Cover Your Eyes (11 page)

The girls came down in their dressing gowns to say goodnight.

‘When can we see the London house?' Dee said.

‘We'll all go at half term,' Conor replied. ‘Come and give me a kiss, now.'

Bridie went to sit on Rowena's lap. ‘Have you got more pictures?'

‘I'll show you tomorrow,' Rowena kissed the top of her head. ‘They're on my phone which is in my bag and I don't want to start explaining what everything is now. You go up with Megan and get to sleep. It's very late for you.'

‘Will we be there in time for Christmas?'

‘I doubt it very much,' said Rowena. ‘We still have to sell this house. There's only Luke Fielden who seems keen at the moment, but it's still on the market and we're advertising it abroad now too, so there may be other takers. Also, we have to wait till the owners of the London house have found somewhere they like. It might take ages. Though I hope it doesn't drag on for months. It's so wearing.'

Wearing,
Eva thought. That's exactly right. That's what I feel: worn. Worn out, too. It's no wonder that the old dreams are coming back. All the old … what could she call them? Visions, perhaps. She'd known, ever since she was seven years old, that Angelika came when things were bad: when she was in trouble, or unhappy and when she did come, it wasn't the sight of her so much as the
idea
that she might swim up through the silver at the back of the mirror and be visible, exactly as she used to be long ago: that was what made Eva cold with horror. That was what had led to a lifetime of making sure that every mirror she was likely to see was covered up, or else hung in such a way as to make it impossible for her to look into it. When Eva was relaxed and happy, Angelika hid away. She was always there – how could she not be? – but when things were going well Eva knew ways of hiding from her; ways of keeping her at bay.

‘If you don't mind,' she said now, standing up, ‘I'll skip coffee and go up to my room. I'm a bit tired.'

‘But it's early, Granny!' Dee said. ‘We're still up. You can't go to bed before we do.'

‘I'm not going to sleep yet,' Eva said. ‘But I do want to have a nice long bath and perhaps read in bed for a while. Goodnight, everyone.'

The girls came to kiss her and she made her way upstairs. Eva wanted to be by herself. All alone. As alone, she told herself, as you can ever be when you know there's something which won't give up; which will never stop following you. When you know that there is someone who won't forgive you. Why should you be forgiven? What Eva had done was the worst thing and she didn't deserve to have sweet dreams. As she went up the stairs, the voices from the kitchen grew fainter and after she'd closed her bedroom door, she could no longer hear anything except the sound of her own breathing.

Yesterday, I'd gone to fetch the girls from school for half term. There was tons of stuff to bring home: left over Hallowe'en cut-out bats and pumpkins that had been up on the classroom wall, even though Hallowe'en was still to come and would fall during half term. Bridie insisted they must be put up in their room for the actual day even though they were a bit curly at the edges. Dee had all her stories in a big folder. I'd brought along a big carrier bag to put everything into and it was overflowing. Tom Shoreley came into the classroom as we were about to leave.

‘Let me help you take that to the car,' he said.

‘We can take it,' said Dee. ‘I can hold one handle and Bridie can hold the other.'

‘Okay, but don't rush. We'll see you out there. I want a word with Megan anyway.'

The girls tottered out carrying the bag and Tom and I followed them. He'd told them not to rush but they seemed to speed up, or else he was hanging back and I slowed my step to keep pace with his.

‘Megan, I wanted to ask you …' He stopped in the corridor and turned to face me. The girls were at the door that led to the playground and had turned back to look at us. ‘Are you coming?'

‘Go on out to the playground and wait for us there,' Tom said. I was glad he'd taken charge because I was feeling confused. I didn't know why, but I definitely wanted to catch up with the girls and get out of school as quickly as I could.

‘I wanted to ask you out for a meal sometime,' Tom said, looking and sounding casual though he was actually blushing as he spoke. ‘The Jewel in the Crown is good if you like Indian. Are you free tomorrow night?'

I don't know how long it was before I answered but I must have gone through all the reasons to say no in my head in a matter of seconds. Mostly they boiled down to one. It was too soon. Was I ready for a date with someone else? Then I said, ‘Thanks, that'd be good. I haven't had an Indian meal since I came to work here.'

‘Great!' He looked relieved. I could see he was wondering about the logistics of picking me up so I took pity on him. ‘Shall I meet you there? You can text me directions. You've got my number, haven't you?'

‘Yes, it's on the class contacts list,' he said. Then he laughed. ‘I would come and pick you up but –' he nodded briefly in Dee's direction – It might be better to meet there, I agree.'

Dee had sometimes asked me about how I liked Mr Shoreley and did I think he'd be a good boyfriend but I was so convincingly uninterested that she soon got bored.

We'd arrived at the car by now. I opened the boot and the girls put the carrier bag into it. Most of the contents spilled out.

