The Learning Curve (12 page)

‘Anyway,’ she looked at all her notes, ‘haven’t you got stuff to do for Miss James?’

‘Yes,’ he said firmly. ‘But I decided it can wait.’

There was a pause as her notes went out of focus. How come he was able to host a party when she barely had time to answer her door? Maybe he was more cut out for this than she was.

‘You do realise,’ he broke the silence, ‘that you’re leaving me no choice but to spend my evening with Amanda. And she’s coming as a wicked witch.’

‘I know,’ said Nicky, ‘she told me today. I managed not to smile.’

‘Good,’ said Rob, ‘because if you had, she’d have turned you into a toad. Actually, I have a confession to make. I have a bit of a thing about witches.’

Nicky hesitated. What was he trying to say? She considered changing her mind and going to the party, but the thought of leaving her home was just too much. It had
turned into winter overnight – it was far too cold outside. Anyway, what would she wear?

God, Rob was right. She must be getting old.

‘Pete wants to speak to you,’ said Rob. ‘I’ve got to go to the Bat-oven.’

Pete came to the phone. He needed to make arrangements with Nicky about staying over that night. He and Ally always walked to Nicky’s place after Rob’s parties, because that way they were much closer to school for the next morning. It meant they could drink without having to worry about driving home afterwards, and then walk to work the next morning without having to get up as early as Rob. Also, it was fun.

‘He’s not so much Batman,’ said Pete, ‘as Twatman. You’ve got to come.’

‘Is Ally there yet?’

‘No. I thought she’d be there with you. Where is she?’

‘No idea.’

‘You sure you’re all right about us staying over at your place afterwards?’

‘Of course!’ said Nicky. ‘It’s tradition.’

‘Thanks,’ said Pete. ‘I’d stay here, but goblins can’t stay in Batman’s cave. It brings them out in spots. And there’s nothing worse than a spotty goblin.’

Nicky’s doorbell went. She made her goodbyes and ran down the stairs where she picked up the bowl of sweets on the hall table and opened her front door into the cold night air.

Three hours later, most of the trick-or-treating had stopped. Nicky was now sitting on the floor watching telly and eating the last few bloody fang chews. Her tongue felt
raw from eating so many pear drops. Rob had been right about staying in. (Was he always right? She began to wonder. It was a trait she’d only noticed since their promotion and it was beginning to irk her.) This year, for the first time, seeing her ex-pupils as lanky teenagers, all teeth and hips, like puppies with large paws, had brought home to her how fast life zoomed ahead. It was as if they were all playing giant snakes and ladders and her kids had got a lucky run of dice sending them up ladder after ladder. Meanwhile here she was, getting one or two on the dice or landing on a snake. For the first Hallowe’en she could remember, by nine o’clock she was feeling so low she was contemplating an early night. She wouldn’t need to stay up for Pete and Ally, they had a key. When the doorbell went, too late for trick-or-treaters and too early for Pete and Ally, she wasn’t sure whether to open it or not.

Slowly, she got up off the floor and plodded downstairs with her practically empty bowl of sweets. Two children – wrapped up so much that they were unidentifiable – stared at her, a weary mum standing behind them. The mum gave an apologetic smile, but the kids stared at her in silence, eyes wide, and then instead of saying ‘Trick or treat’, exploded into squeals of excitement.

‘Miss Hobbs! Miss Hobbs!’

She asked them all into her warm hallway, where she slowly worked out that she was looking at Oscar and Daisy.

Daisy was jumping up and down and screaming at her mother, ‘It’s Miss Hobbs! It’s Miss Hobbs!’ Oscar was smiling so wide it made him look like a different boy. After a night of seeing so many of her ex-kids, she found it all too easy to see into the future. She imagined Oscar all tall and
gangly and awkwardly beautiful, aged fourteen and full of life. It made her feel happy and sad at the same time.

The woman with them seemed to add some more effort to her smile.

‘Hi,’ said Nicky, shaking her hand. ‘I’m Nicky Hobbs.’

‘Lilith Parker,’ introduced Lilith. ‘Daisy’s mum.’

‘Oh! Hello, Daisy’s mum!’ cried Nicky. ‘Pleased to meet you!’ She stopped herself from saying how young she looked – Lilith must have had Daisy in her early twenties – and instead remarked on how similar mother and daughter’s eyes were.

‘People are always saying that.’ Lilith nodded with a grin. Daisy leant against her and Lilith stroked her daughter’s hair. It was always the ease with which parents and children touched each other that made Nicky envious. She handed Daisy and Oscar the bowl. They looked inside it. They saw five Murray Mints and one bon-bon.

‘Um,’ said Nicky, ‘I’m afraid I’ve eaten all the fangs.’ She turned to Lilith. ‘My jaw’s killing me.’

