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“Things you don’t have to practice, things that you can be more than good enough at,” muttered Jules into Billie’s skin.
Billie laughed. “Like what, for example?”
“Like this,” said Jules as her hands crept over Billie’s hips and cupped her backside.
“Mm-hmm,” Billie said, pushing back into Jules’s hands.
“And you’re good enough for me,” said Jules, lifting her head up a little so that Billie could see her dark eyes. “Too good for me.”
Billie put a finger under Jules’s chin. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that,” she said fiercely.
“What? That a famous musician, a talented, beautiful woman like you, might be too good for a little kid from Whitebridge that works in a pub?” Jules said and she was half joking.
But only half. Billie could see the sparkle of fear in her eyes. She didn’t know what else to do to dispel it, so she pulled Jules closer and tried to kiss it away.
BILLIE’S LEGS ACHED but she didn’t mind. She smiled to herself with each painful step, reminding herself of the reason for the aches. Reminding herself that Jules Hawthorne wanted her.
Well, had wanted her last night.
She supposed that the situation might have changed this morning. Had it changed? She surreptitiously checked her phone. No messages.
“You’re not supposed to have a mobile phone at school, miss,” said one of the boys who was currently drawing a picture to represent the music playing on the stereo.
“I’m a teacher, not a student,” Billie reminded him.
Maybe it had been a one night stand. Had it been a one night stand? When Jules had slipped away in the dark of the night she hadn’t said anything about them meeting again. She had barely said anything at all, just disappearing into the night like a shadow.
“But that’s not fair,” the boy said, looking up from a paper on which he’d drawn something that looked awfully like a Pokemon eating bananas. Or at least Billie hoped it was eating bananas. Not what she’d have chosen to represent Beethoven’s Pastoral symphony, but it was his choice.
“My mum says that life’s not fair and it’s not a circus either,” Agatha broke in, right on cue.
“That makes no sense,” the boy said turning back. “But my nan took me to the circus and it was really good. They didn’t have lions or elephants or monkeys though but my nan said that was alright because it’s cruel and anyway I’m her little monkey so that’s enough to handle for one trip.”
“Doesn’t sound much like a circus to me,” Agatha said.
“Enough,” Billie said, breaking in before things got too out of hand. “You’re supposed to be listening, not talking.”
It hadn’t felt like a one night stand. But it wasn’t as though she had so many of those that she could really tell. Or any of those, to be honest. Her heart was beating more wildly in her chest. The school bell rang.
All the children began to scrape back their chairs and gather their things, Billie didn’t say anything as they trooped out of her classroom, leaving only Agatha behind.
“Playing the piano is really good, Ms. Brooke and I can’t wait to play again and can I come today?”
“Well, I think your mum only wants you to come once a week,” Billie said.
Agatha’s face fell. “But I want to do it every day.”
“What about other things?” Billie asked her. “Like sports or art or playing with your friends. If you did piano every day then you wouldn’t have time for those things.”
“But piano is my favorite,” whined Agatha.
Billie sighed. “It’s important that you do lots of different things. You can’t grow up only knowing how to do one thing.”
“Oh,” Agatha said. “Like how I can’t grow up only eating pizza?”
“Right.”
Agatha sniffed. “I could grow up only eating pizza,” she grumbled. “But my mum won’t let me.”
