MacAllister's Baby (21 page)

‘He’s not giving me anything,’ Elisabeth said grimly. ‘He—’

They’d reached the head’s office, which opened immediately. Obviously Howard had been waiting for them to come and had heard the sound of their voices.

‘Elisabeth,’ he said, and, though Elisabeth hadn’t been nervous about speaking to him before, her stomach suddenly twisted at something in his tone. He was a fairly easygoing man on day-to-day matters, but he had very definite views about how his school would be run.

‘Thanks for meeting with me,’ he said. ‘Please, come in and sit down.’

Jo gave her a surreptitious squeeze on the shoulder before Elisabeth went into Howard’s office and shut the door behind her.

The office was painted a light blue. Elisabeth supposed it was meant to be soothing. However, the sight of the red-topped tabloid on Howard’s desk pretty much negated the effects of the paint.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier,’ she said, sitting in one of the blue chairs across from Howard’s desk. ‘I’d unplugged my phone.’

‘I did try calling you, but we need to talk face to face anyway.’ He sat in his own chair and toyed with the edge of the newspaper. ‘I was very surprised to see this story. I thought we had agreed about the level of media exposure.’

‘I know, and, believe me, I’m as upset about seeing Jennifer and Danny in the newspaper as you are.’

‘Your personal life, of course, is your own. And you know that you’re a valued teacher at this school. But I’ve already had several telephone calls from parents, not to mention the journalists ringing for comments. Jennifer’s father is unhappy about the story, and Daniel’s parents are understandably worried about how the attention will affect their son. Especially when their names are linked with a story about their teacher’s love life.’

Elisabeth gnawed her lip. ‘I feel horrible about it, Howard. If it helps, I can assure you that I won’t be seeing Mr MacAllister in a private capacity any more.’

‘As I said, Elisabeth, your private life is your own. I have nothing to say about that, insofar as it doesn’t impact the school.’

Howard was a nice man, Elisabeth thought. She could name other head teachers who would be hitting her with both barrels right now. ‘Thanks, Howard.’

‘However, I can’t let this grow any further. Angus MacAllister’s involvement with the school was on the condition that the children wouldn’t be identified. Given what’s happened, I think it’s best that he stop his lessons with the students.’

‘But—what about Jennifer and Danny?’

‘They can still compete. I’ve heard that they’ve made great progress. They’re a credit to the school. Tasha Cutter can take over helping them.’

Howard was not a nice man. How could he snatch away Jennifer and Danny’s chances like this?

‘They’ve made great progress, but that’s entirely due to Angus. You know what they were like before. And their last rehearsal was a disaster. Without him, they’re in danger of losing their confidence. And the competition is Saturday.’

‘I’m sorry, Elisabeth. We can’t afford to risk the school’s reputation or distract the other students. And, in any case, our agreement with Mr MacAllister has been broken.’

Pale with anger, she rose from her chair. ‘If that’s your final decision, I’ll have to accept it. But I hope you’ll reconsider.’

‘It’s my final decision. And please sit down; we need to talk about something else.’

She frowned, but sat. ‘Yes, Howard?’

‘I was hoping you could explain to me why you gave the paper an interview.’

‘What?’

‘I must say, I was surprised. You’ve always had excellent professional judgement. Why did you agree to speak to a journalist?’

She stared at Howard, who appeared to be serious. ‘I didn’t speak to any journalists. I’ve been avoiding them.’

‘Then how did they get these quotes?’ He held out the newspaper to her, and she seized it.

Same headline. Same photographs. She hadn’t read any further than the first paragraph yesterday. She skimmed down the article and then felt her mouth dropping open.

In an exclusive interview, Elisabeth Read told this paper that Angus, once voted the fifth sexiest man in Britain, had ‘swept her off her feet’. Though MacAllister has been linked with a bevy of beauties in the past, Elisabeth seems to be playing for keeps.

‘It’s early to be thinking marriage,’ she said, ‘but I want children eventually.’

And the celebrity chef seems to be getting straight A’s with the stunning teacher, who took a FIRST-CLASS degree in English literature from CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY.

