In a Class of His Own (11 page)

As the
band struck up a lively rendition of ‘Oh Christmas Tree’ I began
to relax a little. There were times when I’d thought the end of
this term would
never come. With a shudder I thought back to the horrendous training
day back in September. I remembered the hostility I’d encountered
from some of the staff and a warm glow enveloped me as I realised how
accepted I now was. And with Mum and Dad expecting Andy and Inez over
for the holidays, life was good.

Mostly.

Jack
stood
by the stairs talking to Ann. His back was to me, so I couldn’t see
his expression but they looked to be having an animated conversation.
In common with many here tonight, my opinion of him had changed
radically. He had won us over with determination, sheer hard work and
his unique brand of abrupt charm. And I’d certainly seen him in a
different light recently. A roller coaster travelled up and down my
spine as I remembered how jaw-droppingly gorgeous he’d looked
coming out of the wet room. I sighed lustily. But, as I saw Ann take
Jack’s arm and lead him onto the dance floor, the lust was quashed.
I frowned. I couldn’t figure out what he felt for me at all.
Sometimes I felt the flash of his attraction but at other times he
seemed to be deliberately backing off from having any contact with
me. Had I really misunderstood the signs; those longing looks and the
heated silences which flared between us so often? Or was it Ann he
was truly interested in after all? Her comments earlier had stunned
me and I resented feeling so jealous. I was beginning to accept just
how attracted I was to him but I couldn’t bear to make the first
move. What if I did? He was my boss – and my landlord now after
all. I closed my eyes briefly in horror as I contemplated the
potential awkwardness and embarrassment. It didn’t bear thinking
about if I had read the situation wrongly.

I
shook my head to clear it a little and distracted myself by studying
my dress. While
it wasn’t as elaborate as Ann’s I was still pleased with it. Mum
had tried really hard to adapt it and she had done a skilled job. In
the end she hadn’t found enough material to add a frill as well as
put something around the low neckline so had concentrated on adding
length. Like Ann I swished my petticoats experimentally. I hardly
ever wore a skirt, let alone a long one like this and I felt newly
feminine. I did however, have some concerns about the neckline. I
tugged self-consciously at the plain bodice. It was excruciatingly
tight and very low cut and I was worried that it was far too
revealing. Oh well, I giggled, I would just have to remember not to
eat anything. Or bend over!

“Nicky!”
called a voice. “Nicky, you’re looking gorgeous tonight!” It
was Rupert. He was grinning hugely. He took my arms, held them out
wide and looked me up and down, giving a soft wolf-whistle under his
breath. “My oh my.” He was openly staring at my cleavage. He
swallowed and then recovered himself. “I have to say, those
Victorians knew a thing or two when it came to fashion!”

Rupert
was looking pretty good himself, so I returned the compliment. He was
dressed in a dark frock coat which reached to his knees. Under it he
wore a gold brocade waistcoat and a high-necked shirt. A cream cravat
completed the outfit. It suited his long hair and good looks and made
him look rakishly attractive.

“Like
to dance?” he asked with an infectious grin.

“Love
to,” I beamed.

An
hour later I was leaning against a trestle table desperately trying
to ignore the enticing smells coming from the buffet. I took a long
draught of wine instead. I didn’t dare eat anything as I didn’t
want to risk bursting out of my dress. Not, I thought, a very
Victorian thing to do. I took another gulp of wine. I was hot and the
bones of my bodice were digging in painfully. I’d danced with
Rupert
until I’d begged him to give me a break. Dad had tried his hardest
to teach me some basic steps and I thought Rupert and I had made
quite a dashing pair on the floor. I’d certainly enjoyed myself. I
liked him enormously, there was something about his easy charm which
reminded me of Andy.

“Nicola!”
Mona swept majestically into view. “What a splendid evening this
has proved to be! May I top up your glass?”

I
accepted gratefully and fanned myself with a holly decorated paper
serviette. Then I did a double take as I took in her appearance.
“Mona,
you look incredible! Where did you get that dress from?”

Mona
did indeed look wonderful. Her low cut and tight fitting black dress
was studded all over with tiny droplets of jet. In her hair she wore
a great plume of glossy black feathers, again decorated with jet
beads. Every time she moved her dress caught the light so that she
shimmered exotically. There was something of the black cat about her
tonight. Sleek and knowing.