Before thinking, Lilith said, ‘I bet that’s what you tell all your kids.’

There was a fraction of a pause before Nicky let out a raucous, most unteacherly, laugh and then admitted, ‘You wouldn’t say that if you saw the other teachers I spend every day with.’

Lilith smiled. ‘Oh, come on, I’ve met Mr Pattison. He used to make Parents’ Evening almost enjoyable.’

Nicky laughed again, but it wasn’t quite as raucous this time.

‘I’m sorry we’re so late,’ said Lilith, ‘we’ve kept going in the hope of Oscar’s daddy turning up. We’re a bit out of our
usual stomping ground. In fact, I think we’ve done a five-mile radius. We’re a bit exhausted.’

‘I’m not,’ said Oscar stubbornly. ‘I’m fine.’

Nicky went all serious for a moment before asking suddenly, ‘Who would like some real hot chocolate and some toast?’ The children turned to Lilith, their faces suddenly urgent with pleading.

‘Can we? Please, Mum,’ whined Daisy.

‘Please,’ begged Oscar. ‘Then maybe Dad will still get to come.’

Lilith sighed and looked at Nicky. ‘That would be brilliant,’ she said. ‘Thanks. We haven’t had dinner. We’ve been going since six. The kids just wanted to keep going. Well, Oscar did.’

Nicky turned to them and forced a grin. ‘That’s perfect. If Oscar’s dad had come earlier, I’d never have seen you all.’

They followed her upstairs and into the kitchen.

So, thought Nicky, Oscar’s father had failed to turn up for the promised trick-or-treating. While her visitors abandoned their coats, scarves and hats and she hustled them into the kitchen, she asked as merrily as she could, addressing the room in general, where Oscar’s dad was. Oscar didn’t seem to hear her, but Lilith did.

‘Work, of course,’ she muttered. ‘Where else?’

As the milk heated and the bread toasted, Nicky got Daisy and Oscar to put the jam, butter and plates on the table while she spooned flakes of drinking chocolate and sugar into brightly coloured mugs. Then the children sat up at the small breakfast bar and got overexcited. Nicky and Lilith leant against the worktops, by the hob.

‘I hope you don’t mind me asking,’ began Nicky quietly,
while the children laughed and joked with each other, ‘but, do you know if Oscar’s dad is coming to Parents’ Evening? He’s the only parent in the whole class who hasn’t replied.’

Lilith rolled her eyes. ‘Typical. I’ll have a word. But I wouldn’t hold your breath. Last year, I had to go for him.’ She tutted. ‘The only thing Mark does – and he does it religiously – is go to the school’s AGM. It’s a typical accountant thing – thinks he can help somehow by listening to the treasurer’s report. He misses Sports Day, the Nativity Play, Parents’ Evening – everything because of work – but come rain or shine, he’s there at the lousy AGM. Men!’ she let out a stab of laughter. ‘Haven’t got a bloody clue.’ When Nicky didn’t respond, she added, ‘It’s OK. We’re . . . friends. He’s all right really.’

Nicky gave a quick smile. ‘It’s just a real shame that he can’t come.’

Lilith looked at her. ‘Is there a problem?’ she asked quietly.

Nicky made a face. ‘No, but,’ she lowered her voice, ‘in my experience, if a parent doesn’t come – repeatedly – there is usually a reason . . . possibly a reason we might need to know about.’

Lilith gave her a forced smile. ‘I can assure you, the only thing going on is work. Mark’s just been made a partner at one of the biggest firms in the City. Earns a complete fortune, but in return he has to sell life and soul to the firm. Before Helen died – Oscar’s mum,’ she lowered her voice even more, ‘it was their one major bone of contention. That Mark loved his job more than his family. But he always said he was doing it for her and Oscar. So although it may not look like he cares, he does and he thinks he’s doing the right thing.’

Nicky nodded and was about to ask how Oscar had got on with his mum when Oscar’s mobile phone beeped. He jumped up, shouting, ‘Daddy! Daddy! He’s coming!’ and flicked open his phone. Then silence.

‘Here we go,’ whispered Lilith, so only Nicky heard it. She handed Oscar his hot chocolate and toast. ‘What is it, sweetheart?’

Oscar’s head stayed down as he read the text. ‘It’s an all-nighter,’ he read in a monotone. ‘Dad says can I stay at yours tonight.’

Nicky saw Daisy raise her eyes to heaven and shake her head, like a long-suffering wife.

‘Of course!’ exclaimed Lilith. ‘We can all sing along to Busted in the car on the way back!’

Oscar stared at his drink.

