The Learning Curve (28 page)

When her pupils trooped off-stage into the wings, they all hurled themselves into Miss Hobbs’s arms. And she forgot all the PC rules that stated she wasn’t allowed to touch them and made up for a year of caution by hugging them all so fiercely she almost winded them. Miss James always turned a blind eye to such goings-on after the Nativity Play. She felt Jesus would understand.

She always insisted that the teachers appeared out front after the performance to gush with all the proud parents. Usually Nicky loved doing this and then she adored dissecting it with the gang the next day. This year she felt there was little to look forward to. It had long been one of her inspired traditions to hand out goody bags to all the children backstage as soon as they had finished changing. It stopped
them taking two hours to get out of their costumes and ensured that the teachers got home before midnight. This year she was loath to let go of them, such was her terror of what she was about to face in the auditorium tonight. She busied herself giving each child a hearty hug and telling them exactly what was inside their goody bag before handing it over. Then she set to, finishing clearing up the inevitable detritus left by children so eager to bask in the glow of parental pride that they forgot the costume the parents had taken months to make.

As she did so, she wondered idly if Miss James had even noted Rob’s late appearance tonight. Then she wondered if Miss James would ever call her her right-hand woman, as she’d referred to Rob as her right-hand man? And although she’d hated every minute of making the announcements before the performance, she did wonder why Miss James had assumed it should be Rob’s job? For the first time she found herself wondering if Rob was getting the better deal as Joint Deputy. Or, if she was honest with herself, was she just feeling bitter, not because Amanda had finally got Rob, but because Amanda’s glee at doing so was so clearly directed at her?

She was relieved when the noise lessened around her. She hadn’t noticed she was alone until she heard Rob’s voice telling her that she was.

‘Hi,’ she said, not looking up from her tidying.

‘What’s up? You’re missing all the fun out there,’ he said, leaning against the coat pegs and looking down at her as she knelt on the floor picking up stray belongings. ‘I’ve come to look for you. I’ve been asked by three parents where you are,’ he went on. ‘I told them you were powdering your nose.’ He gave her a wink.

‘You
what
?’ she said, looking up at him for the first time, suddenly angry. ‘You didn’t feel like telling them I was clearing up, then?’

He gave an uncertain shrug. ‘It was only a joke.’

‘Really?’ she said. ‘I’ll remember to say that you’re just having a quick shag with another teacher next time Miss James asks where you are, shall I? And then say it’s just a little joke.’

Rob came nearer. ‘Hey, hey, hey,’ he soothed. ‘What’s up?’

She stood up and knocked his hand away. ‘Don’t “hey, hey, hey” me. Telling my pupils’ parents that I’m powdering my nose is a derogatory, unprofessional – and sexist – slur, especially when I had to go on-stage tonight while you were . . . you were –’

‘Hey. Now, listen. We didn’t do anything . . . we were just –’

She exploded. ‘I couldn’t care less if you were doing it doggy style on the puzzle of Southern Europe! Just don’t tarnish my reputation after I’ve had to go out there on-stage to protect yours.’

He chuckled. ‘Crikey, that was funny! You were really nervous, weren’t you?’ he said. ‘I thought you were going to pass out.’

‘Thanks!’ she cried.

‘Don’t worry!’ he said. ‘I don’t think anyone noticed.’

‘Just go away,’ she said and went out front.

She stood at the door leading to the auditorium, trying to get her bearings. When she heard Rob follow behind her, she stepped into the hall, pulling the door shut behind her, hopefully in his face.

She stood there for a while, still holding on to the door handle, trying to spot Ally or Pete. When the door opened behind her, she walked ahead, not quite knowing where she was going. When a grinning Lilith stepped into her path, she stopped to chat to her and Daisy.

While she was doing so, she grew aware of Rob joining them beside her and she steeled herself to maintain a smile on her face. She tried to concentrate on the conversation but found it almost impossible as Amanda also joined them, hovering behind Rob. Lilith, laughing at one of Rob’s jokes, took a tiny step back, possibly even with the intention of stepping nearer to him next time. Amanda stepped quickly into the gap and joined in the laughter.

