calls out Miss Watts from across the playground. I purposely avoid eye contact. I don’t have time for this. I look at my watch to let her know I’m under pressure.
‘Sorry, it won’t take a minute,’ she says. ‘Would you like to come into the classroom?’
I look at my watch again. ‘I’m running late, can we do it here?’
‘Of course. It’s just that . . .’ she looks around surreptitiously, but it’s early enough not to have too many other parents within earshot. ‘It’s just that we had a little incident yesterday, in the playground.’
My heart lurches and I can feel my brow furrowing. ‘What kind of incident?’ I ask, forcing myself to stay calm.
The teacher rests a reassuring hand on my arm, though it feels anything but. ‘Oh, it’s nothing serious,’ she says. ‘Just a falling out between a few of the girls.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘You know how girls can be.’
‘Was Olivia involved?’ I ask.
‘Apparently so. There were just a few nasty words bandied about, and Phoebe Kendall says that Olivia threatened not to play with her anymore. I’m sure it was nothing more than playground antics, but Phoebe was a little upset by it.’
I imagine she was. ‘Olivia didn’t mention anything last night. Did you speak to her?’
‘I had a quiet word yesterday,’ she says, looking around again before continuing in a hushed tone. ‘It’s just that it isn’t the first time that Olivia has been involved in an altercation of this type.’
I look at her, trying to read what’s going on behind her eyes. ‘Oh,’ is all I can manage.
Miss Watts leans in closer. ‘She’s normally such a bright and bubbly child, eager to be friends with everyone, but these past few weeks . . .’
I rack my brain, wondering what’s changed things. ‘I’ll talk to her – see what’s going on.’
‘Perhaps it would be useful to come in for a chat,’ she says, tilting her head to one side. Her condescending smile reminds me of a therapist I once had. The one who asked me to close my eyes and imagine I was lying on a deserted beach, with the sun warming my skin and the gentle waves lapping at my feet.
I hadn’t gone back. Treating me like a five-year-old didn’t work then, and it certainly isn’t going to work now.
‘I’d be happy to see you and Mr Davies after school today if you’re available?’ Miss Watts goes on.
‘I’m afraid Nathan . . . Mr Davies is away on business. He’s flying back this afternoon.’
‘Ah, okay then, perhaps another time,’ she says. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, just something we need to keep our eye on.’
‘Of course,’ I say, before turning on my heels and instantly bumping into a group of girls playing hopscotch. ‘I’ll talk to her tonight.’
I make my apologies to the disgruntled children as I tiptoe over brightly painted numbers on the tarmac.
‘Wow, you look a bit done-up for this time in the morning,’ calls out Beth, as she streaks past me in trainers and go-faster Lycra with her daughter Millie trailing behind.
‘Hey gorgeous girl,’ I say to the petulant-looking eight-year-old. ‘What’s up?’
‘She got up late,’ Millie replies, as she rolls her eyes theatrically towards her mother. ‘And now we’re all paying for it.’
Beth turns around and pokes her tongue out at the both of us. ‘Let me drop this little madam off and I’ll walk out with you.’
I tap my watch. ‘I’m running late,’ I say after her. ‘I’ll catch you later.’ But she’s already gone and is depositing Millie in the playground. I start walking out, knowing that within seconds she’ll be at my side.
‘So where are you off to all dressed up?’ she asks, half-accusingly, as she catches up with me. I look down at my black skirt; granted, it is a little tight. And my red top; perhaps a little low. But my jacket goes some way to covering me up. Suddenly conscious of what Miss Watts might have thought, I pull it closed.
‘Do I have to be going somewhere to make an effort?’ I laugh lightly, though Olivia is still nagging at my brain.
‘Anything other than pyjamas or gym gear is abnormal at this time of day,’ Beth says. ‘So yes, you looking like that, when us mere mortals haven’t even had time to brush our teeth, is really not fair, and most definitely shouldn’t be allowed.’
‘It’s just my normal work attire,’ I say. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary.’