Possibly the reason she had been so haphazard with the chisel was because she had come home from work in such a foul mood.

She’d guessed that Nathan had been impressed with her lesson because he had taken so long to give her his feedback; it would take him a while to be able to think of a target for improvement. He would never admit he couldn’t think of one.

Eventually, he’d invited her into his centre of operations and proffered a chair. ‘Sorry it has taken me so long to feed back to you. I’m sure you can appreciate how busy I am. There’s a lot for me to do around here. You know what a mammoth task we have on our hands.’

Not too busy to pop into my classroom every other day, Rory wanted to say. ‘That’s fine.’

Nathan consulted the paperwork in front of him. ‘Well, I was very impressed with your lesson, as you can imagine. Obviously, there is always room for improvement, but I will commend you on your ability as a teacher. I am aware that the group you have are not the most able pupils in the school, and you have engaged them well.’

Of course she’d shown him an outstanding lesson; she had staged it, for goodness sake. There was no way he could have done any better. ‘Thank you. What suggestions did you have in mind for improving it?’

Nathan sat back in his leather executive chair and pressed his fingertips together. Clearly, he’d been looking forward to this. ‘Firstly, I think the task you chose lends itself to group work. Which made me realise that, whenever I happen to be passing your room, I have not seen you undertaking group work with that class.’ He pushed a sheet towards her. ‘You could use my sheet which gives each pupil in the group a different role. It’s very effective.’

Rory laughed. Then stopped. He wasn’t joking. And the sheet he was showing her had come straight from a teaching resources website: she’d seen it on there a few weeks ago. ‘You can’t be serious. You’ve met them. How on earth would they manage a group work task without getting side-tracked by last night’s EastEnders or who is fighting whom after school that day?’ She had only recently learned when it was appropriate to use ‘whom’, and she could bet a week’s wages that Nathan wouldn’t know. Small victories. ‘The only way to ensure that they are engaged in their learning is to let them have a desk to themselves, which is why we always work that way. They prefer it; I’ve asked them.’ Aha! He couldn’t argue with the power of pupil voice.

Nathan sidestepped and continued. ‘I also noticed that you didn’t seem to have a system for your questioning. I wondered whether pupils might benefit from a more strategic style. For example…’ He opened a drawer and brought out a neatly bound set of lolly sticks. ‘I have used this method very effectively myself in the past. You can write each pupil’s name on a stick and then pull it out at random. That way they don’t know who will be asked, and they all have to listen attentively in case it’s them.’

Lolly sticks? This wasn’t his idea either – it was from a TV programme about ‘super teachers’ that had been on last summer. Did he have any original strategies? ‘But if I use this random method, how will I ensure that the questions are tailored to the pupils?

Nathan wasn’t conceding defeat. ‘Just some ideas for you to consider. I am happy to grade the lesson as outstanding nonetheless, and I think that we should find a way for you to share your expertise with others in your department and, indeed, the whole school.’

The whole school? Was he suggesting promotion? ‘Thanks.’

‘As one of our most highly rated teachers, I was hoping that you would be happy to represent the school for us at an evening event which is coming up shortly.’ He picked up an invitation from his desk. ‘I believe it’s an event honouring local community leaders.’

Rory’s heart sank. She hated events like that, but what could she say? At least it would be a free night out with wine. Maybe she could persuade Susie to come with her; the school was usually given two tickets to things like this. ‘Of course. Can I invite another member of staff to accompany me?’

Nathan frowned. ‘I think you misunderstood, Rory. You will be coming as my guest.’

---

When she got home, Rory threw her bags into the hallway and didn’t even bother to go in and speak to Belle and her mum. She was looking for a fight and, in the circumstances, those stubborn bathroom tiles would have to be her chosen opponent.

Which was how she had ended up flat on her back with them standing over her.

‘You’re going to have to give her the kiss of life, John.’ Was that her mother’s voice?

‘With all due respect, Mrs Anderson, I don’t think that’s necessary.’ John?

‘She’s waking up. Mum? Mum? Are you okay?’ That was Belle.

Rory opened her eyes. Their three faces were directly above hers. What had happened? How had she got here? She tried to push herself up from the floor, although it was a little difficult with them all bending over her. Ouch!

