It was a five-minute walk away, standing at the edge of the town in its own grounds. Her first class wasn’t till three. ‘The Splendour That Was Rome’, a two-month course of four classes a week, culminating in a trip to Rome where she, Tess Tennant, would be leading ten people on a tour of the ancient city. And here she stood, on a wet, grey street, shaking with nerves, wishing she could run back inside her nice new cosy home and stay on the sofa with Francesca, watching DVDs all day.
No, she said firmly. A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. Who could she be today, to get her through this? Maria singing ‘I Have Confidence’ in The Sound of Music? Too chirpy. Meryl Streep in The French Lieutenant’s Woman? Too…prostitutey. Lizzy Bennet. Yes, when in doubt, think of J. Austen on the wall and Lizzy Bennet. Calm, funny, her own person. Tess set off down the street with something approximating a spring in her step; if Lizzy Bennet was alive today, she reasoned, she could easily be Tess, setting off to teach Roman history to a group of retired posh people. Actually, she was more convinced Lizzy Bennet would be an ethical trader at KPMG, storing up a handful of assets in advance of any impending market collapse which she would then redistribute to deserving causes, but never mind. Twirling her umbrella, she tripped across the uneven cobblestones to the end of the street, where Lord’s Lane met the high street, the main road that led out to the edge of town.
‘Tess?’ called a voice from behind her suddenly, and Tess swivelled round wildly. She was unsure where the voice had come from; that was the unnerving thing about living in Langford, she had realized. You were never quite sure who knew you and who didn’t. In London, no one knew you. It was kind of nice. Sometimes.
‘Tess! Yoo hoo!’
Walking along the high street towards her was a vaguely familiar woman, neatly dressed in a Husky jacket and head-scarf.
‘Tess! Ah. I knew it was you,’ said the woman, smiling broadly, showing enormous teeth. ‘I said to myself, I bet that’s Tess!’
Diana? Carolyn? Jean? Tess asked herself wildly. Something like that. God, it’s on the tip of my tongue. Audrey? Jean? It’s Jean, I’m sure it’s Jean.
‘I’m doing your course!’ the woman said, proudly. ‘Present from Jeremy! Bless him.’
Jeremy…Jeremy and…who the hell was it? Tess racked her brains for the magic formula of garbled couples’ names. Something and Jeremy…And then realization dawned.
Jan and Jeremy! Jan Allingham! Of course. ‘You are? That’s great! Hello, Jan!’ Tess said, smiling brightly at Jan Allingham (for it was she), who held out her hand.
‘Well, here you are, here we are,’ said Jan, briskly patting her short, rigidly waved hair. ‘We’re going to be your first students, you know.’
Tess looked at her watch in alarm. It was just before eleven. ‘The first class isn’t till three,’ she said.
‘Oh, I know, I know!’ Jan cried. ‘I wanted to come a bit early. Get my bearings, complete the registration forms, have a look round.’
‘Oh!’ said Tess, weakly. ‘That’s very…That’s great!’
‘You enjoying being back then, dear?’
‘Yes,’ said Tess. ‘It’s great. Very excited about teaching, too.’
‘You seen lots of Adam, then?’ Jan asked, tapping Tess’s arm. ‘Shall we carry on walking?’ she said, as she carried on walking. ‘The two of you when you were little—so adorable.’ Tess smiled politely. ‘Isn’t it funny, when I can remember you peeing into a potty! And now you’re going to be teaching me!’
‘You only moved here when I was a teenager,’ said Tess firmly.
‘Oh, well, details!’ Jan cried happily. ‘Now, who’s this flatmate of yours, that gorgeously glamorous girl, the one who I keep seeing with your Adam? Andrea’s seen them together a few times, says they’re quite the item.’
Tess nodded. ‘Francesca. Yes. She’s absolutely lovely.’
‘So nice for Adam after everything—’ Jan mouthed the word everything. ‘It must be good for him.’
Since there was no answer to this but a short, sympathetic Mmm, Tess said, ‘Mmm.’
‘A nice steady girlfriend. And rich too. I heard she was a banker.’
They turned onto the high street, which was almost deserted, its shops dark and the houses forbidding, in the soft March rain. ‘I don’t think they’re actually boyfriend and girlfriend—’ Tess began timidly, but Jan interrupted her.
‘Diana! Hellooo!’ she called loudly, as a figure in front of them in a flared corduroy skirt turned around cautiously. ‘Diana! It’s me! You remember Diana, don’t you?’
‘Is that Tess?’ said Diana Sayers, walking towards them. ‘Hello, Tess.’ From under a short, severe fringe she nodded briefly at Tess, who smiled back, unable to remember where or how she knew Diana. ‘I’m taking your course, just off to have a look around and complete the registration forms, all that.’
‘Oh! How nice,’ said Tess, her mind racing. Vicar? Baker? Candlestick maker? ‘That’s—’
‘Bit of a busman’s holiday for you, isn’t it, Diana?’ Jan said, tapping Diana on the arm again, as if motioning her to move off like a carthorse. ‘I’d have thought you’d have had enough of schools for a while!’
Of course. Diana Sayers! Mrs Sayers, the Langford primary school secretary. Adam’s godmother. Philippa’s best friend, she hadn’t seen her for years, how could she have forgotten her?
‘I thought it was probably about time I actually learned something now I’m retired,’ Diana said gruffly. ‘Sick of children. Don’t care if I never see another one.’
‘Aaah. That’s nice,’ murmured Jan, not really listening, and Tess bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
‘Cross here,’ Diana commanded, raising her left arm high in the air, and the little crocodile obediently crossed the road.
‘Did you go to the meeting last week at the pub?’ Jan said. ‘Andrea’s furious with me for not going, but I had to wait in and pick Jeremy up from the station. Some stupid golfing day, bloody idiot. She said it went well,’ she added, inconsequentially. ‘Ron’s wonderful at organizing that sort of thing.’
‘Oh, I went,’ Diana said, nodding. ‘Only briefly though. Andrea’s started the petition, she’s going to take it round the town. I thought we should probably give copies to people like your Jeremy, Jan, get him to pin it up in the office? I mean, Thornham’s only a couple of miles away from here, they’ll be affected if this bloody superstore goes ahead too.’
‘I must say,’ said Jan, ignoring her. ‘That Family—I’ve broken with them. Simply broken with the Mortmains, and Carolyn Tey can waggle over to me with her big sad cow eyes all she wants and say, “Oh, Jan, I know Mrs Mortmain’s ever so grateful to you for your support,” when that damned woman wants the PCC to approve her horrible fence so she doesn’t have to look at any ordinary people. But they’re going to have to learn a lesson! We won’t take it any more! Ooh—’ she said, breaking off. ‘I do like your shoes, Diana. Where did you get them? I’ve been looking for something like