Page 55 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

“I get it,” said Nisha. “But can’t you see this is a massive opportunity for me?”

“I absolutely can,” said Chrissie. “But at the same time, I can also see how it impacts on us in ways I’m not totally sure about.” She balled her fists in her lap. “If you want to take the job, you should totally do it,” she continued. “I couldn’t forgive myself for holding you back. But I’m not sure I can follow you there.”

Nisha’s eyes widened in fear. “But what do you mean? That this would be all over? That this would be a distance relationship?”

“Nisha,” said Chrissie, “I don’t know what I mean. I’m just telling you how I feel as I sit here right now in front of you. I don’t want to end this, absolutely not. I love you. But I also knowI need to make sure I don’t destroy the fragile life I’ve built for myself here in Kings Heath.”

“Of course,” Nisha replied, quietly. Her eyes were beginning to look red, and Chrissie worried she might cry, something Nisha very rarely did. “You’re right, of course you are. You need to focus on what you need. I’m sorry, I’ve sort of landed this on you with no warning. I feel a bit taken aback by it myself. But know this,” she said, laying her hand on Chrissie’s, “I love you too. I am sure we can work this out.”

Chrissie smiled at her, but the smile didn’t touch her eyes. She wasn’t convinced they would be able to work it out.

“I feel like the world is getting in our way, now,” said Chrissie. And as she rolled out of bed the next morning, she picked up her phone and yawned. The day felt drained of colour.

She made herself a peach iced tea to try and inject some vibrancy into the morning. She thought back to Nisha’s suggestion that they could try and have a distance relationship – take it in turns to travel to see each other every weekend. It was a possibility, she supposed. But it wasn’t one that filled Chrissie with hope, even though it would only be for a year. In truth, she knew how good Nisha was at her job, and felt sure the twelve-month contract would be extended. And who was Chrissie to hold her back and tell her she needed to come back to her in Birmingham?

She opened her phone to find a text message from Nisha, wishing her a good morning with a kissing emoji. Chrissie groaned. They’d gone their separate ways the day before, sleeping in their respective beds for the first time in a few weeks. It felt like a sign. It was time to get the journal out and try to work things through in her own mind before she did anything else.

Chapter Fifty-One

Bits of tinsel were beginning to appear around the school, much to the children’s delight. It brightened up an otherwise grey and rainy Monday morning. Dottie, Francis and Hardev and their classmates were working hard on their maths, while Nisha and Chrissie looked over the syllabus to see what they still needed to cover by the time the Christmas holidays rolled in.

“I think we’ve done pretty well so far this term,” said Nisha. “They can be a bit of a handful, but they’re getting on well.”

“Yeah,” agreed Chrissie, following Nisha’s finger down the educational ‘to-do’ list. “They’ve really taken to you, which I think helps hugely.”

Nisha smiled. “Thanks,” she said. But sadness swiftly filled the gap between them. This was a class that might need a new teacher again in a couple of months. “I could turn the job offer down,” she whispered.

“We can’t talk about this here,” said Chrissie, her voice low, knowing that she would never ask Nisha to turn down the opportunity of a lifetime. She couldn’t be that selfish. Never again.

“Ah,” came a decisive voice from the classroom door. “Miss Anderson, if I might have a quick word, please?”

Mrs Hemingway was looming over the class, all the children having turned around to look at her, their eyes wide. “Good morning, Mrs He-ming-way,” they chanted, as they’d been taught to in reception whenever a teacher visited the class.

“And good morning to you all, class,” replied Mrs Hemingway, with her most encouraging smile. The children beamed. She might be a bit of a mystery to the staff team, but the children adored her.

“Excuse me a moment,” said Chrissie to the class. “I’ll be right back.” She couldn’t push down the increase in her heart rate. Mrs Hemingway had never pulled her out of class like this before, and she sensed it heralded something very good, or alternatively, something very bad. She scanned through her memories of the last couple of weeks at school and tried to recall anything she might have done to merit a telling off. Beyond calling Hardev a ‘wally’, which she was fully prepared to defend – mainly because he was being one at the time – she couldn’t think of anything. But her nerves were very much apparent as Mrs Hemingway shut the classroom door behind them and they stood together in the hallway.

“Thank you, Miss Anderson, so sorry to disturb you. Now, I’ll get right to business. I want to offer you a teacher training post here, starting in September next year,” said Mrs Hemingway, all business.

Chrissie gulped. “Really?”

“You seem surprised. You really shouldn’t be,” said the head teacher, patting Chrissie on the shoulder like she was one of the children. “You’ve been an asset to this school ever since you started, and I have absolutely no doubt you will be an exceptional teacher.”

“Thank you,” said Chrissie, aware that while this improved her professional life no end, it added another layer of complication to her personal situation.

“It would of course mean hard work next year – teaching in school and also studying at college for part of the time. Assignments, and the like,” Mrs Hemingway told her. “But I don’t doubt for a moment that you are up to that.”

“I hope so,” said Chrissie, slightly breathless in the moment.

“So,” said the head teacher, “will you accept?”

“Of course!” replied Chrissie, knowing she had even more to think about now than she’d had just a few minutes earlier.

“You and Ms Rajan make quite the team,” said Mrs Hemingway, with a wink. “I’m sure she’ll prove very supportive to you next year, as you teach side by side.”

“Yes,” agreed Chrissie. Nisha obviously hadn’t told Mrs Hemingway about the likelihood of her imminent departure. And it wasn’t Chrissie’s news to share.

Chrissie returned to the classroom, Nisha’s eyes looking quizzically over at hers. She couldn’t say anything know, though.

---