‘He’s very talented,’ the statuesque brunette told us with a smile.

‘Oh,’ she said.

Howard was clearly waiting for her to say something more. She searched through the rest of the article, which went on in a similarly puerile vein, but didn’t find any more quotes.

Where had they got them? They seemed a little familiar. She looked at the byline: Clive Jones.

The Welsh tango-dancer. He hadn’t been after a date.

She folded the paper in half, and sighed deeply.

‘I think I have made a very stupid mistake,’ she said.

‘Are you saying you didn’t mean to give that interview?’

‘I thought I was having a private conversation.’

Howard nodded. ‘I see. Well, that makes this easier. Let me say, Elisabeth, that you are an excellent teacher, and your career at this school is not under review at this time.’

She hadn’t thought her stomach could sink any lower. But it did.

‘That statement sounds like it’s about to have a “but” after it.’

‘Yes. But you’re the focus of media attention, whether or not you meant to give that interview. I don’t know how long this story will run, but right now there are reporters outside the school. Jennifer and Daniel are minors, and we can take steps to protect them from public exposure. You are not. It’s June, Elisabeth. You’ll understand we can’t have anything happen to distract the students who are sitting their public exams.’

She saw what was coming. ‘Oh, please, no, Howard.’

‘I’ve spoken with the governors and it’s best that you take some time away from school. Until this all calms down.’

‘I see,’ she said, numb. ‘Is that all?’

‘Yes.’ She had to give him credit; Howard’s face was sympathetic. ‘I’ve arranged to cover your classes for this week, and then we’ll review the situation on Friday. Joanna Graham will take over your tutor group.’

So Jo had known. No wonder she’d been so worried. Elisabeth stood. ‘I’d better go and sort out the work for my classes.’

Howard also stood. ‘I hope everything will be back to normal very soon. And of course, even if you’re not here, you should go to the Kid Culinaire competition on Saturday if you like. You’ve worked hard to make sure those students do well.’

And she’d also done the one thing to ensure that they would fail. She nodded, and went out of the head’s office.

Jo was waiting for her in the corridor. ‘Elisabeth, I’m sorry. I tried to talk him out of it.’

Elisabeth shook her head. ‘I’ve been so stupid.’

‘I told Howard there was no way you gave that interview intentionally. How did they trick you into it? Did they call you out of the blue or something?’

‘It was Clive. Did you know he was a reporter?’

‘Who’s Clive?’

‘The Welsh tango dancer you tried to set me up with?’

Jo blushed. She had known he was a reporter, Elisabeth thought, feeling another twinge of betrayal.

‘The tango dancer’s called Dewi Thomas,’ Jo said. ‘I—I thought, since you were getting closer to Angus, you wouldn’t be interested in him. So I gave him a whirl myself this weekend.’

‘Dewi—he’s not called Clive?’

Elisabeth leaned against the wall of the corridor, feeling like the biggest fool in the universe.

‘The reporter was Welsh,’ she said. ‘I only talked to him because I thought you were trying to set us up.’

Jo looked stricken. ‘Oh, God, Liz, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m a total idiot.’

‘You’re not an idiot. You’re in love. You’re allowed to be ditzy.’

Elisabeth wiped her hand over her face. ‘I accused Angus of leaking the story to the press. And it was me who gave the interview all along. I hate to differ with you, but I am an idiot.’

The bell rang and the corridor started to be filled with students in their maroon uniforms. Groups of them stared at Elisabeth as they walked by. ‘Hey, miss, I saw you in the paper!’ one of them shouted.

‘Duck into the staff room,’ Jo recommended. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.’ She gave Elisabeth a quick hug and disappeared through the crowds.

Elisabeth knew how to fake a dignity she didn’t possess. She raised her chin and as she walked to the staff room she greeted each student who met her eye by name, and greeted every comment about the papers with a cheerful, ‘Good morning.’

Very quickly, she stopped hearing comments. Of course, that meant they were talking twice as hard behind her back.

By the time she got to the staff room she was exhausted. It was emptying out as the teachers headed for their form rooms for registration; still, she noticed, the news had spread. Her colleagues were less obvious about scoping her out than the students had been, but only barely.

