‘Agreed. I’ll do a bit of googling and report back.’
They said goodbye and Edie forced herself to finish her dry sandwich, or she’d be hungry later. After that, she popped a dark red grape in her mouth and nearly swallowed it whole when someone tapped her firmly on the shoulder, making her start.
Jessica, the History teacher, was standing right behind her. Edie quickly chewed the grape a couple of times before gulping it down.
‘Oh! Hi!’ she said, managing a smile, though her eyes were watering.
‘How was your morning?’ Jessica asked, seeming not to notice Edie’s face had turned red, too.
‘Fine, thanks. My Year Nines were a bit rowdy, but I’ve got my lovely A-level English group to look forward to this afternoon. How about you?’
Jessica switched her black leather bag from one shoulder to another. She was tall and slim with a long, pale face that was interesting rather than pretty, and small, clever, bright blue eyes.
She had a passion for ancient history and though it was rarely taught in state schools nowadays, she’d managed to persuade the head teacher to include it as an option.
‘My GCSE lot are finally getting to grips with Echo and Narcissus. They seem quite enthralled. One pupil said if Narcissus was alive today, he’d be obsessed with selfies. I love it when the penny drops and they realise it’s not just a dusty old story; it still has relevance.’
Edie smiled again. ‘Great they’ve made that link.’
Jessica was wearing a maroon-coloured dress, tied at the waist with the buttons done up to her neck. Her straight, mid-brown hair was in a ponytail, with hairpins on either side to anchor any stray strands.
It was well known pupils found her intimidating; even some of the staff were a bit scared of her. Not Edie, though, who found her intriguing.
Jessica was in her late forties, single and with no children, but she didn’t seem remotely sad or lonely. Highly intelligent, she had numerous interests as well as ancient history, including classical music, poetry, crochet, travel, marathon running and, perhaps surprisingly, crime novels.
She took no nonsense from anyone and had a reputation for being strict, while Edie was the one people turned to in a crisis. Even the other teachers would come and cry on her shoulder if they’d had a row with the boyfriend or husband or a dressing-down from the head. Edie didn’t ask for it; it just seemed to happen that way.
Jessica’s exam results were the best in the school and gossipy staff claimed this was only because the children were terrified of her. But as Edie would point out, those brave enough to pick her subject at A level seemed to end up hero-worshipping her, so she must have something special.
The phone flashed on the seat and Edie’s train of thought flitted from Jessica, Echo and Narcissus and ancient Rome, to Greece.
‘I’ve just been speaking to a friend,’ she said. ‘We’re thinking of going to Crete in May half-term. Have you been?’
Jessica shifted from one foot to another and nodded.
‘A very long time ago, when I was in my twenties. I remember visiting Knossos, centre of the old Minoan civilisation. I went to some beautiful beaches, too, but I can’t recall which ones.’
‘I need to find us a nice villa. I’m sure there are loads. I just hope we haven’t left it too late.’
‘Oh, you’ll find something,’ Jessica replied distractedly, checking her watch. ‘Goodness! Time’s ticking. I’d better hurry up and have lunch.’
Walking briskly over to one of the high tables in front of the window, she pulled out a stool, settled down and reached for the sandwiches in her bag. She rarely joined Edie on the sofa unless they’d made a prior arrangement, or Edie specifically invited her.
After finishing her grapes, Edie wiped the crumbs off her lap and took a sip of water. She’d have liked a strong coffee but needed a pee and also had a bundle of worksheets to print off before the next lesson.
One of her former pupils, a young woman with dark curly hair and big brown eyes, was coming through the door as she was leaving.
‘Hello, Amina. How are you?’ she asked, pausing. She was always pleased to see her.
‘Good, thanks, Mrs Lovell.’
Amina had arrived at the school six years earlier speaking barely any English and traumatised by the war in Syria, from which she and her family had fled.
Edie had been her form tutor for that first year and had taken her under her wing. Amina was smart and keen to learn as well as polite, funny and personable.
Impressed by her attitude, Edie had given her extra language lessons in her own time and lent her books to read. Amina could soon keep up in class and before long, she’d even started to overtake many of her peers.
She went on to achieve first-class exam grades. Disappointingly, though, she hadn’t got into the university she most wanted to attend.
