purchase some more without delay.â The blue eye twinkled. âAnd perhaps Madame Madeleine could be prevailed upon to provide me with the appropriate catalogue so that I may be better informed as to what is considered suitable décor in an office these days.â
CHAPTER 7
Lauren peeped through the classroom door to make sure she had found the right place. The teacher came up behind her.
âAre you the new girl?â he asked.
She nodded.
He checked his list. âLauren?â
âThatâs me.â
âHave you been provided with books?â
She indicated the bag on her shoulder. âHundreds.â
âWell, come along then and weâll get you settled,â he said briskly.
She pointed to the bench beside the door. âCould I just sit out here for a couple more minutes, please? Iâm a bit nauseous, still jetlagged I guess.â
âYou donât need to go and lie down?â
âNo, Iâll be okay in a minute.â
âWell, donât come in until youâre sure.â
She hadnât totally lied. Jetlag had been a minor problem for the first few days while she and her parents were settling into the house they had rented until Christmas. She had thought she was over it, until her mother had had to shake her awake just before eight oâclock that morning. She got up dizzy and disoriented, but luckily no pale-faced wreck with bags under its eyes stared back at her from the bathroom mirror and she had arrived for her first day at the school looking none the worse for a bad night.
Nevertheless, just for a moment her eyes misted and made her head swim as Caz came slowly down the corridor, his book bag slung over his shoulder and a large thermos flask under his arm. He was reading a paper.
Lauren swallowed and stood up. âHello, Iâm Lauren. I just started here this morning.â
He glanced down at her. âOkay.â
âAnd youâre Caz.â
âI know.â
âDo you mind if I sit with you for class?â
âPlease yourself.â
The teacher was writing rapidly on the board. âLate again, Mister Wylde,â he remarked acidly, without turning round.
Caz sat down in one of the two empty seats at the front of the class. Jen nudged Bryony. Shriek nudged Gin. Lauren flushed triumphantly, aware of Melanieâs eyes boring holes in her back as she sat beside Caz.
The teacher stood over them. âI see you have recovered, Lauren.â
She smiled up at him. âYes, sir.â
He picked up the paper Caz had been reading and glanced at it briefly. âThis has nothing to do with the subject of mathematics, Mister Wylde. I have come to appreciate that your willingness to apply your apparently superior mind to the pursuit of mathematics is limited but, in this case, if you will humour me, I will humour you. Is that understood?â
Caz did not reply. He leaned back in the chair and held out his hand. Irritated, the teacher slapped the paper down on the desk. A general titter went around the room. He spun around and glared at the class. The phone on the front table rang once. He swallowed an upsurge of impotent rage.
âPage thirty-two!â he barked. âI will be back in exactly five minutes. Upon my return I will expect correct answers from all of you, beginning with Mister Wylde.â
The titter broke out into laughter and a rush of conversation. Gin saw Melanie take out her phone. Lauren opened the book and scanned the required page, writing rapidly. She handed her notes to Caz.
âWhatâs this?â he asked.
âItâs for when he comes back.â
âHe doesnât expect me to have the answers.â
âSo surprise him for once.â
Caz shrugged. âHeâs been around too long to appreciate surprises.â
âYou really donât like math, do you?â
âI donât need it.â
He continued reading. She glanced at the impressively headed
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley