Chapter Thirteen
The afternoon was going wonderfully, right up until it wasn't.
Annabelle had been teaching her Year Three class about habitats when there was a knock at the classroom door. She looked up, expecting Nina or perhaps Lily with a message, and instead found Raven standing in the doorway, guitar case slung over her shoulder.
"Oh," Annabelle felt her face light up. "You came!" Not that she hadn’t expected her to, just… well, here she was.
"You asked me to." Raven stepped inside, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Said it would be easier to teach them here than trying to wrangle them all at a proper rehearsal."
The children had noticed. Twenty-eight heads swiveled in unison, twenty-eight pairs of eyes went wide, and then chaos erupted.
"It's Raven!"
"The famous one!"
"Miss, Miss, is she really teaching us a song?"
"Can I touch her guitar?"
"Settle down, settle down!" Annabelle clapped her hands, but she was smiling so broadly it rather undermined her authority.
"Yes, this is our neighbor Raven, and yes, she's very kindly agreed to help you with your song for the fundraiser.
But we need to be respectful and listen carefully, don't we? "
"Yes, Miss Swift," the class chorused, though they were all vibrating with excitement.
Raven looked like she deeply regretted every decision that had led to this moment.
"Right," she said, setting her guitar case down. "Let's… um, let’s do this, then."
Annabelle gestured to the chair she'd set up at the front of the classroom. "I'll just be over here if you need anything. Children, best behavior, please."
She retreated to her desk, ostensibly to mark some maths worksheets, but really she just wanted to watch.
Raven pulled her guitar from its case and settled into the chair. The children gathered around her in a semicircle on the carpet, some sitting cross-legged, others kneeling, all of them staring with the kind of rapt attention Annabelle usually only achieved when she brought in actual cake.
"So," Raven said, clearing her throat. "This is a song about the library. It's important, what you're all doing. Trying to save it."
"My mum says libraries are old-fashioned," Thomas announced.
"Your mum's wrong," Raven said bluntly.
Thomas looked delighted.
"Libraries are…" Raven paused, seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "They're places where anyone can go. Doesn't matter if you're rich or poor, if your parents can afford books or not. Libraries are for everyone. That's important. Right?"
The children nodded solemnly.
"So this song is about that. It's simple, easy to remember. Dunno what you were doing with Gloria, but after that debacle, I think we’ll start again from the beginning. I'll play it through once, then we'll learn it line by line. Sound good?"
"Yes!" they chorused.
Raven began to play.
The melody was gentle and sweet, nothing like the hard rock Annabelle had heard drifting from the cottage late at night. This was softer, more intimate, the kind of thing you'd sing around a campfire or hum to yourself while walking home.
"In the pages of a book, you can travel anywhere, Meet a dragon, climb a mountain, fly through the air, Stories keep us warm when days are cold and gray, Every library's a treasure, don't let them take it away."
The children listened, enchanted. Even Thomas, who could rarely sit still for more than thirty seconds, was completely absorbed.
And Annabelle… well.
Annabelle felt something move inside her. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was or what it meant, just that she felt a shift.
She'd seen Raven grumpy, seen her defensive, seen her awkward and uncomfortable and trying desperately to maintain her walls. But this? This was something else entirely.
This was… tenderness.
Raven's voice was soft as she sang, her fingers moving gently across the strings. And when she looked at the children, really looked at them, there was something in her expression that made Annabelle's heart do a bizarre little flip.
"Right," Raven said when she'd finished. "Let's start with the first line. Repeat after me: In the pages of a book…"
"In the pages of a book!" the children shouted enthusiastically.
Raven winced. "Quieter. Remember, we're not trying to scare the neighbors. Let's try again."
For the next twenty minutes, she worked with them patiently. Breaking down each line, correcting pitches gently, encouraging the shy ones and reining in the loud ones. She was firm but kind, clear but never harsh.
Jamie Long, who usually sat at the back and said nothing, was right at the front, watching Raven's hands on the guitar with absolute fascination.
"You're doing brilliantly," Annabelle said when they'd made it through the whole song twice. "All of you."
"Can we do it again?" Marie asked.
"Please?" added Indra.
Raven glanced at Annabelle, who nodded encouragingly.
"Once more," Raven said. "And this time, really feel it. This isn't just a song. It's about something that matters. Ready?"
They sang it through again, and this time it was beautiful. Still imperfect, still a little off-key in places, but full of genuine feeling.
When they finished, the children erupted into applause for themselves, and Raven looked simultaneously pleased and embarrassed.
"That was wonderful," Annabelle said warmly. "Thank you so much for doing this."
Raven shrugged, already packing her guitar away. "They're good kids."
"They are." Annabelle smiled. "And you're very good with them."
"I wouldn't go that far."
"I would." Annabelle meant it too. "You've been lovely."
Raven looked up sharply, something flickering across her face that Annabelle couldn't quite read. But before she could say anything, Nina burst through the door, slightly out of breath.
"Sorry I'm late," Nina gasped. "I was helping with the photocopying and the machine jammed and… oh!" She stopped, noticing Raven. "You're here! How did it go?"
