The New Neighbours (32 page)

“Then I suggest she transfers to the technical college as soon as she can. I'm afraid there is no place in this school for unmarried teenage mothers.”

Stung by this, Angela almost snapped, “What about married ones?” but she bit the words back, the last thing she wanted was to antagonise the woman. She said nothing.

Mrs Harman sat back in her chair and studied them for a moment across her desk before she went on, “This school maintains certain standards. I know it's not fashionable these days to have high standards of morality, but we at Belcaster High do not bow to fashion. I'm afraid there is no longer a place for Annabel here, she must leave us today. I will arrange for all her work to be sent on to you, with her assessments so far. I think you are lucky in that the technical college follows the same syllabus as we do for most subjects, so the transfer should not be too difficult.”

“I see.” It was Angela's turn to be icy. She had been hoping that Mrs Harman would be able to keep Annabel at the school until Christmas at any rate, and then be persuaded to have her back in February, after the baby was born, but clearly the headmistress was not entertaining the idea.

“And now of course,” Mrs Harman continued, “there is the question of Chantal.”

“Chantal?” Angela was startled.

“I'm prepared to keep her on for the moment,” Mrs Harman said, “it would be a pity to move her just as she's starting her GCSE course.”

“I don't see this has anything to do with Chantal,” began Angela angrily. “Why should she be penalised for a mistake her sister has made?”

“I was only thinking of the child herself, the embarrassment she may face in the circumstances,” replied the head smoothly.

There won't be any embarrassment unless it comes from you, thought Angela hotly, but again she managed to bite back the words. She didn't want to have to take Chantal away from the school as well, for the only alternative for her would be Crosshills Comprehensive, and Angela didn't want her to go there.

“I am happy to keep Chantal,” Mrs Harman was saying, “provided, of course, that she maintains the standards we expect.”

“I will discuss it with my husband,” Angela said with all the dignity she could muster, “and we'll let you know what we decide.” She got to her feet, and facing the headmistress across the desk said quietly, “I'm sorry you feel unable to stand by one of your pupils when she is in trouble, Mrs Harman. But as you can't, I'd be grateful if you could indeed send on all Annabel's work with any reports and assessments that have already been done, so that I can pass them over to the technical college. Good morning.” Annabel got up too, and together they walked out of the office. As they reached the door, Mrs Harman's secretary arrived with the coffee tray.

“I'm so sorry to have troubled you,” Angela said to her, “but I'm afraid we haven't time to stay for coffee. Good morning to you.”

“Mum, you were brilliant,” Annabel said as they walked to the car.

“I didn't feel brilliant,” Angela said. “I'm still shaking. Let's go and find a cup of coffee somewhere else and decide what to do next.”

They found a little café off the High Street and carried their cups to a table in a corner.

“Well, you seem to have left school,” said Angela as they sat down. “We'd better go and see the people at the technical college. You realise that this may mean you can't do the exams this summer after all, don't you? If you have to change syllabuses or examining boards or something.”

“I know. I'm sorry, Mum.”

Angela smiled ruefully. “We'll manage something,” she said. “I just wish I'd been able to tell that Harman woman that Chantal was leaving as from today too, then she'd have lost two lots of fees! Stupid cow!”

“Mother!” Annabel exclaimed in surprise.

“ ‘We at Belcaster High do not bow to fashion,' ” Angela mimicked the headmistress's prissy voice, and they both laughed. “But I can tell you this, Annabel, if there'd been anywhere else to send her apart from Crosshills, I'd have removed Chantal today. Still that's not your problem, I'll discuss it with Dad. And you must talk to Dad this weekend as well,” her mother added.

“Yes, I will, I promise,” Annabel said. “I'll ring him this evening and arrange to see him.” She looked across at her mother, and noticed for the first time the tired rings round her eyes and the drawn gauntness of her face and reaching out took hold of her hands. “Thank you, Mum, for standing by me.”

Angela returned her grasp and said quietly, “What else did you think I'd do, darling? Try not to worry, we'll see it through together.” She downed her coffee. “Now, come on, we have to go to the tech, and see what they say.”

“What happens if they won't have me either?” wondered Annabel.

“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it,” replied Angela, “but I'm sure they will.”

She had been right. That part of the arranging had been comparatively easy. The courses she was already studying were also being offered by the tech, and though some of the work they had covered she hadn't and the other way around, the tutors were confident that she would be ready to take the exams in the summer provided she worked hard. She was to start immediately, and arrived for her first lecture the next morning.

Telling her father had not been easy either. As she promised, she rang him that same evening and arranged to meet him. She hadn't seen him for ages, still angry with him for leaving she hadn't wanted to, but when he heard her voice on the phone he sounded very glad to hear from her.

“Polly, what a lovely surprise!” His use of his private name for her caught at her heart and she realised how much she had missed him. Tears pricked her eyes and she said, “Can we meet up, Dad, at the weekend? Saturday perhaps?”

“It would be lovely to see you, pet,” he said. “We'll have a pub lunch and catch up on everything. Just you, or is Chantal coming too?”

“Just me I'm afraid, Dad. I wanted to discuss something with you.”

She hesitated. “Can it be just us, Dad? Not Desirée too? It's sort of private.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed cheerfully. “She's away this weekend anyway. Shall we meet in the George and Dragon?”

“Yes, fine, or I could come round to your flat.” Annabel wasn't at all sure she wanted to tell Dad about the baby in a public place. She felt the need for privacy.”

“No, no,” he said hastily, “the pub would be far better. I'll be there from about twelve. See you then, pet.”

“See you, Dad,” answered Annabel, but her father had already rung off.

When Annabel got to the George and Dragon on Saturday, it was full of cheerful lunchtime drinkers. She pushed her way through the crowd to where her father was standing at the bar.

“Hi Dad.”

“Polly!” His face lit up at the sight of her and he gathered her into a bear-like hug, before holding her away from him to look into her face. “Let me look at you. It's great to see you. What do you want to drink, pet?”

“Orange juice and lemonade please,” replied Annabel.

“Nothing stronger?” He was surprised. She usually drank lager, but when she shook her head he ordered the orange juice and lemonade and then said, “I've booked a table in the back bar for quarter to one. It always gets crowded in here on a Saturday and I wanted to be sure we could sit down.” He handed her her drink, “Cheers,” he said and took a pull at his own pint.

Annabel was determined she wasn't going to say anything about the baby until they were safely sitting down in the comparative quiet of the back bar, and she was relieved that Dad didn't ask her straight out why she'd wanted to see him. He waited for her to speak.

“Chantal sends her love,” she began

Her father smiled. “Does she? That's nice. How is she?”

“Oh, very excited. There is a house full of students at number seven, you know Ned Short's old house…” and to pass the time until they could sit down, she launched into an account of the goings-on in the Circle ending with a description of Madge's ninetieth barbecue.

“She really is an amazing old biddy,” Ian said. “Hope I'm as good as that when I'm ninety.” A silence fell, enclosing them in a bubble from the hubbub of noise about them, and then Ian asked casually, “How's your mum?”

“She's fine,” Annabel said. “Busy, you know, working full-time.”

“Still seeing that chap, what's he called…David?”

Angela was not seeing David, or anyone else for that matter, but Annabel was feeling very protective of her mother just now and she decided that Mum's pride must be protected. “Yes, he's around all the time,” she lied. “Seems very keen.”

“Do you like him?” asked Ian. “You and Chantal?”

“Yes, he's great fun.” Feeling she had said enough and not wanting to get drawn too deeply into a web of lies, she said, “Are we going to eat soon, I'm starving?”

Ian glanced at his watch. “Yes, let's go through.”

When they were settled at the table and had ordered their food, Ian looked across at Annabel and said encouragingly, “Well, Polly, this is a treat.”

