Chapter 14
The projector was turned off as Blair escorted the crying girl out of the classroom. Guilt tore through him, but what was the point of talking to them about fire safety if the children didn’t understand the danger for themselves? How else would they know to avoid it?
He puffed out his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his navy shirt as the children goggled at him.
Shite. He’d terrified them. “Look, I know this can seem quite scary, but that’s why it’s important to be very careful.
You never, ever go near a lit firework, and you don’t cross the barriers set out around a bonfire. ”
“Yes, exactly. Is there a way to get that point across without emotionally scarring the children, perhaps, Mr Warren?” Mrs Crumpsall asked.
Warren nodded hesitantly. “Apologies. No more pictures, then.”
All he could do then was deliver the information off the top of his head, which was considerably more difficult.
As predicted, the children soon zoned out, only perking up when he talked about the more serious stories he’d experienced in his time as a firefighter, which were carefully policed by Mrs Crumpsall’s warning glowers.
At the back, Brook hung onto every word.
Frustration built inside him at the otherwise vacant stares. What use was all this if it wasn’t done properly? Fire didn’t assess a child under a certain age and decide, actually, better not burn that one. Too young. It certainly hadn’t spared him.
He finished with a final reminder to remain accompanied by an adult and to never approach a firework alone, lit or otherwise. Right on time, Blair returned with the teary student, who seemed to have recovered, a tissue in her fist.
Mrs Crumpsall glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Right, well, thank you for … that. Does anybody have questions for Mr Warren?”
A dozen hands shot up. He supposed that was something; he’d forgotten how novel his job could be to those who didn’t practically live at the station.
Forgotten that, once, he’d been a wee lad who had thought firefighters to be superheroes, too.
Perhaps he’d needed the reminder, especially with work so slow lately.
“Go on, Kyle,” said Mrs Crumpsall, pointing at a brunette child who had spent the entire talk kicking his legs under the table and whispering in his mates’ ears, much to the annoyance of the ginger lass adjacent.
“Have you ever nearly died in a fire?”
The memory of smoke filled Warren’s mouth and nostrils, as it always did when anything reminded him remotely of his past. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get past that suffocating terror when he’d first qualified, freezing up when faced with his first big house fire.
The more experienced officers had found it hilarious, poking fun at his incompetence – really, they’d done him a favour.
He’d needed a way of pushing through, and having something to prove had provided it.
Now, he tried to root himself back into his body. Not the one that had been choking as he’d dodged his way past ruthless, all-consuming flames, but the one whose boots chafed against worn, bobbly carpet as dimming daylight streamed through the blinds.
Warren forced a smile for the young boy. “While we do sometimes get hurt, we wear lots of protective uniform to keep us safe.”
“Like helmets,” said Katy.
“And a face mask to breathe through!” Brook added.
“Exactly.”
A few more questions were thrown at him – but he was relieved when the shrill school bell rang out to mark the end of the day.
“Right, Class Six, time to pack up!” Mrs Crumpsall bellowed over the eager shuffling of feet and chairs. “Don’t forget your coats and bags, and see you all tomorrow morning!”
Only then did Warren notice the parents lined up at the door outside, some of them peering in impatiently. A buzz started beneath his skin at the possibility of seeing Eiley, waiting for a flash of red-gold to break through the monochrome coats.
Stop it.
He turned his back to the door, refusing to let that longing control him.
He grabbed the USB stick from the desk and slipped it into his pocket, startling when Blair’s warm hip bumped against his.
“That was … thought-provoking,” she admitted, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder as she bashfully looked up at him beneath her lashes. “I’m sure you, er, made an impact.”
“Saw a couple of them nodding off towards the end there.”
She chuckled, rocking on the heels of her black boots. “Trust me, they’d already be asleep if it was a normal lesson with Mrs Crumpsall. I know what you were trying to do. I just don’t know if shocking them that way is a good idea. There are enough things in the world for them to fear already.”
Warren clenched his jaw, perching on the desk. “Well, it’s better to be scared than scarred. It only takes one kid to play daredevil and wreak havoc. Believe me, I’ve seen it.” He scratched his chin. “But I apologise if I went too far. It wasn’t my intention.”
“I’m sure,” she said softly. “I always love having guests come in. Watching the kids’ faces light up when they realise they might be able to do something inspiring when they grow up.”
