The Learning Curve (34 page)

As Nicky glanced round the room, she thought she could
almost hear excited ova whooshing down Fallopian tubes.

Mark reached Miss James’s side at the front of the room. His mouth hinted at a shy smile. The silence intensified.

‘Now,’ confided Miss James, ‘the more observant among you will have noticed that I am Not Alone this morning.’

Hearty laughter rang out in the staffroom; a laughter that told Mark loud and clear that he didn’t have to be mad to work here, but by George, it helped. Miss James put a motherly hand on his arm and squeezed it. He smiled at her. Several of the weaker ova fainted.

‘This is Mark Samuels,’ announced Miss James proudly. ‘Some of you will know him simply as Oscar Samuels’ father . . .’

There was utter silence compounded by many blank faces. Had a pin dropped, people would have jumped. Nicky was pleased to see that at least Mark had the decency to look embarrassed.

‘. . . and some of you, I believe, met him at Gwen’s wonderful New Year Eve’s party.’

A couple of people nodded a hello to him.

‘But for the rest of you,’ continued Miss James, ‘you are meeting Heatheringdown’s new bursar.’

There was a murmur of surprised approval from most. And from those who had met him before, there was a murmur of unsurprised approval. Miss James suddenly launched into raucous applause. Everyone joined in. As it died down, she continued.

‘I am absolutely delighted to welcome Mark to Heatheringdown,’ she said. ‘He comes fresh from a top City firm of accountants, where he was one of the youngest partners.’ There was a gasp of female admiration. ‘And he
will be bringing all his financial genius, wisdom and experience to us here at Heatheringdown.’

Nicky wasn’t sure if Mark’s increasing look of panic was from the expectations being laid out before him or the determined devotion in the eyes of most of the female staff.

‘His first job,’ went on Miss James, ‘will be to come up with some fantastic fundraising plans for us. So if anyone has any ideas they want to put to him, you know where his office is. His door will always be open, isn’t that right, Mark?’

‘Absolutely,’ he said firmly.

‘Then,’ continued Miss James, ‘he will be putting that fantastic mathematical brain of his to work on our ever-depressing budget, so that Heatheringdown continues to be the top state school in the area. Now. Do any of my trusty team of top teachers in the borough have any questions?’

After a moment’s pause, Amanda put her hand up and her chest out.

‘Hi there, Mark.’ She smiled.

‘Hi.’ He smiled back.

‘I’m Amanda – Miss Taylor – and I teach Year 4. We met at the Nativity Play. And the party.’

‘Yes, I remember.’ A hint of a blush highlighted his cheekbones. ‘Hi there, Amanda.’

Smiles all round. Nicky remembered the mistletoe kiss and stared at Amanda in some awe.

‘You may find my question slightly impertinent,’ Amanda went on, ‘but –’

‘Ooh!’ said Miss James. ‘How exciting.’

More laughter. This was a totally mad morning.

‘Well,’ Amanda said, smiling, ‘I should imagine this is the question on everyone’s lips . . .’

Nicky wondered if she was about to propose.

‘. . . um,’ continued Amanda, ‘it’s just that I’m fascinated . . . what on earth made you leave the bustling City life for our humble, little, albeit excellent, school?’

There was a Mexican wave of nodding.

‘Good question!’ cried Miss James. ‘Go to the top of the class!’

Mark leant against the table behind him and rested one hand on its edge. He slowly ran the other hand through his sunlit-sand hair while his full, though masculine, lips slid into a modest smile, accentuating his firm jawline. Several menopausal symptoms reversed.

‘We-ell,’ he began. ‘It’s funny you should ask that question, because I actually have one of you to thank for that.’

Silence.

‘You see,’ he continued, ‘thanks to the observations of your very own Miss Hobbs at Parents’ Evening, I went on to make one of the biggest decisions of my life.’

All eyes turned briefly to Nicky. Nicky blinked.

‘It was Miss Hobbs’s highly perceptive comments about Oscar that made me realise,’ he went on, ‘that I wanted – and needed – to spend more quality time with my boy. Yes, City firms pay well, but in return they want your life, so you miss the fundamental, important things. Hopefully, with this job, I can put my training and experience to excellent use, as well as see my boy grow up.’

Had there been a scientist in the room this would have been a Eureka moment. The room was experiencing a monumental rise in fertility. One of the teachers opened a window.

Miss James gave a little clap. ‘So, Nicky! We have you to thank for our new addition!’

