Today, Edie’s sandwich was mature cheddar topped with sliced tomato in brown granary. Nothing wrong with that. But she’d been in such a rush to get out of the house this morning, she’d forgotten to add mayo and the bread was dry and hard to swallow. She should keep a jar of the stuff in the staffroom fridge for emergencies.
Chewing disconsolately, she glanced out of the wide, rectangular window and all she could see was grey: the sky above, the concrete forecourt below, even the grassy area beyond the school railings seemed to merge with everything else into an indistinct gloom.
And it was spitting with rain. Of course it was. It had been like this for most of January and February. Barely a sliver of sunshine and not a single sprinkling of snow all winter to liven things up.
‘Grim, eh?’
She glanced round and exchanged smiles with Tom, who taught Geography. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five or -six and had only been here since September, but seemed amazingly confident – in a good way.
He plonked his Tupperware container on one of the round, white, melamine tables in the centre of the room and started to pull out a chair, which squeaked on the vinyl floor.
‘It’s terrible; it never stops raining,’ Edie agreed from her position on the pale blue sofa.
She always settled here, with her sandwich on her lap, rather than at a table; she’d sat or stood behind a desk all morning and it was a relief to be able to stretch out her legs and lounge back for a bit.
Tom removed the lid from his Tupperware box, fished out a wooden fork and shovelled in a mouthful of green pesto pasta. Edie didn’t want to move from where she was but wondered if it would be rude not to join him.
She needn’t have worried, though. The staffroom door swung open and Miss Bamford hurried in, clutching a pile of books.
‘Hi, Tom!’ she said, flashing him a dazzling grin. Edie smiled inwardly. He was a good-looking chap, for sure, and charming with it; she’d bet all the young female teachers had their eye on him. Some of the older ones too, probably.
Miss Bamford – Martha – plonked her books on his table. ‘Mind if I join you?’
Tom’s face lit up. ‘Of course – be my guest.’
Martha sashayed over to the tall white fridge on the far side of the room and fetched her lunch, wrapped in tinfoil, and a can of Diet Coke.
Tom went back to his food, but Edie thought he couldn’t have failed to notice his colleague’s pretty features and neat figure in a tight-fitting, cinnamon-coloured polo neck, flattering black trousers and black heels. She’d seen the two of them chatting animatedly a few times in the corridor between classes; there was clearly an attraction.
She felt quite wistful, remembering the electricity between her and Ralph when they first got together. It had been such an exciting time, full of fun and promise.
Twenty-six years on, their eldest child had left home and the younger one was away at university. They seemed to have packed all the light in their suitcases and taken it with them.
Placing her half-eaten sandwich back in the box, she laid it to one side and picked up her phone to make a call. Several more staff came through the door; the room was filling up fast. She’d have to be quick.
‘Hi, Hannah, can you speak?’ she said, keeping her voice low, so as not to annoy anyone.
‘Sure,’ came the reply. ‘I’m having lunch at my desk.’
Edie could picture her friend in trackie bottoms and a baggy sweatshirt, chomping into a salad. She always ate salads. She was forever trying to lose weight, but sabotaged every diet by snacking on peanuts and biscuits in between.
She was probably spilling bits of lettuce and smearing olive oil on the keyboard. She was awfully messy, but as she worked from home, there was no one to call her up on it.
‘Have you thought any more about that holiday I suggested?’ Edie went on. ‘The weather’s so shit, it’s getting me down. I need something to look forward to.’
‘I have actually. What about Crete? I’ve never been and it’s supposed to be lovely. May half-term should be perfect weather, too. Warm but not too hot.’
‘Ooh!’ Edie’s mind instantly filled with images of sandy beaches, bright white buildings and sparkling azure waters. ‘Ralph and I had our honeymoon there. We loved it, but for some reason we’ve never been back.’
‘I’m slightly up to my neck with work at the moment,’ Hannah mumbled. She was quite hard to understand when her mouth was full. ‘Can you look into villas and I’ll research flights and hire cars?’
‘Sure,’ said Edie. ‘Any preference as to which part of the island we stay on?’
There was a crunch, followed by chomping noises. Celery? Raw carrot?
Edie waited patiently while her friend finished chewing.
‘Anywhere’s fine by me,’ Hannah said eventually. ‘Let’s not stay too far from the airport, though. Mac hates having a massive long drive straight after getting off the plane.’
