WLW Age-Gap Romance With Adorable Kids Box Set Page 4

Colin dropped the soil and trudged towards the school.

  “We’ll talk more about the locals later,” Lucy promised with a grin and a wink.

  Alice gave a half-hearted smile and nodded. She didn’t want to talk about the locals. Her one concern with a small town was that everyone would know everyone else’s business, which definitely seemed to be the case. Alice liked to make her own decisions about people and not prejudge them based upon stories she’d heard in whispers.

  How to bring that up with Lucy without offending her would be difficult but, seeing as Lucy was the only person who had reached out to her yet, she might just have to.

  She pushed her hands into her coat pockets and looked around the playground, checking for anything that needed her attention.

  5 AN ENCYCLOPAEDIA HOUSED IN A LEMON CARDIGAN

  Hannah waited outside the gates. The bell indicating the end of the day had rung a few minutes earlier, and there was a stream of children rushing out of the main doors.

  In her own school days, she’d always been one of the first out, desperate to get home. She hoped Rosie wouldn’t think that way. She wanted school to be a better experience for her daughter, which was why she had tried to instil a sense of fun and excitement in her when it came to learning. She didn’t know if it was that or if Rosie was genetically predisposed to enjoy acquiring new knowledge. Either way, she hoped the school environment was everything Rosie had hoped it would be.

  Just then, Rosie appeared in the doorway, her rucksack visible almost before she was. Hannah waved, and Rosie turtle-waddled over to her.

  “Did you have a good day, pumpkin?” Hannah bent down and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

  “It was great. We did all the school rules and we spoke about reading and we got some new textbooks. We’re allowed to decorate them.” Rosie pulled back and looked intently at her mother. “I don’t think I want to decorate mine.”

  “Maybe think about it?” Hannah suggested. “You might think of something that would be perfect.”

  She stood up and gently tugged the rucksack from Rosie’s shoulders. She worried the girl would tip over with the added weight.

  “Maybe. Miss Spencer says we get another textbook tomorrow.”

  “Another one?” Hannah enthused for Rosie’s benefit. “Maybe we should get you a trolley instead of a bag?”

  “That’s silly,” Rosie informed her.

  “True.” Hannah held out her hand, and Rosie took it.

  “Miss Spencer said we are going to make up stories tomorrow.”

  “Did she?”

  “Yes. We are going to work in groups. Miss Spencer says that there will be gold stars given out for the best stories.”

  “Wow, do you think you’ll get a gold star?” Hannah smiled at the fact that Miss Spencer had been mentioned three times within a single minute. She gestured that they should start walking back towards the village, guessing that Rosie would happily stand outside the gate and talk about Miss Spencer and her first day of school for the next few hours if allowed.

  Rosie shrugged her shoulders.

  “Do you want some help thinking of a story?” Hannah asked.

  “No, I have a story.”

  “Do you think it’s not very good?” Hannah fished.

  “No, I think it’s good. I just don’t want to say it out loud to everyone.”

  “Ah.” Hannah figured as much.

  She knew Rosie would struggle a little with the group activities, but she’d hoped that the excitement of her first day would have helped with that. It seemed that Rosie hadn’t said a lot in class and didn’t plan to.

  “Are we going back to the salon now?” Rosie asked.

  “Nope.”

  Rosie looked up at her curiously. She was used to Hannah’s schedule, even if the hours sometimes changed, she was mostly working.

  “I have the whole afternoon off,” Hannah announced, unable to stop her grin. “And we are—”

  “Mummy, don’t tease!” Rosie bounced up and down in anticipation of the surprise.

  “We are,” Hannah said again for emphasis, “going to…

  “Mummy!” Rosie whined.

  “The library,” Hannah finished.

  Rosie’s eyes opened wide, and a shout of joy erupted from her lips. She started to skip on the spot. Hannah had never been one for reading, but it had become quickly apparent that Rosie adored it. The only affordable way to keep up with her appetite for new books was to take frequent trips to the library. Unfortunately, they weren’t always as frequent as Hannah, or Rosie, would have liked.

