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“No, probably not. I assume you’ve changed as an adult. I assume that you’re back here because you’ve learned that you’re not better than anyone else.”
Billie gave a short laugh. “That’s one way to put it. Worse than anyone else, if truth be told.”
“There’s no truth in that,” Ava said firmly. “But if you’re going to be here, even if only for a while, then why not show people that you’ve changed? Why not come home a different, better person, instead of the failure that you obviously think you’ve become?”
“Because…” Billie trailed off and shook her head.
“Because it’s hard facing up to people’s judgment,” said Ava knowingly. “But then again, maybe people aren’t judging you quite as harshly as you think if you give them a chance.”
Billie was silent. She knew Ava was trying to be nice, was trying to help. Ava didn’t really know her though, which she supposed was part of the appeal. She liked talking to Ava. She was jealous of Ava. Ava with her wife and her job and her family and everything perfect. What could she know about how Billie’s life had been? How it had crumbled?
“Hope and I are going out for a drink tonight. Nothing fancy,” Ava said. “But we’ll be at the pub if you feel like dropping in. No pressure. And if not tonight, then another night. It’s easier facing up to people when you’ve got someone on your side.”
Billie bit her lip and nodded. The pub wasn’t her scene. But Ava was reaching out to her and it wasn’t like she had so many friends that she could afford to turn one down. “Maybe,” she allowed, knowing that she wouldn’t go.
“Why did you come back?” asked Ava.
Billie looked up at her with clear eyes. “Because I had nowhere else to go,” she said honestly.
“Maybe because your story here isn’t finished yet,” said Ava. “Finn Everly, give that football back right this minute!”
The bell rang just at that moment and Billie picked up her coffee cup. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
“I meant it,” Ava said. “I’m here and I hate to see you looking so lonely. When your life is destroyed, the only thing you can do is rebuild it again. You look like you might need a bit of help on that score.”
Billie had to laugh at that. “Yeah, that’s a bit of an understatement.”
“Oh, I almost forgot, Hope wanted me to ask you if you want to take part in the end of term assembly.”
For a second, Billie’s chest filled with massive pressure. She had to force herself to speak slowly and calmly. “I’m afraid I don’t play in public anymore.”
“Oh, God, no, sorry, I meant your kids. Do you want some of your kids in the assembly,” Ava said quickly. “A choir maybe, or perhaps one of the recorder groups? Just let Hope know, will you?” She hurried off inside, presumably to her own classroom.
Billie followed her, cursing herself for being an idiot. Still, after all these years, she thought that everything revolved around her. She thought she was getting better, being better, then something like that happened and her reactions were just the same as when she was a teenager.
She checked her watch quickly. She knew her recorder group was coming in late, which gave her twenty extra minutes to track down the school photocopier and get copies made for Jules later.
She had a brief memory of Jules bent over the keyboard, biting her lip, her eyes focused, her profile sharp. The woman was argumentative but at least she didn’t interfere with anything to do with Billie’s personal life. She had her own agenda, and that was just fine with Billie.
As she ran the copies through the machine, Billie wondered what this woman was like, the one that Jules was so in love with that she’d lied about playing the piano. Hardly the foundation of a healthy relationship.
Mind you, it wasn’t like Billie herself was an expert on relationships. Cora was gone. The only feelings she’d had recently were for Ava, who was definitely sexy but very taken. There was a hole there, one that Billie would like to fill because she was lonely.
One that she was unlikely to fill though.
Especially if she kept herself hidden away, as Ava put it.
She grabbed her copies and hurried back to the music room. It wasn’t a good idea to leave seven year olds alone for too long. They had a tendency to get into trouble.
Chapter Thirteen
Jules looked down at her fingers on the keys then slowly changed which finger went where. She played the two chords again, then again, then grinned. “Hey, you know, that really works.”
“Mmm, fingering is important,” Billie said. And without even looking at Jules’s face, she added: “And you really don’t need to smirk every time I say the word fingering.”
“You really need to come up with a different word for that,” said Jules, playing the two chords again. “I think I’m getting the hang of this. I think I’ve got it.”
There was a slight pause. “I think… I think you have.”