‘Well,
I
certainly have her to thank,’ answered Mark modestly. ‘Whether
you
guys do is something we have yet to find out. I am new to the world of schools, but I promise you all, I’m a fast learner. And as Miss James said, all advice will be most welcome.’ He smiled out at his audience.

‘Did you have any idea about this, my dear?’ Miss James asked across the room to Nicky.

‘No,’ she said. ‘None at all.’

‘And now that you do,’ twinkled Miss James, ‘do you have anything to add to this confession?’

‘Yes.’ Nicky smiled. ‘If he’s not any good, I never saw him before in my life.’

There was an explosion of laughter, followed by applause. This was an extraordinary morning in an extraordinary place.

After the applause died down, Amanda sat upright in her chair all pert and polite.

‘Well, either way,’ she beamed, waiting for all eyes to return to her before continuing, ‘thank you, Mark, for answering my question so honestly.’

Another smile flashed from Mark. ‘My pleasure,’ he said softly.

Nicky glanced at Rob, who was staring intently at a speck of dirt on his trouser leg.

The bell rang for assembly and Nicky gathered her belongings and her wits together. Could this be the same man she had rowed with at Parents’ Evening? She stood up and looked over to where Mark was standing. Only the top of his head was visible. A crowd of women had gathered
around this marvel of manhood to welcome him into their world and into their hearts; for here was a man who wanted to spend more time with his child and had cheekbones you could slice cheese with. He was more than a man, he was a phenomenon. Just wait till they find out he’s a widower, thought Nicky. There won’t be a dry seat in the house.

She did not begrudge them their admiration. Had he been a beautiful female he would now be swamped by male teachers. It was only biology. But it did make her feel less inclined to join the throng of extras, when she had, a while ago, daydreamed about being the female lead. She glanced again at his growing circle of admirers. Just a teensy-weensy part of her wished that they had seen him pre-Parents’ Evening. And a slightly bigger part of her considered being the one to paint that picture for them.

Nonetheless, he had just given her the best reference she’d ever had – and in public, in front of all her peers and her boss. For that, and that alone, he deserved a big thank you. Just not now.

She sat down again, pulled her hair back into its regulation assembly ponytail and slipped on her glasses. When she stood up again, Ally was by her side and Rob by hers. They caught up with Pete and it almost felt like old times again as they ambled to assembly together.

‘Please, Miss Hobbs,’ joked Pete. ‘Can I touch your hem?’

‘No,’ said Nicky. ‘But you may lick my shoes.’

‘What do you think of our new bursar?’ Ally asked her, ignoring him. ‘Eight out of ten?’

Nicky smiled. ‘Oh easily,’ she said. ‘Nine possibly.’

Ally nodded. ‘Yeah. I think you’re right.’

Pete tutted. ‘That is so offensive.’

‘And crap,’ muttered Rob. ‘He’s a complete tosser. Did you notice how he had to get in a mention of his big pay packet?’

‘Oh yes!’ gasped Ally. ‘I noticed that. When he leant back against the desk.’

‘Me too!’ giggled Nicky. ‘Ten out of ten.’

It was lunch-time before Nicky had a chance to speak to Mark properly and to thank him. As soon as she’d eaten, she hot-footed it to his office, giving a fearless knock on his door. The door opened slowly and Amanda appeared in front of her.

‘Oh!’ cried Amanda. ‘It’s the perceptive one herself!’ She opened the door a fraction wider and welcomed Nicky into Mark’s office. As Mark had moved his desk to the other side of the room, Nicky was now facing a wall.

‘Oh no, it’s OK,’ she said, stepping back quickly. ‘I can come back another time. It wasn’t important –’

‘Don’t be silly!’ cried Amanda, taking her by the arm. ‘We were only having a quick chat. Weren’t we, Mark?’

Mark was now standing beside Amanda. When he ushered Nicky in, she saw why it had taken him so long to appear. The tiny office was full of packing boxes yet to be emptied. He had clearly had a bigger office in the City.

Amanda propped herself up against the window-ledge, where she casually picked imaginary bits of fluff off her blouse while giving a running commentary of Mark’s ideas for his office.

Mark and Nicky stood opposite each other. She noticed that his cheeks were seriously flushed. He had either just lugged a heavy box across the office or given Amanda an energetic seeing-to. She remembered Oscar’s au pair. Then
she pictured Mark and Amanda spreadeagled on his desk. Then she had visions of Mark going through the female staff like a dog out of a trap.

