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‘We were planning to, but everything’s got a little mad with the charity – it always does. Everything’s so chaotic at this end. Anyway, I’ll let you know for definite in a week or so. You’re still welcome to come here, of course.’
Sophie knew that was her mother’s code for ‘probably not’. She wished June would just say what she meant and have done with it, instead of pretending that they would finally come to see her flat over the festive period. Now that she was a thirty-four-year-old woman, surely it worked both ways? Why couldn’t they come to her for a change? Especially now that she was beginning to settle and finally had her own place.
‘Well, it was nice to talk to you, Mum.’
‘You too, love.’
‘Bye.’
‘Bye-bye.’ June yelled something inaudible, probably directed at Sophie’s long-suffering father, before she hung up.
June’s phone calls always felt like an ambush. There was no regularity or routine to them, and she’d pop up at the most inconvenient of times. Sophie rubbed a hand over her face, her eyes suddenly tired. Sometimes she wished she had a better relationship with them both; she hardly ever got the chance to speak to her father these days.
Slightly tipsy and frowning after the phone call, Sophie decided to put up the Christmas tree. It had been sitting in a box in the spare room since she’d moved in, and it was only a few days until December. Besides, it was the perfect way to cheer herself up.
She pulled the tree out of the box and spent some time smoothing and evening out the branches. The lights were next. She draped them, tiny white sparkling lights, all over the tree. Then, carefully, she unwrapped and placed each precious ornament evenly all over it. Each one was a memory – a visit to London with her very first boyfriend; a gift from her old school friend the Christmas when things had got really bad. Fleetingly, she wondered what this experience might be like if she found someone to share it with. They’d probably have a shared ornament that they’d bought together on their first date or on their first holiday away. Maybe they’d buy one each year for their children …
Stop it. Let’s not get carried away. Sophie reminded herself that compared to last Christmas when she and her mother had argued – again – this one, in her own wonderful flat, would be far better, even if her parents didn’t come to stay. In fact, it was more likely to be a good one if they didn’t turn up after all.
Chapter Four
It was duty day. The worst of all the days. Each week, all the staff at Cranswell Primary School had two allotted days, during which they would be on duty. It didn’t matter if it was raining or snowing or searing heat, on duty days you spent all of your lunchtime and break time out on the playground, supervising the children as they played. Supposedly, visibility meant that the children would refrain from committing any misdemeanours. In Sophie’s experience, they became more mischievous to get your attention – much more fun.
And so, for what felt like the millionth Wednesday lunchtime of the year, Sophie found herself wrapped up and shivering out in the playground as the little ones ran around her legs, screaming at her to join in with their game of Stuck in the Mud.
Taking the mickey, Kate waved through the staffroom window and exaggerated enjoying the smell of her coffee before sipping it, rubbing her huge tummy and licking her lips. Sophie looked around to make sure no children were looking and stuck her middle finger up. Kate blew her a kiss. Sophie laughed, shook her head and turned away.
It was freezing cold that day. The clouds had merged, a blanket of snow in the sky ready to drop at any moment. The heavy cloud cover eclipsed the light and it felt more like dusk than lunchtime. Sophie shivered, regretting her choice of skirt and tights. The hideous hi-vis jacket the school forced her to wear added little warmth. She pasted a hard smile on her face and folded her arms tightly to hold in the heat.
The weather was already odd enough that the children had arrived at school a little offbeat. Any time there was something different about a day, the children were like werewolves and, above all things, the weather had the biggest impact. Sophie pulled a sticker out of her hair, thinking back to the chaos of the morning; she hoped a mischievous child hadn’t ambushed her while she wasn’t looking.
Even now, the children ran and tumbled and skipped about the playground like insects. Despite walking in a straight line, Sophie had to hop to the side or lift her arms to let excitable children pass. Then, their unpredictability morphed into a pattern. They were all running towards the edge of the field – some more determined and excitable than others, but they were all headed in the same direction without a doubt.
Sophie walked over, a little more purpose in her step. As she’d guessed, there was a commotion coming from across the playground. As she neared, children from all over the field and playground ran over to see what was happening. Chants of ‘fight, fight, fight’ cut through the breeze. Sophie broke into a run and, when she reached the crowd, moved those who had gathered out of the way.
‘Excuse me!’ Sophie shouted. The children parted. They wanted to be seen to do the right thing, but didn’t want to move too far, secretly coveting a glimpse of the drama as it unfolded. Nearing the epicentre, Sophie caught a flash of two girls who were on the floor. Sophie switched into problem-solving mode, her mind racing as she worked out what to do and in what order. At her shouts, the girls stopped, sensing the dying noise and the presence of a teacher. They stood up sheepishly.
‘You two, with me,’ Sophie said, pointing at the two girls who had been scrapping on the floor. ‘Let’s go inside.’
Sophie walked the girls across the playground, one with her head up, a smug smile pasted across her face, the other head down, shuffling. The rest of the school dissolved back into their games and conversations. She marched the two girls into the classroom and sat them down on opposite sides of the room. Kate and Tom, the teaching assistant, came in.
‘We saw what happened from the window, Miss Lawson. Can we help?’ Tom asked.
‘Can you take Lily?’ Sophie nodded over to the girl who sat at the table, steely eyed. Lily was no stranger to a playground brawl and Sophie didn’t have the energy to reprimand her again so soon after the last time. ‘I’ll look after Cassie.’ The second girl sat on the other side of the room and had blood on her face. Sophie hadn’t worked out where it was coming from, but needed to look after that before she could do anything else.
‘No problem,’ Tom said. ‘Come on, Lily.’ He held his arm out to suggest Lily should come with him. She dutifully followed him down the corridor, but not without pulling a mean face in Cassie’s direction before she left.
‘Are you OK with Cassie, Miss Lawson? Do you need me to do anything?’ Kate asked.
‘It’s OK, thank you. I’m just going to do some first aid on Cassie. I’ll catch up with you later, Mrs Donovan.’
Kate left as Sophie went over to the big cupboard in the corner of the room and collected the first aid kit from its hook.
‘Let me look at you, Cassie.’ Sophie sat opposite her and moved her long blonde hair to one side. She took a ball of cotton wool and some water and wiped it over Cassie’s cheek. She’d received a nasty cut that was weeping blood. The girl sat up a little so that Sophie could reach her, but she didn’t make eye contact. Her eyes were hard, and she stared down at the table.
‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’ Sophie asked as she went about her work.
‘Not really.’ Cassie shook her head and then grimaced at the sting of the antibacterial wipe as Sophie applied it.