When Oscar appeared at Nicky’s elbow, she was so glad to see him that she practically flung herself on to the floor to his level and cried on his shoulder. To her embarrassment, her eyes filled. She made do with holding him by the shoulders and telling him how proud she was of him. She became aware of someone standing behind him and looked up to see a similarly moist-eyed Mr Samuels. He looked younger than before.

She stood up again, nodded at him, and let go of Oscar. As she did so, she noticed him put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Her hackles rose.

‘This is my dad.’ Oscar beamed. She smiled at Oscar and then looked back at his father.

She nodded politely. ‘Yes, we’ve met.’

He offered her his hand and she took it. As he shook it, and gushed nonsensically, she noticed that his eyes were bright, his cheeks were flushed, and there was a bruise forming above his left eye.

‘It was wonderful!’ he rushed. ‘Absolutely wonderful. I’ve never been before. I had no idea. Oscar said you wrote most of it. How did you do it? It was so funny! You must be exhausted. I bet you’re glad when the Christmas holidays come round!’ He laughed. ‘Oscar’s loved every minute of it, haven’t you, Osc?’

Oscar nodded happily and leant into his dad.

‘Well, congratulations, anyway!’ finished Mark, releasing her hand.

‘Thank you.’ She smiled. ‘He’s been absolutely fantastic. A star performer.’

She spotted Lilith give Daisy a little wink and turned her attention to the girl. ‘And you, madam, you sang exquisitely too. Quite one of the strongest links.’

Daisy glowed.

‘You spoke very well at the beginning,’ Lilith told Nicky in return.

Nicky grimaced. ‘Oh don’t,’ she said, blushing furiously. ‘I was awful.’

‘Ah yes,’ came in Rob loudly. ‘Our Miss Hobbs is a real little trooper.’

Amanda gave half a laugh at this in agreement, as though this was a shared opinion or a statement they had discussed previously. Nicky ignored them both. She was beginning to pray that Rob and Amanda would leave before Mr Samuels laid into her. When Miss James appeared she almost turned and fled.

‘Aha!’ exclaimed Miss James. ‘I see you’ve all met, then.’

Here it comes, thought Nicky. Have a mince pie and a P45.

‘What do you think of the news, eh?’ asked Miss James, her eyes wide with excitement.

‘Actually,’ said Mark, ‘I haven’t told them yet. I was just about to.’

‘Oh!’ said Miss James. ‘Well, I won’t spoil the surprise! Don’t let me spoil the surprise, will you!’ She winked at Nicky and Rob and then cocked her head in Mark’s direction. Then she turned back to them. ‘You’ll want to keep in his good books!’ She looked back at Mark. ‘Well, go on, then!’ She said. ‘Tell them! I’m in suspenders!’

Mark looked at Oscar. ‘Go on, then!’ he said. ‘Miss James is in suspenders.’

Oscar laughed and then, embracing his father, said, ‘Daddy’s the new school bursar. He’s starting next term. And we’re moving nearer school. And we’re going to walk into school together every morning.’

Nicky stared at Oscar. Then she stared at Mr Samuels. In fact, she was so amazed, she was only slightly aware that the deeply sheepish grin he adopted suited him so well.

‘That’s right.’ His arm was firmly round Oscar as the boy hugged him. ‘Looks like you’ll be seeing a lot more of me in the future, I’m afraid.’

‘Wow!’ exclaimed Amanda and stretched out her hand to him. ‘I’m Amanda. Miss Taylor. I look forward to seeing you at school in the New Year.’

‘Fantastic, mate,’ said Rob, stretching across Amanda and Nicky to shake him firmly by the hand. ‘Absolutely fantastic. And you know what they say? Better late than never. Better late than never, mate.’

Nicky was preparing herself to say something suitably anodyne, but Rob carried on loudly and, feeling thoroughly exhausted, she left them to it.

OSCAR COULDN’T GET
to sleep. He almost did at one point, but then he thought he heard something and he woke up again. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew Father Christmas didn’t exist, but it had definitely sounded like a roof tile dislodging . . .

There it was again! And then something
moved on the landing. It was definitely on the landing. He sat up and called out to his dad, giving him plenty of warning that he was still awake. He didn’t know what he was more afraid of, hearing a stranger on the roof or waking to find his dad standing in the middle of his room clutching a full pillowcase. Both images were so mortifying that he had now tossed and turned for two hours. Had he felt like this last Christmas Eve? He had no idea. In fact, he couldn’t ever remember feeling this weird mix of excitement and dread before. If this was what growing up felt like, he didn’t want to grow up.

