.

“This reminds me of that trip we did to Berlin,” said Nisha, as she and Chrissie grabbed baskets and walked down the well-stocked aisles of the large shopping outlet.

Chrissie remembered it too. “All the meat!” she exclaimed.

“Oh my God, yeah, they seemed to have no clue about vegetarianism back then,” said Nisha with a laugh. “I think you survived on bread and chips.”

“Yes, it was a very beige affair,” replied Chrissie, wrinkling her nose. “Don’t get me wrong, I love a bit of beige as much as the next person, but that was a bit much. My ex-wife would have existed exclusively on beige food, given the choice.”

“Really?” asked Nisha, pausing and looking at Chrissie.

“Yeah,” she said. “We always ate totally different things if we ate out together. We did a lot of things differently from one another, to be honest.”

“A bit of an opposites attract thing?” asked Nisha, cautiously.

“I think so,” said Chrissie. “Although we didn’t always feel like opposites.”

“Jake and I were always into all the same stuff,” Nisha told her. “We both played football, we both taught in primary, we loved watching TV together.” She grimaced slightly. “In the end, it was like we’d stopped having anything to talk about to each other because we were either doing the same things separately or doing them together.” She dropped a selection of cheeses into her basket. “By the time the relationship had come to its end, we felt more like old friends than lovers. Any spark there might have been was long gone.”

“That’s sad,” said Chrissie. “I’m sorry. Are you still friends?” She couldn’t help her curiosity about this great love of Nisha’s life.

“Not sure, really.” Nisha tugged at the toggle on her hoodie and looked at the floor. “I haven’t really been in touch with him since I got here. What about you?”

“What? With Kiera? No, not really,” said Chrissie, making a beeline to the long French loaves of bread. She mentally counted the children and adults and put ten batons in her basket. It seemed odd to be having such a personal conversation in aFrench supermarket, but at the same time, it was surprisingly easy. They walked along, side by side, chatting, safe in the knowledge that they were completely anonymous. “She keeps her distance, and to be honest, I really can’t blame her. She saw the worst of me, and the me that wasn’t really ‘me’ because of the cult, if you see what I mean.”

“Yeah,” said Nisha, “I get it. But perhaps you could be friends one day? It sounds like there were some good things about your relationship, at least.”

“Not after what I did,” said Chrissie, quietly. It was less a dramatic statement than one she felt was truthful and reasonable.

Nisha looked at Chrissie sympathetically, as she placed half a tonne of chocolate into her basket. “I can see how guilty you feel about it, and I can see how much you’ve changed your life because of it. Have you considered that maybe you need to forgive yourself?”

The pair walked towards the tills. “I think this conversation needs to wait until I’ve had a few glasses of wine,” said Chrissie, smiling.

“Well,” said Nisha, scooping up three bottles of red wine in her free hand, “that’s a problem we can definitely fix.”

Chrissie laughed. She loved it when things were easy between them like this.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The school party were staying in a hostel on the outskirts of Paris. The children were hosted in five dormitories of bunk beds. It had taken over an hour to get each child into the right dorm and negotiate who absolutely had to be on the top bunk, and who was too terrified of heights to countenance the idea.

“Good heavens,” said Nisha, flinging herself back on the bed in the twin room she was sharing with Chrissie. “Who knew bunk beds would be so controversial?”

“My favourite bit was when Francis pointed out that you could technically fall from the top bunk, break your neck and die,” said Chrissie, unpacking her small suitcase into the tiny cupboard beside her single bed.

“Oh God,” replied Nisha. “Did you see Dottie’s face? If Philippa hadn’t been there to shut her up, I don’t know what we’d have done. I think Dottie’s mum may become part of my classroom management technique.”

“Tell that to her courtroom clients,” said Chrissie with a laugh. “Hardev wasn’t put off, was he? Trust him to declare he could dive off, land on his head and bounce right back up again!”

“Had to be Hardev, didn’t it?” said Nisha, lying back with her head resting on her arms.

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