“You love teaching, then.” Admiration lifted in him. Every kid deserved a teacher who cared about their future.
“I was considering quitting not that long ago, but this school made me realise there’s more to it than just handing out glue sticks and telling them off for running in the corridors.
They have so much going on here – for everyone.
Forest school and art club, languages, science. There’s a place for all of it.”
“Well, I can’t wait to hear all about it over that dinner.” Warren contemplated if this was a good idea one last time. And then he decided it was ridiculous to keep putting it off. Blair was textbook girlfriend material. What was he waiting for? “D’you think I could get your number, then?”
“Of course.” Blair beamed as he offered out his phone and she typed in her details. As it was returned, the sound of a throat clearing echoed behind him, and he stiffened at the sound of a familiar voice. Her voice. Even at its softest, it rippled through him like thunder.
“Hurry up, Brook. We’ve got to take Nanna to her X-ray soon.”
Warren turned around slowly, finding Eiley with another bonny wee lad at her side. With mussed, shoulder-length hair and a timid gaze that swept all over, determined to take in every detail, every corner, Warren deduced that it must have been Sky.
He froze. Had she just seen him ask Blair for her number?
Oblivious, Blair flounced towards the trio. “Hi, Eiley! Hi, Sky!” She knelt to reach the boy’s eye level, and Sky waved stiffly back without making eye contact. “We had a great time in the woods this morning, didn’t we?”
Warren was at a loss. Did he just … leave without acknowledging Eiley? Was she seriously not even going to look in his direction?
Apparently not, because she remained absorbed in her conversation with Blair. “I’m glad I caught you, actually. I have a couple of boxes of books in my car that I thought the school might find use for.”
“I can help you carry them in if you’d like,” Warren offered, and then immediately regretted it when Eiley cast him a frosty look.
“Not necessary, but thanks.”
Eiley started to usher the kids away.
Brook tugged her back, rushing to Warren’s feet. “Would you like me to read to you again soon? I have lots of new books that we get to keep from the shop.”
Warren hesitated, not sure how to explain to a seven-year-old that, actually, his mother wanted nothing to do with him so the answer would have to be no – even if he would have loved to hear Brook read again.
Huddled in that shop, even in the damp, was the first time he’d felt truly home since he’d returned to Belbarrow.
“Warren is very busy, Brook,” Eiley said. “Just like we are. Come on, munchkin.”
Brook pouted. “But Warren needs my help to read!”
Jesus. Warren felt awful. He attempted to smooth things over, crouched down to Brook and ruffling his hair gently. “How about when the bookshop is up and running again, you can read to me all you like?”
The lad lit up. “When will that be?”
“Soon, if your mum has anything to do with it, I’m sure.”
“Do you pinkie promise?” He extended his little finger, and Warren hooked his own around it.
“Aye, pinkie promise.”
Satisfied, Brook wrestled Warren into an unexpected hug. Warren softened when Brook’s head fell on his shoulder as though it was the most natural thing in the world. A moment later, he wished both Warren and Blair goodbye before dragging his brother out into the playground.
Eiley took a deep breath, opening her mouth as though about to say something – argue, likely, because he was sure that this was somehow his fault.
Warren rose back on his feet expectantly. Go on then, firecracker. Have at it.
Only, she didn’t, instead glancing at Blair and pursing her lips.
“Is … Is everything okay with your mum?” Warren couldn’t keep from asking. “You mentioned an X-ray.”
Eiley faltered as though taken aback. “She’s fine. It’s just routine. She has arthritis.”
“Ah. Well, good. Not about the arthritis. Just … glad everything’s okay.” So, he had officially got even worse at conversation. It was like his brain malfunctioned whenever Eiley was in the room.
A suspicious glance was cast from Blair, and Eiley straightened up. “I’ll go and get those books,” she said, and then was gone. Too quickly. Not quickly enough.
Warren released a breath, his hands clammy in his pockets. “I should get going, too. I’ll see you soon.”
Blair nodded. “I hope so.”
He grinned, but it felt forced, the date he’d been looking forward to a minute ago now tainted. Wrong. Which was ridiculous, because this thing with Eiley was over before it had ever really began.
Maybe that was what killed him. He’d gotten a taste, and it hadn’t been enough. The what if still dangled in front of him, the lust in his core no closer to being satisfied.
He needed to accept it never would be, because he couldn’t keep dancing in this limbo.