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“Ah, hello!”
Billie looked up to see an older woman walking down the corridor toward her. She was slim and wore her glasses up on top of her head, holding back short red hair in a way that made Billie catch her breath slightly.
“Ava Stanford, I teach the upper infants, and you must be the famous Billie Brooke,” she said with a grin, holding out her hand.
Billie’s stomach sank a little. “I’m Ms. Brooke,” she said, taking the hand and giving it a limp shake.
“Oh, come now, we don’t have to stand on ceremony when the kids aren’t around. How’s the first day going?”
Billie detected the faint trace of an American accent. To be fair, she’d never met this woman in her life, she probably knew very little about younger Billie, and that had to be a good thing. So Billie thawed out just a bit.
“It’s going alright,” she said. Then she looked out of the window just in time to see Ag’s blond head bounce by.
“Ah,” said Ava. “Had the reception class in, did you?”
“Who is that little hellion?”
Ava laughed. “That’ll be Agatha Browning, daughter of the local bookshop owner Mila, and Max Browning, the village policeman. She’s what Mr. Lowell, the headteacher, calls ‘a bit of a handful.’”
“She came within inches of telling her classmates where babies come from.”
Ava laughed again. “That’s Ag. She doesn’t mean any harm, she’s just a bit precocious is all. She’ll settle down after a few months, trust me, I’ve seen worse.”
“Been here long?” Billie asked, suddenly aware that she might be flirting. That she might be actually feeling like flirting. A feeling that was suddenly popped when footsteps sounded in the corridor.
“Darling,” Ava said.
Billie saw a woman dressed in sensible leggings with her hair up in a ponytail coming toward them.
“It’s not sexual harassment,” Ava said, seeing the look on Billie’s face and mistaking it for something else. “This is Hope Stanford, school secretary and teacher all in one, and by some unbelievable luck, my wife.”
Billie forced herself to smile but Hope was already narrowing her eyes as she approached. “Billie Brooke,” she said. “As I live and breathe. I can’t believe you’re back in Whitebridge.”
Billie didn’t know what to say. She could feel her insides squirming around and knew that she should make some excuse, should say something, but she just couldn’t. This was why she was anxious, this was what she was afraid of. Confrontations like this day after day reminding her that she’d slumped home with her tail between her legs.
“Do you not remember me?” Hope said, peering in closer.
“Er, yeah, yeah, of course I do.”
Hope gave a gratified smile. “Well, I’m here to remind you both that there’s a staff meeting at lunchtime so don’t forget. Oh, and I need to ask Billie about the website.”
“Website?” Billie said.
“Mmm, we’ve got a Whitebridge website where we put all the news and tons of stuff about school and the like,” Hope said with a grin. “I was wondering if you wanted me to put anything up there about you? You know, like an introduction. I mean most of us know who you are, obviously, but there’s a lot of new people around town.”
“Who are nosy and should mind their own business,” Ava broke in. She smiled at Billie. “However, I think Mrs. Lawton was listed there as well which is where she found most of her private students, so you might want to consider it.”
“Right,” Hope said, like it was decided. “So I’ll list you as offering private music lessons then, shall I? What instruments shall I put, other than the obvious v—”
Billie broke in just in time. “Just piano at the moment,” she said. “Maybe extra recorder lessons for some of the juniors as well.”
“Right, right,” Hope said. “Well then, I’ll see you at the staff meeting.”
She hurried off down the corridor and Ava watched her go before turning back to Billie.
“It’s rough coming home again, huh?” the older woman said.
Billie shrugged and Ava smiled at her.