John put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Slowly, slowly.’

‘Do you think she’ll need to go to hospital?’ Belle was wringing her hands. ‘She’s not keen on hospitals.’

‘I am here, you know.’ Rory put her hands on the floor to push herself up. ‘Ouch!’ It was her finger. There was a nasty gash running the length of it. Her head swam.

‘Put her head between her legs.’ Sheila was in mother hen mode. ‘She’s always been like this with blood. When she was about twelve she came with me when I donated blood at the church hall and she passed out from just being in the next room. I was halfway through giving my pint when a nurse came in waving Aurora’s scarf and asking if anyone knew the girl it belonged to.’

For god’s sake, Rory had heard this story a thousand times. No way was John taking her to the hospital. It was mortifying. She could look after herself. She just needed the facts. Could they hear her with her face between her knees? ‘What did I do?’

‘We believe you were trying to take the tiles off the bathroom wall with a chisel.’ John bent down beside her again. He reapplied the cloth that Sheila had been holding onto her finger. ‘I think you might need a couple of stitches in that.’

Sheila seemed overjoyed at this information. ‘I think you should take her straight there, John. Otherwise she might lose too much blood. She’s always been prone to anaemia.’ Rory didn’t want to call her mother a liar in front of a relative stranger, but she knew for a fact that she was not prone to anything of the sort. ‘The women in our family are very delicate.’ Was Sheila flirting with him?

Rory raised her head. ‘No, John doesn’t need to take me. I can get a taxi. Belle can come with me.’

Belle glanced at her grandmother and backed away. ‘Sorry, Mum, I can’t. I’ve promised to help Fiona with her maths homework. It’s due tomorrow.’ Traitor.

‘Then you can come with me, Mum.’

‘You know, I’ve come over a bit strange myself at the sight of all that blood.’ Sheila held a theatrical hand to her temple. ‘I think I’m going to need to sit here quietly for a while.’ In case she hadn’t made herself completely and utterly obvious, she added, ‘And you can’t possibly go on your own; it’d be dangerous.’

Rory’s would not be the only blood spilt that evening. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll call Susie or Penny. One of them will meet me at the hospital.’

‘Stop being ridiculous.’ John sounded impatient. ‘Belle, can you get your mum a coat?’

Rory gritted her teeth and avoided looking at the huge smirk that she knew would be on her mother’s face.

---

This was only the third time Rory had been in John’s van and last time she was a little worse for wear. ‘I’m so sorry about all that. My mum thinks she’s being subtle.’

John smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’m used to it.’ What did that mean? Had her mum said something before or did he mean that old ladies were always trying to fix him up with their daughters?

‘Really?’

John nodded. ‘There’s something about being a single man of a certain age that everyone wants to fix you up with their friend or daughter or mother.’

‘That sounds like a twist on a Jane Austen novel.’

‘It’s true. Even more so when they realise that you’ve never been married and don’t have any children. Plus, I’ve got all my own teeth.’ Without taking his eyes from the road, he turned the bottom half of his face towards Rory and grinned widely to prove his point.

She laughed and relaxed. ‘It’s not just men of certain age, you know. My mum has been trying to fix me up since I split with Belle’s dad. Apparently, you must be part of a couple to be happy. My friends are no better. Susie is insufferable on the subject. I hoped that she’d quieten down once she met someone but she’s been worse.’ Susie couldn’t believe that Rory wasn’t upset that both she and Penny had met someone. At least she wasn’t dragging her to any more awful singles’ nights. But her latest endeavour was trying to persuade Rory to come on a double date with her man and his friend. Rory could just imagine what he would be like.

‘For some reason, they don’t want to accept that you’re more than happy being on your own.’ John tapped the steering wheel as he spoke.

Rory nodded. ‘Exactly.’

‘That you do not want to meet someone and settle down.’

‘Absolutely.’ At least that’s how she had felt.

‘That you are completely content with being single and have no plans to let someone into your life. Ever.’

‘Hear, hear.’ Did she sound convincing? Because she didn’t feel it. Never seemed a very definite decision.

But John sounded sure. Very sure.