‘I’ve probably seen worse,’ Lana said fervently. ‘That sort of thing doesn’t put me off. But we’re keeping you from your class,’ she finished as she noticed the sea of faces watching them curiously.
‘Yes, I’d better get back,’ Wendy Booth agreed. ‘It’s been lovely meeting you, and I do hope you’ll join us.’
Lana smiled and turned before the teacher could discern her tears. She felt Wendy could be a friend. It had been too long since she’d had someone to confide in. To lay the past to rest. To think of the future.
George Shepherd took her round the rest of the school and even introduced her to Meg, the cook, who bustled about, but had a smile for her when Lana thanked her for the sandwich and custard tarts.
‘I didn’t mention the salary,’ George Shepherd said when they returned to the office. ‘Four pounds a week plus accommodation in a two-bedroomed cottage in the grounds with Janice Parkes, the history teacher Miss Booth mentioned.’
It was more than she’d expected. It seemed that a headmistress was generously rewarded for the added responsibility. She hesitated, not knowing how to answer.
‘And you’d be running the show,’ George Shepherd cut into her thoughts slyly, ‘making sure you were one happy family, kids included. I think you’d make a marvellous success of it.’
‘As I explained, I’ve never held the position of headmistress.’
‘That’s not a problem,’ Mr Shepherd said immediately. ‘But we did want someone with more than a couple of years’ teaching experience, and you’ve had three times that.’
Lana was silent. Mr Shepherd was waiting for her to answer. She began to feel uncomfortable.
‘Where do the children come from?’ she asked, more for something to say.
‘Mostly Bingham, but some from the neighbouring village, which is even smaller. One twelve-year-old, Priscilla Morgan, lives at Bingham Hall – that’s the Dr Barnardo’s orphanage, half a mile away – but she attends school here. I’d like to talk to you about her in particular. She desperately needs help. Mr Benton was not the kind of person she could talk to. She’s an orphan but won’t believe it. It’s had a devastating effect on her studies as she’s been removed from the girls’ grammar school in Liverpool where she’d been doing very well up until then.’ He took his glasses off and polished them with a soft cloth before pushing them back on his nose. ‘Didn’t you say you taught eleven- to thirteen-year-olds?’
Lana nodded.
Mr Shepherd was watching her closely. She was sure he was talking about the girl who had given her such a look of hopelessness.
‘She’s got wonderful potential,’ Mr Shepherd continued. ‘She’s a difficult child – not naughty, really – it’s just that she doesn’t trust anyone any more. I think you’d be able to help her. She deserves it.’ He leaned back in his chair, his eyes unwavering. ‘So what do you say, Miss Ashwin?’
The return journey on the train was even more fraught than the one going to Liverpool. It stopped at every possible unnamed town, and sometimes in between for no apparent reason. No sirens had gone off and the guard hadn’t explained the reason for the hold-ups. He probably didn’t know himself. Lana’s frustration was fuelled by her thoughts, which were spinning out of control. The children needed a headmistress in place of this Mr Benton. Deep down, she knew she was capable of doing the job, though it would be a challenge – a big step up. She wished she could have met Janice Parkes who she’d be sharing the cottage with. That was important. She wouldn’t be able to stand anyone who was morose, or worse, didn’t stop talking. She couldn’t help a wry smile. Mrs Parkes was more than likely a perfectly nice person and she would be worrying herself sick as to who was about to step into what she’d probably considered to be her cottage.
She wondered what Dickie would say if he could see her now. How she missed him. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she tried to block out the recurring nightmare of the torpedoes that struck his ship, leaving him to drown or be blown up – she’d never know for sure. Even so, it felt too much to bear. Such a wasted life. And all the others, of course. Later she’d learned there were many survivors, and that had made her even more upset. Why couldn’t Dickie have survived?
For the hundredth time she wondered what his last terrified thoughts had been. She gulped. She mustn’t break down in front of the other people in the carriage.
‘Promise me you won’t join up.’ She could hear his voice at their last parting. ‘I couldn’t bear to think of you in any kind of danger. No matter what happens to me, I want to think of you teaching children. That’s where your heart is. And I love you for it.’ He’d looked at her and grinned. ‘Besides, with that red hair of yours and a quick temper to match, I can’t see you toeing the line or taking orders.’ When she’d opened her mouth to protest he’d kissed her lips to hush her. ‘I probably know you better than you know yourself. The kids need someone original like you to give them hope in this crazy world. They are the future now.’
But my heart’s no longer in it, she wanted to scream at him as she sat on the carriage seat squashed between two women in the ATS. Three airmen were standing close by and smoking. Her eyes began to water. That rotten stinking Hitler and his friends caused you to die and I’m going to do everything in my power to help pay them back, so help me God.
The people in the carriage were starting to throw her curious looks. She turned her face away and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.
When she finally arrived home her mother bustled into the kitchen to heat up her supper. Lana followed her, watching as her mother put the plate over a saucepan of boiling water and a lid over the top.
‘There … that won’t take more than a few minutes to heat through,’ she said, looking round and smiling. ‘Go and keep Dad company. We’ve had ours … and we’re dying to hear about it.’
‘Your mother’s been on tenterhooks all day, wondering how you were getting on,’ her father said.
‘Well, he’s offered me the position,’ Lana said, as her mother put a plate of macaroni cheese in front of her. ‘More money – four pounds a week and all found. Sharing a cottage with another teacher. I didn’t meet her but I met one – the mathematics teacher. She was awfully nice.’
‘What about the man who interviewed you?’ her father said.
‘Mr Shepherd? He was nice too. He doesn’t work there – he’s from the council – but he interviews prospective staff.’
‘Have you decided?’ her mother said, smiling encouragingly.
‘Not really.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘I said I’d think about it and let him know either way by telephone by the end of the week.’
Her father nodded. ‘Very wise, dear. It’s a big decision. But if you say you’ll take it, your mother and I are right behind you. The change of scenery would do you the world of good and you’d do a marvellous job. Those children would flourish. But only you know what would suit you best.’
‘Thank you both.’ Lana gave them a relieved smile. They were the dearest parents in the world and she wanted them to be proud of her. She shrugged. She didn’t know what she wanted, but she couldn’t bear to be in limbo for much longer.
It was the afternoon. She’d been watching her father attend to several customers who were plainly upset with their meagre