Teacher's Pet by Shelley Ellerbeck Page B

“Anything you like.”
    “You and…” Her voice tailed off.
    “Yes?  Me and…?”
    She opened her mouth and again the wrong words came out.
    “Sport.  Do you do any sport?”
    “Sport?  Me and sport?”  He grinned.  “I run, swim and play ice hockey.  Not all at the same time, of course.  And the ice is a bit thin on the ground over here.”  He ran his fingers through his hair, his expression thoughtful for a moment, as though there was a detail he was trying to remember.  “Was that your question?”
    “Yes,” she lied, opening the door of the car.  “Come on.  If you play your cards right, I’ll buy you an ice cream.”
    “You know how to tempt a man,” he said, locking the car and following her down the path towards the lake.
     
     
    A little later, Allie and Paul were sitting outside the Lido pub.  Allie was sipping a glass of wine, Paul a coffee.  Allie marvelled at the fact that Paul looked so healthy, yet ingested so much caffeine.
    “In Canada, it’s stronger,” he remarked.
    “But doesn’t it keep you awake?”
    “No.  Nothing keeps me awake.”
    “Nothing?”  Allie smiled at him.
    He grinned.
    “Nothing.  Not even- ”
    “Allie!  What a surprise!”  A shrill voice cut through their conversation.  “Fancy seeing you here!”
    Allie looked up and saw Eleanor, impeccable in a crisp linen suit, designer sunglasses and a silk scarf.  Relaxed, yet casual.  Just by looking at her Allie knew she had spent a small fortune achieving this effect.  Jocasta and Primrose, dressed equally tastefully in expensive-looking pink and yellow dresses, were playing on the swings by the lakeside.
    “And who is this?” she asked, the sun glinting on her subtly-highlighted red hair as she leaned down to kiss Allie.  She pushed back her sunglasses to reveal her China-blue eyes, framed with thick, dark lashes.  “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”  She held out a petite, French-manicured hand to Paul.  Glancing first at Allie, he took it and gave it a cursory shake.
    “Eleanor, this is Paul Richmond, the boys’ new teacher.  Paul, this is Eleanor.”  Allie shot him a meaningful glance.  “James’ partner.”
    “Nice to meet you, Mr. Richmond.”
    Paul withdrew his hand quickly and nodded.
    “Hi.”
    Eleanor let her eyes linger on Paul a little longer than was necessary, before turning back to Allie.
    “So, how are you?”  Her voice was bright and brittle.  “And your job?  Still at the college?”
    Allie nodded.
    “Still there.”
    “Good for you.”  She turned back to Paul.  “And how are you finding Mayfield School, Mr. Richmond?  I hope the little horrors aren’t playing you up too much?”
    “No, not yet anyway.”  Allie noticed a twinkle in Paul’s eyes as he continued.  “And if they misbehave, I just lock them in the stock cupboard.”
    Allie smiled.  Eleanor’s eyes widened, just a little.
    “Is that allowed in state schools?”
    “It’s what we do back home.”
    “But, surely… ”  She paused.  “You’re having me on, aren’t you, Mr. Richmond?”
    Paul met Allie’s gaze briefly.  She tried to read the emotion in his eyes.  She concluded it was bewilderment, tinged with incredulity.
    “Don’t mind him, Eleanor,” she said quickly.  “How are the girls?”
    “Still recoverin g from Goa.  What a nightmare.  Such poverty.  Dreadful.”  She pulled down her glasses as the rays of the setting sun bounced off the water, making her squint.  “Next year it’s the Seychelles.”  Paul appeared to be trying hard not to laugh.  “At least you know where you are with the Seychelles.  I mean, you don’t want to see beggars on holiday, do you?”
    Paul rose to his feet abruptly.
    “I don’t suppose the beggars want to see rich tourists either,” he said, rapidly clearing the table.  “Another Molotov cocktail, Allie?”
    She suppressed a laugh.  She noticed he made no more eye contact with Eleanor, despite the