“Hi, Sam. Hi, Mrs Bailey. How are we both this morning?” Mary places her bag down on the kitchen table.
“We’re good,” I respond. “Mum recognised the date on the calendar this morning.”
“That’s great, Mrs Bailey.” Mary insists on addressing my mother by her surname. She says it helps her to remember who she is. My mum seems to like it too.
I look towards the clock. It’s almost eight am.
“I better get to school.” I give Mary a wry smile.
“Is everything all right?” she asks.
She watches Mum and me like a hawk and knows instantly when something’s wrong with either of us. I’m sure I look tired—Noah Stewart has been on my mind most of the night.
“Everything’s fine. It’s just this boy in my class got a bit upset yesterday. He’s only ten, but his mother died when he was five, and it was the anniversary of her death.”
I rush around the kitchen, collecting all the stuff I need to take with me. I don’t have time for breakfast, as is the case most mornings, but there’s always something available in the staff room I can eat.
“The poor thing. Nobody should be without their mother at such a young age.”
“No, I wish there was something I could do to help him.”
“You’re an excellent teacher. You’ll think of something.”
I collect my car keys while Mary starts to busy herself cleaning up the kitchen.
“I hope so.” I kiss my mother on the top of her head. “See you later, Mum.”
“See you later, my darling. Have a good day.” My mum gives me a massive smile. “You know what you should do for that boy. Give him and all the other wonderful children you teach a day of fun in memory of his mother.”
“That’s actually a good idea.” My mum surprises me with her suggestion. She’s clearly been listening to and following my conversation with Mary. Normally, when she’s occupied by a task like eating, she concentrates on that solely.
My mother’s idea continues to percolate through my head as I drive to school and then set up the classroom for the day. I grab a croissant from the staff room and mention the idea to a colleague of mine who agrees it’s a really good suggestion, but she warns that the cost might be prohibitive. I know her concern is correct, and I place the plan on the back-burner for the day.
I finish the croissant quickly and return to the classroom just as the children arrive. Noah comes straight up to me.
“I want to say I’m sorry for yesterday, Miss. I was very wrong. It won’t happen again.” I bend down to Noah’s level.
“I know it won’t. Thank you for saying sorry, Noah.”
“I will say sorry to Luca as well.”
“That’s a good idea. How are you feeling today?”
The boy’s bottom lip quivers. “Sad still but better than yesterday.”
“If you feel like you need to talk to anyone, then I’m always here. How would you like to be my special helper today? Can you give out all the books for me?”
He nods but there’s no joy evident in his wordless response. I hand him the books, and he walks away, looking deflated. My heart breaks seeing his despondency, especially after witnessing him breaking down in his father’s arms yesterday. I really want to do something special for Noah, and the rest of the school will benefit as well.
The idea of a fun day is perfect, paying for it on a limited school budget is not. Maybe there’s someone who can help—perhaps Noah’s dad can think of a way to raise some money.
I start the first lesson, maths and fractions. Lunch can’t come soon enough, so I can make a call to Noah’s father and ask for help with the plans now racing through my head.
CHAPTER FOUR
LANDON
“Sorry for choosing a venue that’s packed with children. I’d already promised Noah we could have dinner at this pub tonight before you asked to meet with me,” I apologise to Noah’s teacher as she takes a seat at the table I’ve reserved. “I’m sure you’ve probably had enough of children after spending all day with them, Miss Bailey.”