Perhaps.... Perhaps Page 4

  With one leg on the seat and the other providing balance, she stretched towards the offending piece of cardboard. If only she were three millimetres taller, if only she had worn the higher heels today, she would have been able to reach. With a determined twist of her lips, she leant forward again. If only Luke were not her boss….. if only she could stop thinking about him and concentrate on her day. But that seemed beyond anything she could envisage at present. Aggravated, she let out a deep sigh. Why did he have to be here? Relationships were so much easier when they were fictitious.

  ‘That’s against every occupational health and safety regulation ever written, you know, and as your local representative I should inform you that if you fall, you will not receive one iota of compensation or sympathy from the school,’ Louise stated, as she strolled in and perched herself on the side of Flora’s desk.

  ‘Ahhh! Louise. You scared me half to death.’ Wobbling on the chair, Flora reached out to the wall to steady herself.

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t be standing on that chair. It’s unsafe.’ She tutted her finger at Flora as if she were one of her students. ‘You could fall and break your head.’

  ‘Don’t you have shopping to do or something?’ Flora snapped, uncharacteristically.

  ‘Nup. I maxed out my Visa card on those red shoes from Zomp. No money left until payday.’

  ‘I thought you cut up your Visa card.’

  ‘I did, but I still have the emergency one. Which leads me to my first reason for visiting…..do you think you could lend me a hundred till Thursday?’

  Flora snorted. ‘You still haven’t paid me back from the last time. Why don’t you ring your parents?’

  ‘They’re in Rome for two weeks,’ she stated. ‘Now will you please get down, you’re freaking me out.’

  Ignoring her pleas, Flora took another swipe at the picture. Her arms were not quite long enough. Maybe if she got a ruler?

  Taking advantage of Flora’s inability to reach over and slap her, Louise unscrewed the lolly jar that Flora kept as a reward for her students and picked through it until she found a black jellybean. Flora looked down, appalled. She hoped Louise had clean fingers, or at least a strong constitution. There was no way she’d be sticking her hand in there after the Year Ones had. ‘Hand me the staple gun, will you?’

  Louise looked around the desk and found it. ‘So….’

  ‘So…what?’ From previous experience Flora knew there was no point in contributing to a conversation beginning with ‘so’ until she knew the content. Louise hadn’t popped in just to pick through the lolly jar. She had a whole box of Cadbury Favourites stashed in her desk drawer.

  ‘So…. I gather you didn’t know Luke the Rumba Man is our new boss. Do you find it a bit spooky that he turned up here or what? It’s like fate or destiny or something.’

  Flora stopped mid-staple and looked down from her position of physical superiority. ‘You know I find it weird, and don’t call him Rumba Man. It makes him sound like some sort of degenerate ballroom dancer.’

  ‘Sticking up for him already, are we? How sweet.’ Louise took the last black jellybean and popped it into her mouth. She was not being very supportive. In fact, Flora was fast becoming convinced that Louise considered the whole thing amusing. If she was in a mood like that it was better to ignore.

  ‘Don’t be silly, I’m in shock for heaven’s sake; I can’t believe he’s here. I mean, I practically kissed the guy.’

  ‘Then, how will you be able to face working with him?’

  Yes. How would she? That was the question.

  Hopping down from the chair onto the desk, Flora tried to discount that little voice inside her, the one that had been reminding her for last two days that Luke had the most amazing eyes. It was a tenacious little voice and would not go quietly to bed. Flora, however, had always been one to believe in a strict bedtime routine.

  ‘I’m a professional. So, I guess I’ll have to deal with it, won’t I? And he is our boss.’ She could never engage in some sordid office romance. All that sneaking and subterfuge like an episode of Cheaters. It had to be bad for your health.

  ‘Well, I think he’s interested. He was staring at you all the way through that meeting.’

  ‘That’s because I was falling off my chair.’

  ‘Possibly. But it looked like more than that to me.’ She paused for a moment. ‘It would do you good to let go a bit, you know, let someone inside that little anal world of yours.’

