Page 24 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

A figure in purple lycra was heading in their direction. Chrissie turned slightly and gestured quietly to the jogger to pause. “The kingfisher!” she whispered, hoping the runner would understand. The figure slowed, and then smiled.

“Hello,” she said in a voice just above a whisper, recognition in her face.

“Hello!” exclaimed Chrissie, her heart sinking slightly. It was Dottie’s mum, the ever-present over-involved parent.

“Wow,” said the woman, catching sight of the regal bird. “What a wonderful sight.” She pressed pause on her running watch, and wiped sweat from her brow.

“Yeah,” agreed Rae, a wide smile on their face.

After a few moments, the kingfisher flew off away into the greenery of the woods around the river. The three figures sighed in unison and there was a brief, enjoyable silence.

“Do you have ten minutes for me tomorrow after school?” asked Dottie’s mum. Chrissie set her expression, trying not to hide her surprise at being accosted like this on a Sunday walk. “I’d ask you now, but I need to finish my run – I’m on a strict training plan for the 10k next week,” she said.

“Sure,” said Chrissie. “In fact, you might be able to help me with something.”

“Perfect,” said Philippa, pressing the button on her watch and trotting off along the River Rea.

Chapter Nineteen

It was another awkward morning, and Chrissie couldn’t work out if the butterflies in her stomach were down to looking forward to seeing Nisha, or dreading it.

She turned the corner on her walk to work and saw the school gates. Her heart beat faster, and she almost tripped over her own feet. She stopped and shook her head. This was why this was such a bad idea. She needed to put an end to it. Whatever it was. And in truth, it had just been a moment of madness.

Hadn’t it?

A child whizzed past her on a scooter, bringing her out of her thoughts. A harried-looking father jogged to keep up. “Come on, love,” he said, “we need to get to Asda to get some stuff for tea, don’t go too far ahead.” He met Chrissie’s eyes briefly and smiled. She smiled back, recognising him from the playground, and wondering if there was someone waiting for him and his daughter later today. Did he have a teammate, or was he parenting alone? She knew plenty of children who only had one parent, or travelled between two who lived separately. Kings Heath had a diverse community with a wide variety of family units. Chrissie was always particularly impressed withthose who had complex blended families, with step-parents and siblings, but somehow managed to navigate the peaks and troughs of family life so well.

Chrissie’s phone beeped, pulling her from her reverie. Nisha’s name flashed up. Her stomach flipped. What couldn’t wait for her to arrive in the classroom in the next few minutes?

Nisha’s message read: “Really bad timing, but I’ve come down with some kind of nasty flu bug thing. Can’t come in today, and probably not for a couple of days. Ernest (Hemingway) says she has a plan.”

Chrissie giggled at the new nickname for Mrs Hemingway, and was caught between relief that she didn’t have to have a conversation with Nisha today, and worry that Nisha was sick. But there was little time to think that through. She arrived in her classroom to find Dan there already.

“Good morning,” he said, “it’s going to be a busy couple of days. Nisha’s poorly, so I’m covering her class as well as mine.”

Chrissie nodded. Dan’s class was next door to hers, so it made sense. It would mean more work for her, but she didn’t feel too phased by the prospect. She’d got to know the children pretty well by now, and they were a nice class.

“Just let me know what you need me to do,” she said.

“Well, if you can sort out the numeracy this morning, we can regroup at lunchtime, perhaps?”

“Sure, I’m on it,” she said, feeling a strange pride in being trusted to lead the class herself for the first time.

“I’ll pop my head in now and again, and obviously give me a shout if one of the kids goes feral,” said Dan with a wink.

Chrissie laughed. “Noted.”

The children were, typically, scandalised by the absence of Ms Rajan, immediately conjuring up various conspiracy theories about what had happened to her. Chrissie calmly went throughwhat they needed to work on that morning, trying to ignore Dottie’s insistence that Ms Rajan had been kidnapped by aliens.

“I know, because I saw a weird green light outside my bedroom window last night,” said the girl, her eyes wide. Two other children gasped.

“If I could ask you to please get your numeracy books out and sit down as quickly as possible, that would be grand,” said Chrissie. “And for the record, Ms Rajan has not been kidnapped by aliens.” All the children looked up at her. “She is carrying out fieldwork with them, and will be back on Earth very soon.”

The children’s faces were a cross between surprise and hilarity. Dottie just nodded sagely. “Told you,” she said to her friends.

“Francis,” said Chrissie, “are you ok?”

“I can’t find my book,” said the small boy, who had been slowly gaining in confidence in the few weeks since he joined the school. But this morning his eyes filled with tears.

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