  “And then,” Hannah continued, “we’re going to the supermarket to get ingredients for pizza!”

  Hannah would have thought it was impossible for Rosie to get more excited, but she did just that as she let out a squeal. Pizza was Rosie’s favourite meal, and she loved to help to make it.

  A trip to the library and a homemade pizza weren’t much by most people’s standards, but it was all Hannah could manage. She was pleased that it made Rosie deliriously happy, so she guessed that it was enough.

  They walked farther into town in silence, Hannah thinking about what she needed at the shop while Rosie skipped beside her.

  “Daniel cried in class,” Rosie suddenly announced.

  “Why?”

  “He thought school was just one day,” Rosie explained. “When Miss Spencer said she’d see us all tomorrow, he didn’t get why. So, she told him he’d be in school until he was sixteen. He cried.”

  Hannah smothered a laugh. She worried about that boy. She’d been pretty bad in school, but Daniel was the dumbest kid she’d ever known.

  “What did Miss Spencer say to that?” Hannah asked.

  “She said that he’d get used to it. She said he might enjoy it and want to stay even longer.”

  Hannah laughed. She couldn’t see it somehow.

  “Do you like Miss Spencer?” she asked.

  “Yes. She’s nice.”

  “Good. Not hairy?”

  “No. And no big teeth,” Rosie said.

  “Bet she still has the eye in the back of her head,” Hannah teased.

  * * *

  Hannah strolled around the library, trying to contain her boredom. The building was small, and she’d circled every set of shelves at least ten times. Every now and then she reached out and considered a book before remembering how little time she had. Not to mention the fact she didn’t particularly enjoy reading. It had always been something she had been forced to do, and something she’d been bad at.

  Thankfully, Rosie had never had that problem. Rosie was interested in books long before she could properly hold one, and Hannah had done her best to feed that interest. Which was why she was in a library with a five-year-old who had read almost all the books in the puny children’s section.

  Mrs Lawrence, the librarian, was on hand to help Rosie with new books she might want to try. She had even gone so far as to order in books from other libraries once or twice. It was a relief as Hannah really had no idea what Rosie should be reading or who wrote what. But Mrs Lawrence was an encyclopaedia housed in a lemon cardigan, and she loved Rosie.

  Hannah walked past the reception desk where Mrs Lawrence was happily scanning Rosie’s new stash of books.

  “Miss Spencer said we’re getting homework tomorrow,” Rosie said. “I’ve never had homework.”

  “Homework? You’re too young to have homework,” Mrs Lawrence decided.

  “I want homework,” Rosie confessed. “I like it.”

  “It’s true,” Hannah said. “She’s asked me to assign her homework in the past.”

  Mrs Lawrence shook her head. “Growing up too fast,” she mumbled.

  Hannah agreed. Rosie was growing up too fast. She wished she had some kind of magic potion that would allow her to slow things down and enjoy more time with her daughter while she was a child. It seemed like every time she turned around, Rosie had done a little more growing up.

  “I hope it’s maths,�
� Rosie said.

  Hannah chuckled. Only her daughter would be wishing for math homework.

  6 THE MUCH-TALKED-ABOUT MISS SPENCER

  As Alice packed up her things, she felt relieved that the day had gone surprisingly well. A couple of minor meltdowns were always to be expected, and both had been easily dealt with. She walked around the room, tucking chairs under desks and straightening things up. She knew the cleaners would be in soon, but she wanted to leave the room as presentable as possible.

  She shivered as she passed the window, the wooden surround having rotted so much that air was blowing through.

  “This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself.

  She grabbed her bag and decided to go and see the headmaster. Lucy had said there was no money in the budget for decorating, but some of the repairs were beyond superficial. At least if she brought it up with Hardaker herself, she’d know she’d done all she could.

