Page 25 of Letting Go of Yesterday
No pressure then. It wasn’t that Rowan didn’t have high expectations too, but the school could get an inspection at any time and, given that she was only a few weeks into her headship there hadn’t been time for any radical transformation. The school had been graded as good at the last inspection and she was determined to improve on that, as long as she had time to implement the changes and garner the support she needed from the governors, parents and staff to make them happen. It was why she’d smiled sweetly at former DCI Keith Hounslow and assured him that being graded outstanding was her goal too. Keith’s granddaughter was at the school, and he reminded Rowan of some of the parents at Membory Grange, who radiated entitlement. Some of them had even been known to remind Rowan that they ‘paid her wages’.
There had been lots of upsides to working at a private school, mostly around how freely available resources were and the fact that she didn’t need to manage budgets like a professional juggler to be able to replace broken equipment or recruit an additional staff member. But it hadn’t been as idyllic as it looked from the outside, despite the beautifully manicured grounds of Membory Grange. The environment had been elitist in many senses and being at Port Agnes Primary had reminded her why she’d wanted to go into teaching in the first place. It felt like she could make a real difference to the children there, with the decisions she took and the way she led the school. There was a sense of the school being a hub of the community too, instead of an exclusive enclave, quite apart from the life going on in the nearest towns and villages, as Membory Grange had been. Maybe it had been a metaphor for her own life. Rowan suspected that hers and James’s marriage might have looked idyllic from the outside, but that had been a façade too, such a good one that she hadn’t fully realised it herself until she got out.
Bex’s response to her apology brought her back to the moment, all thoughts of her old life fading into the distance. ‘It’s okay, Henry has maths homework on Thursday evenings and I don’t want to go home until that’s done. I hid in the car park behind the village hall last week working my way through an entire tube of salt and vinegar Pringles while listening to a podcast about mindful eating, until I was sure it would all be over.’ Bex laughed. ‘I cannot watch Matt pushing himself to the edge of a heart attack by shouting over and over again that multiplying a half by another half equals a quarter, and Henry sitting there saying “I just don’t get it. It makes no sense that multiplying something can make it a smaller amount”. Matt got so close to the end of his tether that he snapped a ruler into four pieces to demonstrate, and I think if it hadn’t been the ruler something in his head would have snapped instead. Neither of us are cut out for teaching, but especially maths. I stopped being of any use once they got to about three and it turns my kind, patient, level-headed husband into an unexploded bomb! Your kids are so lucky to have a teacher in the family.’
‘Hmm I’m not sure they’d agree with you on that. Bella told me at the grand old age of six, when I was helping her to write some comprehension sentences, that I was the worst teacher she’d ever had.’ Rowan smiled wryly at the memory. ‘I think when you’ve spent all day dealing with other people’s children the well just runs a bit dry and maths ishard. Henry’s right: a lot of it makes no sense.’
‘I feel better now, although it doesn’t excuse the whole tube of Pringles.’
Rowan laughed. ‘I think we might need a few tubes on standby for after the meeting and a very large glass of wine for when we get home.’
‘I could always fill our coffee cups with something if Keith is going to be there.’ Bex pulled a face, which suddenly softened into a smile. ‘Talking of wine and Pringles, do you fancy coming to watch the half marathon on Saturday with me and Toni? I think Anna’s coming too and we can have a picnic if the weather is good enough. The forecast looks dry and I don’t mind wrapping up in a coat if it means I can sit in a folding chair, drinking wine, eating crisps and feeling like I’m doing my bit by sending a donation to JustGiving from my phone. After all, we can’t all be runners.’
‘We can’t, some of us have got to be in charge of sponsorship. And a wine and Pringles picnic? That sounds like the kind of catering I could cope with.’ Rowan smiled again. At Membory Grange everything was OTT, with parents trying to outdo one another. Even something as simple as having a picnic while their children played cricket would turn into a game of one-upmanship, and it had always been impossible for Rowan to relax. This sounded like far more fun. Although she already knew she wouldn’t be drinking, not when there were parents of her pupils around. The last thing she wanted to give them was anything else to talk about. She’d already overheard a discussion through her open office window about the allegedrealreason she’d come back to the village. Everyone seemed to have their own theory and it would only be a matter of time before someone hit on the right one. But that was a worry for another day, and if anyone could take her mind off things it was Bex, who was outlining exactly how she thought the picnic should go.
