Learning to Dance Again (2 page)

A few minutes later
she scrambled to her feet. The sun had slipped behind ominously dark clouds that in true Shetland style had materialised from nowhere, signally the imminent arrival of rain.

She hurried ind
oors and made herself a sandwich for lunch, which she ate standing up watching the rain trickling down the kitchen window, silently cursing the fickle weather. She decided to go and visit Duncan’s mother after lunch, knowing she would get a few minutes to catch up with Marianne at the same time.

2

When
Duncan arrived at the school he sat in his car for a moment, gearing himself up to go inside. What he most wanted was to breeze through reception, pick up a coffee in the cafeteria then sit down with a newspaper for five minutes in the staff room. That had always been his routine before he had taken time off to do battle with bowel cancer.

He sighed and p
icked up his battered briefcase; it was time to face the music. He prayed people would ignore him and pretend it was just an ordinary day. Duncan plodded up the concrete steps to the entrance, slightly breathless. He paused at the top, surprised by his lack of fitness. He turned and looked down at the steps as if they had mysteriously become steeper during his absence. It’s just nerves, he told himself; don’t be such a baby.

As he pushed open the door, his worst fears were realised.
Sandra, one of the administration assistants, was crossing the lobby on her way back to the office.

‘
Duncan! You’re back! It’s so good to see you again.’

She flung he
r arms around him, while he stood awkwardly, watching over her shoulder as he noticed some of the cafeteria staff approaching, as excited to see him as if he’d been returning home from war.

There were hugs and kisses,
and gushing comments on how great it was to see him again. There were tears from Beth, who had recently lost her mother to cancer. Duncan had got to know Sheila at the hospital as they had sat through some of their chemotherapy treatments together. He was sorry to see Sheila’s daughter so upset, even though Beth said they were tears of happiness. He felt a strange sense of guilt he had survived and not Sheila.

He spott
ed one of his pupils, Gordon, looking markedly older and taller.

‘Alright Mr Robertson!’ Gordo
n said, and high-fived him as he passed by.

Duncan
grinned; now that was the kind of welcome he could cope with.

He decided to skip
his visit to the staff room and excused himself from his impromptu welcome party and made his way up to the relative privacy of his classroom.

He switched on his laptop to allow the ancient beast
enough time to warm up before the first lesson, and then turned on the electronic white-board. He took out his timetable and checked, for the hundredth time, which class he had first. Fourth year advanced; one of his favourites.

When the bell sounded
to signal the start of the class, a gaggle of twenty teenagers, casually dressed in the de-facto uniform of jeans and casual tops wandered into the room. Duncan was one of the few teachers that favoured the lack of formal uniform. He loved the individuality it inspired, although sometimes it seemed to produce its own peculiar sense of conformity. The boys all wore jeans and football shirts. The girls however, were a little more interesting in their appearance, although he could never voice his opinion on this without sounding like a pervert.

‘Hey Mr Robertson! You’re back – that’s so cool!’ Shona said, as she floated into the classroom in a waft of expensive perfume. She was one of the fashion icons in her year, and today she was wearing the skinniest of jeans, a pair of glittery ballet pumps and what appeared to be a mini-dress over the top. It was a strange combination in Duncan’s opinion, but Shona seemed to carry it off, and as he watched the other girls take their seats he noticed that wearing dresses over the top of jeans had somehow become the norm.

‘
Can we celebrate you being back at school with a homework-free week?’ Shona said, giggling as she took her seat at the back of the class.

‘No chance!
In fact, I might even set you a bit of a test later this week; just so I can catch up with how you’re all doing. Don’t forget you have your exams soon.’

There was a
collective groan, amid the clattering of books and bags being dumped on desks, and pencil cases being unzipped.

He gave them a moment to settle down.

‘OK guys. As you can see, I’m back. Thanks for all your cards and good wishes while I was away. I really appreciated it. And there’s no doubt all the support I received helped me to knock the cancer on the head.’

