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“Mm. I love it there.”
“Have you got citizenship here?”
“Yeah, because Mum is British.”
“Ah of course. What age kids do you teach?”
“It’s called Reception or Year Zero—after nursery, which is what they call kindy here, and before Year One. Kids start school here the year they turn five, so some of them are five in September, when the school year starts, and others have only just turned four in August.”
“Still babies then really.”
“Oh yeah.”
“How many in a class?”
“I have twenty-one this year, and I have a teaching assistant to help. It’s a tiny school, just over a hundred pupils. It’s a state-funded faith school.”
His eyebrows rise. “Christian?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t realize that was still a thing.”
“Oh, over a third of the twenty thousand funded state schools in England are faith schools.”
“Wow, really?”
“Yes, I know it’s strange for us because religion isn’t part of New Zealand’s school curriculum. Almost two-thirds of the faith schools are Church of England, and a third are Catholic, and a few follow other religions. Ours is a lot more relaxed than some because our headmistress is very open-minded. Children of any religion—or no religion—can attend, although priority is given to Christian families in the first instance.”
“Do you teach Creationism?” he asks curiously.
“No, by law schools have to teach Evolution as part of the science curriculum. We also teach about other religions in the Religious Education lessons, although obviously we concentrate on Christianity. We have a close connection to the church up the road, to encourage children to feel part of the community, and we have a daily collective act of worship.”
“I didn’t think your family was religious,” he says. “Huxley’s not, anyway.”
“No, Dad’s not. Mum’s English, as you know, and she was christened. She didn’t go to church in New Zealand, but she used to tell me some of the Bible stories. I was hardly steeped in it, though, and I was surprised to get the job. I got on very well with the headmistress, though. This is her house.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, she rents it out to teachers, and it just happened to be available when I started. She liked what I said at my interview about my teaching ethos.”
He tips his head to one side. “Which is?”
“The importance of friendship, justice, courage, perseverance, and forgiveness, and the value of human life.” I flush. “It sounds a bit pretentious, but—”
“Not at all. Religion may depend on morality, but morality doesn’t necessarily depend on religion, right? I would imagine it’s as important to have teachers with a strong moral code in faith schools as it is to have those with a religious background.”
“That’s pretty much what Lucy—my headmistress—says.” I warm all the way through at his understanding.
He leans his head on a hand. He looks super tired.
“Come on,” I say, picking up his plate and mug and taking them out to the kitchen. “Bedtime. We can talk in the morning.”
I turn the light on to illuminate the stairs before blowing out the candles. He picks up his bag and follows me up the curving staircase. “There’s the bathroom,” I say, pointing to the right. “This is your room. I’m sorry it’s so small.”
“I could sleep in a cardboard box,” he says, going in and dropping his bag on the floor. “It looks great. And it smells nice.”
I lean on the door jamb. He slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and we study each other with a smile.
