An Orphan’s Wish. Molly Green
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nagged about it.’
‘Sounds like you’ve shared the cottage with someone else and it didn’t work out.’
‘It was a disaster,’ came the swift reply. ‘And I don’t want to repeat it.’
‘Was it another teacher?’
‘Yes. And the teacher happened to be my husband.’
Lana put her knife and fork neatly together and waited for her to continue.
‘Not unusual in normal circumstances,’ Janice said, her lip curling, ‘but unbeknown to me, he was carrying on with someone else – one of the school cleaners. Can you believe it?’ She threw Lana a fierce look.
Lana’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, my goodness. When was this?’
‘Two Christmases ago. I threw him out. He’d have to have joined up anyway, so it was no real hardship. And I’ve been quite happy on my own, thank you very much. My divorce should be through any day now.’
‘I admit that what happened to you was pretty awful,’ Lana said, rising from the table and taking the plates over to the sink to wash. ‘But you’ll meet someone else one day. Until then, you mustn’t allow yourself to be bitter or it will ruin your life.’
Isn’t that what Mum and Dad and my friends keep telling me? And do I take any notice?
‘How dare you talk to me about bitter!’ Janice sounded so raw and angry that Lana immediately returned to her seat at the table. ‘How could I expect you, or anyone, to understand?’ Janice continued through gritted teeth. ‘He was living a lie.’ Her voice rose. ‘It’d been going on nearly a year – right under my nose.’ She paused, and Lana saw the dark eyes flash with fury. ‘So just when I’m enjoying a bit of peace and trying to come to terms with a divorce, you turn up, and I’m told to welcome someone I don’t know – never set eyes on. I’m used to living on my own … having things the way I want.’ She shot up from her chair. ‘And as far as meeting anyone else, you can forget it. I’ve had it up to here with men.’ She drew a finger across her throat. ‘And I don’t intend making that mistake again.’
Lana washed the dishes on her own, and then excused herself, saying she was tired from the journey. It was a relief to read her book, and then settle in for an early night. It was quite true. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. Bingham school was certainly giving her plenty to think about.
Lana awoke early. Where was she? Peeling flowered wallpaper surrounded her. And the cheap furniture with bubbling grain wasn’t hers. Light was filtering through from somewhere behind her head and what seemed only a few feet away she could hear loud snoring. And then she remembered. She was in one of the bedrooms in the cottage in the grounds of Bingham school. And the snorer across the landing was Janice.
She jerked upright and swung her long legs out of bed. Her watch showed half past five. She could easily have another hour but she was going to be first into the bathroom to beat Janice.
By the time Lana had washed and dressed and discovered some porridge oats, she heard footsteps above, pacing up and down. Perhaps Janice was desperately trying to work out how she was going to accept sharing. Lana struck a match and lit the gas ring, then stirred the thickening mixture with a battered wooden spoon. When it was ready she popped the lid on and called up the stairs.
‘Janice. I’ve made some porridge.’
Silence. After a few seconds a voice answered, ‘Don’t eat the stuff.’ Janice’s dark head appeared. ‘I don’t have anything to eat until dinnertime.’
‘Well, at least have a cup of tea.’ Lana bit back her irritation.
‘All right. Be down in a minute.’
Lana had finished her porridge by the time Janice appeared. She did at least sit down and drink her tea.
‘I wanted to ask something,’ Lana said.
‘Long as it’s not personal,’ Janice answered immediately.
‘No, it’s not. It’s about Priscilla. Do you teach her?’
‘Yes. History and geography, but it’s hard going,’ Janice said, gulping the rest of her tea.
‘In what way?’
‘She can’t concentrate.’
‘I’m not surprised when she’s lost her parents so suddenly.’
‘I think the best way is to ignore the fact,’ Janice said, without a scrap of emotion. Lana’s eyes went wide. ‘Oh, I know that sounds harsh,’ Janice went on hurriedly, ‘but I think the more she’s reminded by people feeling sorry for her, the longer she’ll take to get over it.’
Lana didn’t agree at all, but she could see it wasn’t worth arguing with the woman.
‘I understand she’s now living at Dr Barnardo’s.’
‘That’s right,’ Janice said. ‘She used to be very good at most subjects at her grammar school, but now she doesn’t bother to finish her homework – sometimes doesn’t do any at all – and won’t take part when we ask questions. But give it time.’ Janice looked directly at Lana and gave one of her mocking smiles. ‘As you told me yesterday – time is the great healer.’
Lana flushed. ‘I didn’t actually use those words.’
‘Maybe not, but the sentiment’s the same.’
Lana bit her lip. No, she couldn’t live with Janice, hearing her chipping away with bitterness day after day. Couldn’t she see she wasn’t the only one who’d suffered in this bloody awful war? The woman hadn’t asked her one thing about herself or why she’d moved from York to Liverpool. Janice obviously wasn’t at all interested in anyone except Janice. Janice, the hard-done-by; Janice who couldn’t see how well off she was, living in a sweet little cottage – well, it would be if she’d clean and tidy it up now and again – and having one of the most rewarding jobs in the world. Well, she couldn’t stop here for the sake of one child and be at the mercy of Janice Parkes.
‘Anyway, you’ll have your house back to yourself in a couple of hours,’ Lana said.
‘What do you mean?’
She had Janice’s full attention now.
‘I’m not going to stay here.’
‘What?’
Lana met Janice’s dark eyes, wide now with curiosity. ‘I’m not going to take up the position of headmistress.’
‘Why ever not? You’ve presumably got the experience.’
‘But not the desire,’ Lana said. ‘I haven’t felt comfortable right from the start. Even on my interview, I wasn’t made welcome by the woman in the office.’
‘Mrs Danvers?’ Janice raised an eyebrow.
‘Is that her real name?’
‘No, it’s Dayton. But we call her Danvers. Mr Benton was a pain in the neck at the best of times, but he couldn’t do anything wrong in Mrs Dayton’s eyes – she doted on him. Just like Mrs Danvers with that spoilt brat, Rebecca.’ Janice curled her lip. ‘Did you see that film?’
Lana nodded.
‘I can’t believe you took any notice of a secretary,’ Janice droned on. ‘She couldn’t have changed your mind.’
Best not to say anything, Lana decided.
‘You don’t mean me?’ Janice practically thumped herself in the chest. ‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ She shot to