Sam cringed. She had been trying to keep the whole thing under wraps. The last time her mum and dad had got involved; it complicated matters, so she had wanted to keep this one to herself. And Kate knew that!
“Is it anyone we know?” her mum asked.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“His name is Dean Fletcher. His parents live next door to me,” Kate offered, and promptly received another sharp blow to her ankle for her troubles. “Ow!”
“Dean?” Mrs Litton said.
“He’s a soldier.”
“A soldier?” Mr Litton seemed a little more wary.
“I’m going to kill you,” Sam said under her breath, and Kate grinned.
“That’s not your usual type,” her dad said.
“It’s no big deal,” Sam said trying to calm the excitement down. “We haven’t been going out long.”
“Two months,” Kate mouthed.
“And are we going to meet this young man?” her dad asked.
“Not for a while,” Sam said. “He’s off to Afghanistan in a few weeks.”
“Oh.” The mood changed.
“What’s he like, Kate?” Mrs Litton asked.
In an instant Sam was put aside and Kate was asked to describe Dean to her parents. Afghanistan, Sam thought. Yes, that was something of a conversation-stopper. Only a few more days and he would be back from training and getting ready to go out. Sam looked up.
“Well, at least if he’s on the other side of the world I won’t have to worry how he’s treating you, will I?” her dad said.
“Dad!”
“I’m sorry, but that Rick fellow was bad news, Sam. He treated you exceedingly badly and you refused to see it. I guess you were just too young and too besotted.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Now look what you’ve started.”
“Sorry,” Kate whispered back, unconvincingly. “We’re just trying to look after you, love,” said her mum.
Sam’s dad changed the subject and the meal continued. At the end Mr Litton thanked Kate for staying to tea and told her she was welcome to come again anytime. Sam declared that she was not.
Kate left soon after. Sam waved her off and then took Humphrey upstairs again. She sat down on her bed and thought back to the last time she had seen Dean.
It had only been a quick visit. Dean had turned up at her school five minutes after the bell and surprised her while she was clearing up the classroom at the end of the school day. Sam had felt awkward when Dean started to make a move on her while people were still in the building. Dean had been very persuasive, obviously turned on by the whole schoolmistress thing. Had she been a different person, Sam might have had a great time. Nobody surprised them, no one even came in after he had gone, but it was all too stressful for Sam and eventually Dean gave up trying and left.
Sam finished tidying the classroom and battled with the guilty feeling that she was probably a disappointment as far as girlfriends were concerned. Oh well, she thought at last, there was nothing she could do about it now. Hopefully she could make amends when he got back from training in a couple of weeks.
Sam got up from her bed and walked over to where her big flower press lay on a pile of large books on the floor. Soon, she thought. Soon she would find a house of her own and then she would have a place for everything. She picked up the flower press and lugged it over to the bed. She sat down and patted the space beside her. Humphrey needed no second bidding. He jumped up and made himself comfortable. Sam hugged him to her and then played with his ears. “If only all men were as easy to love as you, Humph,” she said.
Sam carefully opened up the press and counted out the flowers she had saved there. Thirty-two. Good, that gave her one each for every child in her class and a few left over for mishaps, and knowing little Jimmy Richards there were bound to be mishaps. She had seen her flowers turned into crowns, fairies, the sun and endless footballs, but it was those with the imagination to see beyond the obvious that always excited her. She closed the press again and placed it onto her desk with her school diary and the verse she had written out about flowers to go on the classroom wall. She sat back down. “Do you want to go for a walk, Humph?” Humphrey was on his feet in a flash, his stubby little tail wagging eagerly. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”
Dean called Sam once after he got back from training and Sam asked for his address out in Afghanistan, but despite him giving it to her, he was still too busy to catch up. The time passed when he was due to leave and Sam had heard nothing. She wrote, not too emotionally, as she was still a little unsure about whether he would actually get the letter and who else would see it on the way. There was no reply.
Nearly three weeks passed and still she heard nothing. In place of eager anticipation, she greeted the fall of the mail each day on the mat with the resigned habit of just checking.
On Wednesday, Sam had had a particularly wearing day in school. Jimmy Richards had been caught stealing another child’s tooth to try and extort extra money out of the tooth fairy. Bethany-May had managed to make her whole group of friends hysterical in front of a school inspector over a class pet hamster who had somehow been let out of his cage, (by whom she had yet to determine) and to cap it all off, Peter Davies chose that very same day to bring up his entire lunch all over Lucy Eccles’ lovely long hair.
Sam walked into the house and dropped her bike helmet and bag to the floor. Her mum walked out of the kitchen to greet her. “Oh. As bad as that, was it?”
“Worse.”
Sam’s mum ushered her inside and sat her down with a cup of tea while she heard all about Sam’s miserable day. She tried very hard not to laugh, but by the end of the tale even Sam could see the funny side of things and she felt a whole lot better. “It’s all right for you,” she said. “You only had one child to deal with, I’ve got 28 and Jimmy’s got to count for at least two.”
Mrs Litton laughed. “I’m sorry, dear, but you just couldn’t write the stuff you come home with,” she said, composing herself again.
“Something smells nice,” Sam said.
“Baked ham,” her mum told her.
Sam sniffed at her hands. “Ugh! I stink of sick.”
Mrs Litton smiled and told Sam to go for a nice warm shower and wash her hair as there was plenty of time before tea.
The following day, all was well with the world again. Mary Appleby had a nice shiny fifty pence piece from the tooth fairy, all the pets stayed safely contained and no one was sick over anyone else. Sam cycled home feeling much better about the world. Her job was great, she had a lovely family and the weather was finally starting to feel like spring.
Sam got in and hung up her things. She found her mum sat at the dining room table with the local paper spread out in front of her.
“Anything interesting?” Sam asked.
“There might be actually, yes.”
Sam walked around the table and looked over her mother’s shoulder. Mrs Litton pointed to a terraced house, on the other side of town, with a tiny front garden and next to a street light. Sam looked at the price and then read on.
“What do you think?” her mum asked.
“Well, yes. It looks okay, doesn’t it?”
“Shall we have a drive past and nose about this weekend?”
“Yeah, why not.” She grinned excitedly. Have you got anything sorted out for tea?” she asked.
“Not yet. Your dad