  ‘I couldn’t, it’d be like incest.’

  ‘You’d make a nice couple.’

  P-lease, Flora thought. ‘How can you say that? You don’t know the first thing about him. He could be married or gay or anything.’

  Louise giggled and sucked the last of the red jellybeans into her mouth. If the conversation carried on much longer, Flora was going to have to get the emergency lollies out of the store cupboard. ‘Rubbish. We know heaps about him. Firstly, he’s not a sailor, and secondly, he has a nice sensible job. I think it’s also safe to assume he’s not a raving queen and as you said yourself, Flower, he is rather yummy. His arse is like rock and his eyes are totally swoon-worthy. I’m getting all excited just thinking about it.’

  ‘Why don’t you go out with him, then? It might distract you from shopping.’ Flora had had enough. Turning to her desk, she slid the staple gun back in the drawer.

  ‘As if I’d do that. You’re my friend! But if you hadn’t seen him first I’d be in there like a shot. Anyway, I’ve sworn off men until I pay off my Visa card.’

  It looked like Louise was in for a long dry spell. Her Visa Card debt was bigger than the Bank of Saudi Arabia.

  Flora sighed, resigned. ‘I couldn’t go out with him, even if he begged me to. He’s the Principal.’

  ‘He wouldn’t have to beg me….’ Louise laughed.

  ‘Erhmm.’

  A noise from the doorway made the girls jump, startled.

  ‘Er… ah… Luke. I didn’t see you there,’ Flora stammered, the colour flooding her cheeks.

  ‘So I gather.’ His arms were folded across his chest, his face disapproving, dark like. He’d heard every word they had been saying. ‘I think, in future, that type of conversation should be held outside of school, don’t you? It wouldn’t do for a parent to hear such talk.’

  Flora looked to Louise who was examining a spot on the carpet, chastised. Who cared about the parents? What about him, he’d just heard it all? She wanted to curl up and die.

  ‘We were only chatting,’ Louise mumbled, which made what they’d been saying seem worse, ‘and school’s been finished for over an hour.’

  ‘It’s not appropriate.’

  Flora could feel her body tightening as, desperately, she looked around her, wishing she could become one of the paper flowers growing in the crepe paper garden on the wall. Being caught discussing the merits of your boss’s arse by said same boss was not the optimum situation for showing someone your best professional face. What did he want anyway? Why was he here?

  ‘Were you looking for me, Luke?’ she asked, facing his stern regard.

  ‘Oh, um, yes. But it’s nothing important. You’re busy. It can wait. Is Thursday, after school, okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ she replied, turning away.

  She heard his footsteps as he retreated down the corridor. Thursday couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter 7

  Flora’s classroom was a reflection of her personality; clean, tidy and personable. It was also organised to the point of obsession. Resources were stacked in colour coordinated boxes that were never without lids and her work pad gave the week at a glance in such detail even monkey could have taken the class in her absence; either that or Imogene Burrows, aged six years and three months. She was a bright little poppet who often let Flora know her shortcomings as a teacher. Some might say such organisation meant Flora was staid or boring, but she liked it that way. Flora didn’t like the unexpected.

  So, at precisely three-ten the next a
fternoon she sat down for a chat with Luke. Happy that he was the type who was punctual, she had just finished arranging her desk when he stepped through her classroom door. She abhorred people who were tardy, like Louise, and so, knowing she couldn’t change the behaviour of others, had learnt to work around such failings.

  As Luke sat down opposite, Flora couldn’t help but notice the crisp shirt and tie. It made him look very handsome, indeed. She liked the way he was always so well put together. Coordinated.

  Another tick in his favour, she decided, as she stacked her papers in front of her. Not that she was interested. Not now that he was her boss.

  Nervous at the reason for the meeting, Flora had given particular thought to her outfit, too. Her glasses, at the behest of PJ, were stashed in her desk drawer and she had dabbed a drop of perfume on the back of each of her wrists. Yes, she knew this meeting was nothing, but it didn’t hurt to freshen up at the end of the day did it? Besides, Luke had no interest in her anymore. He’d made that perfectly clear from the way he’d been ignoring her all week. He wouldn’t even be able to smell the scent.