‘Never mind,' I said. ‘We'll pick it up when we get home. Say goodbye to Mr Shoreley.'

‘Bye, Mr Shoreley,' they both called out. I got into my seat and said, ‘Bye, Tom,' out of the window. He waved at us as we left. We were only about a minute away from the school when Dee said, ‘You called him Tom, Megan. Does that mean you like him?'

‘Yes, of course I like him. Why not? Don't you?'

‘Not in
that way
,' Dee said.

‘What way?' Bridie asked.

‘In a boyfriend kind of way.'

‘Does Megan like him in a boyfriend kind of way?' Bridie wanted to know.

‘Do you, Megan?' Dee wasn't going to leave it alone. I refused to rise to the bait. ‘No,' I said. ‘Of course I don't. He's your teacher and a very nice man. That's all.'

The girls' questioning subsided after that and they chatted about the coming week the rest of the way home. Did I like him in a boyfriend kind of way? I had no idea. I might have considered him, I suppose, but I'm uncertain about everything. I've become unused to the whole idea of going out. It reminds me of Simon and I try not to think about him. That's hard. Suddenly, when I'm in the middle of something ordinary and boring, I'll remember him and in particular that last ghastly phone call and be filled with a kind of anguish which is three parts a combination of horrified guilt to one part remembered love.

Had I been right to accept Tom's invitation? An Indian meal is an Indian meal but there was a part of me which suspected that a Gobi Aloo Saag could be the beginning of something more intense and I wasn't sure if I was ready for that. But still, I couldn't help feeling pleased and found that I was looking forward to it. I realized that this meant that I was recovering from loving Simon a bit, but even so, I wasn't getting any better at forgetting what I'd done. Simon himself was shrinking, but my guilt seemed to be growing. If I let my mind stray to his phone call, I could almost physically feel a weight of unhappiness settle on me.

Tom was already there at the restaurant when I arrived. I hadn't exactly dressed up for the occasion but thought I ought to wear something a bit smarter than my normal jeans and trainers.

‘Gosh, you look nice,' he said as I sat down, and I could see he meant it. Perhaps, I thought, I ought to wear high heels, tights, and a skirt more often.

‘Thanks,' I said. I thought of adding:
So do you
, but that would've been a bit odd, seeing that he looked exactly like he always did at school.

I'd forgotten how many preliminaries there are, when you're first getting to know someone. When you're infatuated, besotted, then every little detail of their lives is fascinating, but when you're not, it's a bit dull. We went through the biographical stuff. Tom has a mother and father who live in Farnham. A brother who's a doctor in Glasgow. A sister-in-law who works for Specsavers. Two nieces.

‘You're obviously good with children,' I said, dipping a bit of naan bread into the sauce. ‘Is that why you became a teacher?'

‘I suppose so. I just … I don't know. Wandered into it after uni. What about you?'

I pretended to be eating for a little longer than necessary. ‘What about me?' I said smiling. I didn't want to sound hostile to Tom, but I really didn't want to talk about myself.

‘You haven't always wanted to be a nanny, right?'

‘No, it's just for now to help Rowena out. And only till they all go to London. I'd written an article about Eva for
lipstick
. I want to be a journalist. I've always wanted it. A features writer.' As I spoke, it occurred to me that I'd never said those words aloud to anyone. Simon took it for granted and no one else, apart maybe from a careers teacher at school, had ever asked me specifically. I felt sad, suddenly, wondering what I could do to get back to the career I really wanted.

He nodded. ‘Did you like working for a fashion mag?'

‘Yeah. It was great.'

He didn't say anything but the question hovered over the table so I helped him out. I said, ‘I liked it a lot but I had a fight with my boss. I couldn't stay after that.'

He didn't ask any more and we went on to other things. We talked about the sort of things that people on first dates talk about, mapping out what we agreed and disagreed about. Movies, music, books: we went through almost everything and found that we liked a lot of the same stuff. I tried to work out how I felt about this. If someone at a dating agency could see us, I told myself, they'd think:
These two have so much in common
. I looked across the table at Tom and thought about what it would be like to kiss him. Was he the one to make me forget about Simon? I wasn't sure. We'd got round to talking about the sale of Salix House and the move to London.

‘I'm going to take Eva to look at some places next week,' I said. ‘I hate the thought of her having to move at her age. She loves that house.'

‘It's sad,' Tom said, ‘but it must be hard to keep a place like that going. I went there last year, to pick up some things for the Harvest Festival.'

‘Someone's interested in it. A property developer. He might turn it into a small hotel.'

‘But it could be a nice hotel, couldn't it? And when Eva's gone does it make any difference who's got the place or what they do to it? ‘

‘It does. I don't know why I think that, but I do. I'd like it to be someone's home, I suppose.'

Tom shook his head. ‘You'll be going back to get a job in London, will you? After they've all moved?' He looked a bit crestfallen. I said, ‘I don't know what I'll do yet. I'm a bit … well, undecided about everything, to be honest.'