There was a spontaneous r
ound of applause, and when two girls stood up in the front row, the rest of the class quickly followed.

‘Well,’
Duncan said, as the applause died away and everyone sat down again, ‘that’s the first time I’ve ever had a standing ovation in a maths class. In fact that’s probably the first time in history any maths teacher has had a standing ovation. Thanks!’

He
felt touched by their welcome, and took a deep breath before speaking again, noticing a slight discomfort in his chest as he did so. He ignored it and continued to speak.

‘OK then, shall we talk about what you’ve all being doing in my absence – and let’s just keep
this to what you’ve learned in maths, I don’t need all the gossip thanks!’

Within
fifteen minutes he felt like he’d never been away.

When it was time for lunch Duncan opened the door to the staffroom and discovered to his surprise it was almost empty, and the only person in the room was someone he didn’t know.

He
said hello and walked over to the kitchen area and made himself a coffee and opened up his lunchbox. Inside was a healthy salad, some fruit and a yoghurt. He missed the good old days of sandwiches, crisps and a bar of chocolate. He frowned as he picked at the chicken salad. He was hungry, but the food seemed unappetising, although he wasn’t really sure what he fancied.

He drank the coffee whilst flicking through a newspaper
he found abandoned on a table. He ate half his banana but threw the rest away. He had a fierce craving for chocolate so he wandered off to the cafeteria, safe in the knowledge Julia wouldn’t get to hear about it; she had become such a nag about his diet.

‘Hey Duncan; how’s it going?’

He turned to see Helen and Maria, fellow teachers, walking through the cafeteria carrying trays.

‘Great! First day back and already it seems as if I’ve never been away.’

‘Well nothing much has changed here. You haven’t missed anything at all,’ Maria said, as she put her tray down and gave him a quick hug. ‘It’s great to see you back. How’s Julia? We must have you both over for a drink sometime.’

‘That
would be nice. I think Julia’s glad to have me off her hands again. I don’t make a good patient; far too grumpy.’

‘Jesus,
I’d have been a grumpy bitch if I had to have chemo and all that shit. It’s barbaric what they do to cure you isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, but it works.’

‘True; thank God!’

Duncan
excused himself and went off in search of chocolate, but by the time he had bought a bag of chocolate buttons he had gone off the idea. He was feeling weary. He looked at his watch; he wouldn’t be home for another three hours and he couldn’t wait to have a lie down.

The bell rang for the start of the afternoon session. A group of gangly sixth-form pupils shuffled in to the classroom; all chatting loudly to each other and scarcely seeming to notice Duncan. As he waited for them to sit down, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him, and he regretted not eating properly. He opened his desk drawer and reached for a bottle of water and took a sip, and glanced out of the window, momentarily distracted by the sight of rain. There was silence in the room as he replaced the cap on the bottle.

He realised
everyone was staring at him, but he lost his train of thought for a moment and couldn’t think what to say.

‘Mr Robertson, a
re you back for good now?’

‘Er
, yes I am.’

‘That’s great; only we’ve had some bonkers supply teachers while you’ve been away.’

‘Bonkers?’

‘Yeah, for one w
eek we had Miss Duffy yeah, she’s the new drama teacher. She couldn’t even spell trigonometry, let alone teach it.’

‘Sorry about that. Let’s see what catching up we have to do for your Highers then?’ And with that they got down to the business of the maths lesson.

The class had their heads down working on an example exam questi
on. It was quiet in the room. Duncan glanced up at the clock; just over an hour to go until he could go home. He still felt sick and couldn’t wait to shut his eyes and go to sleep. He was beginning to wonder whether it had been too soon to return to work after all.

The
rain had stopped and the sun had come out again. It had quickly warmed up the classroom and now it was unbearably hot; although as Duncan looked around the room he realised none of the pupils seemed to be unduly bothered. He retrieved a tissue from his pocket to wipe away a trickle of sweat running down his face, noticing as he did, that he had pins and needles in his hands. He took a deep breath. His chest felt as if someone had sat on him, and just when it occurred to him this was something new to worry about, he was overcome with an insistent urge to vomit. Without time to run to the bathroom he reached for the wastepaper bin and threw up.

