Kate Field - A Dozen Second Chances

She focused on her screen and started typing before I could tell her that I was fully aware of the rules and regulations concerning data protection, and that whilst my desk may look untidy, there was nothing confidential on there. I walked back out to my cubbyhole and glanced over at the desk. Perhaps untidy was an understatement. How long had it been since I last sorted through the piles of stationery catalogues, magazines and junk mail? Mrs Armstrong had kept me too busy. Well, I would soon show Jo Blair that a clear desk policy held no fear for me …

It was lunchtime before I could catch up with Tina, and she did a double take when she saw me sitting behind my immaculate desk. I had reproduced Jo’s minimalist look to perfection, with the exception of the photo of Caitlyn beside the computer monitor. No amount of arm-folding or disapproving looks would persuade me to part with that.

‘Have you been fired?’ Tina asked, goggling at the expanse of clear desk between us. Not even a paperclip besmirched the tidiness now. Of course, the desk drawers were bulging, but Jo couldn’t take control of those too, could she? ‘Have you managed to irritate our new boss already?’

‘It wouldn’t take much, would it? She’s not fired me yet, but I’m wondering if it’s only a matter of time. We’ve worked together for one morning, and so far, she’s objected to the state of my desk, the smell of my peppermint tea, that I didn’t divert my phone when I nipped away for two minutes to go to the loo, and that she doesn’t like the way the computer files are labelled and arranged. She’s also told me that I won’t need to do any more typing for her, as she has a digital dictation system on her computer, which is more efficient. If I hear the word efficient one more time, I’ll …’

The door to the corridor was flung open and Jo strode in, abruptly cutting off my rant.

‘The lunch system is inefficient,’ she said. ‘There’s a queue halfway down the corridor, and staff members are wasting time having to police it. Make a note for the next staff meeting.’

I nodded but didn’t move, and she continued to stare at me until I reluctantly opened a drawer a crack to try to remove a notebook and pen without her noticing the untidy state of the drawer.

‘Can I help you? Mrs Wade, isn’t it? History?’ she said to Tina. Assuming Tina had only come around to gossip, I began to give a spurious excuse for her presence, but she waved at me to stop.

‘I have some excellent news, Ms Blair,’ she said, in a fawning manner that I thought unworthy of her. She held up a sheet of paper that I hadn’t noticed before. ‘The popular TV archaeologist Paddy Friel has agreed to come and give a talk one evening. It’s excellent publicity for the school, and a great enrichment event for the students.’

‘We won’t be able to fit it in,’ I said, glaring at Tina. How could she go ahead with this, after what I had told her about Paddy? ‘Next term is too busy already, with the prize-giving and end-of-year musical evenings, and the hall will be set up for exams for most of the time.’

‘I know all that, so I begged him nicely and he’s agreed to come in the last week of this term. Isn’t that great?’

The last week of term? There were only two weeks left until we broke up for the Easter holidays, which meant Paddy would be coming in next week. That was too short notice to arrange an event with anyone, let alone with someone I didn’t want to see within twenty miles of here.

‘That doesn’t give us time to organise it,’ I said. ‘It’s not just a question of advertising the event, but we need to make arrangements for school to be open late, and for staff members to stay behind … Think of the costs for the small benefit it might have.’

I thought that pointing out potential financial implications would bring Jo over to my side, although it seemed incredible that we were battling over her. But Tina sent me a smile full of mischief.

‘I’ve thought of all that. We could have it a week on Wednesday. There’s a Year 10 Information Evening at six, so we could invite Paddy to start his talk at seven-thirty. As the school will be open late anyway, and staff present, it would be an efficient time to do it. You could include it in the newsletter tomorrow.’

I had to smile, and acknowledge her skill, even though my heart sank as Jo nodded in agreement.

‘It’s an excellent idea, Mrs Wade, well done. We can charge for tickets and drinks, to make a profit from the event. This is exactly what we need to see – initiative and positivity from the staff.’

I didn’t know why she looked at me when she said that: I could be extremely positive when I chose. Just not where Paddy Friel was concerned. I was still smarting over the whole business at the end of the day when I met Tina at my car to share the drive home.

‘You deserve to walk,’ I said, unlocking the door and throwing my bag onto the back seat. ‘How could you have arranged this with Paddy behind my back? You knew I didn’t want him here.’

‘But you heard how good he was at the other school. We hardly ever have events like that here. We’re too out of the way to draw big names. Why should our students always miss out? If it inspires one of them it will be worth it.’

I shrugged and reversed out of my space with unnecessary speed. She was right, and I couldn’t argue with her. I just wished it had been anyone but Paddy who was offering this golden opportunity.

‘Besides, you don’t need to come,’ she added. ‘He won’t turn up until long after you’ve gone home. If you really don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. Forget you ever heard about the event.’

If only it were that easy.

*

Caitlyn telephoned at the weekend, brimming with excitement about her new life in Paris and her job as an au pair. Everything was fun and interesting; the family she was working for were lovely, and the children she was looking after were adorable. The weather, the food, the flowers, the improvement in her accent already … she was enthusiastic about every detail.

My heart ached to hear her. She was so happy – happier than I ever remembered hearing her before. Was that my fault? Had I held her back, in our quiet Lancashire town, taping up wings that were twitching with the urge to fly? Had I held her close, when she wanted to be set free? Protected her, when she needed to test herself and learn from her own mistakes? I had done what I thought was best, for Faye’s sake, but it was agonising to think that I might have promoted her safety above her happiness.

‘How are you getting on with the Be Kind to Yourself vouchers?’ Caitlyn asked at last, when even her enthusiasm for Parisian life was exhausted. ‘You’ve only sent me one so far.’

‘There will be another one on the way soon.’ I laughed. ‘You might not think it exciting enough. I had to buy some new running clothes, and I didn’t go for the cheapest own brand this time.’

In a moment of mouse madness, I had clicked on a hi-tech outfit that apparently could breathe, sweat and possibly even do the running for me, or that’s what I expected for the price. It was due to arrive on Monday, in time for the first running group meeting on Tuesday. After a sustained campaign of persuasion from Lexy, I’d given in and agreed to lead it for her. I was trying not to worry about what I had let myself in for.

‘Is it going to make you look young, gorgeous and athletic – unlike the baggy things you’ve worn in the past?’

‘I don’t think it can perform miracles, even at that price.’ Caitlyn’s laughter floated down the line. I closed my eyes, and for a bewitching second it could have been Faye on the other end of the phone. ‘I thought I ought to look the part, if I’m leading the group. That’s if anyone turns up. Lexy has set up a Facebook event, but no one has signed up yet. No one has even said that they’re interested.’