‘I might be able to stretch to a sandwich or two, maybe even a sausage roll, but I draw the line at anything that needs a knife and fork. I’ve got one hand for eating and one for holding my wine, sitting comfortably in my folding chair and cheering on Matt and Henry in the main race, and Ollie and Tom in the kids’ race. Nathan has done such a great job of organising everything and there’s going to be an inflatable fun course and barbecue for the kids straight after their race, run by some of the volunteers, so I won’t need to be on full-time mum duty either. Are Bella and Theo doing the race?’
‘Bella and Tiffany have bought matching outfits for the kids’ race, and I think the boys are doing it too and then presenting medals to the runners who finish the half marathon. So I’ll be entirely at a loose end for at least part of the day.’
‘That should give you plenty of time to cheer on the hero of the hour, for organising the whole thing. You and Nathan seem to have been getting along very well just lately.’ Bex gave her a knowing look and Rowan was tempted for a moment to confess that she and Nathan had kissed, and that she really liked him, but that would have been breaking her own rule. She’d had a video call with Odette and Pippa the night before and had confided in them, telling her friends just how different it felt to be kissed by a man who was clearly attracted to her and not just going through the motions.
‘I didn’t know what was missing until I found it,’ was how she’d put it, before pulling herself up sharply, and desperately trying to underplay the situation, after Pippa had responded by saying that a kiss like that sounded ‘potentially life changing’. She and Nathan could never be anything serious and it was the last thing she wanted anyway. The problem was it was just far easier to remember all of that when she wasn’t describing what it felt like to kiss him, which was why she absolutely couldn’t mention it to Bex. Instead, she arranged her face into what she hoped was a neutral expression.
‘Nathan’s such a nice guy and I’m glad you said hero of the hour, because I hope people in Port Agnes see the real him at the half marathon. He’s obviously devoted to Leo and whatever he might have done in the past, I very much doubt he’s that person any more.’ Rowan didn’t miss the twinkle that appeared in Bex’s eyes and she needed to shut that down. ‘But before you get any ideas, we’re just friends. I don’t think Theo would have got through the first part of this term without Leo, and Nathan has been doing as much to encourage their friendship as I have.’
‘They’re such lovely kids, and I’m sorry Theo is still having a bit of a hard time with some of the other boys. I know we’re supposed to think all kids are great, but that Kayden in his class is a nasty piece of work and if I catch him bullying Theo again, he’s going to find all his permission slips for anything fun mysteriously going missing until it’s too late for him to take part.’
‘Lyra has already offered to cast him as the back end of the donkey in this year’s nativity play, with Hunter Welch as the front end.’ Rowan couldn’t help laughing again. Hunter was known for his fascination with toilet humour and, in his world, there was nothing more hysterical than passing wind. ‘Of course we’d never really do that, but it does help to imagine him getting a bit of karma every now and then.’
‘I want to believe in karma.’ The smile had melted off Bex’s face. ‘But when you’ve got a lovely kid like Leo going through all of that, it’s pretty hard to, isn’t it?’
‘It is and it’s also impossible not to fall in love with Leo the moment you meet him.’ Rowan bit her lip. It broke her heart to think that the gorgeous little boy, with the impish grin, who could make her son giggle when he was feeling sad, just by pulling a funny face, might not get to make it to adulthood. All the fears she had for Theo, and even Bella, paled into insignificance when she thought about what Leo and his family were facing. Nathan had told her they’d had to learn to push the fact they were eventually going to lose him to the backs of their minds, and focus on the now, but even that was hard when his condition was progressing in front of their eyes. As the headteacher, Rowan wasn’t supposed to have favourites, but aside from her own children, Leo was hers and she knew he would have been even if he hadn’t been her son’s best friend. He was a lesson in making the most of every day, no matter what it might bring, and she wished there was something she could do that would really make a difference for him.
‘Knock knock.’ A voice behind Rowan made her turn around. It was an older woman with a blonde bob, carrying a huge cake tin. ‘Sorry, Bex, I just wanted to get into the meeting room to get set up.’
