Page 76 of Lessons in Life

The woman stared. ‘Over fifty? Goodness, I thought you were one of the school Right-on Rangers that take over the place every morning. Terrifying lot, they are. Mind you, I suppose you could still be one? Apologies – women do have their kids in their forties now, don’t they?’

‘Apparently.’ Lisa pulled a face. ‘I had my first two in my early twenties.’

‘Well, you look bloody good on it. I’d have put you in your early forties; you’ve got some great genes there.’

‘Wish I knew where these genes came from,’ Lisa murmured, staring at her face in the mirror, suddenly feeling strange, confused.

‘Sorry?’ The woman looked confused herself, glancing at Lisa’s Levi-clad bottom. ‘Where they’ve come from? No,’ she laughed, ‘I meant genes not, you know… not your jeans.’

‘I know. I know exactly what you meant. Gosh, I’m sorry. Offloading to a total stranger.’ Lisa attempted a smile but still felt adrift. Here she was, at fifty-four, just beginning to emerge from years of not being able to do the things she wanted. But emerging from what? Who was she? Where had she come from? ‘I don’t know who I am,’ she blurted out. ‘I don’t know any of my history. I don’t know who I am,’ she repeated.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ve upset you.’ The woman put out a hand.

‘No, really, you haven’t. I’m just so cross with myself for leaving it until now to try and find out who I actually am.’ Lisa picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder and smiled at the woman. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Really lovely to talk to you. Thank you.’

* * *

‘Ms Allen? Lisa?’ Lisa looked across at the ‘in’ turnstile as she was making her way towards the ‘out’. For a split second, she couldn’t work out why this incredibly good-looking man would know who she was.

‘Oh, Mr Sattar.’ She flushed, remembering the tirade she’d directed at him just a few days earlier at Hudson House. ‘Hello, how are you?’

‘Good, good, but all the better for seeing you.’ He smiled, and for some strange reason Lisa felt her pulse race. ‘Listen.’ He made his way through the turnstile until he was standing at her side. ‘Have you a minute?’

‘Well, I was just on my way up to Hudson House. There’s such a lot of work to be done in the garden…’ Lisa trailed off. ‘Mind you, not much point, I guess, seeing you’re going to be in there with your bulldozers.’

Ignoring the rebuke, Kamran Sattar said, ‘Do you fancy a coffee?’ He indicated a hand towards the gym’s coffee bar. ‘I’ve a PT session, but it’s not for half an hour.’

‘PT?’ Lisa pulled a face. Hadn’t they done PT at infant school in yellow Aertex and big brown knickers?

‘Personal Trainer.’ Kamran smiled. ‘I’ve been working so hard lately I’ve been neglecting the gym. New year, new resolutions…’

‘New projects for the village?’ Lisa realised that if she could think of Kamran Sattar as the enemy, as the man behind the redevelopment of St Mede’s school and Hudson House and not as this gorgeous man who was making her pulse race, then she could converse with him on his level, find out more about what the Sattar brothers were up to. Arm both Robyn and Jess with information about what was going on in their respective places of work.

‘Thanks, coffee would be great.’ Lisa followed Sattar as he went to the bar. ‘Flat white, please.’

‘So.’ Lisa went straight for the jugular once he sat down, placing a cup in front of her. ‘What are your plans for Hudson House, Mr Sattar?’

‘It’s Kamran.’

‘OK. Kamran. Your plans for Hudson House?’

‘I honestly don’t know yet.’

‘Oh, come on, you don’t honestly expect me to believe that?’

He smiled. ‘OK, OK, I’ve a pretty good idea. I mean, we’d like to buy the place wholesale and then decide.’

‘You’re not prepared to tell me, are you?’

‘No.’ Kamran grinned across at her. ‘I’m curious, Lisa. Why do you have such an interest in the place?’

‘Apart from my daughter losing her job? Apart from the house being lovely and my not wanting to see an aspect of Beddingfield’s industrial history go to the wall in the name of modernisation?’

‘Of jobs for the locals?’ Kamran raised an eye in her direction. When she didn’t reply, he asked, ‘What’s your history, Lisa? I know Jess is your daughter yet you don’t have the Yorkshire accent she has.’

‘Eeh, lad, ah can put one on if yer want.’ Lisa smiled. ‘I was brought up in Surrey but moved to Sheffield when I was nine.’

‘And your background?’

---