“Yes. It was hard work, but I enjoyed it, and I was very focused. I worked in Auckland for a couple of years, then eventually moved up the bay. Mom and Dad still live in Auckland, but they spend most weekends up here with Brock and Matt and the others, and it’s just so beautiful here.”
“Do you think you’ll ever go back to Nepal?” I ask.
“Maybe. It had extra meaning, though, because of what I was going through at the time. It would still be lovely, but it wouldn’t be the same, you know?”
I nod. “Do you miss teaching?”
She leans back in her chair and sighs. “Sometimes, although I still have a lot of contact with children, without any of the responsibility. Teaching is hard work and exhausting. The adage of them having all that time off with school holidays is rubbish—most of that time I spent reorganizing the classroom, planning lessons, or going on professional development. There’s so much paperwork involved now, too, so many reports. I don’t miss that.”
It makes more sense to me now, why she so wants a child. She feels she connects more to children, and they don’t judge her the way adults do. I guess she’s hoping she’ll get unconditional love from her child the way she obviously hasn’t from a man.
“So tell me about Daniel,” I say.
Her expression immediately becomes even more guarded than usual. “What do you want to know?”
“Where did you meet him?”
“At school. He’s the deputy principal at the primary school I worked at.”
“Oh?” I know it takes time to work your way up in education, so this surprises me. “How old is he?”
“Forty.”
Ten years older than she is. Again, I’m surprised.
And suddenly, I know what happened, and it all falls into place.
“He was married,” I say, and I can tell from her expression I’m right. “You had an affair?”
“No. I refused to sleep with him, so eventually he left his wife.” Her gaze is cautious; she’s waiting for me to pass judgment on her.
“He must have loved you very much,” I murmur.
She blinks a couple of times, and her eyes glisten. She drops her gaze to her glass. “He never loved me. I think he saw something in me that wasn’t there. He thought I was mysterious and elusive, and that once he got to know me, he’d uncover something rare and significant. He didn’t realize there was nothing special beneath the surface.”
Anger unfurls in me like a snake. “That’s bullshit. Of course you’re special. He’s like a miner looking for diamonds while wearing a blindfold. Just because he didn’t discover something he considered precious doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”
She lifts her gaze to mine then, and I can see her thoughts as sure as if they’re glittering fish swimming behind her eyes. She’s worried I’m the same—that I’m drawn to her quietness and her mystique, thinking it masks a fascinating soul, and that when I get to know her, I’ll discover she’s hollow inside.
I have a bite of my sandwich. “Fuck him. He’s an idiot.”
She gives a short laugh. “We concur on that, anyway.”
“Did he go back to his wife?”
She nods.
“What a cunt.”
“Marc!”
“Well. He is. And she took him back! Jeez.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m glad she did. At least I didn’t ruin his marriage.”
“You didn’t do anything. How can you blame yourself?”
“I was the other woman, Marc. I have to take responsibility for what happened.”
Understanding dawns. “The staff at the school blame you?”
She picks at the lettuce in her sandwich. “They assume I seduced him and asked him to leave his wife. I didn’t. He came after me, and I suppose I was flattered he wanted me enough to give up his family.”
“You loved him?”
“I thought I did. Until he was cruel to me.”
I breathe slowly to keep down the rage I feel against Daniel Maggot-head. All that matters is Poppy, and making her feel better about herself.
I push aside our plates and drinks and lean my forearms on the table. “Come here.”