The Learning Curve (42 page)

She twirled round in the full-length hall mirror, and straightened the seam at the back of her new stockings. She could hardly apply her lipstick, her hand was shaking so much. When the doorbell suddenly buzzed, she had to start again because she felt the clown mouth ruined the overall look. She made her way carefully down the stairs in her heels and opened the door to Claire. She had begged Claire to come. Claire’s car was bigger than hers which would give them room to take all the raffle prizes. She’d have asked Ally but she lived on the other side of the school, and anyway, Ally just turning up was a major step. With a lift from her sister, Nicky had the perfect excuse not to accept a lift from Rob. And Claire could provide much-needed, unconditional, sisterly moral support.

‘Bloody hell!’ cried Claire, when she saw her. ‘You’re wearing that?’

‘Why?’ Nicky froze.

‘Um . . . nothing.’

Nicky glanced at her watch. She didn’t have time to change.

‘Well, thanks for your support,’ she mumbled, going back up the stairs. ‘I feel drunk on high self-esteem now.’ She thrust a cuddly dog the size of a pony into her sister’s arms. ‘Come on. There’s loads to do. We’ll do it in two trips.’

A quarter of an hour later, they were ready to go.

‘You do look lovely,’ said Claire, as she started the car. ‘I –’

‘Just drive,’ said Nicky.

‘No, really,’ said Claire. ‘It was just –’

‘I don’t want to hear it.’

‘Will you stop interrupting me! It was just that
I
felt
underdressed because I didn’t realise it was a posh do.’

‘It’s not a posh do!’ wailed Nicky. ‘I’m ridiculously overdressed.’

‘But it looks good.’

‘Stop talking and drive.’

After Claire got lost, making them late, Nicky seriously considered going back home and telling everyone tomorrow that she’d completely forgotten to come because she’d been so traumatised by the latest plot twist in
Emmerdale.
It felt marginally less excruciating than turning up late to an evening she’d helped organise, wearing a dead cow.

As Claire parked, Nicky tried to open the door, but the child-lock was on. She watched helplessly as parents walked past the car, up the path.

‘Oh good,’ mumbled Claire, unlocking the doors, ‘I won’t be the only one in jeans.’

Nicky tried to get out of the car quickly (not easy in her outfit), making do with slamming the door very heavily.

Guests had only just started arriving, but all the staff were there. One dinner lady was placing the regulation green cups and saucers plus jumbo packs of custard creams on trolleys in the corner of the hall for the half-time refreshment break, the other was hefting vast bottles of lemonade, water, what looked like hundreds of bottles of cheap wine, plus paper cups into the middle of each table. The quizmasters – parents of a Year 3 child, who did charity quizzes for a hobby (and were nearing divorce, partly due to doing charity quizzes for a hobby) – were seated on the podium at the front of the hall, arguing volubly over the microphone system. Amanda and Mark were chatting in the far corner. Nicky squinted at them, questioning what he’d told her about his thoughts of
Amanda, before looking away fast. Ally and Pete were sitting on one of the tables with Martha and her boyfriend. Rob was walking slowly round the hall, next to Miss James, hands clasped behind his back like a visiting dignitary.

Hoping that Miss James wouldn’t spot her arriving this late, Nicky hurried her collection of raffle prizes over to the podium, then made her way over to the dinner ladies to thank them for getting there so promptly. Then she caught Mark’s eye over the top of Amanda’s head, and he gave her a wide, open smile. Amanda turned round to see who he was smiling at. Mark gave the nod and, together, they approached Nicky and Claire. Miss James and Rob were approaching from the other side of the hall and they all met in the middle. Nicky tried to wear the expression of someone who had been there for the past hour.

‘Nicky!’ cried Amanda, running the last bit of the way towards her. ‘You made it! Excellent! Now we’re all here.’ She took both her hands in hers and, arms outstretched, looked her up and down. ‘Wow! Look at
you
. Boy oh boy. I can see why you were this late! Very, very sexy. I didn’t know you wore leather. But if it makes you look that amazing, to hell with having a conscience!’

Nicky felt anything but amazing, with her arms stuck in the air, and tried fruitlessly to pull her hands out of Amanda’s. She had to introduce Claire to them all with her arms still up. They remembered Claire from when she’d been in observing the teachers’ assistants and conversation was easy. After Amanda finally dropped her hands, Nicky decided to go and sit down.

‘Bloody hell,’ whispered Claire, following behind.

