Page 98 of Lessons in Life

‘Yes, every day. He’s been up before I’m awake, off down the M62 to miss the Leeds and Manchester traffic in order to work on Joel’s case with her.’

‘And she’s gorgeous?’

‘Yep!’

‘His family like her?’

‘Adore her.’

‘Does Fabian know about Mason?’

My back was to Petra as I sorted what amounted to a pile of fusty-smelling rags in the cupboard, and I swung round to face her.

‘What about Mason?’ I asked, my cheeks burning.

‘That you had a fling with him within a few weeks of starting here.’

‘You knew?’

‘Of course I knew, Robyn. And, if you say this ex of Fabian’s is gorgeous, that he sees her every dayandthathe knows about Mason into the bargain…’ she paused somewhat theatrically, a hand to her seven-month-pregnant belly ‘…then yes, I’d say you were well and truly skating on thin ice. Particularly if you’re acting like a spoilt adolescent, sulking when he gets home, determined to punish him for having a life before he met you, giving him the cold shoulder, turning away from him in bed. In that case, you’re doing nothing but encouraging him back intoherbed.’

‘Don’t see how,’ I muttered, knowing she was right. ‘Oh, Petra, you just have to look at her to see why she’d win any race with the two of us in it.’

‘So, one, why did they split up in the first place? And two, why didn’t he go back to this Alexandra goddess when you and he were no longer together in London?’ Petra looked at her watch. ‘You’ve exactly one minute before the bell goes for afternoon lessons.’

‘OK!’ I started. ‘One, apparently, she had a fling with a work colleague, and two, I can’t get him to admit whether he did start seeing her again when they both ended up here in Yorkshire. Probably because we’re not really speaking except for polite conversation. You know: “have you finished in the bathroom? I’m not sure there’s any milk for your Shreddies” sort of thing.’

‘That gorgeous man of yours eats Shreddies?’ Petra pulled a face.

I tutted. ‘You know what I’m saying. And he did.’

‘Did what? Eat Shreddies? Or go back to her when you were doing what you did with our headmaster?’

‘Fabian didn’t know that at the time.’

‘How d’you know he didn’t?’

‘I just do. Mason somehow let it slip when the two of them first met that he and I had been… you know…’

‘Shagging?’

‘For a deputy headteacher you don’t half have an arsenal of bad language.’ I scowled. ‘An item.That’s what I was about to say. Mason and I had becomefriendsand then become what’s known in polite society asan item!’

Petra was silent for a few seconds, her thought process interrupted by the raucous ringing of St Mede’s bell. ‘OK,’ she said, putting two hands to her swollen abdomen. ‘Close your ears, baby.’ She nodded in my direction. ‘Yep, Robyn, I’d say you were well and truly fucked.’

* * *

I needed to see Fabian, needed to tell him that once again I was acting like an immature moron rather than the grown-up adult I actually was. I needed to tell him that, even though his family might not think I was good enough for him, even though Gillian and Julius Carrington wanted Fabian heading back to London and down the aisle with Alexandra, I was ready to fight for him. For us.

‘I’m ready to fight for us, ready to fight for what we’ve had, what we’ve got and what we may have in the future.’ I practised saying the words out loud in my form room after 9CL had dashed out, desperate to start their weekend, trying out the sentence over and over again, placing emphasis on different words.

‘Ready tofight… ready to fight forus…’

‘’Ey up, miss, who you getting into a scrap with? D’you need any help?’ Whippety Snicket, aka Blane Higson, was behind me as I articulated the words.

‘Sorry?’ I whirled round. ‘Oh, Blane.’

‘I’ll help you sort ’em, miss.’ Blane was in a jaunty mood, brand-new, gleaming white trainers, laced up à la mode of all fourteen-year-olds, on his feet.

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