Page 32

Adam

‘Can you see what I mean if we start with number one here?’

I spin around. My pupils are gazing at Sophie’s creation instead of muttering to each other.

Mr Cross is sitting at the back with a notepad, providing feedback for the senior leadership team.

My confidence is sky high despite only learning about the spot check this morning.

I feel capable of anything! I had a great day at the zoo with Sophie and Wren and made huge inroads with my dissertation last night: the end is finally in sight!

I’m also having a brilliant start to the week.

Wren smiled and waved back for the first time ever when I dropped her off at school and I’ve remembered to book a plumber to fix the tumble dryer.

My gaze rests on Khalid, who’s frowning as if he’s concentrating rather than daydreaming. I had a word with him about his behaviour before the lesson.

‘Can you come here and work out the sequence?’ I smile encouragingly at him.

Khalid drags himself up and shuffles to the front.

‘If we add these numbers in row two, what does it make this?’ I gesture at the fabric triangles.

‘Two?’

‘Yes! And below?’

‘That’s three, four, five.’ He continues counting as I point to the descending rows.

‘Exactly! Brilliant. Do you understand now?’

Khalid smiles sheepishly. ‘Yeah, this makes it much clearer, sir.’

I grin at him. ‘I thought so!’

Mr Cross nods approvingly from the corner.

‘That’s why I asked my friend if I could borrow her quilt,’ I say as Khalid returns to his seat.

‘Is she your girl friend?’ he calls out.

Titters ripple across the classroom.

‘No! Well, she was . . . but . . .’

Mr Cross coughs loudly.

‘That’s enough,’ I say sternly. ‘Continue with the questions on the whiteboard. If I hear chattering, I’ll set more homework.’

Silence descends. I return to my seat and pretend I’m recalibrating test scores so Mr Cross doesn’t think I’m skiving. When the bell rings for the end of school, my students troop out uncharacteristically quietly. Khalid slouches past and winks.

‘Hope you win back your ex-girlfriend, sir,’ he mutters. ‘You’re not so bad.’

I pretend I haven’t heard and reshuffle my books until Mr Cross comes over.

‘Well done, Adam. That’s a big improvement since I last sat in. It was an inspired idea to bring along a practical object to make the class more accessible for everyone.’

‘Thank you! I enjoyed the lesson.’

For once, I’m not just telling him what I think he wants to hear. Getting through to pupils like Khalid, and helping them understand maths, is more rewarding than I ever expected during training.

‘Are you coming to the pub later?’ he asks. ‘We’re meeting at the Old Market Tavern from five thirty. There are wild, unsubstantiated rumours Roger might buy a round.’

‘I can’t, sorry. Me and Wren have our first sewing lesson at six.’

‘Ah, I see. Another time, perhaps.’ His gaze rests on Sophie’s bedspread. ‘Best of luck with your quilt lady!’

At the dry cleaners, we spend twenty minutes stitching our 13-sided shapes, the way Sophie’s taught us, when Wren declares she’s ‘starving’ despite having tea at her after-school club.

Sophie slips out to buy takeaway pizzas while we finish our sections.

Wren’s sitting next to me, concentrating on making neat stitches.

‘This is fiddly diddly!’ she says, shaking her wrist.

‘Shall I finish yours?’

‘No, I want to carry on.’ She twirls her hand before pointing at the window. ‘Someone’s outside.’

An elderly man puts his hand against the glass and peers in. He shuffles along and tries the door handle, tapping it with his walking stick.

I shake my head and mouth: ‘It’s closed!’

He raps again. I head over and unlock the door, pulling it open.

‘Sorry, we’re—’

‘May I come in?’ the man asks. ‘I need to give my friend, Sophie, something, and Chico could do with a bowl of water.’

‘Oh . . . right. Sure. She won’t be long.’

I open the door wider and he steps inside with a small white dog on a lead.

‘Perfect!’ He tips his hat. ‘I’m Walter and this is Chico. You must be Adam, of course.’

‘Erm, that’s right!’

I shake his hand, wondering how they know each other. Sophie’s talked about me, which must be a good sign, surely? I particularly appreciate the of course . These two words have potential and make me sound like a foregone conclusion, rather than a horrible mistake.

‘And this is my daughter, Wren.’

‘It’s lovely to meet you both!’

Wren flashes a shy smile. His dog trots over and sits at her feet, staring up expectantly. He wags his tail furiously as she pets him.

‘What did you say he’s called?’ I ask.

‘Chico – after Einstein’s dog, but, sadly, not as clever. He’s scared of garden gnomes.’

‘Why?’ Wren asks.

‘Who knows? Chico refuses to tell me. He’s stubborn like that, but he loves you!’

‘And I love dogs,’ Wren states. ‘But Adam won’t let me have one.’

