Merry Measure - Lily Morton Page 0,48

I’ll keep my emotions out of it. I nod in satisfaction.

“You look deep in thought.” Jack’s voice sounds from behind me.

I twist to grin up at him. “That always implies that the thoughts are really worthy.”

“And are they?” he asks, setting two mugs on the table and taking the chair beside me.

I shrug. “Only if you consider thinking about sucking your cock as worthy.”

He jerks, making a choked sound and banging his knee on the table hard enough to make the mugs rattle.

“Shit,” he says, catching the cutlery before it falls on the ground.

I grin. “I reckon that was a worthy thought.”

He swallows hard and watches me with dark eyes. “Do you think we’re making a mistake?” he says tentatively.

I shake my head immediately. “Nope.”

He blinks. “Well, that was pretty definite.”

I take his hand and squeeze it. “It’s just sex,” I say robustly. “We can do what we want, Jack.” I smile winsomely at him. “Sex and artwork. That’s going to be the title of this chapter when I write my life story.”

He snorts, laughter filling his brown eyes. “So, you’re writing an autobiography. What are you titling it?”

“‘A Teacher’s Life is Not for Me,’” I say darkly, enjoying his laughter. It’s rich and warm and still gives me butterflies even after all these years.

I sip my coffee. It’s espresso and so strong it’s going to give me the jitters.

“Do you still love teaching, Arlo?” he asks, his tone interested and engaged. “I remember how happy you were when you got on the PGCE course.”

I smile at him. “I really do love it. Even more now that I’m a couple of years down the road. Each year makes me more confident. I’m much more at ease than when I started.” I fiddle with my mug. “I know Steven says that it’s babysitting, and to be honest, he’s not totally wrong because they are babies. They’re very little.”

“I wouldn’t listen to Steven. He hasn’t got the patience to rear a cactus.”

I laugh and then shrug. “They’re not just little, though. They’re also funny and quick and sharp and endlessly surprising. Some days I’m so knackered that I haven’t even got a thought left when I get home. But I still get up the next day, looking forward to seeing their faces. I love teaching, and I like to think that I’ve made a tiny difference.”

“I admire you. I couldn’t teach.”

I eye him. “You could. You’ve certainly got the patience for it after all these years of being Tom’s friend.”

He laughs and then sobers. “So, do you think you’ll stay in Derby once the temping contract is done?”

He seems to be taking care to keep his voice even, as if he cares very much about where I’ll be working. My heart picks up pace.

“I’m not going to stay,” I say, watching him carefully. His relieved slump only lasts a second, but I know I didn’t imagine it. I resist the urge to fist-pump. “I’ve been asked,” I say casually. “But it’s not for me.”

“The job?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Oh, the job is good, and it’s almost certain that the lady isn’t coming back once her maternity leave is done. No, it’s the private school setting. It’s not really my thing.”

“I wouldn’t think it was.”

“What do you mean?”

He smiles. “You’re a very passionate person who wants to make a difference. I’d imagine you could do that more in the state system.”

I nod. “That’s it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a privilege to work in such a beautiful environment, and the fact that there’s lots of money available to fund anything we want to do doesn’t hurt. And I’d never fall into the trap of imagining that rich people’s children don’t need the same care, because they do.” I huff. “They just need it in different areas. But it’s not for me. I’m scruffy and far too loud, and I actually prefer working in a school that doesn’t have any money and that demands creativity. A place where I’d have to stretch myself constantly.” I look around. “Maybe one day I could teach abroad too. I’d love to do that for the experience.” I shift awkwardly. “Sorry. That was a bit of a rant.”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “Don’t apologise for talking. I love listening to you.”

“I know, and maybe you should be slightly worried about what that says about your mental health.”

He chuckles. “I’ll take my chance.” He looks up as a grumpy waitress comes towards us with two plates of