  She exited the classroom and headed towards the stairs, her footsteps echoing down the long corridor. She looked into the other rooms as she passed. All looked similar, but none were quite as bland and run-down as hers. She assumed other teachers had held onto their previous forms’ work in order to decorate the bare walls.

  As she walked down the stairs and towards the headmaster’s office, she thought about what she wanted to say. She had to be clear and concise. This wasn’t simply about aesthetics, although that was important. She had to highlight the state of decay and the fact that it was uncomfortable and possibly even dangerous to the students.

  Hardaker was leaving his office when she arrived. In her old school, most teachers didn’t go home until at least two hours after the end of the children’s school day. Often the headmaster stayed even longer.

  Things were very different in Fairlight.

  “Headmaster, if I may have a word?”

  Hardaker looked at her and then at his watch. “It will have to be a quick one, Miss Spencer. I promised my wife I would be home at a reasonable hour, and I’m already late.”

  Alice blinked. The only way he could have left any earlier was if he left with the children. Twenty minutes ago.

  “I do hope you’ve not had enough of us already?” he asked with a jovial chuckle.

  “Oh, no, nothing like that. But I do need to talk to you about my form room. It’s in dire need of maintenance.”

  Hardaker stepped around her and started walking. She fell into step behind him. He was old, but he was fast when he wanted to get home.

  “As is the entire school, my dear,” he said.

  “There are draughts, and the lights dimmed for around an hour this afternoon,” Alice explained.

  “We have an electrician coming soon.”

  “And the draughts?”

  “It’s an old building.” Hardaker shrugged. “It can’t be helped.”

  “With respect, headmaster, I think it’s detrimental to the children’s learning and possibly to their health.”

  “A nice winter coat and they will be fine,” Hardaker reassured her. He paused and turned to face her. “Most of the village and surrounding villages attended this school. You don’t see uneducated masses lying in the streets, suffering with consumption.”

  Alice stood her ground. “Well, no, but we don’t know how much stronger their education might have been if they’d been taught in a building that had been better maintained.”

  “My dear, I’d like nothing more than to fix the whole building, but there simply isn’t any money. If a window falls out, of course it will be replaced. If there is a danger to the children, it will be repaired. But draughts and holes in brickwork are simply not a priority. Is there anything else?”

  Alice knew there was no point in trying to reason with him. He hadn’t seen the effects of a modern, inspiring working environment like she had. She didn’t want to cause too much trouble on her first day. She might need Hardaker on her side for other things in the future. This wasn’t a battle she would win today.

  “No, headmaster, thank you for your time.”

  He nodded, seemingly happy that the matter had been resolved. He turned and headed towards the door.

  “Of course,” he called over his shoulder, “you are welcome to decorate in whatever way you see fit. At your own expense, naturally. If you feel it would help the children.”

  Alice ground her teeth. “Thank you, headmaster,” she called back.

  She shook her head. Of course, she knew budgets were tight, but it was obvious that Hardaker was completely disinterested in trying to make real improvements. He was focused on making the building just about habitable, not a place where children would thrive.

  No child was going to feel good about coming to a freezing, bland box of a classroom, and no person, adult or child, would be able to focus on learning in such conditions. She reminded herself that it was September and that it would only get worse. The very thought of January in the form room was enough to make her shiver.

  Clattering behind her caused her to turn around. A cleaner was manhandling an old vacuum cleaner into the hallway. She looked at Alice in surprise.

  “You’re here late, miss,” she said.

  Alice had never finished a school day so early, but it seemed a frequent occurrence in Fairlight to get out of the door shortly after the children.

  “Just leaving now,” she said. “Have a nice night.”

  She exited the building and headed towards the car park. On the way, she wondered if she could get the children to create some art for the walls without it getting in the way of their curriculum. She also wondered how effective flimsy paper would be against actual holes in the wall.

