Chapter Twenty-Five
Sitting at the desk in his hotel room, Dan stared at his laptop, eyes scanning the newspaper article Pete had sent through to him.
‘Are you still there?’ Pete’s face peered at him from his mobile screen.
Why the man insisted on FaceTiming rather than just calling, God only knew. It’s not like he needed to see his ugly mug. ‘Yes, just taking it in.’
‘Seems you’ve found one woman who doesn’t want to slag you off to the press.’
‘She told me she’d spoken to them. I assumed it was to defend the school. Not . . .’ Emotion choked him and he couldn’t say the words.
‘Not to defend you,’ Pete filled in for him. ‘But she did, beautifully. She must have made one hell of an impact on that journo to make him retract what he said a few days ago.’
Dan traced the words on his computer screen; integrity, kindness, willing to put himself out to benefit the school.
The things Anna had said to his face on Monday were also what she’d put her name to, publicly.
Despite the fact she’d known, from day one, that his desire to help at the school had been down to pure self-interest.
‘I take it the pair of you are still going strong?’ Pete’s voice crashed into his thoughts.
‘We’re still seeing each other, yes.’ As to whether they were going strong, he thought so, yes.
But when he’d tried to push, to basically ask to stay the night with her all this week, she’d quickly reminded him he’d promised not to rush her.
Sadly being patient didn’t come naturally to him.
He was trying to learn it, but it was hard when he wanted more than she was willing to give.
More than eating dinner with her, as he had all week.
He wanted to go to bed with her every night.
Wake up next to her. So far he’d only managed the bed part on Tuesday, after which she’d got dressed and gone home.
Dragging himself back to the hotel the last few nights following an hour of making out on the sofa after Maisie had gone to bed, had been murder.
‘And after next week?’
Was it pathetic that he had the urge to cross his fingers? ‘We’ll still be seeing each other.’
To his surprise, Pete started to laugh. ‘Bloody hell, this really isn’t just a fling to you, is it? You’ve gone and fallen in love with her.’
‘Now hang on a minute.’ Dan felt a shiver through him and as he dragged a hand across his face, he was alarmed to see it tremble. ‘I didn’t say anything about love.’
‘You didn’t have to.’ Pete’s image continued to laugh at him, as if this was the funniest thing he’d seen all year. ‘It’s right there, in your terrified blue eyes. Written all over your now pale and clammy face.’
‘I like her. A lot,’ Dan muttered, knowing it was a colossal understatement. Already she’d become such an important part of his life that he dreaded going home tonight without her.
‘So I can see,’ Pete replied, his tone one of dry amusement. ‘Right, well, good luck with the dress rehearsal today. I hope the lady you like, is bowled over by it.’
‘Me too,’ Dan answered heavily, trying to ignore the nervous flutter inside his stomach. ‘Me, too.’
* * *
A few hours later, as he sat at the back of the school hall and watched The Play About a Nativity unfold, Dan’s nerves were fast receding.
Bloody hell, these kids were good. He’d been through the lines with them so many times it had started to become stale, yet seeing the whole play for the first time, he got a tingle down his spine.
There was Taran (aka Mr Patel) with his hands on his hips, shaking his head at the little tot who was playing the innkeeper. ‘No, no, no. When Joseph asks if there’s any room in your inn, you don’t say yes, of course, please come in.’
He stamped his foot for good measure, an action that wasn’t in the script but was exactly what Dan had tried to reinforce to them yesterday.
Don’t be afraid to do what you think the character would do.
And Mr Patel, the teacher with grand ideas, would surely be exasperated at his cast getting their lines wrong.
Now it was the turn of Riley, aka the nervous head teacher, Mr Sedgwick who was way out of his depth.
‘Mrs Potterington, I thought you said the children knew the play. You do realise tomorrow they’ll be doing it in front of an audience.
’ He visibly gulped, shaking his head. ‘A rrrrrreal, live audience. Full of rrrrrreal, live parents who don’t want to see their darlings fluffing their lines. ’
The boy could really act, Dan realised, listening to him deliberately stutter.
Of course there were times lines were forgotten, and props went wrong, yet the kids didn’t panic.
He couldn’t resist clapping when Priti, who was playing Mary, accidentally dropped the doll she’d been holding and Maisie (aka Mrs Potterington), improvised by admonishing her.
‘Mary, you’re not meant to drop baby Jesus on his head. You’ll make him as ditzy as me.’
Dan automatically glanced towards Anna, who, like Sid, had chosen to sit near the stage. She was smiling fondly at her daughter, her pride obvious even from the back of the hall.
The play rushed on, something he’d have to mention afterwards as they needed to slow it down next week. Soon the shepherds appeared from the door at the back of the hall, and everyone started to giggle, which of course wasn’t scripted. Still, Dan wasn’t about to deny the kids this moment.
‘OMG, you got a sheep.’ Riley looked gobsmacked as the guy from the Performing Animals Company, also dressed as a shepherd, led the sheep towards the stage. When the boys eyes found Dan’s he started to laugh, and laugh. Pretty soon the rest of the kids joined in.
Dan rose from his seat and strode down towards them, holding up his hand, unable to stop grinning even though he had a serious message to impart.
