She paused. Her eyes ranged up, to the window.
‘But what I hope this course will give you is a full understanding of the grandeur and the glory that was Rome, why it is so important to us still today, and how it shaped the modern world as we know it. Everything from the month of August to the word “comprehensive” to the way we vote, with a bit of Star Wars, some wine, the best speeches you’ll ever hear and for some of you, a nice trip to Italy thrown in along the way.’
Tess unclenched her hands, which she realized had been scrunched up at her sides, as the class gave a small, appreciative laugh, their upturned faces watching her. Someone opened an exercise book; someone else uncapped a pen, someone cleared their throat. They were relaxing into this. Now it could begin; she looked around, wondering why she still felt uneasy.
Then the door opened. Tess looked up at the creaking sound, to see a silhouette ahead of her. A pair of eyes bore into her with dark intensity. Leonora Mortmain, dressed in black, her hand clutching a stick, began her descent into the bowels of the classroom, looking at no one. She nodded, unblinking, briefly acknowledging Tess’s eyes on her, and Tess nearly reared back in shock—so wizened was the face in front of her, so emotionless and yet intense her gaze. Her progress was slow but steady, and gradually everyone turned around to see her, Leonora Mortmain, the most hated woman in the town, walking down the steps of her old family home, and when the class saw who it was, a couple turned back but the rest, horrified, began to mutter amongst themselves. Diana Sayers looked murderous; Jan Allingham shook her head. Slowly, Leonora Mortmain lowered herself into a chair in the front row, and nodded slowly, as if granting permission for the lesson to go ahead.
‘She—’ ‘Why?’ ‘I can’t believe—’ Like reeds by a stream, the rushing whispering began, until Tess rapped on the lectern, and some of them jumped; not Leonora Mortmain, however. Tess clapped her hands.
‘Silence, please.’
She had forgotten, too, the calm that came with being in charge of a class: she had no command over her own life but here, here was different. They were instantly quiet. ‘Thanks. Now, let’s begin. I want you to listen to this. I’m going to read you a speech, one of a series written by the greatest orator who ever lived. If you have an enemy—’ she cast a quelling glance around the room—‘tackle him like this. If you want to make your case against them, say it like this.’
Holding up Cicero’s Philippics, she began to read, her hands shaking only slightly.
Dear Tess,
Hi. I hope you got my message. I still have your old writing bureau in my attic, the one you stored there after the burglary. I’m selling the flat as we’re buying a house and so I should like to give it back to you. Ticky and I are going to a wedding in Dorset next month. May I drop it off then?
I hope your new life in Langford is going well. Will
Dear Tess,
Hi! How’s it going in the countryside? Danced round any maypoles yet? How’s the job? That’s great news about the house, but who the hell is this random girl you’re moving in with? Sorry about all the questions, I need an update!
It’s all cool here. Cathy has settled in OK, I think it’ll be fine living with her. Anil asked me out. We’re going to the cinema next week. No big deal, he’s nice so we’ll see. Crazy John had a party upstairs with his crazy crackhead friends on Saturday, someone called the police and he got taken away! Can you believe it. Mr Azeem’s got burned down last week, they think some lads did it.
The reason I was emailing as well is because Will aka Wuell phoned yesterday. He didn’t know you’d left London. He was a bit surprised. Anyway, he said he’d tried your mobile and you hadn’t answered, a couple of times. He wanted your address. And he says he wants to be friends. That was what he wanted me to tell you! He said he’s going down to Dorset in a couple of weeks, he’ll be in touch and maybe try and pop by with Ticky (that’s her name, right?). I said nothing. Tess, I hope that’s OK. Didn’t know what else to do.
Also you still owe me ?7 for the bills, remember. Sorry to chase
Speak soon Tess.
Meena x x x
Hi Meena,
Long time no e and I’m really sorry I haven’t been in touch properly. It’s been really hectic here—started job two weeks ago, been trying to sort everything out and prepare all the courses and stuff. Apologies.
The job is going well. It’s odd, going from teaching some bored 14 yr olds to all these super-keen people who’ve PAID to have you TEACH THEM. It’s posher than I’d realized, standards are v high—I don’t know if I’d have come here if I’d known, I’d have been too scared. But teaching people who want to learn…great.
Francesca is really cool, you’d like her. Except she’s even messier than me, you wouldn’t like that. She got made redundant so she decided to escape from London for a few months. She’d been here on a school trip and always liked it. I thought she might be a bit too Londony, but she’s hilarious. She’s got something going on with Adam, you remember my old friend Adam? They are ‘seeing each other’, but they’re both being hilariously casual about it. MUCH LIKE YOU AND ANIL. That is SO COOL Meen—so the date was this week? Tell me how it went?
It’s so lovely here, Meen, when are you coming to stay? Most days I come back from college and Francesca’s here and we watch TV and slump on the sofa or I cook and potter around the house, or else go to the pub which is about five minutes away, with Adam and Suggs and people from college. I can go for long walks whenever I want, and it’s getting lighter in the evenings and it’s so beautiful. I’m happy here.
Last, not long till I go to Italy in June!!!! A whole week in Rome—only drawback is it’s me and loads of crazy middle-aged people who ask questions the WHOLE time, but still, it’ll be lovely.
Lots of love
Tess x x x x
PS Sorry, just reread your email. Will pay money back asap.
PPS And Ticky…………Ticky!!! Fucking TICKY WHO CALLS THEMSELVES THAT.
‘Tess?’ The white wooden front door, which swung alarmingly at the slightest touch, was flung suddenly open as Tess, who had been typing furiously at the computer, swivelled round.
‘Oh, hi,’ she said, as Francesca barrelled into the sitting room of Easter Cottage, a small but light room which doubled as a hall, storage area, sitting room and dining room. ‘Where have you been? Wow.’ She deleted the last line of her email to Meena, then pressed ‘Send’. ‘Look at all those bags!’ she said, standing up, her heart beating. ‘Wow,’ she said again.
‘I know,’ Francesca panted. ‘Done some shopping.’ She dumped the bags carelessly on the wooden floor and slumped onto the sofa. ‘I’m completely and totally exhausted, Tess.’ She kicked off her gold flip-flops; constraints of weather and water never really affected Francesca’s footwear choice, Tess had noticed. The flip-flops skidded next to Tess’s school shoes; sturdy brown slip-on brogues, covered in mud.
‘Where did you go?’ said Tess, crouching over the bags. ‘There’s loads! How did you find the shops? It’s a small town!’
‘I wanted some retail therapy,’ said Francesca. ‘Some stuff for the house.’ She held up a small blue cube. ‘Look! Got this at that really cool shop up by the lanes, the one that sells Alessi stuff. It’s a lamp.’
‘Right,’ said Tess. ‘Wow, it’s…’
Francesca