  Gingerly, Flora smiled into his eyes. The edges of his mouth lifted only marginally in return, doing little to soothe the seriousness across his brow. It was as if they were meeting for the first time, all over again. He looked grumpy.

  ‘Miriam told me you’ve been at St Bernadette’s for six years now,’ he said, consulting the notebook on his lap for accuracy and making a quick note.

  ‘Yes.’

  Flora wondered what other information he had written about her…. Nice bottom? Cute legs, maybe? But no… that would be unprofessional, the sort of thing Louise or PJ would write. Luke would have her name and address, those sorts of details that carried no weight of intimacy at all. She scrutinised him. His eyes were fixed on her face, as if he were trying to figure something out and his pen was tap, tapping on his notepad. Why didn’t he ask her something about herself? Why did he keep talking about school? It was deflating, to think he had no personal interest in her now that he had discovered they worked together. She supposed his thoughts on the subject were the same as hers and she could hardly blame him for that. He had made it clear to all that he was only here to do his job.

  Yesterday, Flora had overheard a conversation between James, Year Six, and Luke. They were standing on the other side of a library shelf at the time, and obscured by books Flora had froze, ears pricked, while they’d carried on about cars, of all things. Like an errant school girl, she had crouched among the dusty volumes of Encyclopaedia Britannica scrabbling for any snippet of information that may point towards his feelings but all she’d learnt was that James had his eye on a ‘chick’ with the most sensational rack and that he was thinking about asking her out but he didn’t know how to broach the subject. He’d been a long time out of the dating game. Did Luke have any pointers? Luke replied that perhaps James should spend a little more time thinking about his planning for the term. He, himself, had had little time for anything other than school and thus didn’t feel qualified to proffer any suggestions. It was not what she had hoped to hear but at least she knew where she stood.

  ‘Yes, this was my first job after I graduated,’ Flora replied, bringing herself back to the conversation at hand. If Luke was going to play it cool, it would be a doddle for her to do likewise. She’d been shying away from intimacy since she was ten. She watched as he scribbled something in his book. The muscle in his forearm tensed against his shirt. She quivered at the sight and attempted to block it from her mind in case he asked her something profound. There were far more important issues to consider than the way his biceps flexed as he wrote.

  ‘And you’ve always taught Year One?’ he asked.

  Guess that’s as profound as it’s going to get, she thought, sinking into her chair. If only he would acknowledge that he knew her. If only she could kiss that mouth. A small sigh choked in her throat and she coughed to try and hide it. She wasn’t going to be able to work with him. Who was she kidding?

  Luke looked up from his notebook. His eyes were intense. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Er… um… nothing… ’ she stammered, lifting a pencil one of the children had left on the desk and fidgeting with it. ‘Um, y-yes, I um, majored in Early Childhood Education at Uni. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher… or maybe a ballet dancer ….. but don’t all girls when they’re little? It’s like wanting to be a princess or something. Very unrealistic. So I chose teaching. Er, ahhh…. yes, I love children…. and dogs.’

  Flora cringed. She had no idea why she was blithering on about dogs and princesses. She didn’t sound cool at all. She sighed again, a pathetic breath that really couldn’t be excused for a sigh. If only she were confident like Louise, this would be far easier.

  Luke nodded again. ‘Any thoughts of a change?’

  ‘I’m not entirely sure what you mean.’

  ‘Well, five years is a long time to be in one class.’

  What was that supposed to mean? Was her contract not going to be renewed? Insecurity flooded through her. She could feel the blood draining from her face.

  ‘I thought maybe you’d like a move…. to another class,’ he explained.

  ‘Oh,’ she answered, relieved. ‘I suppose I would, to broaden my experience. But I do love Year One. It’s such a full year, very rewarding. The children learn so much.’

