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She caught sight of Agatha’s curly head bouncing around a makeshift football game and sighed.
Life just seemed so full of problems. Agatha. Money. Although she supposed that Jules was going to help the financial situation. But then Jules was a problem too. Was she really going to be able to learn the entire song? Billie still had her doubts.
Add into the pile the fact that Billie still had no plans for the future and was still hiding out in her parents’ house hoping that no one else in Whitebridge actually noticed that she was back, and it was tough to see how things could get that much better.
“Playground duty is far easier with a cup of coffee,” Ava said, appearing by her side with two steaming cups. “Didn’t anyone tell you that? It’s a teaching secret.”
“Thanks,” said Billie, gratefully accepting the cup.
“Sanjit Chaudhri, your finger will get stuck if you put them up there,” Ava barked. A small boy shame-facedly removed his finger from his nose. “So, how are things going?”
“Fine,” said Billie automatically.
“She says with a face like a wet weekend. Things can’t be that bad, surely?”
Billie saw Agatha again, grinning like a maniac this time, running with her hands over her head having just scored a goal. “Actually, there is something.” Anything to avoid the personal conversation she was sure Ava wanted to have.
“Ask away.” Ava leaned back against a wall, sipping her coffee and watching the children.
“What would you do if you knew something about a child and… well, and you weren’t sure about telling that child’s parents?”
Ava blew out a breath. “That’s a difficult one. For the most part, I’d say that your duty of care stretches only as far as the front gate. Which means that, again, for the most part, you have a responsibility to tell that child’s parents whatever it is that you know.”
Billie could feel her face fall. She’d thought as much. She had no choice, she had to tell Agatha’s parents about her talent. But she knew how easily the child’s life could be changed, ruined even. Looking back she could see how her own parents could have handled things differently, better.
Not that she’d hated music, far from it. But now that the music was gone, she had nothing else, at least that’s how it felt.
Ava laid a hand on her arm. “I’d like to add to that though, if you don’t mind.”
“What?”
Ava leaned back again. “I find that most children have a very good grip on what they like and don’t like, what they’re good at and what they’re not. And if I find that a child has, say, an unexpected talent, the very first thing I do is talk to the child herself. See how she feels about things. That tends to have weight in how exactly I broach a subject to parents.”
Billie nodded. That made sense. Maybe Agatha hated music, she hadn’t exactly asked. Maybe she had no feelings at all and Billie could simply recommend some piano lessons or something and things could go slowly. There was no need to advertise her as a musical genius.
“You can’t hide away.”
“What?” Billie said, turning to Ava.
Ava was smiling at her in a small, sympathetic way. “You heard me. I see you, I see that you’ve got pain. I’m not pretending to know what about or anything else, but I’ve been in your position, I think. At least somewhat. And hiding away doesn’t solve anything.”
“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” Billie said briskly.
“Caroline DuLac, get that dirty tennis ball away from your mouth!” Ava said. She sighed. “Okay, you have a right to be offended if you think that I’m interfering. I probably am interfering. But here’s the thing. A few years ago I came to Whitebridge feeling like my world had ended. It wasn’t until I started letting people in that I realized that my world hadn’t ended at all, it was just beginning.”
“And you think that advice applies to me?”
Ava frowned at her. “Why are you so afraid of everyone here? Why don’t you want to let people in?”
Billie snorted. “I’m not so sure they’d want to come in.”
“Why on Earth not?”
Billie put her coffee cup down on the wall and folded her arms. This conversation obviously needed to happen. Ava wasn’t going to leave her alone. She might as well be honest. “Because when I lived in Whitebridge I was a snotty, horrible little girl who thought she was better than everyone else because I had a modicum of talent.”
“Ah,” Ava said, nodding. “And you think people will hold that against you?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
