Maeve Binchy - Evening Class

'That makes sense.'

'And they'll be pleased for you that you have got what you really wanted all along.'

As Aidan walked out the school gate he paused for a moment and felt its peeling paint and looked at the rusting locks. Tony was right, he wouldn't have known where to begin on a project like this. Then he looked at the annexe where he and Tony had decided the evening classes should be held. It had its own entrance, they wouldn't have to trek through the whole school. It had cloakrooms and two big classrooms. It would be ideal.

Tony was an odd guy, there were no two ways about it. He had even suggested to him that he come home and meet the family but

Tony had said not yet. Wait until September when the new term began, he had insisted.

'Who knows what will have happened by September?'

Those were his words. As odd as two left shoes, but quite possibly the best thing that could happen to Mountainview.

Inside the building Tony O'Brien inhaled deeply. He would smoke in his own office from now on, but never outside it.

He watched Aidan Dunne hold the gate and even stroke it lovingly. He was a good teacher and a good man. He was worth the sacrifice about the evening classes. All the bloody work that lay ahead, the fights with this committee and that Board, and the lying promises that the classes would be self-financing when everyone knew there wasn't a chance that they would be.

He sighed deeply and hoped that Aidan would handle it right at home. Otherwise, his own future with Grania Dunne, the first girl to whom he could even consider a real commitment, would be a very rocky future indeed.

'I have very good news,' Aidan said at supper.

He told them about the evening classes, the pilot scheme, the annexe, the funds at his disposal and how he would have Italian Language and Culture.

His enthusiasm was catching. They asked him questions. Would he have walls to put up pictures, posters, maps? Would these things remain up all week? What kind of experts should he invite to lecture? Would there be Italian cookery? And arias from operas as well?

'Won't you find this a lot of extra work as well as being Principal?' Nell asked.

'Oh no, I'm doing it instead of being Principal,' he explained eagerly and he looked at their faces. Nobody missed a beat, it seemed to them a perfectly reasonable alternative. And oddly it began more and more to seem that way to him too. Maybe that crazy Tony O'Brien was more intelligent than people gave him credit for. They talked on like a real family. What numbers would they need? Should it be more conversational Italian suitable for holidays? Or something more ambitious? The dishes were pushed aside on the table as Aidan made notes.

Later, much later it seemed, Brigid asked: 'Who will become Principal now if you're not going to do it?'

'Oh a man called Tony O'Brien, the Geography teacher, a good fellow. He'll do all right for Mountainview.'

'I knew it wouldn't be a woman,' Nell said, sniffing.

'Now there were two women, I believe, in the running, but they gave it to the right person,' Aidan said. He poured them another glass of wine from the bottle he had bought to celebrate his good news. Soon he would move into his room; he was going to measure it tonight for the shelves. One of the teachers at school did carpentry in his spare time, he would build the bookshelves and little racks for Italian plates.

They didn't notice Grania getting up quietly and leaving the room.

He sat in the sitting room and waited. She would have to come, just to tell him how much she hated him. That if nothing else. The doorbell rang and she stood there, eyes red from weeping.

'I bought a coffee machine,' he said. 'And some fine ground Colombian blend. Was that right?'

She walked into the room. Young but not confident, not any more. 'You are such a bastard, such a terrible deceitful bastard.'

'No, I'm not.' His voice was very quiet. 'I am an honourable man. You must believe me.'

'Why should I believe the daylight from you? You were laughing all the time at me, laughing at my father, even at the notion of a coffee percolator. Well, laugh as much as you like. I came to tell you that you are the lowest of the low, and I hope you are the worst I meet. I hope I have a very long life and that I meet hundreds and hundreds of people and that this is the very worst that will ever happen to me, to trust someone who doesn't give a damn about people's feelings. If there is a God then please, please God let this be the very lowest I ever meet.' Her hurt was so great he didn't even dare to stretch out a hand to her.

'This morning I didn't know you were Aidan Dunne's daughter. This morning I didn't know that Aidan thought he was getting the headship,' he began.

'You could have told me, you could have told me,' she cried.

Suddenly he was very tired. It had been a long day. He spoke quietly. 'No, I could not have told you. I could not have said:

'Your father's got it wrong, actually it's yours truly who is getting the job." If there was loyalty involved, mine was to him, my duty was to make sure he didn't make a fool of himself, didn't set himself up for disappointment, and that he got what was rightfully his - a new position of power and authority.'

' Oh I see.' Her voice was scornful. 'Give him the evening classes, a little pat on the head.'

Tony O'Brien's voice was cold. 'Well, of course, if that's the way you see it I can't hope to change your mind. If you don't see it for what it is, a breakthrough, a challenge, possibly the beginning of something that will change people's lives, most of all your father's life, then I'm sorry. Sorry and surprised. I thought you would have been more understanding.'

'I'm not in your classroom, Mr. O'Brien, sir. I'm not fooled by this shaking your head more in sorrow than in anger bit. You made a fool of my father and of me.'

'How did I do that?'

'He doesn't know that you slept with his daughter, heard of his hopes and ran in and took his job. That's how.'

'And have you told him all these things to make him feel better?'

'You know I haven't. But the sleeping with his daughter bit isn't important. If ever there was a one-night stand, that was it.'

'I hope you'll change your mind, Grania. I am very, very fond of you, and attracted to you.'

'Yeah.'

'No, not "Yeah". It's true what I say. Odd as it may seem to you, it's not your age and your looks that appeal to me. I have had many young attractive girlfriends and should I want company I feel sure I could find more. But you are different. If you walk out on me I'll have lost something very important. You can believe it or not as you will, but very truthfully that's what I feel.'

This time she was silent. They looked at each other for a while. Then he spoke. 'Your father asked me to come and meet the family but I said we should wait until September. I said to him that September was a long way away and who knows what could have happened by then.' She shrugged. 'I wasn't thinking of myself, actually I was thinking of you. Either you'll still be full of scorn and anger about me, and you can be out the day I call. Or maybe we will love each other fully and truly and know that all that happened here today was just some spectacularly bad timing.'

She said nothing.

'So September it is,' he said.

'Right.' She turned to go.

'I'll leave it to you to contact me, Grania. I'll be here, I'd love to see you again. We don't have to be lovers if you don't want to be. If you were a one-night stand I'd be happy to see you go. If I didn't feel the way I do I'd think that maybe it was all too complicated and it would be for the best that we end it now. But I'll be here, hoping you come back.'

Her face was still hard and upset. 'Ringing first, of course, to make sure you haven't company, as you put it,' she said.