Page 5 of Merrily Ever After
Emily, shivering slightly from the change in temperature from her warm car, made her way to the staffroom, in search of coffee.
The room was empty and while she waited for the kettle to boil, her mind wandered to her dad. She hoped he was keeping warm; when she’d been round to his flat last night, he hadn’t had the fire on, and his hands and feet had been like blocks of ice.
At least he wouldn’t be on his own for long. His carer, Diane, was due to call in at eight o’clock. She’d make him a hot drink and some breakfast, leave him something for lunch and get him comfortable for the day.
Coffee made, Emily slung her bag over her shoulder and set off for the head teacher’s office.
‘Morning, Alison.’ Emily put the drinks down on her boss’s desk and sat down in the visitor’s chair opposite her.
‘Good morning.’ Alison looked up from her laptop. ‘You look adorable. Thanks for the coffee.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Emily replied, wondering ifadorablewas a compliment or not.
She smoothed down the skirt of her green corduroy pinafore dress: a chance find in her favourite vintage shop in Bakewell. She’d customised the outfit by adding new buttons and contrast stitching to the hem and styled it with a Peter Pan-collared shirt. It had looked quirky in the mirror this morning. Now she was wondering if she looked more like a kid on her first day at primary school.
Emily unzipped her bag and took out a stack of papers and her laptop, while Alison drank her coffee. The job was only a year contract, and the way things were, she’d gladly accept a permanent position if she was offered one, so it was important to make a good impression and she knew Alison appreciated her getting in early. It wasn’t always possible. Sometimes her dad refused to let the carer into his flat, and Emily’s number was listed as the emergency contact. The only contact come to that.
Not that being a school secretary was Emily’s dream (she was still working out what was), but it had been the perfect solution to her problem. She’d left her old job as a PA to an international recruitment consultant for this one in September when it became obvious that the only way she was going to be able to combine looking after her dad and earning a living was to have early finishes, weekends without any extra overtime and long holidays. Her old position had been exciting but had demanded more of her than she could give at the moment.
Emily sipped her coffee and slid a pile of letters across the desk for her boss to sign.
‘You’re seeing Robbie Evans’s parents at nine thirty,’ she said, checking the diary. ‘Shall I sit in and take notes?’
‘Not again.’ Alison pulled a face. ‘No need, thanks. There’s no way they can deflect the blame from their darling son this time.’ She opened her drawer and pulled out a long plait of hair which Robbie had liberated from the head of Bethany James during an art lesson yesterday afternoon. ‘Exhibit A. That child is treading a thin line. One more stunt like this and goodbye Robbie. He is out of this academy and will be someone else’s problem.’
Emily didn’t fancy being in the Evans’s shoes. Alison was tall and lean and cut a forbidding figure as she patrolled the corridors. She could silence a crowd of kids simply by standing still and looking down at the pupils from the balcony, arms folded.
A complete contrast to Emily, who was short, blonde and blessed with a mischievous sense of fun and a bulging wardrobe of kooky clothes. All of which made her a hit with the kids but didn’t necessarily garner their respect.
‘What else have we got?’ Alison passed the signed letters across the desk.
‘Mr Rendall wants to see you at eight a.m. tomorrow,’ Emily said, scanning her emails.
‘What nuggets of wisdom is he planning to impart this time, I wonder?’ Alison gave a long-suffering sigh.
‘Something about the parent parking situation, I think.’
The chair of governors was a lovely man in his seventies and loved to talk about his army days and how the world would be a better place if only youngsters had to do a stint in the forces. Unfortunately, for Mr Rendall, Alison liked meetings to be brief and stick to the point.
‘If he’s got a solution to that, I’m all ears,’ Alison said dryly.
‘I could organise a tray of coffee and biscuits and chat to him for a few minutes, let him get his latest anecdote outof the way before you join us?’ Emily suggested. ‘Year nine were doing Christmas baking on Friday, there are still some cinnamon cookies left, I’ll rescue them from the staffroom.’
Alison gave her a look of gratitude. ‘Perfect. You’re a marvel. Christmas baking already? This term is flying, the holidays will be here before we know it.’
‘Indeed.’ Emily’s throat went dry; she didn’t want to think about Christmas just yet. That was the deadline she’d given herself to take action. She intended to use those two weeks away from school to do some proper research and decide what to do about her father. Incidents were happening increasingly often now. She’d get a call from a neighbour or from her father himself. Although, last night, she’d found the phone in the freezer on top of his newspaper. Would it even work properly after that? She should have checked. What if something were to happen? A shudder of fear ran through her.
‘Emily?’ Alison’s concerned voice broke into her thoughts.
‘Sorry,’ she stuttered, refreshing her laptop screen. ‘Talking of Christmas, Wetherley Primary school has invited you to their Festive Concert on—’ Emily stopped mid-sentence at the sound of a polite cough. She turned to see Olivia, the school receptionist, hovering in the open doorway.
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ said Olivia. ‘But there’s a phone call for Emily.’
‘Could you take a message for me please?’ Emily asked, glancing at the time; it was only seven forty-five. She didn’t officially start until eight thirty. ‘I’ll call whoever it is back as soon as I can.’
‘Thanks, Olivia,’ Alison repeated, dismissing her with a smile. ‘You were saying, Emily, the concert?’
Olivia coughed again. ‘Emily, I really think you should take it. It’s the police.’
