Chapter 14 #2
And one thing had become crystal clear—Clem wanted Spencer in her life as more than just a casual acquaintance.
She’d known that when they’d left the clearing last night, a knowing that was reinforced when she climbed into bed after a cool shower, imagining his touch, wishing for the weight of him on her, predicting the way the creaky bunk bed would have undoubtedly given them away.
Damned integrity is overrated, she thought begrudgingly.
Clem was yawning before the talent show had even started, and it made her laugh when she glanced past Lyndall and saw Spencer doing the same.
Lyndall laughed. ‘They’re contagious.’ The camp fire sent a glow flickering over her face as she looked between them. ‘I know exactly what’s going on here.’
Clem sat up a little straighter, her tiredness evaporating in a flash. Oh boy, they’d given themselves away, yawning in tandem, looking away the moment their eyes met. Had Harriet’s teacher noticed Spencer’s hand brush her butt when they’d left the camp kitchen?
‘Yep, I’ve seen it before. You’re originally from the city, right Clem? And your little cafe’s off the highway in Penwarra, so you probably hear the trucks and traffic through the night?’
Clem nodded slowly.
‘You’re probably not sleeping well because it’s so silent out here.’ Lyndall beamed. ‘No log trucks, no tourists or workers rattling past with dodgy mufflers. No cattle or barking dogs either.’
Clem sank back into her chair, relieved. ‘Yep, you got me.’
The teacher gave Spencer a smug grin, clearly pleased with her deductions. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll sleep heaps better tonight. That is, if the next two acts don’t make you nod off. I heard the boys doing a run-through earlier; it’s dry.’
Sure enough, Clem felt her eyelids getting heavier as a trio of Year 6 boys delivered a long-winded monologue about why their football team was the best, complete with player names, ages, goal tallies, average possessions per game, flags won, grand final scores and the nickname of every player who had worn the Collingwood guernsey for the last three seasons.
‘Make it stop,’ Clem moaned, sending Lyndall into a round of giggles. Spencer quickly started clapping the moment they paused. The shorter of the trio held up the clipboard he’d been reading from. ‘But we’re not finished yet. We were going to do a blow-by-blow of the 2022 grand final.’
‘You’ve excelled yourself already boys, that was pure passion.
Go the Pies!’ Lyndall called, gesturing the next performers onto the stage.
Clem stuffed a fist into her mouth to stifle her laughter.
The entertainment stepped up a notch after that, with Lachie stealing the limelight lip-synching to an Elton John classic in a gold wig and wacky glasses.
This was followed by an ear-piercing recorder solo that should have come with an OH I wouldn’t do it for quids.
Not without having a complete breakdown, and I’ve learned the hard way those aren’t half as much fun as they’re cracked up to be. ’
She said it lightly, but her eyes stayed glued to her chipped fingernails.
‘That sounds like more than a throwaway line,’ he said, remembering how distraught she’d been in the hospital and the brief details Jeff had revealed. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything, but if you ever want to talk …’
She gave a soft laugh, meeting his eye.
‘Maybe another time? It’s not the most romantic story. I’d rather focus on the future than rake over the past. And honestly, I don’t want to dive into the depths of my marriage, or everything that went down in the divorce.’
She tucked her feet up on the couch, a smile returning to her face.
‘Obviously, if there are any intervention orders out against you or anything I should be worried about, then definitely speak up. In fact, yes, please tell me that before we go any further and we can probably save each other a lot of heartbreak.’
Spencer let out a gruff laugh. He passed her a fresh cup of tea, smoothing back a strand of hair that had flopped over her face.
‘If I did have a violent background, which I definitely don’t, then the TV producers wouldn’t have touched me with a ten-foot barge pole, nor would the schools, and I’d have steered well clear of getting involved with the sister of a police officer.
I don’t want to talk about my wife, but there are no red flags there, I promise.
And as for Emily, I quickly realised that we were too different for things to work. Things feel right with you.’
‘I’m glad you had a good marriage,’ Clem said softly. ‘I can’t exactly say that about mine. If my ex-husband moved to Antarctica, I wouldn’t be terribly cut up, though that might be harsh on the girls.’
A noise came from outside and they both froze, staring at the door.
Footsteps sounded on the small porch outside the cabin, and a soft knock came at the door.
‘Mr H?’ Lachie’s quiet voice came from outside, and Spencer prayed he’d locked the door earlier.
Clem threw him an ‘oh shit’ look and silently climbed off the couch, gathering up her phone.
‘Just a minute, mate,’ Spencer called, clearing his throat. ‘I’m coming.’
He almost bumped into Clem as they hurried to clear away the evidence of a two-person supper, reminding him of the car park collision that had preceded their first kiss.
‘Two seconds, Lachie. Just trying to find my things,’ he called, buying some time. Clem’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
‘You should turn the big light on, Mr H, that makes it heaps easier to find things. And it’s freezing out here.’
This was what he’d signed up for, this was the exact scenario he’d faced on countless camps over his career.
As the token male teacher, he was on call for any boy-specific issues that might arise.
And until this Grampians trip, he’d risen to the challenge without falter.
But as Clem squeezed past, grabbing his butt and pressing a kiss onto his cheek before shutting herself in the bathroom, he was aware there was something else rising to the challenge, and it wasn’t his flawless teaching record.
Clear your head, man. This is work, not a dirty long weekend.