The drama and worry were such that I’d actually forgotten that Red was starting on the Monday morning but as I drove towards school, I saw him, ahead on the pavement, it all came back to me. Red was starting today.
I had drawn level with him and, for a moment, my foot hovered on the accelerator pedal. I could just drive off, pretend not to have seen him. And shaken these feelings out of me. Maybe I was feeling unsettled because of Rosie. I was worried, that was all. And my period was probably on its way. I just needed a bar of Dairy Milk and all would be well. Rosie would be okay. She was a bright, capable girl. Just sensitive. And what lovely, young seventeen-year-old wasn’t? But as I glanced at him, he looked up and saw me, hand lifted in acknowledgment and I had no choice but to stop. Heart pumping, I rolled down the window and arranged my face into pleasant neutrality.
‘No car?’ I called out.
He shook his head. ‘Not this morning, no,’ he said, leaning into the window, smiling. ‘The walk is doing me good.’
Oh Red, I thought. Just get in the car and I’ll tell you everything. Everything. And you might forgive me. You might not. I just want to tell you why I didn’t get on that plane. And why I didn’t answer your calls or explain anything to Christy when you sent him to talk to me.
‘Fresh air?’ I asked.
So many times, I wondered what would have happened had I got on that flight, explained everything.
‘Headspace,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling nervous.’ He grinned. He didn’t look particularly nervous. Red was always so supremely confident. The one thing, which made me feel better back then, was that Red was strong. He’d be all right.
‘What on earth for?’
‘You know, new school, new pupils to impress. New teachers to talk to in the staff room,’ he said. ‘That kind of thing. Like will my new colleagues find my break-time banter annoying or amusing? Will my briefcase be an object of ridicule?’
‘Object of ridicule,’ I said. ‘Definitely.’ He laughed and I watched his face for a moment and wondered what he really thought of me. Was he being polite? Had he decided to just pretend nothing had happened? How did he feel about me? Did he feel anything? ‘And the staff are going to love you. Only man and everything. They are going to be delighted with you.’
‘I need a beard,’ he said. ‘I was shaving this morning and I thought, there is something missing. I don’t look teachery enough. What was it? A cord jacket? A cocktail of chalk dust and dandruff on my shoulders. No! A beard. I need a beard.’
‘Look at me!’ I said. ‘I look like I’m going to a fancy dress party as a teacher. I couldn’t be more of a cliché. Smart, poly-mix, inoffensive pastel-coloured jacket. Enough unnatural fibres to withstand a nuclear attack or, at least, life in a school.’ I was enjoying myself. Too much. Drive on, Tabitha, I ordered myself, sensibly. Drive on and stop thinking about him. This won’t come to anything and the last thing you need is to start pining for your long lost love and a rekindled romance. You are a grown-up, my inner voice said. Act like one. But it was almost like a physical pain, a longing. A visceral need, an ache that would only be soothed and quenched by being right there, like I used to be, pressed up against him. It was a physical force. Was it seeing him walking that had triggered this? Before I had only felt awkwardness, but seeing him with his hair curling over his collar, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. And how happy he looked. I wanted it. I wanted to be part of his world and I wanted him to be part of mine.
‘Would you like a lift?’ That was me, out loud.
‘No,’ he said, pulling back a little. ‘No thanks.’ ‘I’ll keep walking.’
‘Yes, yes of course. Well, see you in school, Red. Goodbye.’ And primly, like the good head teacher I was, I drove away. A great crush of disappointment, like I’d embarrassed myself, dared to imagine, to fantasise, hanging over me. I felt like a fool.
Before
It was the morning of Rosaleen’s funeral and I went down at dawn for a swim in the Forty Foot. I hadn’t slept at all, not really, and had just been waiting for the light to creep into the world before grabbing my towel and cycling down.
It was so early I was the only person there and the sky was still grey and cold and I shivered as I slipped off my dress and jumper and took off my shoes and stepped into the freezing water.
Rosaleen. Rosaleen. I still couldn’t believe that she was gone after those weeks of illness. I had thought every single day that this was the day she would get better, start getting her energy back, but when they told me that she had cancer and that there was nothing they could do about it, I still couldn’t grasp it.
Red had phoned the night before from a public phone box.
‘I wish I could be there with you,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe you are going through it on your own.’ He told me that his dad was going to come to the funeral. But the cost of a flight for Red was utterly prohibitive. Not when I was going to see him a mere three weeks later.
‘I’ll be waiting for you,’ he said.
‘I can’t wait to see you,’ I said. ‘I just want to get away. And anyway, there’s something I want to tell you…’ The pips were going. We had seconds left. ‘I love you,’ I said.
‘I love you too.’
The water was around my ankles and I could see my feet all blurry below the water. And then in I plunged, swimming down towards the bottom and then slowly, gracefully, resurfacing. I flipped over onto my back and looked at the sky, my secret inside me.