Her sole consolation was that she knew Howard was professional enough not to have mentioned her suspension to anybody but senior members of staff directly involved, like Jo, before he told her himself. So she had enough time to get out of school before the rumours started to spread in earnest.

Before that, she had to plan work for her lessons for a week. And before that, she had a phone call to make.

She waited until the last teacher had left the room until she took her phone from her bag and turned it on for the first time since yesterday morning. It started beeping immediately with missed call and message alerts.

She ignored them, and dialled Angus’s number.

It was before lunch. The interior of Magnum was all white, clean lines, punctuated by bright flowers on the tables and abstract art on the walls. The entire centre of the room was taken up by a floor-to-ceiling round aquarium, which bathed the white room in a soft liquid glow. The fish inside it were live echoes of the flowers.

An architectural representation of Angus MacAllister: attention-grabbing, beautiful, with something alive and wonderful at the centre. Elisabeth touched a petal of a fuchsia gerbera in the vase next to her and went through what she’d planned to say. She’d had enough of the unexpected to last a very long time.

The door to the kitchen opened and Angus came out, dressed in chef whites that emphasised the darkness of his hair, the breadth of his shoulders.

She drew in a quick breath. The one thing she hadn’t been able to plan was how he reacted to seeing her. She’d run through all the possibilities on the tube over here: anger, bitterness, reproach, disappointment, indifference.

Instead, he was smiling.

‘Elisabeth,’ he said and his voice was so warm and throaty she wanted to curl up inside it and rest. He came towards her across the breadth of the empty dining room.

She hadn’t known what his response would be, but she’d known what hers would be. So she followed her plan and clasped her hands together so she couldn’t reach for him.

‘I’m sorry, Angus,’ she said. ‘I jumped to conclusions and accused you of something of which you were innocent without hearing your side of the story. Moreover, the source of the fault was actually myself. It was an unconscionable action and I apologise.’

He’d stopped walking when she’d started speaking, and now he leaned his shoulder against the side of the aquarium, his smile widening. ‘How many times did you rehearse that? You sound just like a textbook.’

‘A few times. But it’s still sincere.’

‘I know.’ He came a little closer. ‘You didn’t know he was a reporter, did you?’

‘No.’

‘You have to watch out for that in this business. One time in the early days I played darts with a bloke in a pub and read my conversation word-for-word the next morning.’

‘Well, I’m not in your business and I don’t ever intend to be, but it was a silly thing to do no matter what. And I shouldn’t have said those things to you.’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe not. But I haven’t exactly been backward with publicity for the past few years. It was understandable.’

‘You’re acting as if you don’t mind, but you must be angry.’

‘I was. I’m not any more.’ He closed the distance between them, and touched her chin with his fingers, tilted her head up to look her in the eyes. ‘I’m so glad to see you. I spent most of yesterday ringing your doorbell.’

She stepped back and it hurt much more than she’d expected it to. ‘I need your help, Angus.’

He narrowed his eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Has the school called you yet?’

‘No.’ He pulled out a chair for her at the table they were closest to, and waited until she sat before he did.

‘They want you to stop working with Jennifer and Danny.’

Angus sucked in a long breath, and then let it out. ‘Well, I suppose they’re nearly ready. If they can do some more practice—’

‘It’s not just practice they need. They need stability and a routine. If we change everything now, Jennifer will lose confidence, and who knows what Danny will decide to do? They have to practise with you.’

‘But if the school doesn’t want me—’

‘Then we need to find someplace else they can work.’

She saw Angus thinking, and she bit her lip, realising that she loved him just as much when they were working together as when they were in bed together.

‘They can come here,’ he said. ‘I’ll cancel my early bookings for the next few nights. They’ll be in a professional kitchen. Once they get used to it, that will help.’

She nodded. ‘Thank you. I’ll ring their parents to try to get permission.’

‘As long as you’re here with them, I don’t see how that will be a problem.’

She shifted in her chair. ‘I wish I were as certain as you are. Their parents might not be so keen on the idea when they find out I’ve been suspended from school.’