Chapter 15 Anna
Anna
I drop my keys onto my hall stand and kick off my damp shoes, exhausted from one of the worst days of my teaching career.
I’ve never felt so shit-scared in my life.
Josh won’t be attending Richmond Private anymore.
The official story from Principal Taylor was carefully worded—something about them coming to a “mutual agreement”—but I can read between the lines.
Once the police contacted Josh’s parents with video evidence of their son waterboarding Finn, they pulled him from the school before formal expulsion proceedings could begin.
My guess is they’ve attempted damage control to maintain their reputation.
The moment Yuki burst into my classroom, her cheeks flushed pink as she told me she couldn’t find Finn, my stomach sank like a stone in water.
Roger was lurking in the corridor as the kids filed back from morning break, so I knew he had a student-free day.
And I did something I immediately regretted.
I begged him to cover my class while I searched for Finn.
Of course, the knobhead had one condition: I owe him a drink. Just the two of us.
The slimy prick.
He could see I was desperate so of course I would agree to it.
Finn was out there somewhere, scared and alone, and the thought of not helping tore me apart.
And, since then, I’ve been struggling with the fact that seeing Liam’s arms wrapped around Finn set off a whole other feeling I’m not sure I’m ready to address.
The feeling that I kind of wanted to go with them.
As soon as I heard about what happened in the schoolyard I thought I might vomit.
I’d spoken with Josh’s parents, after my meeting with Liam, which proved to be about as useful as a knitted condom.
Just like the last three times, I got nowhere with them.
Having Cedric and Josie present made no difference; they still refused to cooperate.
But now that Josh is no longer my student, I’m free to admit that the child is clearly spoiled and allowed to do whatever he wants without correction.
After eating dinner and washing up, I prepare to rot on my sofa with a thick blanket, a packet of cheesy crisps, and a spicy romance novel.
I’ve just hit the juicy part, where the love interest has the heroine bent over her dining table, skirt rucked up over her arse, his palm coming down in sharp swats, when my phone hums across the coffee table.
Damn it. I just got to the good part.
I reach over and open the group chat.
Gemma: April and I have booked yoga for us at your old studio at 7 am tomorrow. You can’t say no.
April: I won’t be participating because I’m about two seconds away from giving birth.
Gemma: April’s meeting us for coffee afterward.
April: I’ll be right there with you, head-down and bum-up, in spirit!
Me: No.
Gemma: See you tomorrow! Wear something stretchy.
*Anna has left the conversation*
*Gemma has added Anna to the conversation*
Gemma: Why’d you leave?
Me: Bugger off. I’m not doing yoga.
Gemma: Yes, you are.
April: And bring tissues. Gemma cried last time.
Me: Why did Gemma cry?
Gemma: Anal.
My brows pinch together. You know what? It’s not worth asking.
Me: Fine. As long as she doesn’t bring her crystals.
Gemma: Never say never. *winky face*
I toss my phone to the other end of the sofa and take stock of my current situation. I’m covered in a dusting of cheese powder, my socks don’t match, and I’m pretty sure I just pulled a piece of yesterday’s toast from my hair.
I catch myself bringing the crumb to my lips.
Oh my God! Anna! What the hell are you doing?
Maybe Gemma’s right. Maybe it’s time I get off my arse and rejoin the land of the living. I can’t keep up this work-and-straight-home routine forever. It felt good having dinner with Gemma and Max the other night.
Sure, Max might have given me a bollocking about Liam, but for a few hours I forgot about Mason and the divorce. I forgot about the crushing disappointment of how differently my life was supposed to turn out.
For those few hours I just felt… me again. The Anna I used to be.
My phone jolts me from my thoughts. Unknown number. I roll my eyes and toss the phone aside, settling back into my juicy romance book, when it rings again.
I silence it.
It vibrates again.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, slamming my book closed. It’ll be some bloody telemarketing company. They never stop calling until you answer. I snatch up my phone and swipe to accept, bringing the phone to my ear. “You’ve reached the office of Jesus Christ—”
“Anna.” The voice is rough, desperate.
I pause, something in his tone making my chest tighten. “Yes?”
“It’s… it’s Liam.” Holy shit. “I’m sorry for calling. I got your number from when you rang earlier. I just . . .” he trails off, and I can hear him struggling.
I sit up straighter. “What’s wrong? Is Finn okay?”
“He’s . . .” He starts, grunting in frustration. “He won’t stop crying. He keeps asking for his ma.”
My heart drops. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry for ringing. I just—I don’t know what to do, Anna.” He sounds pained. “Shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you. This is completely inappropriate—”
“No. It’s okay,” I rush out without hesitation. “I can try to talk you through it, if you like?”
He releases a weighted exhale. “Are you sure? I just… I don’t know what to do here. I tried calling my cousin but he wasn’t answering and—”
“Liam, it’s fine. It was a big day, I understand you’re feeling overwhelmed. I’d like to help, if I can.”
A pause. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Now what’s going on?”
“Shower time was a total disaster. It took me far too long to realize why he was backing away from the bathroom. Then it hit me. The fountain. Of course, he wouldn’t want water anywhere near his face after what that little psychopath did to him.”
My hand lifts to cover my mouth, my eyes fluttering closed as I picture Finn in distress.
Liam continues. “I managed to get him clean with a plugged sink and a washcloth, avoiding his face and keeping him well away from the spray, but he just stood there sobbing.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
A pause. “He’s somewhat calmed down now. He just… he isn’t going to sleep, and I don’t know what to do.”
My heart splinters when I hear the panic in Liam’s voice. “Do you usually read him a story? Maybe find something to distract him until he tires?” I feel utterly useless but I don’t have it in me to not try to help.
Liam sighs. “Christ, how did I not think of that? He usually likes to read.”
I sit up straighter. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Try reading him a story, get him engaged in conversation or participation. Let him think, it’ll tire him out.”
“Aye. I’ll give it a shot.”
A small smile tilts my lips. “Good luck.”
“Anna?” he says, his voice tight.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Of course,” I reply.
“I mean it. I owe you one.”
“Call me when he’s asleep?” I ask, mentally chastising myself as soon as the words leave my mouth.
What are you doing, Anna? Inappropriate.
“I will.” He hangs up and I drop the phone on the cushion beside me, dragging out an extended breath, and I catch myself counting the minutes until my phone rings again.