Amelia Grey's Fireside Dream by Abby Clements Read Free Book Online

Laughter broke out across the classroom.
    ‘Right.’ I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Now, if no one else has a burning urge to be sent to the Head, let’s get on with the lesson. In groups of four, consider the question on the board:
1984 – what aspects of Orwell’s novel can we see in our modern world?
’
    With the scrape of chairs, the students arranged themselves into groups with a few muttered complaints about who they’d been put with. ‘I’ll take that, thank you,’ I said to Paul, who was googling the question on his iPhone. I took the phone and put it in my pocket.
    ‘Nah …’
    I gave him my steeliest look and he fell quiet.
    The class fed back their answers and I was heartened to see that some of the students did at least seem familiar with the text I’d set them. The bell went.
    ‘See you all tomorrow,’ I called out. ‘Paul, wait behind, please. Let’s go to Mr Garrett’s office now and I’ll let himdecide, after he’s heard the full story, whether he thinks you deserve your phone back.’
    We walked together down the corridor. ‘You got a husband, Miss?’ Paul asked chirpily.
    ‘Why do you ask?’
    ‘Because you’re pretty.’
    ‘Don’t think you can charm me, Paul Reilly,’ I said, feeling a faint glow nonetheless.
    ‘I saw your ring, anyway,’ he said with a wink.
    I knocked on Lewis’s office door.
    ‘Come in.’
    ‘Hi, Mr Garrett. I’ve got Paul Reilly here, who wants to let you know what he did in my class today.’
    ‘Paul,’ Lewis said, taking off his reading glasses and putting them to one side on his desk. ‘Welcome back.
Again
.’
    ‘I’ve got his phone in the confiscation locker. Just let me know what you decide.’
    ‘Sure,’ Lewis said. ‘Oh, and Ms Grey, before you go – are you free for a meeting tomorrow lunchtime? There’s something I was hoping to talk to you about.’
    ‘Of course,’ I said. Perhaps this was it. The news I’d been waiting for about the Head of English job. ‘I’ll see you here at one.’
    Lewis gave me a nod, revealing his scanty combover, and I closed the door.
    *
    I went to my car shortly afterwards, and loaded my bag and books onto the back seat. My mobile buzzed in my pocket.
    I scrambled to answer it. The cottage. I checked the number and clocked the dialling code – Kent. It had to be Darren. I sat in the driver’s seat trying to steady my nerves. Our whole future could rest on this yes or no.
    ‘Amelia!’ Mum – of course.
    ‘Hi,’ I said. Her caller ID hadn’t shown up this time. ‘Where are you calling from?’
    ‘A friend’s house,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking, about your birthday. Is there anything in particular you’d like? Are you still into sewing? I could look into one of those craft courses …’
    I heard a beep – another call was coming through. ‘Lovely, yes. Sorry, Mum, I’ll call you back.’ I switched calls before she could reply. Forget manners, this was too important.
    ‘Have you heard anything?’
    Jack, I realized, feeling slightly disappointed. ‘Not yet. I’ll let you know when I do.
STOP THAT!
’ I shouted through the open car window. The football that had been thrown against my car bonnet rolled gently to the ground, leaving a slight indentation in the metal.
    ‘Sorry, Miss,’ said one of my Year 7 girls, scurrying over to collect it.
    ‘No ball games in the car park, Cassie. You know that.’
    ‘I just called a second ago and the line was engaged, so I thought—’
    ‘I was on the phone to Mum.’
    ‘Oh. OK, I’ll wait to hear then.’
    ‘See you at home.’
    I started the engine and drove out of the car park and on to the main road, the familiar route home, listening to a Strokes CD Jack had left in the stereo. Caught up in a traffic jam on Hackney High Street, I pressed the button to wind down the window and let in some fresh air. Instead the car filled with fumes and the smell of a nearby kebab shop. Coughing, I pressed to wind it back up