‘What?’ muttered Nicky.

‘She’s a bitch, isn’t she?’ said Claire. ‘Why does she hate you so much?’

Nicky stared at the centre of the table, seeing nothing, her head buzzing. Soon everyone else from their team had joined them. Nicky was seated between Miss James and Claire. Rob was on the other side of Miss James. Amanda was on his other side. Mark sat next to Claire. Then came Ned, his wife, Ally and Pete, and Martha and her boyfriend.

Ally and Pete were in their most scornful and sarcastic moods. Martha was in a foul mood. This put her boyfriend in an even fouler mood. Ned was nervous. This made his wife even more nervous. Rob was ebullient. Amanda was more ebullient. Mark was tense. Nicky was even more tense.

‘Isn’t this
fun
?’ squealed Miss James, pouring wine into everyone’s paper cups.

They nodded and, almost as one, downed their drinks. The microphone suddenly roared with feedback, announcing the quizmaster. ‘Er, hello, everyone,’ he began, and then laughed a nervous laugh. ‘Can you hear me at the back?’

‘NO!’ shouted everyone at the back.

Nicky thought she might actually kill someone before the evening was out.

‘Er, welcome to Heatheringdown’s table quiz,’ said the quizmaster, and then laughed a nervous laugh, which was already getting on Nicky’s nerves. ‘Er, first of all, I must tell you something that, over the years, my wife and I have learnt that one ignores at one’s peril.’ He laughed again.

The hall buzzed with anticipation.

‘Er, you will notice,’ he continued, ‘that there is a big bottle of lemonade in the middle of your table.’ He laughed once more.

There was a murmur of suppressed excitement.

‘Er, you must, I repeat,
must
, open this slowly,’ said the quizmaster gravely. No laugh. ‘Otherwise, er, you will be drenched.’ He laughed.

Everyone waited for the punchline.

‘Now,’ he began, with a laugh. ‘Er, here are the rules for tonight’s quiz . . .’

In exactly the same way that there is only really one winner on every team of four in
University Challenge
and three lucky members of his or her team, there proved to be only really one winner on Table number 10. And no one was more surprised than Martha to discover that it was her boyfriend. The others made valiant attempts and occasional lucky guesses, but he was an encyclopaedia of quiz knowledge. Meanwhile, Nicky was trying to ignore Rob’s fixed gaze on her and hoping that Mark was able to as well.

During the half-time refreshment break, Mark stood up. ‘Who wants to help me and Nicky sell the raffle tickets?’ he asked.

There was silence. Miss James looked round the table.

BANG! went a bottle of lemonade behind them, followed by the rowdy hysterics of a drunk, and now soaked, table.

‘
Perfect
way to show off that fantastic skirt.’ Amanda smiled up at Nicky. ‘No point wasting it sitting down.’

‘You can say that again,’ winked Rob. Nicky stood up, somewhat unsteadily, thanks to two paper cups of cheap wine, and saw Rob and Amanda lean forward to chat to Miss James. Of course. There was no way they were going to waste this opportunity to bend her ear. She looked at Ally and Pete, but they were busy badly refilling their cups and doing Bagpuss impressions. She caught up with Mark, which
was quite a feat in her outfit. He gave her an enormous smile. He had had four cups of wine.

‘How do you think it’s all going?’ he asked. ‘And the quiz?’ They both laughed, though in truth Nicky wasn’t exactly sure why.

‘Fabulous,’ she said, sincerely. ‘Well done.’

‘Well done to you too,’ he replied. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Well,’ said Nicky, ‘obviously I’m really glad I wore this skirt, otherwise I don’t know what Amanda would have got her claws into all evening.’

Mark laughed. ‘She’s just jealous,’ he said.

She gave him a look. He returned it.

‘What of?’ she asked bravely.

‘Where shall I start?’ he said softly. Nicky’s knees turned to foam. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘See you back at the table. I want every single one of those tickets sold. Or else . . .’

‘Or else?’ Nicky smiled.

He gave her a look up and down and her insides obediently followed it. ‘Where shall I start?’ he repeated, even softer this time, before walking away.

She turned, all wobbly, and went in the opposite direction, feeling attached to him by elastic. Or that might have been the drink.

To her surprise, she enjoyed selling the tickets. Or rather, she was happy while she was doing it. Until the end.

‘What are the prizes?’ asked one of the fathers, his jacket drenched with lemonade.

She gave him her best smile. ‘They only cost one pound,’ she said.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘What are the prizes?’