“Do
you like it? It’s one of my favourites.” She smoothed a
complacent hand over the skirt. “I wore it when we did ‘My Fair
Lady’ this year. It is rather gorgeous, isn’t it?”

I
choked on my wine. “Are you a member of The Players?” I looked at
her in astonishment. The Players were a local amateur dramatic group,
famous in the county and beyond for their high standards. It was
almost impossible to join. They’d even raised funds to build their
own theatre in the town.
I couldn’t imagine the starchy, reserved Mona being a member. First
yoga, then amateur dramatics. The woman was full of surprises.

“Oh
yes Nicola,” she said, with barely concealed pride. “I’ve been
a member since 1983. We’re doing ‘Six Characters in Search of an
Author’ next year. You must come along.”

She
smiled at my expression. She knew exactly what was going through my
mind and was enjoying
it a little too much. A black cat I thought again. And I’d been
right about the knowing air.

“Mona,
you’re amazing, you really are.” I began to laugh and then
trailed off as I saw Ann dancing yet again with Jack. A stab of
jealousy joined the pain caused by my bodice.

Mona’s
eyes followed mine. My face must, as usual, have revealed my
feelings. She put a lace-gloved hand on my arm.

“I
don’t think you have any concerns there
,
my dear.” She lowered her voice and added, “I think her
attentions are directed towards someone else.”

Startled,
I looked at Mona
and saw her nod in Rupert’s direction. He was standing near the
orchestra, chatting to Janice. He saw us staring at him, grinned and
lifted his glass in a salute.

“You
mean?” I couldn’t get my head around this. I thought back to what
Ann had said when we were getting changed. Could it have applied as
equally to Rupert as to Jack? And if so, how on earth did she feel
about me dancing with him all night?

“But
Mona, when did this all happen?” As the new information clicked
into place the music stopped and Mona hushed me. Thoughtfully, I took
another mouthful of wine.

Jack
got up onto the stage. I remembered now that I had suggested it might
be an idea to make a short speech at some point in the proceedings.
As he began to speak I looked at him anew. He too, was wearing a
frock coat but on him it gave the effect of immense power and of a
man at the height of his virility. He made Rupert
look like a dissolute youth; a mere boy. The dark jacket fitted
snugly over Jack’s shoulders, emphasising their breadth and his
legs looked endless in the narrow black trousers. His waistcoat,
glimpsed under the tightly buttoned coat was a deep maroon,
embroidered with gold thread. The matching cravat, with the pallor of
his skin and the rich darkness of his hair was an irresistible
combination.

It was hopeless, I
couldn’t deny my feelings for the man any longer. He was unlike
anyone I had ever met before. It was simple; I loved him.

I came
back to reality when Mona
poked me quite fiercely in the ribs and hissed: “Nicola pay
attention, Mr. Thorpe wants you.”

People
were laughing and smiling at me and,
as I looked around, I could see that they were gesturing for me to
join Jack onstage. I wasn’t aware of how I got there but I found
myself next to my headmaster. Master of the school and now of my
heart.

“As
I’ve just said there are many people to thank tonight,” he began,
in that glorious voice, as dark and creamy as Guinness. “And, as
I’ve
finally
been joined by one of my management team, I’d like to start by
thanking my Deputy. Nicola Hathaway took over at very short notice
and has - ”

I had to ask someone
later what Jack had said that night because the next thing I knew he
was putting an enormous bouquet of yellow roses into my arms.

He smiled down at me.
“This is just a small token to thank you for all your hard work
this term.” Then he came closer and amongst the applause he
whispered in my ear, in a voice so throaty it made my heart stir and
my lips tremble, “Happy Christmas Nicky my love.”

More
thank yous followed. To my relief Mona
and Ann both received bouquets of equal size, they certainly deserved
them. After all the speeches were over I leaned against the wall-bars
and watched as Jack made his way, through the crowds, to me. It took
time as firstly he stopped and shook hands with Angus Fairweather
with whom he then had a lengthy conversation. Then Mrs. Butcher
looked daggers as Meryl Homer gave Jack an enormous kiss and held
onto his arm for a totally unnecessary amount of time. Eventually he
fought them off and made his way over to where I was standing.

