Chapter 1
Story
Miss MacIntosh.
Ms. MacIntosh.
Sophie.
I step back, pick up the eraser, and wipe away my name.
Then wipe away Ms. MacIntosh. Not sure what I’m trying to prove to a bunch of five- and six-year-olds. Miss MacIntosh, it is.
Then I scrub it all off and start again, writing Good morning, welcome back. My name is Miss MacIntosh. I turn to face the room.
The classroom looks as good as I can get it.
Bare walls have been replaced with posters of the alphabet and numbers. Colored paper chains stretch across the ceiling, giving the impression we’re inside a Big Top. I’m certainly no interior designer, but anything’s better than beige.
If I were still in Australia, I would have been much more prepared for the beginning of term. I like to start planning the return from each break a few months out, but to put it bluntly, the end of last year went to shit, and I’ve done my best with the tools I had.
Now here I am in the classroom I never thought I’d return to while I try to muster up the enthusiasm my soon-to-be pupils deserve.
But I’ll be damned if my enthusiasm isn’t being shoved out to make space for memories I don’t want—namely, of sitting in the desk second row from the front, my six-year-old hand in the air, desperate to answer a question.
This time, I don’t let the memory take hold. Instead, I jump up, shake out my arms, my body, and finally, my head, hoping it might shock some sense into me.
Maybe this morning won’t be so bad, and my anxiety is giving me a rough ride just for the hell of it.
“Knock, knock. Hellooo.”
I turn to the door of the classroom to see a head peering around it. A blond head, belonging to a very smiley woman around my age. Her smile is so wide I’m tempted to ask what she’s taken, and if she can give me the name of her dealer.
“Hey there.” I do my best to match her fervor as she walks in, though it’s more bounce than walk.
“Hi. Hi. Sorry to barge in before the morning chaos begins. I couldn’t make the meeting yesterday, so I wanted to introduce myself.
I heard you just moved here from Australia.
Wow.” She sets down two full coffee mugs, both bearing the Valentine Prep School crest, and taps a glossy red fingernail on her name badge, which reads Miss C.
Scott, next to a matching red apple. “I’m Celeste.
I teach the other reception class with you.
I brought you a coffee—” Her eyes catch the paper chains roped across the ceiling.
“And wow, I love what you’ve done with the place. ”
Ah, Celeste Scott. My teaching buddy, as Mrs. Benson, the headmistress, referred to her. Perhaps wow is her word of the day. I mentally scold myself for being such a miserable bitch.
I’m in a situation entirely of my own making. I have no one to blame but myself. Taking a deep breath, I force my smile to reach my eyes.
“Thank you so much, just what I need.” I hold my hand out. “It’s great to meet you. I’m Sophie.”
Sophie MacIntosh. Former Valentine Prep pupil. Master fucker-upper.
But she knocks my hand out of the way and yanks me into a hug. “None of that. We’re a team now.”
“Ooh, okay,” I barely manage to squeak out as she squeezes me, and to my surprise, I find myself laughing. It’s easier than crying, I guess.
“And honestly, you being here is saving me, big time. Running two classes last term was hard work.” She rolls her eyes.
I can’t tell whether it’s overly dramatic or if that’s just who Celeste is.
“And I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but Dave really left us in the S.
H. I. T.” She mouths each letter she spells out.
The news is enough to shake me out of my funk. “He died?”
She shakes her head, throwing it back with a laugh she digs from deep in her diaphragm. “No. But he’ll wish he did if I ever get my hands on him.”
My shoulders slump. Not because I’m disappointed he’s not dead, but I was expecting a better story. “What happened?”
“Decided teaching wasn’t for him and just didn’t come in one day. Left on a round-the-world trip with a girl he’d met on Tinder the month before.”
My mouth drops, because I get the impression that’s the reaction Celeste is after. I don’t share that I once pulled a similar stunt because the less I think about that, the less my stomach feels like it’s shredding itself from the inside out.
Instead, I borrow her word of the day. “Wow.”
“I know.” Her lips purse. “Anyway, aside from saying hello, I came to bring you this. It was left on my desk, but it’s for you.”
She pulls a clear blue folder from under her arm and waves it. I stare at it, then gingerly ease it from her fingers. I double down on every single prayer I’ve ever said, which admittedly isn’t many, but the cause of seventy-five percent of my anxiety is inside that folder.
Come to think of it, it might be closer to ninety, and I really want it to go away.
“Thanks, I was wondering if I was going to get this.”
“Yes, just the curriculum for the term and your class list.” She grins, not noticing how my entire body has stiffened. “Sorry, you should have had it yesterday.”
I pull out the top sheet where sixteen names are written in alphabetical order. Checking it twice, I let out a sigh of relief that feels more like an exorcism because I don’t see any name I recognize. God is clearly sweeter on me than I originally thought.
For one blissful second, I think this might all turn out okay.
But Celeste is peering over my shoulder. “Oh, fudge. That’s not yours. Sorry . . .” With a giggle, she snatches up the folder and rushes out the door, returning thirty seconds later waving another clear blue folder. “This one’s for you.”
The churning in my stomach starts up again, and for the second time, I pull out a list of names. This time, I don’t need to scan down it because it’s right there at the top.
Maxwell Angus William Burlington.
This was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t do it.
If I let out a groan, Celeste doesn’t seem to notice because she’s pulled a pen from her pocket and is placing a red dot next to a couple of the names.