‘Oh my God, Gwen, have you made lemon drizzle?’ Bex took the cake tin off the other woman and inhaled the air, answering her own question before Gwen got the chance. ‘You have, haven’t you, it smells divine.’
‘I put extra lemon and sugar on the top just for you, but I might also have left a big bit of eggshell in the slice I’m going to give Keith if he turns up.’ The woman dropped a perfect wink and then turned to Rowan with a smile. ‘Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that in front of the new headteacher. I’m Gwen Jones, treasurer of the PTA. Sorry I missed the last meeting but I was on a belly dancing retreat in Morocco.’
As the woman stuck out her hand and Rowan took it, she tried to work out whether or not she was joking, but Bex saved her from having to guess.
‘This is the woman whose belly dancing classes have given God knows how many women their body confidence back. I know she gave me mine after I had the kids. Not only that, but she delivered them all too, before she retired as a midwife.’ Bex looked over her shoulder. ‘She also has the measure of Keith Hounslow and is the only one who can get him to shut up when he needs to. All of which are reasons why I want to be Gwen Jones when I grow up.’
‘Me too.’ Rowan smiled, already knowing that she was going to like the woman standing in front of her every bit as much as Bex did.
‘Being like me can get you into quite a bit of trouble girls, but it’s lots of fun and it would certainly keep you very busy. Although I’m only volunteering in the hospital shop for fifteen hours a week now.’ Gwen made it sound as if she was taking it easy, but she was clearly involved in lots of different things and Rowan could imagine what an asset she was to the PTA. ‘I fit in as much as I can, but dancing is probably my biggest passion. I know your mum from line dancing actually, Rowan, and she’s no shrinking violet either.’
‘She never has been and I used to find that embarrassing as a kid, but I’m seeing the appeal more and more these days.’ As Rowan spoke she realised it was true, at least to a certain extent. After enduring so much gossip when her parents had split up, she’d actively tried to blend into the background in life, making sensible decisions and the ‘right kind’ of choices, instead of following her heart. Just look where that had got her. Lately a big part of her wanted to be bolder and to say what she meant, and do what she wanted like her mum and Gwen, instead of what everybody else expected her to do. But she was the headteacher of a village primary school that was always going to mean not overstepping the line of what was acceptable, and she had her own kids to think about too. Embarking on a relationship with Nathan was for the version of Rowan who knew she had the right to grab happiness and be part of something that felt real, after so many years of make believe. But keeping it secret was for the version of Rowan she had to be, the one who didn’t want her children to become the topic of everyone’s conversation. She might have a long way to go before she was anything like as authentic as Gwen or her mother, but Rowan Adams was finally coming out from behind Rowan Bellamy’s shadow and she deserved a bit of time in the sun. Even if she and Nathan were the only people who ever knew about it.
* * *
The weather had been perfect for the half marathon. Dry and warmer than average for the time of year, but not so hot that it made the run trickier than it already was. It also meant the kids could make the most of the giant inflatable course on the green behind the row of shops and cottages that flanked the harbour on one side. Rowan and Bex had decided to source their picnic from Mehenick’s Bakery, who had pledged to donate all the profits from the takings that day to Nathan’s fundraiser for research into muscular dystrophy.
‘I didn’t expect you back so quickly. Bobby did brilliantly; was he completely worn out?’ Rowan turned towards Toni, as runners continued streaming past them heading towards the finish line situated just before the mouth of the harbour. The course ran from Port Agnes, around the far edge of the neighbouring village of Port Kara and then back across farmland before dropping down into the village again. The children’s course had been confined to a much shorter 2 km route around the village itself. The adults’ race started an hour after the children’s one and the runners in the full half marathon were just beginning to cross the finish line, one of the first of whom had been Toni’s husband.
‘He’s thrilled that all the training has paid off, but as for being tired, it doesn’t sound like it.’ Toni flopped back into the chair she’d vacated only moments earlier to go and congratulate her husband on finishing in the first ten runners. ‘The reason I’m back so early, is because he’s already headed off to see if he can join in with the kids on the inflatables. I told him Mum and Dad have got it all under control, but I’ve got a feeling he’s really going to check out the barbecue they’re doing for the children too.’
‘I think he’s earned a burger after that.’ Bex handed Toni another drink. ‘And here’s to having husbands who not only race in half marathons, but actually want to spend time with their children.’
