Page 5 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

She reminded herself. Rule two: Question everything. Why was Nisha back? Why was she going to be working so closelywith Chrissie? Could it really just be chance? Did Nisha know how far into Chrissie’s throat her heart had leapt? Did Nisha remember the past the same way Chrissie did? Had she felt the same shock at meeting again?

She listed these questions, one by one, with a purple asterisk next to each. Most of them had no answers, but putting them on the page helped.

Then, as routine dictated, time for rule three: Give back.

Tomorrow was the first day of term. The children would be returning from their summer breaks. Many would be tanned and happy from family time away in the sunshine. Some would have spent the few weeks helping care for members of their family, or perhaps finding a safe place amid chaos and difficulty. The summer holidays were a mixed blessing. Children and staff looked forward to them so much, but on return, some children would be in desperate need of routine, support, reliable grown-ups, and in some cases, food.

Chrissie took out her phone and texted Dan Harvey. He’d been looking for volunteers for breakfast club. This was part of a drive to ensure every child had something in their stomach to start the day. She confirmed she’d be there at half past seven, ready and willing with a plastic apron and catering gloves.

She went to bed trying not to think about the year ahead, and the time she would be spending with Nisha.

Chapter Four

The sun was shining again, which always made the first day of term a little easier. Chrissie had decided today was a new day. She and Nisha were adults now, in their forties. They had lived multitudes of lives since their teens and could absolutely work together effectively and professionally. She arrived in the school kitchen at half past seven, as promised, to find Dan already laying out loaves of bread and vast quantities of margarine.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said, smiling as he spoke. “Glad I’m not the only girly swot in today.”

“You can count on me, Dan. Love the jumper, by the way,” said Chrissie, admiring the pink and yellow V-neck he sported.

“Thanks. I always like to welcome the newbies with a bit of colour.” He pulled the lid off one of the massive cartons of marg with gusto, then dropped eight slices of toast into the two large toasters that had been donated.

“You’ve got Reception this year, then?” asked Chrissie, as she started getting the plates ready.

“Yep, God love ’em.” Dan twinkled as he spoke. He was one of those teachers who seemed to genuinely love the job. It couldbe a thankless profession at times, but he never seemed to let the stress get to him. He was often the first in in the morning, and it had been Dan that had done the deal with local supermarkets to provide breakfast supplies every day. This was their second year doing breakfast club.

“Whereas I’ve got Year Four this time.”

“Hmmm,” said Dan, pulling open another loaf of bread. “All the gear and no idea? Yes, I remember that age-group. Always entertaining. They’re beginning to feel like they’re all grown up…”

“And yet,” said Chrissie, buttering like fury.

“… they are utterly clueless,” concluded Dan. “But still, you’re less likely to be clearing up puddles on the classroom floor than I am.” He paused to reload the toasters, while Chrissie popped the buttered toast under the hot lamps. “So, I gather we have fresh meat teaching Year Four this year.”

“Oh my God, Dan. Fresh meat?”

Dan giggled. “OK, I’m just trying to make things more interesting. So, what’s she like? I saw her briefly in a meeting yesterday, but she didn’t say much. She’s going to be your work-wife this year, so you must have views.”

Chrissie felt the heat spread across her face, and looked down to focus on her margarine-spreading.

“For what it’s worth,” added Dan, “she looks like just your type.”

“Oh my God, Dan, again, we are in a place where children are being educated and enriched, calm down!” Chrissie pursed her lips, aware that he was right. “To be fair,” she continued, “I’ve not had a chance to talk to her much. She was very busy yesterday. She’s not really a super-chatty person.”

“Ah, so you’ve gleaned that much already,” said Dan, putting a pile of freshly toasted bread at Chrissie’s side.

She sighed, deciding that less was more. “Well, that’s how she seemed to me.”

“Here we are,” came a voice from the other side of the hatch that opened into the school hall. “I’m sure Miss Anderson and her friend will be able to find you some yummy toast, and that’s bound to help, isn’t it?” Chrissie looked up to see Nisha, shepherding towards them a small boy with the red eyes of someone who’d just been crying.

Chrissie caught her breath, hoping Nisha hadn’t heard them gossiping about her, and noting her navy chinos and Converse. She smiled at Nisha and the boy. “This is Francis,” said Nisha. “He’s in our class, Miss Anderson.”

Chrissie went mildly pink again. It was the first time she’d hear Nisha call her Miss Anderson, and it made her feel odd. She decided she didn’t want to unpack that here and now.

“Hello, Francis,” she said. “You must be new to the school. It’s lovely to have you here.”

The boy, who had refused to take off his coat, attempted to smile, but a tear fell down his cheek instead. Chrissie turned to Dan. “Mr Harvey, we have an urgent case of first day sadness. I think we need to deploy the emergency chocolate spread!”

Nisha threw Chrissie a grateful smile, and for a moment a small grin appeared on Francis’ face. “Chocolate spread is my favourite,” he said, his voice only just above a whisper.

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