Chapter Three
Cerrie
‘My life, girl, what I wouldn't give to be you right now. Cosying up with Mr Thor himself? Now that’s what I call extra-curricular activities!’
Jo has been raving about the new teacher back in my classroom for a full five minutes, but I’m trying my hardest to zone her out. The more I think about it, the more annoyed I am. Gloria never gets involved in the Christmas play – neither does anyone else for that matter. I’ve become accustomed to being the only person driving it every year but actually I like it that way. I plan the spectacular months in advance and it’s a point of pride to make it better each year. But now a new teacher arrives and suddenly Gloria is in charge of appointing people for my play? I don’t think so!
‘. . . And did you see David’s face when Thor sat next to him? Talk about seething!’ She pauses long enough to peer at me. ‘Oh, come on, Cerrie. You have to admit that was fun?’
‘What was fun about it? Gloria totally railroaded me.’
‘With an Adonis. I’ve worked with the woman fifteen years and she’s never once tried to shove a gorgeous young man on me in the name of work . . . Hang on, you’re serious, aren’t you?’ She stares at me as if I’ve just confessed I don’t like breathing. ‘Sweetheart, this is a good thing. You’re always saying how little help you get with the Christmas shows.’
‘I don’t mean it!’ I know how daft this sounds, but it’s the truth. ‘Everybody moans about work. It’s just . . . what humans do when we’ve had a frustrating day. Just letting off steam. But I love doing the plays. I love writing the music. And I love performing it, too. The kids are used to seeing me directing them from behind a piano. This is going to totally throw them.’
‘Sweetheart . . .’
I hold up my hands. ‘I know. It’s irrational. But if I can be so easily replaced, what does that mean for everything else in my job? This is the one thing that’s just mine. Everything else . . .’
‘. . . Has to be shared with other people. Or could be taken away from you altogether. Like David.’
‘No. Not like him.’
‘I think that’s what this really is. He never liked you doing the play – and I saw him trying to give you a sympathetic smile when Gloria said Tom was going to be involved. You think he’s going to use this to get you back on side.’
I flop down onto one of the low blue tables. ‘Jo, it was mortifying. I felt like he was trying to make a public show of reaching out to me, just because everyone else was watching.’
‘Trust me, kid, nobody was watching what David Myers was doing once the new guy walked into the room. That’s what he’ll hate about all this. And he’s so into himself that he probably thought you didn’t like Thor, either.’
‘I don’t want any help with the Christmas play. I don’t need it. I’m sure Tom is a decent bloke, but I can do it by myself.’
‘But he’s Thor . . .’
I stare at my friend. ‘Personally, I prefer Captain America.’
‘Erm, excuse me? Muscles, long-flowing hair, hammer . . .’
I shrug. ‘Muscles, cheeky grin, lovely big shield . . .’
‘Goody two-shoes compared to a blimmin’ Norse god . . .’
Our long-time favourite superhero argument feels like a welcome old friend as for a moment Jo is totally side-tracked.
‘I’m just saying, not everyone wants a big, blond, hammer-wielding god for a boyfriend.’
‘Clearly, you have no taste.’
‘Look at it this way, Jo: Thor can be all yours.’
‘Somehow I doubt my Pete would be happy if I brought him home. Although maybe if I just kept him in my cupboard at school . . .’ She frowns at me. ‘I digress. You have to see this as a good thing. Tom isn’t pushing you out; he’s another pair of hands to help you make the play an even bigger success. Less workload for you, time with someone who doesn’t know your entire dating history like everyone else here does, and lots of opportunities to lust over that body . . .’
‘Maybe you should join us working on the play and then you could lust over him all you like.’ It’s an easy point to score. I love Jo, but she is the queen of excuses when it comes to volunteering.
‘Well, I would but, you know, with Pete and the dogs and his mother – I just can’t commit to the extra time. Give the bloke a go, Cerrie. And stop taking it personally.’
I don’t want Jo to be right about this. Work is complicated enough without my beloved Christmas production becoming a battleground too. I don’t want to work with Tom on it, but what choice do I have? At least it’s Friday and I have a whole weekend until I have to face school again. So as soon as I leave school, I drive to St Ives, to meet my friends. Planning the town’s Christmas festival has never been so appealing . . .