Annabel decided it was now or never, so she said, “Dad, I've got something to tell you. I'm sorry to spring it on you, but there's no other way. I'm pregnant.”

Her father put down his glass and looked across at her for a long moment before saying quietly, “Oh Polly, what have you done?”

Annabel felt the tears in her eyes and blinked hard. “I'm sorry, Dad,” she whispered. “I didn't mean it to happen.”

“No, I'm sure you didn't,” he said dryly. “When's it due?”

“End of January.”

“So you're going to have it, then?”

Annabel nodded dumbly, hating the look of disappointment in her father's eyes.

“And keep it? Or have it adopted?”

“I want to keep it, Dad. I don't want to give it away.”

“And what does your mother say?”

“Mum says we'll cope somehow, between us.”

“And who's the father? What about him? What does he say?”

At that moment the food came, and while the waitress put the plates on the table, brought them sauces and warned them that the plates were very hot, Annabel had time to phrase her answer.

When they were alone again, she said, “It was a man I met, went around with for a while. It only happened once and then…”

“He dumped you?” Ian fought to control the anger in his voice.

“Not really, he… well, he moved away. I don't know where he is and he doesn't know about the baby.”

Ian looked at her sternly. “Then we must trace him, tell him what's going on. What's his name?”

Annabel lowered her eyes and simply shook her head.

“For God's sake, Annabel,” her father exploded. “It's no good just shaking your head. We have to have his name. He has to be told.”

“Why?” cried Annabel. “Why does he have to know? He has nothing to do with it.”

“Nothing to do with it,” repeated Ian incredulously, “it took two of you to start this baby… it's his baby too you know, quite apart from his responsibilities towards it, he's entitled to know. He'll have to contribute towards its keep, it's not just your baby, Annabel, it's his as well.”

It was not the reaction Annabel had been expecting from her father and tears finally flooded down her cheeks. Over the months, she had felt herself hardening towards Scott, even though he seemed to have protected her from the police. She wished she'd never met him and genuinely didn't want anything more to do with him. She'd never thought of the baby as Scott's baby, it was hers, and she never wanted to see Scott again.

The room was filling up round them and seeing her distress, Ian pushed his plate away untouched. “I'm not hungry, are you?”

Annabel shook her head miserably.

“Come on, then,” he said, “let's get out of here. We'll go back to the flat where we can discuss this properly and in private.”

He paid for the uneaten food and marched out to the car park. They drove in silence to the flat where he now lived and let themselves in.

“We'll have to eat something,” he said. “I'll heat up some soup and we'll have it with bread and cheese.”

While he was in the kitchen, Annabel went the bathroom. When she came to wash her hands, she noticed that only her father's washing things were beside the basin. One toothbrush hung in the rack, his shaving kit was on the shelf with the toothpaste, but there was nothing of Desirée's. Before, there had been rows of pots and bottles, all her lotions and potions, deodorant, talc, make-up remover and other creams; now there was nothing. There was only one towel on the rail and her bathrobe was no longer hanging on the back of the door.

Of course, she's away for the weekend, Annabel suddenly remembered, drying her hands, Dad said so.

When they had drunk their soup and eaten some bread and cheese, Ian asked quietly, “What does Mum say about the baby?”

“She's been great,” Annabel said. “She's upset, of course, but she hasn't really said so. She's been helping me to get things sorted out,” and Annabel went on to tell him about Belcaster High and the Tech. Ian was less surprised at Mrs Harman's reaction than Angela had been.

“Of course she can't keep you there,” he said. “How would she explain it to the other girls and their parents? I just hope she doesn't take it out on Chantal and make her life hell.”

“Mum said she'd move her today if there was anywhere else but Crosshills to send her.”

“Hmmm, well we'll have to give that some thought,” Ian mused. “However, in the meantime I think we must all get together and have a proper conference on what's going to happen. I mean about when the baby's born. We have to consider all the options, and it's a decision that we all have to be in on, as it affects us all. I'll give Mum a ring and arrange a time to discuss things, OK?”