"Brilliantly," Annabelle said.
"Oh, that's wonderful." Nina pulled out her phone. "Can I get a quick photo? For the school's social media? The parents would love to see this."
Annabelle glanced at Raven, who had gone very still.
"I don't think…" Raven started.
"Just one," Nina said brightly, already framing the shot. "You don't even have to smile. Just… there. Perfect."
She snapped the photo before Raven could protest: Raven standing there with her guitar case, surrounded by beaming children, looking like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't.
"Nina," Annabelle said gently, "perhaps we should ask…"
"It's fine," Raven said curtly, already heading for the door. "I need to go."
"But…"
"Thanks for having me. Kids, good work today." And she was gone, the classroom door swinging shut behind her.
Annabelle frowned. That had been… abrupt.
"Did I do something wrong?" Nina asked, looking worried.
"No, no," Annabelle assured her. "I'm sure it's fine. She's just… private, that's all."
But she couldn't shake the feeling that something had just gone terribly wrong.
BY THAT EVENING, Annabelle knew exactly how wrong things had gone.
She'd come home from school, made herself a cup of tea, and settled in to do some marking when her phone began to buzz. Text after text from people she barely knew, parents from school, even her cousin in Manchester she hadn't spoken to in months.
Did you see???
OMG Annabelle you're all over the internet!
I can't believe Raven is in Bankton!!!
Confused, Annabelle opened her laptop and searched Raven’s name.
The first result made her stomach drop.
"RAVEN'S SECRET VILLAGE HIDEAWAY EXPOSED!"
The photo Nina had taken was everywhere. Not just on the school's Facebook page, but shared across Twitter, Instagram, reposted to fan sites and gossip blogs. And beneath it, hundreds of comments.
So THIS is where she's been hiding!
Bankton Primary School—guess we know where to find her now
Is this rehab? Is she okay???
Another publicity stunt from a washed-up rockstar
She looks miserable. Leave her alone ffs
Annabelle felt sick.
This was her fault. Well, Nina's fault technically, but Annabelle should have stopped her. Should have known this would happen. Should have protected Raven's privacy better.
She grabbed her phone and headed next door.
Raven answered on the third knock, and the look on her face made Annabelle take a step back.
Cold. Distant. Nothing like the person who'd been so gentle with the children just hours before.
"I'm so sorry," Annabelle said immediately. "I had no idea Nina was going to post that photo publicly, and I certainly didn't know it would spread like this. I've asked her to take it down, and I've contacted the school to—"
"It doesn't matter," Raven said flatly.
"Of course it matters! Your privacy has been—"
"I said it doesn't matter." Raven's voice was sharp. "It's out there now. That's how these things work. You can't put it back in the box."
"But I feel terrible."
"Don't." Raven started to close the door. "I shouldn't have expected anything different. This is what people do. They take, and they share, and they don't think about consequences."
"That's not fair," Annabelle said quietly. "Nina didn't mean any harm."
"Intent doesn't matter." Raven's eyes were hard. "Impact does. And the impact is that now everyone knows where I am. The one thing I came here to avoid."
"I'm sorry," Annabelle said again, feeling helpless.
"Yeah. Me too." Raven closed the door.
Annabelle stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, feeling like she'd just been punched in the stomach.
THE NEXT REHEARSAL was scheduled for two days later. Annabelle arrived early, hoping to catch Raven before everyone else showed up, to apologize properly, to explain.
But Raven was already there, setting up in the corner with her guitar, and when Annabelle approached, she was met with the same cold distance.
"Hi," Annabelle tried. "I wanted to—"
"Let's just focus on the rehearsal," Raven said, not looking at her. "That's what I'm here for."
And that was it.
For the entire rehearsal, Raven kept everyone at arm's length. She taught the children their song with the same patience as before, but there was none of the warmth. No little jokes with Thomas, no encouraging smiles for Jamie. Just efficient, professional instruction.
When Gloria tried to engage her in conversation about choreography, Raven gave monosyllabic answers.
When Daisy asked if she was alright, Raven said she was fine in a tone that very clearly meant don't ask again.
And when Annabelle tried to catch her eye, to smile, to somehow bridge this awful gap that had opened between them, Raven looked right through her.
It was like the past few days hadn't happened. Like all those small moments, the guitar lessons with Jamie, the almost-smiles, the way she'd looked at the children with such tenderness, had been erased.
By the time rehearsal ended, Annabelle felt like crying.
This was exactly what Raven had been afraid of, she realized. This was why she'd come to Bankton in the first place. To escape exactly this kind of exposure, this invasion of privacy.
And Annabelle, in her relentless optimism, in her determination to involve Raven in the community, had helped make it happen.
As Raven packed up her guitar to leave, moving quickly like she couldn't wait to get away from all of them, Annabelle understood something painful and clear: Raven had built those walls for a reason.
And now she was building them right back up, higher than before.
A reminder of why she'd left fame in the first place.
And it was Annabelle’s fault.