  Hardaker was in the car park, a grin on his face.

  “I had one of these, many years ago.” He pointed to her car.

  “It’s a classic,” she replied as she unlocked her racing green original Mini.

  “Many, many years ago,” he continued. “Not sure when, was it the early seventies?”

  Alice assumed she wasn’t part of the conversation anymore and put her bag on the passenger seat. She noticed the car park was completely empty aside from a Volvo, which she assumed belonged to Hardaker. It seemed they were the last two out of the building.

  “This one is from the late eighties,” she replied.

  “Well, I hope it doesn’t cause you too many problems,” he said.

  “None so far,” she said.

  Probably because I maintain it better than you maintain your school, she thought.

  “Good, good. Well, I better go. See you in the morning,” he said.

  “Absolutely, have a nice evening.” She got into the car and closed the door, letting out a deep breath.

  She had known that starting a new job would be stressful and that there would be lots of things to learn, especially in such a small town. It was obvious that things would be different. She was just a little taken aback by how different they were.

  “When in Rome,” she mumbled and started the engine.

  * * *

  Alice parked up at the local supermarket. It was about a fiftieth of the size she was used to, but she assumed, and hoped, she would be able to find everything she needed. According to Google Maps, Fairlight had a corner shop and a supermarket. The next nearest supermarket was a twenty-minute drive away, not terrible but not convenient for a pint of milk.

  She got out of the car, noticing that a few passers-by were gawking at her. She was used to her classic car attracting attention, but she had to wonder in this instance if it was the car or her. Fairlight seemed pretty small, and she got the impression that anyone new was going to warrant a second look.

  Basket in hand, she strolled around the supermarket aisles. It was a pleasant surprise that that the supermarket has a TARDIS feel to it, seemingly containing more inside than looked possible from the outside.

  She turned a corner and saw a woman and a small girl whom she recognised as Rosie Hall. Rosie saw her and subtly positioned herself behind the woman’s l
egs in an attempt to hide. Alice tilted her head to the side to catch Rosie’s line of vision and smiled.

  It was then that the woman noticed her and looked at her strangely.

  Alice realised that she was staring, and smiling, at a stranger’s legs.

  I’m sorry, I’m not looking at your legs,” Alice apologised. She closed her eyes for a second as she realised how ridiculous that sounded. “I mean, I am… but.”

  She stopped talking and took a breath to gather her thoughts. She looked up and made eye contact with the woman. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment. The woman was gorgeous with long, flowing, brown hair and rich brown eyes. She wore tight jeans and a cosy knitted sweater that complimented her figure. She shook her head, trying to piece her thoughts together.

  “I’m Rosie’s teacher,” she finally explained.

  “Ah, the much-talked-about Miss Spencer. I’m Hannah, Rosie’s mum.”

  Hannah held out her hand, and Alice shook it. She was glad to hear that Rosie had spoken about her, and the smile on Hannah’s face suggested that what she had said was positive.

  Hannah stepped to the side a little, forcing Rosie to make eye contact with her teacher. Alice looked at Rosie and then at Hannah, realising that Rosie was quite simply a tiny version of her mother. Of course, it was common for children to look like their parents, but the similarities were startling.

  “We’re just buying the ingredients for pizza,” Hannah explained when the silence dragged on a little.

  “That sounds lovely. Pizza is one of my favourites,” Alice said, addressing Rosie in the hope that she’d coax her out of her shell.

  Rosie smiled but silently hugged her mother’s leg.

  “It’s Rosie’s absolute favourite. It’s a celebration for the first day of school.”

  “What a good idea! Did you have a good day, Rosie?” Alice asked.

  Rosie nodded her head eagerly but still remained voiceless.

  “Wonderful, me too. But I better let you get on,” Alice said, knowing that Rosie was a little uncomfortable. She looked at Hannah, the air briefly leaving her lungs as the young woman made eye contact with her and smiled.