“Watch out for the parents of these ones. They’re difficult. Constantly complaining about something,” she tuts. “Spend their entire life on the phone, then wonder why their child is acting out at home. Nothing you ever do is right—”
I nod silently. But she’s not done.
“And this one likes to eat crayons . . . this one’s mum is having an affair with this one’s dad .
. .” She sucks in her cheek and peers around to check no one’s listening even though we’re in a classroom by ourselves.
“I realize I’m being terribly indiscreet on your first day, but”—she taps against the name I don’t want to look at—“his dad . . . well, you’ll find out for yourself. ”
Celeste fans herself while I’m wondering where the bin is so I can throw up.
“A glimpse of him every morning is a really great start to the day.” She giggles.
Why? Why did I think I could get away with this?
All I planned to do was visit for Christmas break. Slip into Valentine Nook, spend time at my parents’ place, then leave without being spotted. I’ve done it before. I could do it again.
But luck was not on my side this time. Dumb or otherwise.
In fact, ever since I stepped foot in the village this year, things have gone from bad to worse.
First, my dad broke his leg, then my mum got the flu, and because my stupid brother spent stupid Christmas with his stupid girlfriend, I was left to hold everything together.
I had to run the farm and man the Christmas tree stand.
Which is when the shit really hit the fan.
I can still feel Hendricks’s anger from the afternoon he turned up. And I deserved it. I deserved every bit of his wrath. I’m nothing but a coward who runs from her problems instead of dealing with them head-on.
I could barely make out the usual piercing blue of his eyes, narrowed at me from underneath a baseball cap. He was so angry that for a split second, I thought it was Miles glaring at me.
“But he doesn’t always do drop-off, so a lot of mums leave disappointed.”
Oh God, she’s still talking.
“Sorry, who are you talking about?” I ask, though I don’t know why. I know.
“Hendricks Burlington. The Burlingtons are an extremely important family around here. Max is in your class. Sweet boy.” She picks up her coffee and sips while perched on the edge of a desk in the front row.
I guess we’re going to be talking, then.
I suppose that’s better than stewing in my own vortex of bad decisions that led me up to this point.
“So where did you teach before you arrived at Valentine Prep?”
“Australia. A private school in Sydney.” I smile, thankful for the change of subject. I take a sip of my own coffee and almost gag. My usual coffee comes with a side of six spoons of sugar, something I rarely tell people because I’m never in the mood to hear the judgmental gasps of six. “Mmm.”
“The coffee machine in the staff room is top-notch. It’s a fight to get to it in the morning.”
I lift my mug to her and pretend to take another sip. “Then thank you for risking your life for me.”
She knocks her mug against mine and laughs. “You’re welcome. We have to look out for each other. I’ll take you around the village when you’re settled in. Why did you leave Australia?”
She slips it in so casually at the end that I barely notice.
Only when my brain catches up do I realize I need to come up with a decent answer that doesn’t raise further questions.
Because telling her the full truth is going to lead me down a path I don’t want to venture down.
She’s only just veered off the topic of Hendricks and the Burlingtons.
If I tell her I grew up in Valentine Nook, we’ll go straight back.
I definitely don’t want to undo all the work I’ve done to block him from my mind.
It’s already unraveling far too quickly.
In the end, I go with half the truth. “My boyfriend and I broke up earlier last year, and it coincided with my teaching contract ending. So I came to England to spend time with my family and had to stay longer than I planned. This job came up unexpectedly.”
“Dave.” Celeste tuts, and her brows drop before she smiles broadly. “I’m sorry to hear that. His loss is our gain, though.”
I nod, and my mouth rolls in. “Just one of those things.”
“Well . . .” Her eyes flick up to the clock on the wall.
It’s followed by her wriggling off the desk to land on the floor with a little jump.
“I’m single too, so we can have some girl fun.
But I must finish getting prepped before the bell rings and the doors open.
Holler if you need anything, and I’ll meet you at breaktime for a full debrief. ”
I flash her a genuine smile. Celeste is as vibrant and raring to go for the school term as I always used to be. I love teaching. It’s been my dream as long as I can remember, but being back in Valentine Nook is messing with my head.
The truth is I just need to stay here until my dad is back on his feet, then I’ll be gone again.
I can leave this place and all the memories behind. Celeste can add me to her shit list next to Dave.
“Thanks. I’ll come and find you.”
“Good luck.” She waves and leaves with a parting comment. “I love your skirt, by the way. Very pretty. Gorgeous color.”
My eyes drop to the ankle-length lilac satin I’d spotted in the dress shop the other day and bought on a whim. I haven’t worn this color in years. It was one I used to wear to some degree most days, usually on my nails or with a hair tie. A pair of knickers that no one ever saw except me.
It’s been hanging on the front of my wardrobe ever since, while I stared at it, trying to summon the happiness this particular color used to make me feel. I only decided to wear it five minutes before I left the house this morning, only to pull it on over a navy cable-knit jumper and boots.
Stupid. I’m being stupid.
The bell startles me enough that I spill my coffee on the floor.
I don’t have time to remember my nerves because the next couple of minutes are spent rushing around, wiping it up with paper towels, and double-checking that all the desks are straight.
On each one, I leave a packet of newly sharpened pencils and a colored eraser.
Finally, before I can think about it any further and talk myself into doing another runner, I open the door and brace myself for the arrival of the boy I once loved with my whole heart.