An hour later, Nicky slunk off to bed. When the doorbell went, she leapt out and ran to the top of the stairs. She could see the shadows of Ally and Pete’s feet outside her front door. She could see from there that they were a bit drunk and wouldn’t be able to find their key, let alone put it in the lock. She ran down the stairs and opened the door. Ally was wearing a wizard’s cloak and hat. Pete was in full goblin costume, big spiky ears, even bigger spiky hat, fake nose, red cheeks, green tunic and tights. It cheered Nicky up no end.

‘Amanda didn’t come as a witch!’ shouted Ally, taking off her hat.

‘SHUSH!’ yelled Pete. ‘PEOPLE LIVE HERE!
NICKY
LIVES HERE!’ He pointed at Nicky. ‘SEE?’

Nicky beckoned them both in.

‘She came as a witch’s cat,’ spat Ally in the hall.

They went up to the kitchen, where Nicky made a pot of coffee and Ally and Pete slumped against the counter. Pete’s hat boinged almost as well as Nicky’s morning hair.

‘She looked like a complete and utter slut,’ said Ally. ‘It was porno-bloody-graphic. Everyone was there, by the way. I think you were the only one who wasn’t.’

Pete sighed. ‘I’ll never look at a cat the same way again. It’s most concerning.’

Ally swiped his arm and he tried swiping her back, but missed and almost fell over, which caused silent hysterics in both of them. After a while they stopped.

‘She wore skin-tight black leather boots up to here,’ listed Ally, touching her mid thigh, ‘fishnet tights, a corset and not much else. But more than that . . .’

Pete and Ally exchanged excited looks.

‘Yeah?’ asked Nicky.

‘
Something
happened,’ declared Ally importantly.

Pete gave a sad little belch. They took their mugs of coffee into the lounge.

‘What do you mean “something happened”? Weren’t you there?’ asked Nicky.

‘We were in the garden most of the evening playing cricket –’

‘
What?
’ demanded Nicky. ‘It’s freezing out there!’

‘
French
cricket,’ explained Pete.

‘Oh, right,’ said Nicky.

‘But when we came in afterwards,’ continued Ally, ‘
something
had definitely happened.’ Ally seemed to have suddenly sobered up. She looked at Pete.

‘You’ll have to find out for me,’ she told him. ‘Interrogate Rob for us.’

‘Knob off,’ he said. ‘He’s my mate.’ He turned to Nicky. ‘You do it. He’ll squeal for you.’

‘Do you think he got off with Amanda?’ asked Nicky, her voice even.

Pete looked perplexed. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said. Then he turned to Ally. ‘I thought he’d go for Martha.’

‘Martha!’ cried Ally. ‘Why?’

Pete shrugged. ‘Easy shag. Low maintenance. No commitment ’cos she doesn’t want to finish with her boyfriend.’

‘Ah, sweet,’ said Ally. ‘It’s enough to make you believe in fairy tales, isn’t it?’ She turned to Nicky. ‘Is the spare room made up?’ she asked.

‘Of course!’ said Nicky, thanking her lucky stars she hadn’t gone to the party. If only no one else had, it would have been better still. ‘No hanky-panky though. It’s not that kind of establishment.’

Pete turned to Ally. ‘Did you hear that, Alison? You keep your hands away from me, you randy bint.’

Ally sighed. ‘I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything. Goblins with fingers for legs really make me hot.’

Nicky went back to bed smiling, the sound of laughter coming from her spare room. She wondered idly as she fell asleep why she always held back from Rob’s Hallowe’en parties. Was it a subconscious ploy to play hard to get, to make her different from all the other girls? Or was it because she really didn’t want anything to happen between them and knew that, in that context, it would?

No, when it came down to it, she didn’t think it was anything as deep as that. Parties were overrated in her opinion. To be honest, she never really wanted to go to the obligatory work New Year’s Eve one either, but she
somehow always ended up there. It was easier to ignore Hallowe’en. And anyway, if she had gone out tonight, she’d have missed Oscar. She thought of Oscar, opened her eyes and, stretching out her arm, turned on the radio quietly for company in the dark.

THE NEXT MORNING
was Friday and Nicky walked into the staffroom with a determined step. She had left Ally and Pete still getting ready in her flat and had forgotten about them as soon as she entered her boudoir. Her first waking thought had been about Oscar and now that she was alone again, those thoughts returned. She decided to confront him about Parents’ Evening once and for all. And if he couldn’t give her a straight answer, she was going to try and contact his father.

But that was forgotten as soon as she walked into the staffroom. There was definitely something strange going on. She couldn’t put her finger on it but she felt a raw, almost fresh, atmosphere, as if the air had been spring-cleaned. Conversation was lucid and sharp; time seemed less relevant. It was almost heady. Had she stepped into Shangri-La? Then she remembered: Rob’s party. Amanda the witch’s cat.