Page 54 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I got us a sweet treat to help encourage the blood flow,” said Chrissie.

Nisha looked down at her phone without replying. She seemed to have forgotten their earlier conversation about teacher training.

“I was thinking we should do the Christmas market sometime this week,” said Chrissie, trying to bring Nisha out of her funk.

“Yeah, why not,” Nisha replied, looking up briefly, before poking her flapjack with her index finger.

“What’s up?” asked Chrissie, finally, not sure she could pretend any longer that Nisha’s demeanour hadn’t completely changed.

“Sorry,” said Nisha. “I just wasn’t expecting that call.”

“I can tell that,” said Chrissie, “but what was it? If it’s ok to ask, that is. I don’t want to pry, but you look a bit shell-shocked.”

“I guess I am.” Nisha took a sip of her tea. “It was Jake.”

Chrissie’s eyebrows almost leapt off her head. “Jake. Your ex?” Her mind was racing, not so much because he’d called, more because of Nisha’s complete change in mood.

“Yes,” Nisha replied.

“I didn’t think you were in touch with him,” said Chrissie.

“I wasn’t, you’re right. But recently, since you and me happened, I felt I owed him a bit of an apology. I ran out on him – as you know, a bit of a habit of mine,” said Nisha.

“You told him you were sorry you left him?” said Chrissie, feeling fingers of fear begin to creep into her brain.

“Sort of,” said Nisha. Then she looked up and saw Chrissie’s concerned face. “No,” she added, “not like that. Our split was a joint decision. I wasn’t apologising for that.”

“Ok, so tell me what’s happened now,” said Chrissie, trying to hang on to her breath, her balance, her centre.

“I emailed him a few weeks ago to say I was sorry I’d left London without sorting things out properly. That was wrong of me. The relationship was over, but I didn’t handle the difficult stuff well, and, as you know, I ran to Birmingham.” Nisha took a small bite of her flapjack, clearly still mulling something over.

“And he called you?” asked Chrissie, keen to understand what was happening here.

“Yes, he did. And given I was the one who’d emailed him, when I saw his name on the phone, I knew I had to answer. When I first left London, I ignored his calls, and eventually he just gave up calling,” said Nisha. “He was calling to say thanks for apologising.”

“Well, I guess that’s good,” said Chrissie, trying to be adult and reasonable and not dissolve into a pool of jealousy.

“Yes, I think so,” Nisha agreed. “But he also had something else to say. He was letting me know that the head teacher at the school I used to teach at with him has left unexpectedly, and they’re looking for someone to act as head for the next twelve months. Given the school is in a challenging area, with children with all sorts of complex needs, they want someone who’s already familiar with it. He’s deputy at the moment, and he’s been asked to approach me by the Chair of the Board of Governors, to see if I’d be willing to act as head teacher from January.”

Chapter Fifty

Chrissie’s phone buzzed by the side of her bed. It was ten on a Sunday morning. Normally she would have gone to yoga, but after yesterday’s revelation from Nisha, she’d prioritised sleep in the hope things would feel better today.

She opened her eyes. Things did not feel better. The conversation the previous day had jarred with everything she had begun to assume about their relationship. Nisha was contemplating moving back to London for a year. It was a professional opportunity that might be too good to miss. Chrissie’s eyes roamed the artexed ceiling above her. Nisha had suggested she could go with her. It didn’t feel right, somehow, following her girlfriend back to her old life.

Chrissie didn’t think Nisha was getting back together with Jake, but the thought of her returning to that school felt wrong. And Chrissie had a life here in Birmingham, one she had fought hard to build. And it wasn’t just that. She was so close to taking her own steps towards becoming a qualified teacher.

“You could do that in London, at my school,” said Nisha, grabbing Chrissie’s hand across the table in the café when she had raised the point.

“And leave everything I’ve created for myself here?” said Chrissie. “I don’t know whether I can. And you don’t even know if there will be a training position at the school in London.”

“I’d be head, though,” said Nisha, her eyes shining. “I could make it happen.”

“No,” said Chrissie, firmly. “Absolutely not. I am not being given a free pass because my girlfriend’s the head teacher. I won’t do that.” She pressed her mouth together in a straight line.

“Yes, sorry,” agreed Nisha, immediately apologetic. “I knew that sounded wrong the moment it came out of my mouth. No, of course I wouldn’t do that.” She sighed. “But there could be an opportunity at another school nearby.”

“But the thing is,” said Chrissie, “I need to own my own space here, and I need to do the right things for me. If I chase you to London for this opportunity, where would you go next? Back to Birmingham after that year? What if they gave you the job permanently? I can’t hang onto your coat tails.” Her stomach churned as she said words she knew might change their relationship irretrievably, but at the same time, she knew it was true: she had to hang onto herself and what she needed.

---