‘Fine, get the laughs done today so on Wednesday it will be the audience who are in shock. You’ll all be .
. . a live sheep, so? What do you expect?
This is a professional performance.’ His gaze found each of them in turn.
‘And take it from me, guys, with a few tweaks here and there, and providing Shaun the sheep doesn’t poo all over the stage, that is exactly what you’ll deliver next week.
Now I’m heading back to my seat to watch the rest. Mr Humphrey will, I’m sure, want to say a few words when you’ve finished. ’
* * *
Anna listened to the excited babble of the kids as they took off their costumes and felt her heart swell.
This is what performing should be about for them.
The fun as they laughed about the things that had gone wrong, the shrieks as they relived the moment they’d seen the sheep.
And then the emotion that tugged at Anna’s heart most of all; the pride.
Riley, former troublemaker, now didn’t bat an eyelid at giving up his lunch hour to rehearse.
Taran, still shy in class, was as vocal as the rest of them as they agreed how awesome they were.
Her eye caught Dan’s and he gave her a crooked, slightly cocky, slightly smug, very sexy, smile.
‘See,’ he murmured a moment later as he eased away from Sid and came to stand next to her. ‘All those hoops you had to jump though for the sheep were totally worth it.’
‘I’ll reserve judgement until Wednesday.’ Then she smiled. ‘I can concede that the play itself is amazing.’
His eyes sparkled, his smile deepened, and the smug and the cockiness were replaced with pride. ‘It is, isn’t it?’
She realised then that he thought she was talking about the performance.
‘The children were fantastic, you and Sid have done a great job, but I wasn’t talking about the acting.
’ His brow furrowed in a confused frown and she was reminded of the time he’d told her that most actors were crazily insecure.
‘The script is brilliant, Dan. The children have really put their heart and soul into this and yes, partly it’s because you’ve inspired them, but mainly it’s because they love the roles they’re playing. ’
‘Really?’ He looked . . . stunned. Like he’d not actually considered the reason the children had been so motivated to rehearse, and thus the play was so good, was down to his script.
‘Yes, really. You did say you were re-looking at that screenplay you wrote, didn’t you?’
He laughed then, a sort of bemused chuckle. ‘I thank you for your vote of confidence, but a script for a school Christmas play isn’t quite in the same league as a film screenplay.’
‘No? Both need an ability to write an engaging story that will captivate the audience.’
He shook his head slightly, but it was clear her words had touched him when he murmured. ‘Where were you ten years ago?’
Married to Chris. She saw the moment he realised that too, because he gave her a wry smile.
‘Sorry.’ He cleared his throat, glancing away, and she sensed he had something else he wanted to say so she kept quiet.
Sure enough, a second later his eyes found hers again.
‘I wanted to thank you for what you said to that journalist.’
‘I only told them the truth.’
Those lips that she found so kissable curved upwards. ‘We both know that was a rather glowing version of it, helpfully omitting the real reason behind me volunteering.’
‘The reason you came to us is nobody’s business but ours.
Fact is, the school has benefitted hugely from your time with us.
’ And so have I. Words she was too shy to say but by God, she felt them.
He’d reawakened her sensuality, given her back her femininity.
Reminded her that although Chris had died, her ability to find love again hadn’t.
She must have gasped, because immediately he reached for her arm, studying her intently. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes,’ she managed, ‘of course.’ Just because she knew she could find love again didn’t mean she’d actually found it. Did it?
‘I was wondering . . . umm . . . this weekend.’ Dan regarded her tentatively. It seemed she wasn’t the only one in the middle of a mini meltdown. ‘Have you got anything planned?’
She swallowed, her heart picking up its pace. ‘You mean other than obsessively taking Maisie through the lines she already knows by heart, back to front and upside down?’
‘Yes, other than that.’ He smiled softly at her. ‘Though I can help, if you’d like me to.’
‘You’re staying up here?’
His face fell slightly. ‘Err, no. I have to get back, because I’m seeing Max tomorrow.’
‘Oh, of course.’ So maybe he’d hadn’t been asking to see her.
‘But I wondered, well, hoped would be a better word. I hoped I could persuade you and Maisie to come back with me?’
Anna replied without thinking. After all, what was the point of investing all that brainpower when her heart knew what it wanted? ‘We’d love to.’
His face erupted in a wide beam of a smile. ‘Wow, that was easy.’
‘You thought I’d say no?’
‘I wasn’t sure. On Tuesday you asked me not to rush you,’ he reminded her. ‘I wasn’t sure if this constituted rushing.’
His expression was so earnest, she felt the tug of it all the way to her heart.
This was hard, sorting out her new feelings while trying to protect both herself and Maisie, yet it was clear she wasn’t the only one struggling.
She wanted to place her hand on that smoothly shaven cheek.
To kiss those lips that felt so soft, so sensuous against her skin.
But she was in the school hall, so she had to settle for a smile.
One she hoped would show him everything she felt.
‘It sounds like an exciting weekend for both me and my daughter. And I can’t wait to begin it. ’
He must have picked up on some of her signals because his eyes darkened to a sapphire blue. And when he told her he’d pick her up at her house later, his voice was an octave lower.