Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Zoe

‘Hold up, he took you where?' Beth asks me, taking the register for me as we load up this minibus to Winchester.

‘Miss, what happens if you've forgotten to pack your lunch?' Bonnie asks me.

‘Then you'll likely be sharing my tuna and cucumber roll. We'll think of something,' I say, turning back to Beth and lowering my voice. ‘He took me to Laser Tag.'

‘How old is he again?' she jokes.

I narrow my eyes and shake my head at her. Yes, it was an unconventional date, and I seriously thought my Laser Tag days were behind me, but it was pretty easy to work out the intention, and what he wanted to do was introduce me to his family which, according to those bouncy nephews of his, was quite a big step for him. In any case, the cake was good and despite my limited experience in the dating pool of late, any date that involves cake is a good thing. Beth looks at me; she's intrigued but also trying to work me out. Whereas Mia thinks she's wildly smart for orchestrating this set up and Kate feels it's what I deserve for having been treated so badly by Brian, Beth is still trying to work out if this is a good or bad thing. She's not the only one.

‘I take it the date didn't just end at Laser Tag, though?' she asks me.

Oh no, we shagged in an alleyway, I gave him half a hand job in my kitchen, hid him from my husband in my garden and then we did indeed have sex. In my bed. I can't really say that with children peering in and out of the school minibus.

‘No,' I reply, smiling, and she laughs under her breath.

‘Well, then I'm slightly in awe. I was telling my sisters about you at lunch and you are their new hero.'

I chuckle in disbelief that stories of my escapades are being told around tables like some sort of urban legend. Did you hear about that mumsy teacher who got dumped on her ass and then hooked up and found happiness with someone fourteen years younger than her? Yeah, I can't quite believe it either.

‘And so what do I have to do?' Beth asks.

‘Oh, Jack was at the house and Brian and Lottie dropped by and so I had to think on my feet and say you'd dropped in for a cup of tea. So, if that comes up…'

‘I will be a very convincing alibi. I take it your kids don't know?' she asks.

‘God, no. One step at a time. A lot of people don't know. I just haven't worked out if it's a rebound fling or something more…' And the fact I'm still debating this makes me feel guilty. Because meeting Jack's family felt like something bigger, more important than I was expecting and I'm not sure if he wants me to reciprocate. I feel the longer this goes on for, the more feelings are going to be involved and people might get hurt and with what I've just experienced with Brian, it feels like it could get too complicated. ‘Can you imagine the things my Lottie would say if she met him?'

Beth scrunches up her face, nodding. ‘So do you think fling because he might not stick it out or because you're not quite ready for serious yet?' she asks me.

It's the ultimate question. ‘Both?' I suddenly sense his figure appear from around the corner and I stop for a moment, trying to stop looking so damn happy every time he's in my immediate vicinity. Beth turns to see why my stance has changed and laughs to herself.

‘Stop it,' I tell her.

‘I know that look.'

‘I'm just excited about my impeding STEM trip.'

‘Yeah, whatever, Mrs Swift. I am going to love you and leave you,' she says, peering into the bus. ‘Have a lovely time, everyone!' She leans into me. ‘Have fun, Mrs Swift.'

‘Miss Callaghan, Mrs Swift,' Jack says, trying to act normal but brushing against my hand intentionally. I hold my breath as he does this. He can't do this all day. I won't cope. His school look hasn't changed bar a backpack this time. I hope he read the letter and packed a waterproof coat, lunch and a pencil case with a calculator.

‘I did say eight o'clock, Mr Damon. It's five minutes past eight.'

‘I am sorry.'

‘Well, to make it up to us, you can drive the first leg to the services.'

‘Deal,' he says, putting his hand out so I can shake it.

‘Be good, kids,' Beth jokes, interrupting this little moment, allowing Jack and I to part ways and get this trip on its way. It's like a day out with ten children tagging along who are bloody good at Rubik's Cubes.

‘Morning, everyone!' Jack says, waving to his passengers, before settling into the driver's seat where he plugs his phone into the cradle, connecting it to the minibus stereo. He starts the engine and presses a few buttons until music starts blasting through the speakers. I can't seem to control my reaction and have to put my hand over my mouth, looking out of the window.

‘Is this RAYE, Sir?' asks a voice at the back.

