Page 69 of The Only Way Is Up

‘I seriously considered it,’ Stella said pensively. ‘But Miriam made twelve, which seemed like a nice number. Sadly five women and seven men, but for the purpose of the seating plan we can count Archie as a woman.’

‘Granny!’ exclaimed Ruby, glancing at Tom in horror. ‘You can’t say that.’

Stella smiled sweetly at her granddaughter. ‘Darling, Archie will be the best-dressed person at that table, he should take it as a compliment. And also I’m sixty-two and I can say whatever I like.’

Ruby sighed and snatched the seating plan from Stella’s hand. ‘Who have you sat me next to?’

Stella leaned over her shoulder and pointed to where Ruby was sitting. ‘You’ve got Will on one side and Justin on the other.’

‘OK, that’s fine, but why have you put Mum between Marcus and Gerald?’

‘I had a bit of a crisis,’ Stella said, her hands flapping. ‘It felt wrong to seat her next to your dad or Archie, and poor Will shouldn’t be sandwiched between his girlfriend’s mother and her grandmother.’

Ruby nodded in agreement, running her finger over the hastily drawn plan. ‘Will would prefer being next to me, even if that does mean Miriam on his other side. Although Will quite likes the vicar; he reckons she has hidden depths. Why can’t we sit Mum next to Tom?’

‘Oh.’ Stella looked at Tom, her hands flapping awkwardly. ‘I’m so sorry, Tom, I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. What with all that silly gossip about you two a few weeks back. I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.’

‘Don’t be daft, Granny.’ Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘It’s Mum’s birthday, put her next to the people she’ll actually have fun with.’ She grabbed Stella’s pencil and did some crossing out. ‘Look, I’ll move Gerald to the other side of Miriam so Tom can sit on Mum’s left. There. That’s much better.’

Ruby gave Tom a beaming smile, and he tried not to blush. If there was one thing he’d learnt about teenagers over the years, it was that they didn’t miss much.

At 5 p.m. Tom sat at his desk, his pen hovering over the birthday card he’d bought for Daisy. The picture on the front was a brown dog that looked a bit like Henry, with a bunch of daisies dangling from its mouth in a dopey but charming fashion. He’d spent ages this afternoon scouring the local gift shops for a card that didn’t look like the kind of thing you’d buy an elderly aunt, but also didn’t communicate: ‘I’ve been thinking about little else but getting naked with you for several weeks.’ Most fortieth-birthday cards for women seemed to imply they subsisted on a diet of gin and Prosecco, and he had no idea if Daisy liked either. There was a lot he didn’t know about Daisy. He was looking forward to that changing.

He’d written several drafts of his message, including a jokey poem that was so bad he’d set fire to it then flushed the ashes down the staff toilet to eliminate the risk of anyone ever reading it. He reminded himself that there was a reason he’d started his career teaching Geography rather than English, and now was probably not the time to decide he could be the next Lord Byron.

There was a gentle knock at the door, which could only be Angela. She sometimes came in on a Saturday and pretended to work, presumably so she didn’t have to put the central heating on at home. She poked her head around the door, followed swiftly by a bowl of white hyacinths. Tessa had always hated the smell of them, which was unfortunate as she always got loads as Christmas gifts from parents trying to butter up the headmaster’s wife.

‘I thought these would look nice on your desk,’ Angela said gaily. ‘They’re rather cheery.’

Tom smiled and stood up, wafting an arm to indicate she should find a space among the stacks of files that littered his desk like cardboard cairns. ‘Thank you, that’s kind of you.’

Angela put the bowl on the corner of the desk and looked at Tom, wringing her hands. ‘I also wondered if you could spare me a moment.’

‘Of course.’ Tom redirected his wafting arm to the visitor’s chair. It was worn and ancient and had lost a few of its springs, rather like Angela. She fell into it awkwardly and fidgeted for a while, which made Tom wonder if she was sick, or had done something terrible with the school computer system. Again. ‘Is everything OK?’

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Angela said in hushed tones. ‘But I’m afraid I have some difficult news which you may find upsetting.’

Tom raised his eyebrows. ‘Go on.’

‘I’ve decided it’s time for me to retire.’ Angela spoke in the same grave voice the police officers had used to tell Tom Tessa was dead.

‘Goodness!’

‘I know.’ Angela’s eyes filled with tears. ‘It’s been a difficult decision. I know how much you depend on me.’

Tom arranged his face into an expression of brave acceptance. ‘You’ll be very much missed, Angela, but I’m sure this is the right decision.’

‘I think so.’ Angela gave a weak smile. ‘I’m thinking of selling Holly Tree Cottage and moving to a retirement community. There’s a new one in Cheltenham. It has a swimming pool and a snooker table.’

‘It sounds wonderful,’ Tom smiled, already thinking ahead to a time when he could hire a new secretary and not spend his life drowning in admin. ‘When were you thinking of leaving us?’

‘At half-term, if you don’t mind. Although obviously I’m happy to stay until Easter if that’s helpful.’

‘No, I won’t hear of it.’ I really won’t. ‘Let’s sort out all the details on Monday, shall we?’

He walked round to the front of the desk and offered her an arm so she could winch herself out of the chair. She patted his arm affectionately and smiled. ‘You’re a good man, Tom. I hope she looks after you.’

Tom stared at her, momentarily confused. ‘Who?’