He was aware of the
sudden uproar in the classroom; cries of disgust and chairs scraping across the floor, as pupils stood up in horror.

‘Mr Robertson, are you alright?’

‘Oh my God, that’s disgusting.’

‘Ewww! That stinks.
’

‘Shut up
, you moron!’

‘Mr Robertson! Mr Robertson, are you OK?’

Duncan staggered to his feet and then fell heavily to the floor. He heard a scream and then nothing. His eyes were open, but he did not see a girl from the front row rush towards him, or the boy sitting next to her run out into the corridor, yelling for help. He did not feel the girl rolling him on to his back and tugging at his tie to undo it, her hands trembling at the shock of having to put her newly acquired first-aid skills to use. He did not feel her start to do chest compressions, nor hear the sound of her urgent whispered plea to God.

3

Duncan’s mother
, Alice, was a resident of St Ninian’s, the care home Julia used to manage. Julia had seen her mother-in-law almost every day for the last few years at work, and had continued to visit her frequently after she had resigned. Not that Alice ever noticed. She was suffering from the advanced stages of dementia and did not recognise anyone. But Julia remembered Alice as the kind-hearted energetic woman she had been years ago, and was determined to make sure her last days were comfortable.

Julia opened the front door to the care home,
setting off the automated alarm as she did so. Marianne stuck her head out from her office to see who had arrived. When she saw it was Julia she grinned and came out to meet her.

‘
I was going to ring you this very minute. How’s Duncan getting on today?’

‘I haven’t really heard from him apart from one
quick text this morning to say it’s been great so far, but he’s knackered and can’t wait for home time.’

‘Poor love;
he will find it tiring at first. Still, at least it’s not long to go until the summer holidays. My lasses are already counting down the weeks.’

Julia sat in one of the arm
chairs in the office and glanced around quickly, noticing the many changes Marianne had made since she had taken over as manager. The office seemed more colourful, with the addition of some plants, pictures and a collection of porcelain sheep that had somehow migrated from Marianne’s home to her office. Julia picked up a black sheep and smiled, before putting it back.

‘How’s Alice today?’

‘Hmm, that’s the other thing I was going to ring you about. She had a very poor night. She was crying a lot and calling out for her mother. She seems to be in a bit of discomfort, so we gave her some meds and it settled her a little; but we haven’t been able to take her to the day-room for a few days now.’

‘That’s not good;
I’ll get Duncan to come along and see her tonight. I don’t think it will be long now, do you?’

Marianne shook her head sadly.

‘I’ll go in see her. Are you busy just now?’

‘No; I’ll come
too.’

They walked along the corridor to Alice’s room. The bedroom
curtains were partially drawn and Alice was curled up in her bed like a baby. The cot sides were up and one frail hand gripped the bar. She was muttering to herself.

‘Hello Alice,’ Julia said
, ‘how are you? Duncan’s back at work. I think he’s enjoying it so far. Isn’t that super?’

Julia smiled
at Marianne as she spoke. They knew Alice was oblivious to what was being said, but it had always been their policy to be cheerful and chatty with their residents, regardless of their ability to communicate. Who really knew what it was like to suffer from dementia after all?

Marianne went over to the window a
nd opened the curtains a little to let in some light. Julia sat down on the chair next to the bed and reached out to put her hand over Alice’s. It was cool to the touch, so she took Alice’s hand in both of hers to warm it. Alice opened her eyes and stared vacantly at Julia. Julia smiled, wishing her mother-in-law could hear the good news about Duncan, although thankfully she had never even known her son was ill. Alice had lost her eldest son Martin in a car accident when he was fifteen, and her husband had died four years after that. She had had more than her fair share of heartbreak already.

‘So, are you going to apply
for that job then?’ Marianne said.