‘You'll be here for the Nativity Play, won't you? I'm auditioning next week. It's on the third and fourth of December, just before the end of term.'

‘I know! Dee and Bridie are so excited. They've told me about it. Are you in charge every year? Is it just you? Or do other teachers muck in as well?'

‘It's a joint effort really. A kind of combination of Carol Concert and a play. All the songs in the play are set to the tune of well-known carols and I see to it that no one has too many words to learn.'

‘Sounds great. And of course I'll be here. I can't imagine they'll be out of Salix House before Christmas, even if they get an offer tomorrow. And if Dee and Bridie get parts, I'll be the one helping them memorize stuff and going over it.'

‘Dee's already lobbying for Mary but just between you and me, I think an angel is more likely. Don't tell her I said so, will you?'

I laughed. ‘Your secret is safe with me.'

He was grinning. ‘So there's still a bit of time?'

‘Time?'

‘For you to be living in Salix House.'

‘Yes,' I said. It was hard not to smile. It was so obvious that what he'd meant was:
a bit of time for us to see each other
. I was flattered and pleased. The period before Simon was so far away from me, so distant from everything I was now, that I'd forgotten how pleasant it was to be admired. How good it was to have someone sitting opposite me who actually fancied me and who even though he didn't make a great fuss about it, didn't try to hide it.

We walked together to the car park.

‘Will you let me pick you up next time?' he said, and in the moment before I answered, he added: ‘There will be a next time, won't there? I really would like to see you again, Megan.'

‘Yes, of course,' I said. ‘I'd like that too.' And as I said it, I found I meant it. I was standing by the door of my car and Tom was standing next to me, waiting to see me off.

‘Megan,' he said and there was no hint of a question in his voice. It was trembling slightly and he put a hand on my left arm and turned me to face him. He didn't say a word but just moved his other hand on to my right shoulder and pulled me closer to him. He kissed me then. I'd been expecting it, but still it took me by surprise. At first, there was a second of uncertainty (
How do you do this?
) but then I kissed him back. I'd remembered how it went. My body hadn't forgotten anything. I wanted to shout out with joy. I thought: Simon hasn't succeeded in squashing me entirely. I stepped back a little and said, ‘Goodnight, Tom. It was a lovely evening.' Then I got into my car, a bit trembly from the shock of being kissed, and also from the sudden feeling I had that here was someone I liked. Someone I could like more, perhaps, given time. I waved at him out of the window as I left the car park and I could see him in my rear-view mirror, looking a bit stunned. I felt a little dazed myself.

I smiled as I drove home and asked myself whether it was possible that this evening was the beginning of a return to happiness; a small step along that path. I told myself:
maybe you're getting over Simon. This proves that you are,
but something else occurred to me almost at once:
You're not allowed to be happy.
That was the very next thought in my head:
good things can't happen to you
. A thin, sleety rain had started to fall and I turned on the windscreen wipers.

I heard my phone beeping in my handbag and I knew it was Tom. I checked his message before getting out of the car.
Can you send me your email address? Thanks! Tom x.

Of course he'd be the sort to punctuate his messages even in a text. I sent him back my address and added my own kiss. It made me smile to think of how he'd interpret that little letter ‘x'; how he'd fantasize about what it meant.

When I got into my bedroom, I texted Jay.
Kissed tonite by kids' teacher. Watcha think of that? Xxxx.

A text arrived in seconds.
Urgent debrief needed. Am Skyping you in five. Jxx.

I laughed and went to turn on my laptop.

*

Tom wrote to me on email every day. I didn't know how I felt about that, but I didn't see anything wrong with ‘talking' to him. His messages were friendly and casual, with nothing in them that others couldn't have read but last night he asked me out again.

Fox and Hounds about 6?
he wrote.
That's walking distance for you. We could eat there and you can have a glass or two of wine if you don't bring your car. I won't bother drinking. It'd be great to see you again. Tom xx.

I agreed to meet him. Dee stared at me when she saw me. ‘You're all dressed up, Megan,' she said. ‘Are you going out? We're going to Mandy's house for trick or treating. Daddy's taking us. Granny's made us witches' hats and cloaks.'

‘I'm only going down to the Fox and Hounds for a drink and a snack. And I'm not dressed up, either. Trousers and a shirt isn't dressed up.'

‘It is if you wear jeans and a T-shirt every day. Who're you going with?'

‘Don't be so nosey,' said Bridie, who'd joined in the conversation.

‘Can't help it. I
am
nosey. Is it someone secret?'

‘No, not really,' I replied. ‘It's Mr Shoreley.'

Dee squeaked. ‘Are you going to be his girlfriend? You are, aren't you?'

‘No,' I said, quite truthfully. ‘I'm not. We're going to have a drink and a sandwich. That's it.'