“I
haven’t had a moment to talk to you all evening,” he smiled, with
a rueful expression on his face. “Let alone ask you to dance.” He
grinned more widely and shook his head in disbelief. “That dress
Nicky - ”

Self-consciously
I put my hands over my cleavage. Whoever coined the phrase ‘heaving
bosoms’ was
right – mine were heaving so much they threatened to pop right out.

“Don’t
do that,” Jack whispered. “You look so-” but the rest of his
words were lost as Ann, Helen and Janice crowded up to us. Janice had
an enormous bunch of mistletoe in her hand.

“Kiss
her Jack,” she shrieked, waving it at us in a vaguely threatening
manner. “Go on, it’s Christmas. Go on,” she urged again, as
neither of us complied. “It’s unlucky not to!”

The rest of the group
echoed the words: “Kiss her, kiss her!” The other party guests
looked over with interest to where we were standing. When they saw
what was happening some of them joined in with the chant.

Jack looked utterly
mortified. He looked around nervously and a muscle began to pulse in
his cheek. Then, after an apologetic shrug, he lowered his head
towards mine.

I
can’t do this I thought, as panic assailed me. Our first proper
kiss and it’s being witnessed by two
hundred people. In desperation I turned my head away, so that his
mouth knocked against my ear. I felt heat flood my face with colour.

The
crowd around us booed good-naturedly.
Someone said, “That’s no good, you’ve got to kiss her on the
lips. Pucker up, Nicky!” If that was Janice again, she was a dead
woman.

Rupert
appeared magically at my side. “That’s enough folks. Show’s
over.” He smiled at Jack thinly. “I don’t think the lady wants
to play.”

Jack
straightened his shoulders in a decisive gesture. He gave Rupert
a wolf like sneer, took my arms in a painfully firm grip and kissed
me on the mouth. I heard the crowd around us cheer loudly and then
all sound melted away as I was aware only of his hard mouth pressed
against mine. But there was no tenderness there, only possession. It
ended as soon as it had begun. Tears of humiliation prickled in my
throat. Jack, with a cursory glance at Rupert and myself, turned on
his heel and strode away. A very willing Meryl Homer jumped forward
and took him onto the dance floor.

“Are
you all right Nicky?” Rupert peered at me anxiously. “You look
done in.” He folded my arm into his and began to lead me away.
“Come on, old girl, I’ll get us another drink.”

I knew I was drunk when I
began to flirt with Angus Fairweather. He looked astonished to be the
object of my advances.

“You
look really really really handsome tonight,” I slurred. “You
know.” I stumbled a little against him and fingered the lapel of
his velvet smoking jacket. “You know there’s a lot to be said for
the older man.”

Angus cleared his throat
and I heard his wife say, “Well, really!”

“Angus,
I think it’s time I took Nicola home.” I heard Jack’s voice, as
if from a great distance away. He began to peel me off. As the other
man demurred he added, “No, don’t worry. No honestly, it’s not
out of my way at all.”

Jack took my arm in a
vice-like grip and frog-marched me out of school. The winter air hit
me like a sledgehammer.

“Brute,”
I said, as I stood in the car park sulkily rubbing my bruised arm.

“Not
the best career move you’ve ever made, Nicola,” Jack hissed as he
went to open the driver’s door. Oh God, he sounded just like my
Dad.

“Don’t
think he minded.” Airily I waved my hand around and then clutched
onto the car’s roof as I swayed. “I think he was quite enjoying
it.” I started to shiver. It really was freezing out here. I
vaguely wondered what had happened to my coat.

“He
may have been but I don’t think his wife was,” Jack said in a
terse voice.

“Spoilsport,”
I said mutinously.

Jack sighed, “Get in
the car, Nicky.”

“But
I want to stay!” I wailed. A part of me knew I was behaving
appallingly but he was being so thrillingly outraged and masterful
that alcohol induced mischief drove me on.

“I
still haven’t danced with you yet,” I pouted. “And there you
are looking all lovely and,” I paused to hiccough, “everything.”

It was true. Grim and
unsmiling, he glowered at me. His eyebrows were locked into an
aggressive frown and his light eyes were colder than the December
air. It was hopeless; I still loved him, even when he was like this.
I sighed and beamed idiotically at him.