The Mistress - Jill Childs Page 0,88

waved and beamed as the girls went careering over to her.

She jumped out and enveloped them both in hugs. ‘Had a good week?’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Fab!’

‘Wow!’ She raised her eyes to me. ‘And how about you?’

I smiled. ‘Splendiferous.’

We went for lunch at the pub at the bottom of the hill. Saturdays were usually busy and the outdoor tables were already taken. Bea and I found a patch of weak October sunshine in a corner of the garden and sat on a picnic rug, wrapped up in cardigans and coats.

The girls tore up and down the mound at the far end of the garden, making themselves dizzy with rolling races, then practising handstands and cartwheels, collapsing on each other in a heap of limbs.

‘She’s had a brilliant time.’ Bea smiled. ‘You are kind.’

I shrugged. ‘So has Anna. She’s really missed her.’

‘Likewise. You dug me out of such a hole. I’d got used to falling back on Megan at half-term.’

‘Where is she at the moment?’

‘Northern Cambodia.’

I nodded. ‘All going well?’

‘She’s having a ball. You were right.’ She gave me a shrewd look. ‘She deserved a break. She worked herself into the ground last year.’

We clinked glasses. The white wine was crisp and cold. Bea tore open a packet of crisps, set it between us on the rug and munched on one. I felt my shoulders relax, as if I were setting down a heavy burden, one I’d been carrying for a long time.

Bea twisted sideways to look me over. ‘Anyway, how are you? How’s your year away?’

‘Is that what it is?’ I laughed. ‘Pretty good. Anna seems settled in school. It’s tiny. She’s got ten in her class. But it’s a great school.’ I hesitated, embarrassed. ‘I’m helping out there, actually.’

Bea looked surprised. ‘Teaching?’

‘No! Sorting out a library for them. They didn’t really have one. I’ve got plans for a fundraiser after Christmas so we can buy more stock.’

We sat quietly for a moment. The year was cooling, rolling towards winter, but here the sunshine fell warm on our faces.

Bea said, ‘How’s Anna doing, generally?’ She felt her way forward. ‘Does she talk about her dad much?’

‘She came home upset the other day because kids at school started asking where he was.’ She’d sobbed in my arms, curling into me. How could I comfort her? ‘The teacher said he was probably safe in Heaven. I don’t know if that helped or not.’

Bea said, thoughtfully, ‘She looks well. Stronger. More her own person.’

I nodded. ‘I think that’s right.’

‘You guys will come back eventually though, won’t you?’

‘I don’t know.’ I sighed. ‘Maybe.’

Bea hesitated as if she were deciding whether to leave me alone or to pursue the subject.

‘Mrs Prior says you will.’ Bea raised her eyebrows. ‘She says you needed closure but once you have that…’

‘Oh, please.’ I shook my head. ‘Mrs Prior! That’s a reason never to come back, right there.’

‘I wouldn’t let that stop you.’ She leaned towards me and lowered her voice. ‘Word on the street is that she’s pregnant. And if she is, I bet she doesn’t come back again. So, you might be okay.’

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Who’s giving you all this gossip?’

She shrugged. ‘I’ve got to make an effort, now you’ve gone. There’s no one else to tell me what’s going on.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’ I took a sip of wine. ‘Go on, then. What else do I need to know?’

She paused. ‘Not much.’ She watched the girls, who were back to rolling down the mound. ‘Well, there is one thing.’

I stiffened. I knew exactly what she was going to say. Something about Ralph. Some incriminating evidence had been found.

She drank a gulp of her wine, then said, ‘It’s about Miss Dixon.’

‘Miss Dixon?’ I blew out my cheeks. ‘What about her? Is she teaching again?’

She shook her head. ‘Not yet. But she’s moved. Gone to live near her sister in Kent.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Jayne in the office.’

I nodded. She was a pretty reliable source. ‘Any idea how she’s doing?’

‘Better, I think. Her sister’s got kids and Miss Dixon is going to help out for a bit. Until she feels up to teaching again.’

I nodded. ‘I’m glad.’

A lad from the bar came out with a tray of sandwiches, shouting our number.

Bea waved him down, then ran across to the girls to get them to come and eat. Their trousers were stained with soil and grass and purple splashes from squashed bilberries. I watched Bea as she bent over them, brushing them down, one by one, half-scolding, half-teasing.

My mind was far