‘It is! It's my new favourite. I had a dance to this a couple of weeks ago,' he says, smiling to himself as he grapples with the gearstick. With who, Mr Damon? Pray, do tell.

‘Let me know if you have any requests. Just no Oasis.'

I stop for a moment and look at him curiously.

‘No Oasis?' I ask.

He starts reversing and the ping of the minibus starts to echo through the carpark. ‘Just can't stand them.'

‘Ditto,' I reply. ‘Ditto.'

I'm never sure what these school trips will be like. I suppose I hope that there'll be a singalong on the bus and the children will be brimming with excitement about a day away from school and some provision for adventure and alternative learning. What really happens is that you're terrified that you have sole responsibility for these kids. What if I lose one of them? What if one of them wanders off? What if the bus breaks down on the motorway and we have to live in a layby forever? Never say that I'm not an optimist. It's been a hell of a drive and one that's now taken us to Fleet Services where we've stopped so the children (and I) can relieve ourselves, and the children can get excited about us allowing them to buy super expensive sweets.

‘Boys with me then,' Jack announces to the bus as children clamber over each other. I look at my watch. I've scheduled fifteen minutes for this stop which also allows me to buy more coffee. Jack turns to me smiling. ‘You OK, Miss?' he asks me. I don't know why he looks so well. I want to say it's youth without sounding condescending, but he just looks like he's rolled out of bed and done nothing more than thrown on a shirt, trousers and boots. He gets out of the bus and stretches his hands over his head, revealing a slice of stomach and the waistband of his underwear. I avert my eyes to avoid blushing in front of the kids but exhale coolly to know I've seen a hell of a lot more than that. ‘When I'm in there, can you just check Maps again? I might come off the M3 early if the traffic is still bad,' he tells me, before herding his small group of boys towards the services building. I have control over his phone. That feels like next level intimacy – my kids won't even let me do that much – but I do as I'm told, studying junctions and red lines on maps. As I scroll, however, a message pops up.

You keep ignoring me and it's bloody infuriating.

It's from Sarah. I should ignore it. Not my phone. Not my boyfriend in reality, so it's bad for me to even feel a hint of jealousy or interest in any of this. I will just assume it's the same lovely Sarah who delivered Dylan back home safely to me.

I need to tell them as soon as possible so please make a decision.

My interest is well and truly piqued now. A decision about what? Jack hasn't mentioned anything to me. I wonder if it's important, something he has to reply to now. Maybe it's as simple as a party invitation and she needs to know for catering. If this is the case, then I feel her fury as people who don't RSVP are galling. Maybe I have found that one thing about Jack that's vaguely annoying.

And I'll say it out loud, if you don't take up this opportunity then you're bloody stupid. Just bloody say YES.

Does this mean he's turned down an invite to a really good party? Instinct tells me probably no. I shouldn't get involved. I shouldn't even tell him I've seen this. I should look up directions and routes and just mind my own business, but I open up his messages and scroll up. Shit. He'll know I've read this. I'll just say I have fat fingers and plead ignorance. I look through the message chain – a lot of it is Jack just ignoring Sarah, but I come to one message from about two weeks ago.

This is what I was talking about last night. Please please consider it. I'm not asking you because you're a mate but I really think you'd be amazing at it. S

I follow the link and it takes me to a page detailing a conservation project in Borneo. I scan the page and find a small news box talking about how a Dr Sarah Jarvis is leading a small team of botanists to conduct some research out there, and I put two and two together like the good mathematician I am. Jack has never mentioned this. He took me to Laser Tag, we've kissed in a stationery cupboard, and had sex in that time but this was never something that came up. The messages track back to the weekend after we first slept together. I guess I am just a casual thing, so this is maybe something not to discuss with me. But I can also understand why he wouldn't mention it to me as it would involve him leaving. Leaving me. By that measure, though, is this why he hasn't said yes? Is it because of me?

‘Miss. Is there a shop at the university? I said I'd buy my mum something.' I can't seem to answer. ‘Miss?'

‘I guess we can find something, Bonnie. We need to find you a lunch, too, don't we?' I tell her.

‘Is something wrong, Miss?' she asks, sensing a change in my mood.

