People here don’t get curious. They get invasive.
“She say where she’s staying?” I asked.
Rick raised an eyebrow. “Nope. Just paid and left. Why?”
I shrugged. “Curious.”
His grin widened. “You gonna start policing bar orders now?”
“Just asking,” I muttered, draining the last of my drink.
“She won’t be single for long,” he went on, like that was a normal thing to say about someone who’d just arrived.
“Good for her.”
“I might ask her out myself.”
“Good luck,” I said, pushing off the barstool.
Grammy was probably tucked up in bed by now.
Chapter 4
Juliette
After my run-in with that demented police officer, I was sure I’d made the worst decision of my life. Yet here I was alone in my classroom, surrounded by what the children had left for me.
Toys. Fruit. Pictures and letters, most likely written with help from their parents.
I sniffed hard, but my lip trembled and tears welled up anyway.
This was what my family couldn’t understand.
Why I wanted to teach.
Why I wanted to shape these innocent, open-hearted young minds.
My father was an investment banker.
My mother, a glorified housewife.
My sister edited a fashion magazine and barely acknowledged my existence unless it involved judgment.
Farrow’s End had been my escape and, as it turned out, the best decision I’d ever made. Everyone had been so friendly. So overwhelmingly welcoming.
A far cry from the city, where people would step over you mid-medical emergency without blinking.
I pulled off my glasses and yanked a tissue from the desk to dab my eyes, trying not to fall apart over crayon drawings and slightly bruised apples.
“Knock knock.”
I quickly put my glasses back on and smiled.
“Hi, Cathryn.”
“Cute,” she said, grinning at the haul on my desk. “But honestly, it’s probably gratitude because you’re not like the old battle-axe, Mrs Morris.”
“She couldn’t have been that bad.”