  ‘Yes, they do, and not many teachers understand the amount of work involved in the formative years. It’s labour intensive, not all play. From what I’ve seen over the past couple of days, Flora, you do a very good job. You have a lovely way with the children. They adore you.’ Luke’s eyes crinkled, his armour almost denting.

  ‘Thank you.’ Now if he would just acknowledge the almost kiss and clear the air, they could move on.

  Gathering his notebook and pen, Luke stood, pushing the small chair back into it’s place under the desk. ‘I guess that’s about it, then,’ he said. ‘It’s been interesting getting to know more about you, Flora. I’ll leave you to it.’

  What? No! Flora was aghast. She didn’t want him to leave her to it, no matter what promises she had made to herself. And what about the things he’d said the other night? What was wrong with him?

  Slowly, decisively, Luke walked to the door, where he stopped, paused. Then he turned back. ‘Flora…?’

  ‘Yes?’ This was it. He was going to tell her he wasn’t interested in an office fling. It was written all over his face. She supposed it didn’t matter; it wasn’t as if he owed her anything.

  ‘I meant what I said the other night,’ he said, his face softening. ‘Oh….and don’t try to hide the glasses. I like how they look on you. Very sexy.’ And quicker than she could make comment, he was gone.

  Flora pulled her glasses out of the drawer and put them on. She stared, bemused, at the space in the door where he’d been.

  Well, that was a first. A man had called her sexy. But what did it mean apart from the obvious? Oh, Luke was different during the week there was no denying it. His hair was smooth; his chin no longer smattered in a subtle layer of stubble, and his demeanour was brusquer, if that was possible. Positively Mr Darcyish. Yet, under that cool exterior, behind the work attire and guarded words he was the same man she’d almost kissed in the dark. His body was saying ‘stay away’ but his lips were telling a different story. No wonder he looked so tense. He thought she was sexy and now that he knew who she was, he was fighting it with every ounce of his being.

  Packing her bag, Flora considered the facts. What Luke had said was unprofessional. But it wasn’t what he had said but rather the way he had looked as the words fell from his lips. Luke was a bad, bad boy. A devil in disguise. She could tell. And as much as she despised herself for admitting it, she wanted to see how bad he would be. With a small smile, she locked her door and made her way out of the building.

  ‘Flora!’

  From the gate, she could see James, Year Six, running across the netball court. What could he possibly want at this
hour?

  ‘Flora.’ His chest was heaving from the burst of exertion as he caught up to her.

  ‘Hello, James, you just caught me, I was on my way home.’

  James stopped and ran a hand through his sandy hair. ‘I, um, wanted a word, if that’s okay?’ He looked uncertain.

  Flora stopped and turned, giving him her full attention. ‘Sure.’

  ‘You had your meeting with Luke? How did that go?’

  James was a sweet man. The students loved him. The parents, especially the mothers, fought to get their children in his class and not just because of the reputation he was building as a teacher. James was single and cute, in a bookish sort of way. He had shaggy blonde hair and a long intellectual nose. He spent his weekends canoeing the Avon River and hiking in the Hills, giving him the type of body women swooned over. Unfortunately, James was also twenty-five and Flora thought he still lived with his mother. He was not interested in becoming some yummy mummy’s toy boy.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘What do you think of him?’

  It was a strange question but Flora took it at face value. Speculation had been rife during the week. Everyone wanted to know more about Mr McDermott.

  ‘He’s very nice.’

  Luke was more than nice but that was one card Flora wasn’t about to admit to. Office liaisons were not well regarded at St Bernadette’s. The day the Henry, the gardener-slash-maintenance man had been caught in the sports shed with Miss Hopkins had left a scar on all of them.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  James’s eyes shifted, nervously. ‘Yes. Um… no… um… not really. I was wondering if…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do you have a copy of the Syllabus Documents? I moved house a few weeks ago and I’ve misplaced mine in all the upheaval. I need to finish my overviews. Miriam is on my case,’ he rushed.

  Flora looked at him quizzically. James never lost anything. He was as organised as she was, possibly more so. ‘Sure. They’re on the shelf behind my desk, help yourself.’