Page 25 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

Chrissie crouched down so she was on the same level as him. “I’ll help you.” She paused, then whispered. “It’s ok, Ms Rajan isn’t really on a spaceship. She’ll be back in a couple of days.”

Francis gave a small smile. “Good. I miss her,” he said.

It wasn’t long before the class was settled to their task. Chrissie took a moment to surreptitiously message Nisha: “I’m so sorry you’re poorly. Are you ok? Do you need anything? We’re fine here. Me and Dan are keeping the show on the road. x”

The dots on the screen told her Nisha had started replying straight away, a sure sign that she was bored. A moment later, the message appeared: “Thanks, bab. I’m fine. Just sorry to land this on you. Hope the kids are ok. I know we need to talk, right? When I’m better x”

Chrissie couldn’t answer straight away, due to an impending number stick emergency. By the time she got back to herphone it was lunchtime. There was another message from Nisha: “Really hope I haven’t given this to you ;) x”

Chrissie shivered slightly. It was the first time either of them had properly acknowledged the kiss, and her body’s response was very different to her brain’s.

Chapter Twenty

Managing the class by herself had been tiring, but Chrissie had enjoyed it. At home that evening, she opened her journal and began to write:

“Maybe this is something I can do. Maybe I could teach. It would be an incredible way to give back to so many people. It could really start to make up for the mistakes I have made. A chance for atonement, perhaps.”

She picked up a turquoise pen and drew a cloud around her words, before adding more below:

“But I cannot be pushed off course by selfish desires. The kiss between me and Nisha was a momentary thing, a memory of twenty years ago. I need to remember my rules: Give back, of course, but the others, too. Don’t fall in love. Question everything. I cannot go backwards, only forwards. And I need to know who I really am before I let anyone else into my life.”

Chrissie felt a calm descend as she closed the book. Yes, she would be fine. Nisha would understand.

She picked up her phone and messaged Rebecca, the vicar, enthused by her day with her class. An hour later Chrissie foundherself in the church – not a space she normally entered by choice.

“I won’t bite,” came Rebecca’s voice, echoing through the empty gothic space.

Chrissie smiled, uneasily. Questioning everything was hard, and she wasn’t sure whether being in a place of worship suited her. By its very nature, faith did not come with evidence. And Chrissie had put her faith in the wrong people before, with devastating consequences. What she needed now was evidence.

Rebecca gave a wave from the front of the church where she was arranging flowers by the altar.

Chrissie walked towards her friend, taking in the coolness and calmness of the place. She might not have been religious herself, but she could appreciate the solace that some people found in the building.

“I’m leading a funeral tomorrow,” said Rebecca, brightly. “So I want to make sure there are plenty of flowers around the place.”

“Sounds perfect. Where do I start?” asked Chrissie, pleased to have a practical task to complete. Flowers for a funeral were less an article of faith, more a symbol of comfort, and that was something she could get on board with.

The pair chatted as they worked, the vicar’s round figure clad in a hoodie today, rather than the dog collar she would wear the following day.

“So,” said Rebecca, a while into their conversation, “you need to conjure up some cash for this trip to Paris, right? And we need to work out how to do it.”

“Exactly. Not all the kids’ families would be able to afford it, and I really don’t think that we should be doing it unless they can all go,” replied Chrissie, gathering some yellow blooms together to go into one of the vases.

“Well, I fully support that,” said Rebecca, “but you have set yourself something of a steep task. That said, it’s probably easier raising funds for kids to go to France than it is for feeding those that some would rather pretend don’t exist, like we do here.” She screwed up her face to indicate she was thinking hard. Chrissie knew Rebecca would be able to help. She was endlessly creative and well used to strong-arming people into providing time and money in aid of those less fortunate.

“Thanks, Rebecca. I realise this isn’t feeding the needy, but I do think it’s worth doing,” said Chrissie, moving onto the next arrangement of flowers.

“It’s all legitimate, my dear.” Rebecca was working at twice the speed of Chrissie, who was no slouch herself. The vicar’s efficiency was the stuff of legend. “Everyone deserves a chance to see something amazing. For these kids, maybe it’s the Eiffel Tower.” She finished the vase she was working on. “Et voila! We’re done. Thank you so much for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” said Chrissie, happy that her handiwork might make what would be a difficult day a little easier.

“I’ll have a bit of a think about your trip funds, but in the meantime, how well do you know these kids’ parents? Kings Heath has a bit of everything, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there are one or two mums or dads who are well connected with some of the big companies in the city centre. They like to do their bit for ‘the community’,” she put air quotes around the words. “Be careful with the conversation, mind, no one wants to feel they’re being pumped for cash, but most people like the idea of being able to help,” she added, as the pair of them walked towards the big wooden front door of the church. The vicar was already pulling out her cigarettes in preparation for an impending smoking break.

“That’s a really good point,” said Chrissie, making a mental note to ask Dan what he knew. He’d taught her class when they were back in Year One. He might have some suggestions.

Chrissie strolled back towards her home, a spring in her step. Rebecca always made her feel like anything was possible. She would start afresh tomorrow and make this happen. She wanted to share her newfound positivity, and pulled out her phone to message Nisha. Then she paused. Should she contact her again today, given what she’d already decided?

Yes, she decided. They were colleagues and friends. This would be fine.

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