‘A meal for two at the fantastic local Chinese restaurant,
a colour television, a cuddly toy, an Xbox, a bottle of champagne and a very nice box of very nice chocolates.’

‘What make?’

‘Um. Godiva.’

‘The colour television, what make?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Oh.’

‘But the chocolates are Godiva.’

There was a pause. With a big sigh, he found a pound coin in his pocket.

‘Go on, then,’ he sighed. ‘It’s for a good cause.’

She smiled, thanked him from the bottom of her heart and hoped with all of it that his table wouldn’t win.

When she sat down at her table again, it didn’t take long to work out that everyone had been conscientiously finishing the wine. Rob had just gone round the table pouring the last of it into their cups. Conversation stopped abruptly at her return and a table of red faces smiled blurrily up at her. There was an awkward pause.

Nicky sat down heavily. ‘If I don’t win the cuddly dog,’ she said, ‘I want my money back.’

Amanda’s laughter was louder than everyone else’s and she finished with a sighed ‘Oh dear, oh dear’, as if she’d laughed so much her sides were aching.

BANG! went another bottle of lemonade and Table 4 was drenched. More raucous hysteria.

After the quiz ended, all the parents left, some drenched, most drunk, some carrying raffle prizes, and some all three. Nicky counted up the ticket money, Mark made his goodbyes to both of the quizmasters, who hadn’t talked to each other since Round 6, and the dinner ladies
tidied everything up. Meanwhile Rob and Amanda, who seemed suddenly distinctly sober, kept Miss James amused.

Ally came and sat down next to Nicky. She was carrying the cuddly dog, which was the size of a pony.

‘I’m thinking of calling him Pete,’ she said, punching him on the nose. ‘Are you all right?’

Nicky grunted. ‘I suppose it could be worse.’

‘Yeah, you’re right.’

‘You think?’ rushed Nicky. ‘How?’

‘Um. You could have got lemonade all over you?’

Nicky tried to smile.

‘Or won this fluffy dog and have to go home on the night bus.’

‘Oh dear.’ Nicky looked at Ally. ‘You’re going to get killed.’

‘I’m so glad you talked me into coming.’

‘I’ll ask Claire to give you a lift home,’ said Nicky.

‘No, it’s all right,’ said Ally. ‘I’m kidding. Rob’s just offered to give us all a lift home.’

‘Has he? That was nice of him.’

‘In front of Miss James.’

‘Wanker.’

‘I know,’ agreed Ally. ‘Utter creep.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I said yes, of course.’

‘Of course. Make him go via Watford.’

They turned to Claire as she joined them. She was carrying the Godiva chocolates. Ally made Claire kiss Pete the dog before making her goodbyes. Claire sat down next to Nicky and opened the chocolates.

‘God, look at Rob and Amanda,’ hissed Nicky, taking a
chocolate. ‘You’d think they were the President and First Lady, wouldn’t you?’

‘I know,’ said Claire, chewing a toffee. ‘You certainly get the feeling that he’s the Headmaster-in-waiting.’

Nicky stared at her sister.

‘Have you any idea what being supportive actually means?’ she asked.

Claire tutted. ‘I don’t mean Miss James feels that he is, I mean he acts like he is.’

Nicky sighed. ‘Tell me what the hell they’d been saying about me while I was doing the raffle tickets,’ she ordered.

‘I’ll tell you in the car.’

‘No. Tell me now, so I can do damage limitation before I leave, and actually sleep tonight.’

Claire sighed before taking another chocolate. ‘Amanda said what a lovely couple you and Mark would make.’

Nicky’s eyes doubled in size. She turned to look at Amanda just as Amanda burst into laughter at something Miss James had just said.

‘Don’t worry, it totally backfired,’ said Clare, ‘because then Ned started saying how lovely you were and his wife agreed and they said they couldn’t understand why you weren’t married.’

Nicky stared at Claire.

‘So,’ Claire went on, ‘Martha said you were probably too much of a career woman and men were intimidated by that. And then Amanda said that she bet you’d give it all up in a trice, as soon as you had a family. You were one of those women and everyone knew you were desperate for kids. And it was all bound to happen soon because Mark and you were so keen on each other. She bet money on you being
pregnant within the year and giving up the rat-race to become a full-time mum within two. Then Ally started saying that you could easily juggle both, and Pete agreed and said that you’d make a very good juggler, though it probably wouldn’t be ideal to start with babies, especially your own.’