‘I don’t think so. Duncan thinks I should wait until after the summer before looking for another job
. He wants us to have a long holiday together. He’s decided he wants to take me to Sicily this summer, for a second honeymoon.’

‘Nice! Did you watch that programme last nigh
t?’

‘That’s
what inspired him. He wants to see what life is like on a hot sunny island.’

‘Don’t we all?
I’m sick of this sodding cold and rain. It’s the middle of April already and we’ve barely seen the sun this year.’

‘This morning was nice. I had a lovely walk to the beach; well not much of a walk really
, more sitting around wondering what to do with my life, than actually walking.’

‘I’
m glad you’re not applying for the job actually. I think you should have your old job back.’

‘How’s that going to hap
pen? You’re in it now, you cow.’

Marianne laughed and pulled a face at her.

‘OK; can you keep a secret?’

Julia turned away from Alice and directed her full at
tention at Marianne.

‘I’m going to be a grandmother!
’

Julia stood up quickly, her hands covering her mouth in surprise.
Then she threw her arms around Marianne and hugged her.

‘
Oh my God; that’s amazing. I take it you mean Rachel’s pregnant, not Sophie or Isobel.’

‘Thankfully yes; a
lthough, between you and me, even Rachel’s a bit young. I wish they’d waited a little bit longer; Ivan’s only just started his new job, so money’s going to be so tight for them.’

‘You were younger – so was I.’

‘I know, I know.  Anyway, it’s early days, so nobody knows except the grandparents – and now you.’

‘I won’t tell a soul.’

Julia sat down and reached for Alice’s hand again.

‘Anyway, what has becoming a grandmother got to do with your job? Yo
u’re not going to give it up are you?’ Julia said.

‘Well,
I was thinking about it. Rachel wants to go back to work afterwards; well needs to really. They can’t manage on one salary. And the cost of childcare…’

‘
But they’d be entitled to tax credits or whatever they’re called now, and there’s a couple of really good nurseries in town.’

‘That’s true – but actually I offered. I can’t wait to be a granny
– a full time professional one.’

‘I know, but this is your career you’re talking about. You worked so hard to get this job.’

‘It’s just a job though, and as much as I love working here, I’d rather be at home with a peerie bairn again.’

‘Yes, I suppose I would too,
’ Julia conceded.

‘So there you go; t
his time next year the job will be free again.’

‘That’s a long way off. I’ll have to find something useful to do before then.’

‘Lose weight, get fit, re-decorate the house; all those things you keep saying you’re going to do, if only you had the time.’ Marianne counted out the tasks on her fingers as if it was a well-oiled routine.

‘Very funny!’

‘But true though. Don’t hurry back to work. Remember, you’ve been through a really stressful time too. It wasn’t just Duncan who suffered. Take your time to get over it. Then come and get your old job back next year.’

‘Maybe you’re right…’ Julia said
, and was about to add something else when Alice  snatched her hand away from Julia, and screamed in fear of something unseen to anyone other than herself.

Alice
threw her blanket aside and struggled to sit up. Julia instinctively reached out to help her. Marianne hurried to the other side of the bed and gripped Alice’s elbow. But Alice started to flap her arms around and both Julia and Marianne stepped back a little, to give her some space.

‘What’s up my love?’ Julia said, soothingly, ‘everything’s going to be alright
; there’s nothing to be afraid of.’

‘
Duncan? Martin?’ Alice called, clearly becoming more agitated as she tried to get up. She started to weep and covered her face with her hands, her chest heaving with distress, and continued to cry out for her sons.

Julia watched in horror. A
lthough she had witnessed similar scenes before it was all the more distressing now it was Alice that was so upset, and it was hard to know what was causing it, other than perhaps some awful memory she had dredged up. It had been at least five years since she had stopped recognising Duncan when he visited.

Marianne looked at Julia and smiled sympathetically.

‘Do you think a sedative might help?’ Marianne glanced up at the clock on the wall, ‘it’s 2.30 now, if we let her sleep it off this afternoon, maybe she’ll feel a bit better when you come along with Duncan this evening.’

