Page 25 of Still Falling for You

He nods, but I read his disappointment. That is until his attention lands on the incriminating note that I stupidly left on the desk in plain sight.

His eyes widen a fraction before he nods. I don’t like the look he gives me before he leaves. It’s not unkind per se, but there’s a definite edge to it that makes me nervous.

I have no doubt this will spread around the school like wildfire. There’s no limiting damage. I’ve learnt over the last five years in education the best way forward is pretending ignorance. As Queen Elizabeth I would say, ‘I observe and remain silent.’

11

All the way to Catherine’s house, I think of Alex. It was muchsafer when he was a hostile and inconsiderate arsehat, but discovering that under the veneer of a robot is a human being after all, is unnerving. The possibility of Alex being capable of feeling pity and shame raises my own shame and guilt. It makes me hate him even more.

I arrive at Catherine and Richard’s house at ten past six. Their house is a 1960s red-brick semi with two tight parking spaces, one of which is currently empty for me to tuck into. All the lights are on, and heavy curtains are drawn over upstairs windows to block the bedrooms’ view onto the residential road crammed with identical houses.

A part of me wonders whether I should feel discontented with life because I don’t have any of this. A house, a husband and a kid, but when I visualise myself in that alternative reality, I can’t quite see myself there or the man next to me. Even when I was with Aaron and things were good, I didn’t really see us in that future. As much as I’m reluctant to admit it, maybe Aaron was right, and I never gave it my all.

Now, his future is going to look a lot like this, but I won’t be in it. With surprise, I realise that for the first time, it doesn’t hurt. There’s no feeling of betrayal or anger – only relief.

I ring the bell, but instead of Catherine, little Gabby opens the door and immediately jumps into my embrace; I’m the mangrove to her spider monkey. She mumblesAuntieas she detaches herself from me, leaving red-berry stains in the shape of her tiny fingers all over my top. But I’m prepared, and everything I’m wearing is shabby and threadbare, including me.

‘Where’s your mummy?’ I follow her in, hand in hand. Her skin feels warm and sticky as she pulls me in after her.

I abandon all my bags on the floor with a thud and breathe a sigh of relief. I’ve brought some games and sleepover stuff. Because it would be too late to travel home after, we agreed I’d go to work straight from here.

I can’t count how many times I’ve stayed in the tiny spareroom overnight. If there’s anything like a home away from home, for the last five years it’s been this house. It’s the place where the three of us, Catherine, Lydia and I, put the world to rights when it seems like it’s falling apart around us. It’s the place I stayed when I found Aaron cheating on me and where Lydia spent a week drinking schnapps and eating Cadbury’s Creme Eggs after her mum died. It feels grounding and uncomplicated compared to my childhood home.

Catherine, rushing from the master bedroom and buttoning her white shirt while closely avoiding Gabby with the ease of an inflatable stick figure, breaks my train of thought. I laugh, and she rolls her eyes, but there’s a serious glint in her look that worries me. I watch as she pecks her daughter on the forehead.

‘Can I show Auntie Bing?’ Gabby asks with poorly disguised hope on her face, and it gets me all over again how much it was great being a kid. All the decisions were made for you, and all you cared about was showing off your favourite toys.

‘Only after you wash your jammy fingers, munchkin,’ I say and pinch her cheek. She rushes off to the kitchen after Catherine nods.

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Catherine’s dark eyes are too big in her face, like she’s been close to tears this entire time.

‘Hey, what are childless friends for,’ I joke.

‘Holly, I’m so sorry if I upset you earlier.’ She breaks the playful atmosphere.

I interrupt her before she gets into it. I’ve been rehearsing this all the way to her house to make it sound at least semi-convincing. ‘You were right. I don’t know the person Alex has become, and people do change. I’ve certainly changed since I was seventeen. It’s alright.’

She squeezes my hand gently. Sometimes, she’s so sensitive, and I love her even more in that moment.

‘I hope I haven’t spoilt your plans for tonight.’ She bites her lip as she rummages through her bag abandoned on the closestsofa. She takes her purse and a lip balm out of it before she carries on rifling through it.

‘Actually, you were a great excuse to say no to drinks with John and some of the other teachers.’ I admit. ‘I needed to clear my mind anyway.’

She stops going through her belongings for a second and gives me a knowing smile. ‘How was your lunch?’ The grin her face spreads into looks lighter.

She swipes all the stuff on the armrest of the sofa into another bag before resolutely zipping it close. My lips twitch, she’s never been a particularly organised or tidy person.

Shrugging, I park myself on one of the comfy armchairs. ‘Predictable. The sandwich tasted of lies and deceit, the muffin had a hint of self-importance, and the juice was spiked with ill manners. You are what you eat, after all. Or buy what you are in this case.’

Now she has nothing to do, her eyes bore into me with an unblinking directness that forces me to add reluctantly, ‘I must admit it tasted OK. He even got me my favourite sandwich which even my mother gets wrong most of the time. I find it extremely frustrating.’ I sound like a petulant child, but I can’t help it.

‘BLT on seeded bread, no mayo?’ She pauses before she angles her head towards the small footsteps thudding upstairs. Then, her attention falls back on me.

‘That’s…’ she starts, but she must spot the red flags manically waving in my eyes because she restrains herself.

I draw my knees up, wrapping my arms around them in a protective cage. ‘Don’t say that’s nice. I know your default is to always be kind to people and see the best in them. Don’t get me wrong, I love that about you, but I don’t think I can cope withAlexandnicein the same sentence yet. Or ever. He was really awful to me in the toilet, so he bought me lunch to redeem himself, or maybe he just didn’t want me going snitching to Janethat he was unprofessional. Who knows. So now, we’re even-steven. What happened in the past stays in the past. There’ll be no more drama between us. No moreWaterloo Road.’

She nods knowingly but can’t help herself and adds, ‘Somehow, I get the feeling Alex and you aren’t finished yet. The past sometimes has a way of leaking into the present.’

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