Page 115 of Teach Me Dirty

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“Stop!” I said. “Jenny, just stop it.”

“I can’t, Mark. It’s going to end badly for everyone if this carries on.” She sighed. “You’ll thank me for it one day.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Her eyes widened at my words.

I struggled to explain. “Helen’s a great student, in the middle of her exam preparations. She doesn’t need your well-meaning interference.”

“It’s not her I’m looking out for,” she snapped. “It’s you!”

“So look out for me. You’ve expressed your concerns, I’ve said there’s no need for them. End of conversation.” I put the cans back on the shelf. “Just let me do my fucking job.”

Her jaw dropped at my language. “I’m trying to safeguard your job, Mark.”

“You don’t need Kenneth’s involvement to do that, Jenny. Just trust me.”

She shook her head. “You’re playing with fire.”

“So let me. Christ, Jenny, come and watch Helen if you must. Watch me. I don’t care, just don’t bring loads of red tape into it, that’s no good for anyone.”

Her eyes flashed with something that made my stomach lurch. My heart was still pounding, nausea threatening.

“I’ll be watching,” she said.

She left without even telling me what she’d wanted.

And all I could do was shudder.

***

Helen

It felt like an age before Mum left for the night and Katie was in bed. My hands were shaking when I dialled his number and it felt ridiculous. I’d been in his bed for two whole weeks, and just one day back in stupid school had reverted me to a nervous wreck.

“Helen… I was wondering if you’d call.”

“Mum just left,” I said. My insides were a bag of jitters. “Today, was it ok? What did she…”

He paused, and I heard him light up a cigarette. “We sailed far too close to the wind. Her alarm bells are truly ringing.”

My gut twisted. “Oh God… what are we… what can we…?” And then there was a lump in my throat. “Do you think we should… if you want to…”

“If I want to what?”

I made myself take a breath. Made myself say it. “If you want to stop…”

And he laughed. He actually laughed. “Christ, Helen. Don’t be such a drama llama.”

The relief flooded me, and I laughed, too, even though it came out all jagged and breathless. “I was really worried.”

“I wasn’t quite soaring high myself, Helen.” He sighed. “Look, the situation is what it is. We’ll be a bit more careful from now on. That’s all we can do.”

“Is it? Because if you want to… I’d understand…”

“Are you getting cold feet?”

I laughed at the craziness. “No. Not at all. Never.”

“And neither am I. Like I said, we’re a bit more careful from now on. That’s all we can do.”

“I won’t let you lose your job over this… I promise… I would never…”

“Stop it,” he said. “Don’t plan for the worst. There’s no point. What happens now, happens.”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Why don’t you worry about your coursework and let me worry about my career, Helen?” He paused. “That’s what I want you to do. Can you do that?”

I sighed. “Yeah, ok. I can do that.”

“That’s my girl.”

And I was his girl. Always. “Mum and Dad think I’m with Harry Sawbridge anyway, that should give us enough cover for the weekends.”

“It does provide a useful smokescreen at least.”

I smiled. “They think he’s making me very happy. Extremely happy. They think he’s a thoroughly nice young man.” I closed my eyes, just to feel him. “I wish I could tell them.”

“Maybe one day.”

“Maybe.”

I could just imagine Dad’s face. I tried not to. Maybe I could tell him this year, next year, sometime never. Sometime never in a million years.

I started at a noise upstairs, footsteps then whining.

“I need a drink, Helen! I’m thirsty!”

I put the phone to my shoulder. “Yeah, for the third time already! You’ll be wetting the bed, little Miss Drink-a-lot!”

“Ewww! I don’t wet the bed, Helen! Gross!”

I put the phone back to my ear. “I’d better go.”

“Sounds like it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I could hear him pacing. “Low key, remember? Just to be safe.”

“Yeah, I get it. Weekends only.”

“Unfortunately so.”

“Goodnight, Mr Roberts.”

I could feel the smile on his face. “Sweet dreams, Helen Palmer.”

***

Mark

I’d have been a fool not to have considered it, the potential doom. More foolish than I was for losing my restraint in the classroom. The holidays had made it so natural. Too natural.

The option of resigning reared its tempting ugly head, but the idea made me feel nauseous. Defeatist, too. A whole school full of kids to let down, youngsters just finding their feet, A-level students just like Helen.

Not just like Helen.

And I didn’t want to resign. I liked my job. I loved my job. My home, too.

I paced around the place, weighing things up, but they refused to balance. They wouldn’t even come close.

I couldn’t give up on Helen, and I couldn’t give up on the rest of my life, either. All that remained was the inevitable gauntlet, dodging through the obstacles and just hoping I got a fair wind, enough to come out the other side unscathed. I didn’t rate my odds, but they were still worth betting on.


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