‘Hmmm. I said I’d think about it... Perhaps at some point in the future.’

My neck feels hot. I hope Wren hasn’t noticed my ‘tell’... I can’t fit in caring for an animal on top of everything else.

Walter eases himself down on to a stool. ‘May I get that bowl of water for Chico and, perhaps, a cup of tea while you’re there? Nice and strong. Two sugars.’

‘Erm . . . sure!’

I retreat to the back and find a small kitchen. I send Sophie a WhatsApp, saying her bossy friend Walter is here. Within seconds, her reply flashes up.

What has he told you?

Her message throws me momentarily.

His dog is scared of garden gnomes?!

Yes, bizarre! On way back.

Her reaction is odd. Has she said something about me to Walter? If I grill him, will I unearth a compliment or two? I find a bowl in one of the cupboards, fill it with water, and make mugs of tea. When I return, Walter is examining Wren’s sewing, while she plays with Chico.

‘This is beautiful,’ he says, holding the patchwork pieces. ‘Wren tells me you’re making the quilt together?’

‘Trying to! Obviously, Sophie’s amazing at quilting, and Wren’s great at stitching. But I’m not sure what I bring to the table. I’ll never be the most talented sewer.’

‘Who cares? You’re doing this as a family and will have created something remarkable and lasting at the end.’

‘I hope so, if I don’t manage to ruin everything!’

‘You couldn’t even if you tried,’ he replies quietly.

I’m about to quiz him when Sophie bursts through the door, panting and clutching pizza boxes. She shoots a sharp look at Walter, her chest heaving.

‘I wasn’t expecting you tonight. Is everything okay?’

‘It’s perfect! I was passing and saw the light on.’ He points to his lapel. ‘You said to pop in and get this tear repaired. It’s good timing. Chico has made a new friend, and the lovely Adam has given me a cuppa. Now it appears I might get a slice of pizza.’

Her shoulders relax. ‘How can I possibly refuse you?’

‘Never!’

‘How do you two know each other?’ I ask.

‘We see each other on our walks and Sophie was kind enough to help me with a problem,’ he replies. ‘We’ve since become firm friends.’

She gives him a kiss on the cheek before pulling out paper plates from behind the counter.

‘We have margherita, Hawaiian or pepperoni,’ she announces.

‘I think I’ll try Hawaiian. You only live once.’ Walter holds out his plate.

Sophie’s hand trembles as she passes him a slice, before dishing out margheritas and pepperonis for Wren and me.

‘Remember, no touching any of the clothes, otherwise Bernard will kill me!’ She locks gaze with Walter. ‘This needs to be our secret.’

We chat while Sophie mends Walter’s coat and finishes off the shapes we’ve been sewing.

Walter discusses Chico’s daily routine, the mechanics of Clifton Suspension Bridge, and his family’s love of surfing.

He shows us photos of his son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren on the beach in Sydney.

I’d love to stay longer, but Wren is stifling a yawn.

I throw the plates and napkins into a plastic sack and collect the pizza boxes.

‘I’ll take the rubbish out. Then we should head home, Wren. It’s school tomorrow and I have work to do.’

‘Can I come to the bins with you?’ she asks eagerly. ‘Chico’s told me he wants a walk.’

‘You’ve learned to speak Dog already?’ Walter raises an eyebrow. ‘That was quick. You’re obviously a natural.’

‘I understand everything. Chico says he wants to chase a pigeon.’

Walter rolls his eyes dramatically. ‘That definitely sounds like Chico.’ He attaches the lead and passes it to Wren.

‘He’s your responsibility. Do you promise you’ll look after him for me?’

‘If he runs away, I’ll race after him,’ she says, nodding seriously.

‘It’s probably best to stay with your dad and neither of you run off.’

‘Okey-dokey.’

Sophie directs us to the recycling bins and Wren follows me outside with Chico.

My cheeks warm with pleasure. Even though she obviously likes Chico’s company far more than mine, she’s never volunteered to spend time with me before.

We walk side by side along the pavement to the alleyway, instead of our usual single file.

‘Have you enjoyed meeting Walter?’ I ask.

‘Yes! He’s nice, like a grandpa. I wish I had one.’

‘I know. It’s a pity you never had a chance to meet yours.’

‘Would I have liked him?’

‘Of course!’

Red splodges spread up my neck as I throw the bags into the bins.

Dad regularly said he was proud, but I can’t remember him hugging or playing with me.

Would he have dished out more affection to Wren?

And would Dad have admired me for looking after her?

Or would he consider me a failure for temporarily becoming a maths teacher?

I remember what he said on his deathbed and my spirits plummet. I know it would be the latter.

‘So can we?’ Wren asks.

‘Erm, what?’

‘Get a dog? I’ve proved I can look after Chico.’

