under his breath, except it’s loud enough for me to hear, which means the students hear it too.
I stand up and make my way to the back of the room where he’s clearing out the sink. “What’s wrong? I’m fairly sure the entire class heard that S-bomb.”
“Everything is wet.” He holds up a set of containers.
“That’s because you left them here on Friday.” I point to the faucet, which is dripping much more than usual. “And because that’s still leaking.”
He huffs, moves the containers aside, and angrily flicks on the tap. Water bursts from the faucet like a fountain and hits me in the face. I scream and hold my hands up to block the spray, but there’s too much.
“Shit!” he says.
I step aside, but the water spurts out toward the carpet, so I take one for the team and, once again, use my hands and body as a shield. I’m already drenched, so why the hell not.
“Quick! Turn it off!” I yell.
“I can’t. The tap broke off.”
“What?”
From his dry position a few feet away, he holds up the rusted brass lever that used to be attached to the sink.
“So? Don’t just stand there; do what you did at your Nonna’s house.”
“Huh?”
“You fixed her leaking tap, didn’t you?”
Oliver appears to search his mind for what I’m referring to, but I’m fairly sure—given his Dumbo expression—that he has no idea, because it never happened.
“Uh… er….” He steps back and scratches his head just as George—Mr Tims—and Carly rush around the corner.
“Wow!” George gives the kids an excited but reassuring smile. “It’s raining in your classroom. Cool!”
I laugh a not-so-funny laugh at the oldest teacher at our school while unsuccessfully trying to stem the flow of water with my hands. “A little help, please.”
“I’ll call a plumber,” Carly says and rushes out of the room.
George bends down, reaches under the sink, and the fountain turns to a trickle.
“Oh, thank goodness.” I sigh, prop myself against the sink, and wipe my eyes with the backs of my hands, droplets of water falling from my nose, ears, chin, and arms.
Oliver sheepishly hands me a roll of paper towel, and I have the overwhelming urge to crack him over the head with it, especially when he moves to the front of the room and says, “Okay, kids. It’s stopped raining inside, so you can take a seat back on the mat, please.” He then picks up the multiplication chart and starts next session’s lesson as if nothing happened, as if I’m not standing here soaking wet with a mess to clean and a tap to fix. Is he kidding me?
George stands up. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” I offer him some paper towels. “But the tap has been leaking for a couple of weeks now—”
A thunder rumbles from the sinkhole.
George steps back then looks at my tummy as if it’s about to explode. “I hope that was your stomach.”
I step back too. “Normally, it would be.”
“It might be worth turning the water mains off to this building.” He wipes his face then scrunches up his piece of paper towel and tosses it into the bin. “I’ll go do that now.”
“Thanks, George. You’re a lifesaver.”
He looks at Oliver then at me. “You gonna be okay?”
I scoff then peel my blouse from my chest and flap it. “Yeah, but I might need to go stand in the sun for a bit.”
He chuckles, squeezes my shoulder, and then leaves.
Not one to stand around and do nothing, I head to the storeroom and return with a bucket, mop, and some cloths and begin mopping the floor, towelling the edge of the carpet and wiping down the sink, tables, and windows. It takes me a while, because water reached farther than I realised, and when everything is dry—sans me—and safe from hazards, I make my way outside to dry off a bit, still flapping my shirt when I turn the corner and slam into a wall.
A man wall.
A big, hard, familiar man wall.
“Will?” I question, stepping back, perplexed.
“Damn! If it isn’t a wet Labia.”
Chapter Six
His misty eyes hover over my chest, so I cross my arms, shielding his view. “What are you doing here?” I hiss.
“I’ve come to clean out your pipes.”
“What?”
“Apparently your pipes are blocked.”
I pinch my brow, a headache forming.
“You look confused, sweetheart.”
“I am.”
“Sorry, Will. I had to answer that call,” Carly says as she steps out from behind him, a sneaky smile creeping across her face when her eyes meet mine. “Oh, good. You’re here, Lib. Can you