Encouraged by Edie and her other teachers, she’d decided to take a year out and reapply. In the meantime, she’d come back to school for two terms on a paid, part-time basis to assist the IT department.
Edie was super proud of Amina but also knew she was vulnerable. She felt quite maternal towards her and sometimes had to stop herself clucking round her like a mother hen.
‘Can I ask you something?’ Amina said suddenly, moving to one side to let another teacher enter the room.
Edie raised her eyebrows. ‘Of course. Anything.’
Amina explained she was having trouble filling in one of the many university forms, some of which had changed in the past year. She had to do it all by herself as neither of her parents spoke much English.
Edie offered to stay behind after school the next day to go over things with her.
‘They’re absolute pigs, those forms. As you know, I had to help my kids do theirs. I should find it easier third time round.’ She made a face. ‘Famous last words, perhaps.’
Amina laughed.
‘Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.’
The afternoon went quickly and Edie had a spring in her step when she left the school building, clutching a canvas bag stuffed with Year Seven essays to be marked.
It was dark outside but at least it had stopped raining. Her black VW was in the staff car park at the back of the school and she waited for another car to leave before pulling out.
It was only a twenty-minute drive through the winding Surrey lanes to her village outside Guildford, and she found herself reflecting on how much longer her commute might have been if she and Ralph had stayed in London.
They’d decided to move when Maisie was six and Ollie four, wanting them to have more space and freedom. The children loved the area when they were young but had complained as teenagers, because everything was so spread out.
As soon as they were old enough to drive, however, their parents had helped buy each of them a second-hand car and the moaning had stopped.
Overall, Edie thought, she and Ralph had made the right call. It was a relief not to have to deal with London traffic, road cameras and 20mph speed zones.
Here, they could hear birds tweeting and were surrounded by gorgeous countryside. She sometimes hankered after West End shops, theatres and restaurants, but not the crowds.
Cobbler’s Cottage was in a row of cosy-looking, detached Victorian homes set back from the lane and facing a common. The double-fronted, red-brick property had a smallish front garden surrounded by a white picket fence and filled with neatly trimmed shrubs.
There were white-painted plantation shutters on all the windows and in summer, pink roses rambled over the triangular-shaped porch canopy. Beneath it, the blue-black front door, with its heavy iron, horseshoe-shaped knocker, seemed to beckon to you.
‘Come in!’ it seemed to say. ‘You’ll be sure of a warm welcome here!’
Edie pulled into a special bay, cut into the grass verge just across from her gate, and turned off the ignition.
The hall light was on but the rest of the house was in darkness. She guessed Ralph was still in his garden office out back. As she walked up the front path she could hear Dilly, their Border Terrier, yapping wildly on the other side of the door.
‘Shh, Dilly! Be quiet. It’s only me,’ Edie whisper-shouted while she fiddled with the key in the lock. You had to use a special knack, or it wouldn’t turn properly.
The yaps morphed into ear-piercing squeals and Edie hoped she wouldn’t find a puddle on the floor. When she opened the door at last, Dilly hurtled out, running rings round her heels before jumping up and scratching her calves with sharp little claws.
‘Ouch!’ Edie plonked the heavy bag of school books on the ground and bent down to pat the dog’s head and stroke her soft, pointy ears. ‘I must remember to make an appointment with the groomer.’
Dilly rolled on her back to expose her round, pink tummy.
‘Soppy dog,’ Edie cooed, giving her a tickle. ‘Now, out of my way. I need to get in the house.’
Once inside, she abandoned her big bag at the foot of the stairs and strolled down the narrow hallway. She could hear the dog’s nails tap-tapping on the wooden floor as it trotted after her.
Flicking on the overhead spots in the kitchen, Edie blinked several times in the bright light. It wasn’t long before her eyes adjusted, and she made a beeline for the kettle.
‘A nice cup of tea is what we need, isn’t it, Dilly?’ she said, glancing at the dog at her feet while turning on the tap.
With some satisfaction, she reached for her favourite blue-and-white-striped mug, neatly placed in one of the sage green, Shaker-style cupboards.