Gosh, it was hot in here. Meanwhile, Mark’s flush was haemorrhaging down his neck. He was turning puce in front of her eyes. Nicky noticed how pungent Amanda’s perfume was. She looked out of the tiny window and watched the clouds race by.

‘It’s not much of a view,’ said Amanda, following her gaze, ‘but at least it’s a bit of light.’ Then she stepped across the office and perched on the edge of Mark’s desk.

‘I thought we could set up a brain-storming meeting for fundraising ideas,’ she announced. ‘In a pub. One evening. What do you think, Nicky? Good idea?’ Nicky opened her mouth to answer. ‘Mark?’ asked Amanda, turning away from her.

‘Yes, great idea,’ replied Mark, nodding to Nicky. ‘It would be a nice way to get to know everyone properly, too.’

Nicky wondered who would babysit Oscar. ‘Or,’ she said, ‘we could ask the children to come up with some ideas. It’s their school. And they’re usually really imaginative.’

‘Oh yes! Of course!’ said Mark. ‘Brilliant. Of course.’

Amanda laughed. ‘I don’t think they allow children in pubs, Nicky,’ she said. ‘I’ll put together a few dates and see if there’s any interest in the staffroom. In fact, we could do that now, couldn’t we, Nicky?’ She hopped off Mark’s desk. ‘Or did you want . . . a little private tête-à-tête, just the two of you?’

‘No, no, it’s fine,’ said Nicky. ‘I’ll come with you.’

‘Hold on!’ laughed Mark. ‘Did you want a word, um, Miss Hobbs, Nicky?’

‘Um . . .’

‘Amanda.’ Mark looked over Nicky’s head to Amanda. ‘If you don’t mind . . .’

‘Of course not!’ sang Amanda gaily. ‘I’ll get those dates together. Cheerybye.’

Nicky tried to smile. She turned back to Mark. He looked at her with an expectant smile.

‘Hello,’ he said.

Nicky was almost fazed. The word seemed so personal, somehow.

‘Um, I just wanted to say,’ she began softly, ‘how much I regret my outburst to you at Parents’ Evening.’

Mark stopped smiling.

‘It was,’ she continued, her head down, ‘unforgivable and highly unprofessional of me, and, I can assure you, completely out of character.’

There was a pause. She was just wondering how she could turn this into a thank-you for his performance this morning, when he spoke.

‘Ri-ight,’ he said slowly. ‘I see.’ There was silence. ‘Well, thank you for that. But,’ he said quickly, ‘I don’t regret it at all.’

She gave him a questioning look.

‘And,’ he spoke quickly, ‘it’s me who should be apologising.’

‘Oh?’

‘It wasn’t long before I grew absolutely appalled by what I’d said to you that night. Having met you, I now know that I was so utterly and completely wrong.’

She decided now was the moment to say her piece, albeit much more softly than she’d ever practised.

‘For the record,’ she said, her eyes wide and direct, ‘I don’t mother my pupils. I teach them.’

‘And, for the record,’ he joined in, with a smile, ‘I have always loved my son. I just hadn’t realised the best way to show it.’

There was a knock on the door and Amanda popped her head round it.

‘I’ve got three possible dates, so get your diary out, Mark!’ she said.

Nicky smiled at him, able to ignore Amanda now that she was happy again.

‘And I wanted to thank you for that brilliant job reference you gave me this morning. That was very generous of you.’

He gave her a serious look. ‘All true.’

That night she decided to break with tradition. She was not going to do any homework. She deserved a night off. Not only that, she would give herself a home-spa evening – complete with hot, aromatherapy bath followed by face-pack and
EastEnders
. Possibly a packet of Maltesers. As she walked out of the school and across the playground, she was struck by how warm the air was. Her shoulders dropped.

When she got home, she walked straight to her bedroom, dropped her clothes where she stood and climbed into bed. Within seconds she was asleep, so she didn’t hear the answerphone message from Claire an hour later, who, coincidentally, was also breaking with tradition.

NICKY DIDN’T HEAR
Claire’s message until the following evening. When she did, she played it again, then turned off the radio, sat down in the silence and played it once more. She smiled the sort of smile that only happens when you’re on your own; almost invisible to the naked eye but great big clanging bells inside.

She picked up the phone to return the call and then, just for the hell of it, played it again. If she’d had a technical mind, she’d have turned it into her mobile ring-tone.

‘Hi there,’
came Claire’s voice, loud and clear. ‘Hope you’re OK. Just wanted to . . . well, ask for some help really. Could you call me?’