The Secret Letter

‘You must be tired after organising that wonderful performance.’ She smiled at Cara who bounced up and down on her yellow feet.

‘Did you like my bit, Grandma? When I said about looking after the trees?’

‘I loved it.’

Cara saw one of her friends across the playground and darted off to speak to him while Sophie sat down next to me.

‘She has a lot of energy.’

‘She’s wonderful.’

‘So like her mother was at that age – it fills me with joy even as it breaks my heart.’

Remembering what Cara had said about her mummy being dead, I wasn’t sure what to say so I just gave what I hoped was a sympathetic smile.

Sophie looked distant for a second, then she focused on me again.

‘We are all very excited to have you here,’ she said. ‘Do you think they will close this school?’

I was disarmed by her way of saying exactly what she thought.

‘Erm,’ I began. ‘I’m not sure …’

She waved her hand. ‘But things are going wrong,’ she said. ‘Look how few children are here now. Look how they all go in their cars to the fancy school in Blyton.’

‘Well, yes, but …’

Sophie took my hand. ‘My husband went to this school, and so did my daughter,’ she said to me. ‘And now my granddaughter. And ask anyone here, they will tell you the same.’ She gestured with her arm, taking in the whole school, and maybe even the village. ‘Imagine if we didn’t have this,’ she said.

I shifted on my deckchair and gave the rows of toffee apples my attention, instead of Sophie. ‘I’m not sure there’s anything I can do,’ I muttered.

‘Psssht,’ she said. ‘Of course there is.’

‘Is she roping you in to sell toffee apples?’

It was Danny. Despite myself, I sat up a bit straighter wondering if I had mascara smudged beneath my eyes.

‘Sophie,’ he said.

‘Hello, Danny.’

Was I imagining it, or did Sophie’s face suddenly look harder? More pinched?

‘We’ve mostly been chatting,’ I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere that I sensed between Sophie and Danny. ‘Not done much selling.’

‘I’ve been telling Miss Armstrong that she can save Elm Heath Primary.’

Danny smiled at me, a cheeky smile that gave me that unsettled feeling again. ‘I imagine you’re good at just about everything, MISS Armstrong,’ he said. ‘But I think this one might even be beyond you.’

Sophie glared at Danny – there was definitely tension there – and he ignored her, looking at me instead.

‘But you never know,’ he added.

‘It’s not closing,’ I said, knowing my words were empty because the lack of pupils spoke for itself. Danny just shrugged and Sophie looked away across the playground to where Cara was running round with her friends who were both dressed like pumpkins.

‘Cara’s over there,’ she said bluntly.

Danny looked like he was going to say something then he shut his mouth instead. After a second he opened it again.

‘Nice seeing you again, Ms Armstrong.’

I was faintly disappointed that he’d used my correct title.

‘Thank you for the good luck card,’ I called as he wandered over the playground towards Cara. He raised his hand to show he’d heard.

Sophie was looking at me, her brow furrowed.

‘He’s a tricky one,’ she said. Was she warning me off? There was really no need. I was hardly in the market for romance.

I didn’t get a chance to respond because one of the pumpkins was suddenly at my elbow. It was a little boy from Cara’s class whose name was Hayden. Or Jayden. Or perhaps Cayden.

‘Miss?’ he said.

‘Yes?’

‘Cara said she thought you were a bit sad, Miss.’

I wasn’t sure what to say. I looked at his little orange face, all earnest and worried, and smiled.

‘I’m not sad.’

He shrugged. ‘Thought this might cheer you up.’

He reached out his hand. In his palm was a corn dolly. I’d never got round to googling them, but instead I’d watched the kids making them. They’d twisted and wrapped corn into little shapes to make their creations. This one was a simple circle with a red ribbon bow.

‘Thank you,’ I said, genuinely touched at the gesture. ‘You’re so kind.’

‘That’s lovely, Jayden,’ Sophie said, obviously realising I was struggling to get his name.

‘It really is. I’ll put this in my office at school and it will make me smile every time I look at it.’

‘Miss, I made one for you too.’

On my other side was a little girl dressed as Elsa from Frozen, which had no direct link to harvest as far as I could tell. She pushed a corn dolly into my hand.

‘Thank you, Elsa,’ I said and she beamed at me.

‘I did one as well.’ Cara was there, in her yellow get-up, brandishing her corn dolly, which was plaited like her hair.