School Run by Sophie King Page A

could make her feel truly at ease with herself. It wasn’t just the way he always called her Gorgeous, even though she knew perfectly well she wasn’t. It was that he had known her longer than Derek and, more importantly, he understood. He never told her to stop worrying like Derek did. He just accepted that that was the way she was.
    ‘Not too brilliant.’ Her voice cracked.
    Instantly his voice was filled with concern. ‘Why?’
    She gave him a brief run down. Funny, she didn’t even feel embarrassed about the physical bit – not as embarrassed as she’d felt with her husband that morning. But she’d always been able to do that with Gus – and he with her – she could come straight out with an intimate subject that most married women couldn’t discuss with anyone other than their husbands. For his part, Gus told her details about his relationships with other women, which flattered her and – if she was honest – made her wonder what it would be like to be in their place.
    ‘Really? What does the doctor say?’
    ‘I can’t get an appointment until tomorrow.’
    ‘Well, for God’s sake, go to a specialist not just some ordinary GP.’
    ‘Mine’s very good.’
    ‘You do have health insurance, don’t you?’
    Pippa swallowed. Derek didn’t believe in that kind of thing and, besides, money was always tight. There never seemed to be enough with two children and the supermarket bill and the council tax and all the other outgoings. Derek was also what her aunt called a ‘careful’ man. Some people, Gus included, translated that as mean.
    ‘No. But my GP is good. Really. Don’t worry.’
    ‘Well, I will. Of course I will. You’ve got to ring me as soon as you come out of that place. Promise? Is Derek with you?’
    ‘No. He had to go to work.’
    ‘I see.’ Gus’s disapproval was almost tangible.
    ‘But I’ve got a friend here.’
    ‘I hope it’s a woman. I don’t want any competition.’
    Pippa felt better. Gus and she always flirted like this but each knew it couldn’t mean anything.
    ‘Well, I’ll be waiting for your call tomorrow,’ he said. ‘You can get me on the mobile.’
    ‘Must go now. Harry’s waiting.’
    ‘I thought you said it was a woman.’
    ‘It is. Harriet. You know. Talk tomorrow.’
    ‘Can’t wait.’
    Pippa ran down the stairs, aware she’d left Harriet longer than she’d meant to. Her friend looked up from the paper.
    ‘You really don’t look well, you know. You’re awfully flushed.’
    Pippa turned her back to put on the kettle and hide the glow on her face that she always felt after speaking to Gus.
    He made her feel so good about herself; desirable – in a way that Derek never did. ‘I’m fine,’ she said evenly. ‘Now, let’s have that tea, shall we? I’m desperate.’
     

 
     
    6
     
    KITTY
     
    ‘This is Capital Radio and . . .’
     
    Let’s see. First lesson with year nine. Great – that’s Bruce, God help me. Must remember to maintain eye contact when giving instructions – vital for hyperactive kids – and make sure he’s not by the window again (too much distraction). Then science with Mrs Griffiths’s class if she’s still ill. Note: get Leonora and Natalie to wear labels indicating which is which. After the coffee break it’s year ten. Oh, no, that means Kieran . . . Lunchbreak duty, followed by – if I survive – Othello with year thirteen. Note Two: take black trousers to change into after school for Big Date. Who am I kidding? Mark (that was his name, wasn’t it?) really isn’t my type – far too loud and flash. It’s not that I’m being picky. It’s more that I’ve seen too many Mr and Mrs Wrongs. School is full of them, and I’m talking parents and teachers. All I want is Mr Right. Someone who comes up to scratch in my marking book. Someone’s who’s ten out of ten and not seven or eight. Like Mandy says, I could do better. If I really tried.
     
    ‘It’s coming up to eight fifteen. The American schoolboy in