I shake my head. It feels like life encroaching on that lovely bubble I have with Jack again. Maybe that's what holds me back from liking him too much, talking too much about what our future looks like because, deep down, I was also a bit hesitant that it would go anywhere. Not that I viewed this as a fling. It was certainly starting to feel like more than that, but because in our lives, I see huge forks in the road. I don't want to give my kids even more emotional upheaval in trying to understand a new relationship. I don't want him to feel like he had to jump into my life and fit into it, rather than live his own. He's too good a person for that. I think when you've seen your own life fall apart, you don't wish that for people you know, for people you care about. You only want good things. I watch as I see him and his group exiting the services and scramble around trying to ensure that it looks like I haven't been snooping on his phone. That wasn't a good move in any case. I put the phone down on his side of the bus as the door enters.

‘All good?' he asks me.

I nod. ‘Right, our turn, girls. Did you want anything? A coffee maybe?' I ask, attempting to play it cool.

‘I'm good.'

‘Oh… by the way, when I was looking at your maps, a message from Sarah came up.'

‘Oh, cool,' he says, taking his phone and going through his messages. I watch him as he reads the messages then writes a reply. I wish I could ask the young boy behind him to peer over and see what he wrote. I really do.

Jack

I don't know about these kids but I am learning shit loads today about science and maths, and I've seen a boy solve a Rubik's Cube in twelve seconds. I seriously double high-fived him. I'd never seen anything so incredible. I think he appreciated the celebration but was slightly confused by my overexcitement. This exhibition is happening in a series of university buildings and for this last part of the day, we've allowed them free rein in this science centre, praying that they will make their way back to us.

‘Please, please, please. You have half an hour and then we need to get back on the road. Please go round in pairs. Don't attempt to go into the student union bar and please don't lose my clipboards,' Zoe tells them all. They all hang on her every word, nodding. I can't lie. We have the well-behaved maths crew, but I guess that's better than dragging kids around a castle where they don't want to be. They all disperse in different directions and Zoe breathes a sigh of relief.

‘It's been a good day. Chill. Here,' I say, handing her a cup of tea and putting a hand to her back. I rest the hand there a little too long, but she doesn't seem to mind. It's been a strange day like this where we've had to keep an acceptable distance from one another so as not to scare the children – any brief contact has, therefore, almost had to be planned, appear to be accidental, though it makes me clench my fists in frustration. I follow her as we settle on some stairs that open out to a huge quad dotted with trees, benches. It's a perfect spot to people watch and take a well-deserved breather, the early winter sunshine a welcome relief. I watch as she pulls her scarf over her face.

‘Are you cold? Do you want to go inside?' I ask her. ‘Or maybe I can sit closer to you? We can share bodily warmth.'

She shakes her head.

‘Are you just worried about another sex debacle?' I ask her and she laughs in response.

‘Here, at least get close enough to have a crisp,' I tell her, offering my pack over to her. She puts a hand in my packet, our hands grazing, and I see her smile.

‘Thank you, Sir.'

‘There are no children around. I believe you can just call me Jack.'

She smiles. I'm not quite sure but since the minibus, Zoe has been a tad quieter. I'm not sure if it's fatigue or the stress of having to keep eyes on all these kids but she stares out into the quad now, looking at all the students rushing to lectures and the curved sprawling architecture of the modern buildings.

‘It's super fancy here, eh?' I say.

‘Very. It's certainly very different from a London comprehensive,' she says, studying my face. ‘Tell me how you met Sarah again – wasn't it at university?' she asks me, out of the blue.

‘Yes, we were both botanists – proper plant geeks. Why?'

‘Oh – you know, being here I was just curious. There's so much I don't know about you. University to me feels like it was a lifetime ago. I can't believe this might be Dylan in a few years.'

She seems pensive and I desperately want to hold her hand. ‘So you were a numbers geek at uni?'

‘Yep. I loved the maths. But I had a terribly blunt fringe, too. That was a mistake,' she jokes. ‘Why plants?' she asks me. ‘Botany?'

‘When I was little, I was very into rainforests. I remember I had one of those fact files for Christmas and I knew all the names of the trees and the animals, and I became a bit fixated. That's not very sexy, is it?'

She breaks into laughter. ‘I don't know. It shows a passion for something, it shows you care. I see it with your nephews, too, Dom. In how much you care for them.'

It feels good that she sees that in me. ‘I'm good with trees, actually. It's my specialist subject. Go on, quiz me.'