I open my mouth to reply, but she talks rapidly.

‘ And before you say you’ll think about it, can we visit Grandma? I love her dogs. Looking after them would be good practice for getting one of our own.’

‘Hmmm. I’m thinking about that too.’

Wren harrumphs. ‘ Hmmm . I’ll think about brushing my teeth and going to sleep tonight.’

‘Ha ha!’

She grins back. We reach the shop and through the glass I catch a glimpse of Sophie and Walter embracing tenderly. She pulls away and looks up at him, talking earnestly. They both jump apart when I push open the door, making the bell ring.

‘Is everything all right?’ I ask tentatively.

Sophie’s eyes glisten. ‘Yes! We were discussing the coat repair.’

That’s odd. I could swear she’s wiping away a tear as she turns her back.

‘Before I forget, I must give you these.’ Walter pulls out cards from his pocket. ‘I’m having a get-together this Saturday.’

He gives one to Sophie and hands me another. It’s an invitation to a private all-day party at The Wave, a surfing leisure park in nearby Easter Compton.

‘Oh wow!’ I exclaim. ‘I’ve always fancied visiting. The reviews look amazing.’

‘In that case, there’s no time like the present.’ Walter fixes me with a surprisingly hard gaze. ‘Will you come?’

‘Me?’

‘You and Wren. And Sophie, of course.’

I gape at him. It’s an incredibly generous offer, particularly since we’ve only just met.

‘Erm. I don’t know... What do you think, Wren? Do you fancy learning how to bodyboard? We’ll get your stitches out tomorrow, and your hand should be fine to get wet.’

‘Ooh yes!’

She gives me another big smile. I’ve been collecting them today, much like the awards I used to win at school, except these make me feel far, far happier.

‘Sophie? I mean... can you show Wren your moves?’

I look at her expectantly. We can’t exactly turn up at her friend’s party if she’s not going.

‘I haven’t been surfing for a while,’ she says quietly.

‘Then you need to practise,’ Walter insists.

Her bottom lip trembles. ‘Of course I’ll be there for you. I wouldn’t miss it.’

I glance at Wren, who nods vigorously.

‘In that case, count us in too!’ I reply.

Walter claps his hands together, smiling broadly. ‘Excellent.’

‘Is it your birthday?’ I ask. ‘Should we bring anything?’

I’m racking my brains for what to buy. Whisky? Rum? I have no idea what his interests are beyond dogs and surfing.

‘Oh no! That’s not until December, and I don’t require a sausage.

The best gift will be a big party for the people I care about.

After all, what else do I have to spend money on at my age?

’ His hand shakes as he looks down at one of his invites.

‘I’ve hired the venue for the day and don’t want it to be full of oldies like me! Bring as many friends as you want.’

‘Really?’

‘Whoever makes you happy,’ Walter replies.

Sophie sucks in her breath. She’s probably pondering who to invite.

‘I have mates from my teacher training course. I’m sure they’d all love a day out... Our nanny and her friends would probably come if you want to get numbers up and Wren could ask her classmates.’ I look at him uncertainly. ‘But only if that’s all right?’

‘The more the merrier. We need to fill the place!’

Wren jumps up and down with joy. This could be exactly what she needs to bond with her friends and make new ones. I’ll post my first ever message in the parents’ WhatsApp group.

‘What about your son?’ Sophie interjects. ‘Have you spoken to Harry? Is he coming over with his family?’

Walter looks thoughtful as he rests both hands on top of his walking stick.

‘Harry and Maddy are big surfers, which is why I booked this place. We bought tickets the last time they visited, and the kids loved it. We couldn’t get them out of the water and the eldest, James, said he wished we could have the place to ourselves for a day.’

Sophie blinks. ‘They’ll definitely be there? All of them?’

‘It’s tricky for Harry and Maddy to get time off work and take the older kids out of school. I arranged it last-minute this weekend on what you might call a whim.’

‘Didn’t you say your son lives in Sydney?’ I say, laughing. ‘I’d imagine that’s even trickier!’

It’s a big ask to expect anyone to hop on a plane and travel to the other side of the world for a party, especially with a week’s notice. It isn’t even a birthday, let alone a landmark one.

‘But they must come!’ Sophie cries. ‘You did tell them, Walter?’ She arches an eyebrow.

‘It’s an ongoing conversation.’ He waves his hand vaguely. ‘I think Harry understands. We shall see. I remain hopeful, as ever.’

‘You have to make it happen,’ she says sternly.

I look from one to the other, mystified, as something unspoken passes between them. I have absolutely no idea what’s going on or why Sophie thinks this party is so important.

‘Sometimes all you can do is wait and see,’ Walter replies. ‘You have to play all your cards and hope everything works out for the best.’