Julia nodded; but almost immediately
Alice calmed down on her own. She slumped back against the pillows and stared intently at something in the corner of the room. She smiled and lifted her hand as if she was greeting someone who had just appeared.

Julia turned to see what Alice was looking at. There was nothing
but a chest of drawers with a group of family photos on it. Julia picked up a photo of Duncan and Martin that had been taken when they were teenagers. She put it on the bedside cabinet so Alice could see it more easily; but Alice wasn’t interested in the photo. Her face had lit up in a picture of pure joy, and it was possible to glimpse the warm and friendly woman she used to be.

Julia drove home, saddened by the burden of telling Duncan about his mother’s decline in health. She parked the car on the driveway and sat for a moment, after she had taken the key out of the ignition. She stared at the white silk daises in the little vase on the dashboard; the flowers Duncan had laughed at when she first bought her beloved Volkswagen Beetle. She brushed away a tiny cobweb that had appeared on one of the daisies, and then noticed she had left her mobile phone on the passenger seat while she had been visiting Alice. She checked it for messages and saw she had missed five calls from the school. She looked at the time; Duncan would have left by now, so she didn’t bother to ring back. He hadn’t left a message, so it couldn’t have been urgent.

She went indoors and headed straight for the kettle to make some tea, wondering at the same time what she should make for dinner. She opened the fridge and took out some chicken and vegetables and decided to make chicken
in red wine, one of Duncan’s favourite dishes.

She s
et about preparing the meal, drinking her tea as she did so, and then put the casserole dish into the oven and washed her hands. She made a fresh mug of tea and carried it over to the kitchen window where she had a view of the road leading down to their house. She couldn’t wait to hear how Duncan’s first day back at work had gone. She rested her arms on the deep window sill and stared up the hill.

Their house
was at the end of a long narrow track that branched off the main road half a mile away, with the result there was never any passing traffic. Sometimes the house could feel isolated, but since they were only a fifteen minute drive away from Lerwick, they didn’t normally feel lonely. Their house was a place of tranquillity and peace. They had chosen the plot deliberately, as the perfect haven from the demands of their busy and sometimes stressful jobs - but it was also close enough to civilisation and their friends.

Julia was taking a
sip of tea when she noticed a police van meandering down the road towards her. She guessed it would be Jamie’s best friend Liam, who had joined the police force at the same time as Jamie had gone off to University. The boys had been friends since they started primary school together, and Liam had stopped by a few times while Duncan had been ill, just to see how he was getting on. Julia often used to joke he was their third son.

The van pulled up behind her car and Julia grinned and waved
as Liam got out. He looked world-weary and she wondered whether he had come round to let off steam about his day.

She went out
to the front porch to welcome him and opened the door as he approached.

‘Oh dear, you look like the world’s just ended. Come in and tell me all about it.’

Julia grinned at Liam, marvelling at how the quiet little mouse of a boy she had known for so long had grown up to be such a capable young man. He had become so much more confident since he had joined the police; able to talk to anyone. However, he didn’t seem very confident at this particular moment in time; in fact he seemed barely able to look her in the face.

Liam followed Julia
into the kitchen. He still hadn’t spoken, although the silence had been broken by the crackle of the radio he wore on his jacket. He fiddled with it instantly, turning it off as he took a seat at the kitchen table. Julia picked up the kettle to fill it while she waited for him to speak. The poor boy had clearly had a bad day and she had to fight the maternal urge to give him a hug.

‘Duncan wil
l be home soon,’ she said, as she switched the kettle on, ‘it was his first day back at work today.’

Liam leapt
up as if he had been scalded. Julia hurried over and touched his arm.

‘What’s wrong Liam? Has something happened at work?’

‘Oh God! I don’t know how to say this. I came to find you, because you weren’t answering your phone. Duncan has…Duncan… he collapsed at school. They called an ambulance and rushed him to hospital. But…’