He called out again, but there was no reply. He jumped out of bed and hurried to his bedroom door. He opened it slowly, wincing as the bright hall light stung his eyes. There was something so alien about the house at night; like it wasn’t his house any more, and his dad, who inhabited this alien space, was now a stranger. He couldn’t wait till they moved house. He was going to get to choose where the furniture went and was going to be allowed to redecorate his room. And he was going to have his own bathroom. It was a smaller house, so he’d always know where his dad was, but he was going to have a bed that converted into two beds, so he could have loads of sleepovers.

He peered down the stairs.

‘Dad?’

Silence.

‘Dad?’

He opened the door fully.

‘Da-ad!’

Mark appeared on the landing, wearing baggy pyjama bottoms and an attempt at a frown.

‘Hello, young man,’ he said. ‘This is no time for children to be awake. You do realise that if you see Father Christmas, he has to kill you, don’t you?’

‘Da-ad,’ whined Oscar. ‘That’s not funny.’

He padded over to Mark and rested his head on his chest. Mark loved Oscar at night-time. He seemed to regress five years. They stood like that for a while.

‘Come on now,’ Mark whispered eventually, stroking his son’s hair and then gently turning him round and leading him back to bed. Oscar got back under the covers and Mark lay on the edge next to him.

‘What are you looking forward to most about moving?’ he whispered. This was their favourite game. It had helped calm them both while waiting to exchange, and now, in the weeks leading up to completion, they did it just for fun.

And they seemed to be having more fun generally. This had been the best Christmas for years. And it was the first
one since Helen’s death that had made Mark feel he could give Oscar just as good a Christmas without his mother. Or rather, that this Christmas was not going to be saturated with poignancy. He hoped that this feeling lasted through to tomorrow. Truth was, you never knew how you were going to feel on Christmas Day until it arrived.

But this year he felt confident. Relaxed. Dare he say it, he felt happy. Which had made him realise for the first time that, for as long as he could remember, he had not felt happy. Which meant that he had probably been
un
happy. An odd revelation, when you’d assumed you were.

He, Mark Samuels, was happy again.

And then the guilt had come. How could he be happy when Helen was dead?

Then, to his own great surprise, he found a way to deal with this new emotion. Early December came and he visited Helen’s grave. He’d always said he never understood people who did that. The grave was just a deposit box for decaying bones. The spirit of the person was in your heart. In the past, whenever Oscar had wanted to visit, he’d let Lilith or his own mother take him.

Yet this December had seen him visiting her grave with a bunch of wildly extravagant lilies. She’d always loved the lingering aroma of lilies. He’d bought some already blossomed, some still to bloom. Silly, he knew, but it made sense to him.

It had been a beautiful, crisp winter’s day, the air a fresh kiss on his skin, the sun a friend. He had felt Helen was with him. And he got a jolt of simultaneous joy and grief. Their marriage had been stormy and complicated, but there had never been any doubt they’d loved each other. Helen was a
complex woman and a straight-talker, in fact that had probably been what had first attracted him to her. Yes, they’d rowed a lot, mostly about how much time he spent at work, but she’d been a wonderful mother and a fiercely loyal wife. He used to call her a mother lioness, defending her young against everything. He smiled now at the memory. He’d forgotten that.

At the beginning, after she’d died, he’d been inconsolable and had thrown himself into his work even more than he had previously. At first he’d thought that had helped, but he was amazed when, a year later, he’d had a minor nervous collapse and had had to go to see his GP. There he’d discovered that it was quite common for people who repressed their grieving to simply experience it later. He took a fortnight off work – the most he’d ever taken without a holiday booked – and cried all day every day. By the time Oscar came home every afternoon, he’d be spent. But to his amazement, the break did actually help. He went back to work and felt fully awake for the first time since her death. And over the recent years, thanks to his friendship with Lilith – Helen’s best friend – he’d been able to pick up the pieces again.

And now, here he was, actually feeling happy again. It made him feel nostalgic. It wasn’t a constant high, it was just little ups throughout the day. Feeling a sense of optimism as he woke in the mornings. Feeling happy at the thought of his first espresso of the day. Feeling great huge waves of love for his son.