She leans back, giggling. ‘The man is telling me he's good with wood.'

I cock my head to one side and point to a tree in the vicinity. ‘That is a London plane tree. From the Platanaceae family.'

‘Impressive,' she says.

‘You have no idea…'

She's quiet.

‘Actually, when I was at your house last week, I was looking at your garden.'

‘It's a shit garden,' she replies.

‘It needs some TLC, but you've got an amazing apple tree at the end of the garden that's doing well. You've got good soil back there. It's a good place for trees to flourish.'

We look out to a young couple who seem to be chasing each other around the quad. The boy catches up with the girl and he swings her around, before he kisses her.

‘God, I want to kiss you,' I tell her without looking at her.

She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees and putting the edge of her thumb in her mouth. I look over at her, seeing her mouth curl to a smile.

‘You know, when I came to your house after the boys' party last week, I keep thinking back to little moments of that evening.'

‘Moments?' she asks me. We both still look down the steps, trying to appear like we're engaging in a normal, decent, educated conversation but the temptation to tease Zoe in this very moment is far too great.

‘That moment when you were sitting on top of me on the edge of your bed and I had your nipple in my mouth. I keep thinking about the expression on your face.'

‘Jack…' she mumbles, looking over her shoulder in case a student is standing there.

‘I keep thinking about the shape of your mouth when you moan. How I love running my fingers over your lips, down your neck…'

She doesn't reply but I see her fidgeting on the spot, crossing her legs and hovering her drink over her mouth. Every moment with her seems to be etched in my brain at the moment; there's an addictive quality about being with her, near her and I can't compare it to anything else, any other person I've been with.

‘Did you like that, Zoe?'

She nods.

‘And I really loved putting my hands on your lower back and feeling the wave of your hips, the movement over me…' My mouth goes dry, every sinew of my body raging to know she's right next to me and I can't touch her. ‘Being inside you… feeling you tighten over me.'

She exhales loudly.

‘I love all of it, all of you.'

I said that, didn't I? She doesn't reply and I'm almost glad she doesn't.

‘Too much?' I joke.

‘I don't know how to reply. I'm literally sat here on these stairs on a school trip and my nipples are rock hard,' she says, gritting her teeth. ‘I hate you.'

I laugh, side-eyeing her, almost wanting to break her. I hope you don't.

‘But you know what, something I remember so clearly was you hovering over me, kissing my cheek very gently, just here,' I say, running a line along my stubble. ‘And your face lingered there for a moment, you stroked my hair, and it was gentle and affectionate and I think a lot about that kiss, too.'

‘I love kissing you,' she finally says.

‘You love it, do you?'

‘Don't put words in my mouth…'

‘Well, what else can I put in your mouth?'

‘Now that was too much,' she says, cackling.

She looks over at me and the temptation is too much. I take one of her curls and tuck it around her ear, looking her in the eye. And this is what makes her so attractive to me. The way she studies my face in a way that no one has before. I think of girls who used to tell me before that they thought I was relatively fit or that they liked my hair, but she seems to look beyond that. In fact, I don't think she's ever said anything like that to me, just comments on that sort of skin-deep appeal. She says it with her touch, her looks – a quiet appreciation of it all. Always a look like she's searching beyond all of that, too.

‘Have you ever thought about going back into botany?' she asks.

The question comes out of nowhere. I don't think it comes from a place of judgment and I'm not sure it's one of those statements that questions my direction, pushing me towards different goals. Maybe she is concerned about my age, maybe my line of work isn't worthy enough. The truth is, I'm studiously avoiding thinking about how there is an offer to return to that line of work, trying to gauge if it's right for me.

‘Why do you ask?'

She bites at her thumb nail. ‘I guess I'm just thinking about what ifs. Like, if life had been kinder to your brother, maybe you'd have tried a different line of work.'

‘Possibly. One day. I don't think too much about that. If the right job came along, then maybe I guess I'd take it up?'

She's quiet and looks down at her shoes.

‘I hope you would. I really do.' She takes one of my hands and does that thing where she wraps her hands around it, shaking it so it can appear civil, like a gesture between colleagues. It makes my chest ache and I think about Sarah's messages before and my response. I can't go now. I want to stay. I want to be here. With her.