Chapters (51)
- Cover
- Praise for A Season for Second Chances
- Also by Jenny Bayliss
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Discussion Guide
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
With a wave of her hand, she directed their gaze to a plaque above the entrance to one of the laboratories, which read Donated by Mr. Montague-Smythe, with thanks. Charles flushed.
“And of course, we mustn’t forget the generous and continued donations from the Bailey family,” she went on. Now it was Guy’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Mr. Bailey, I’ve been doing my homework, and I see that you are now the proud father of your own children; I hope that in the not-too-distant future we’ll be able to welcome the next generation of Baileys through the doors of Braddon-Hartmead.”
“Not if Camille has anything to do with it,” Ameerah whispered.
Guy looked pained.
“She’s like a marketing machine,” Pippa added. “Has anyone checked to see if she’s got a USB charging port at the back of her neck?”
They moved on past the English block and stopped at the library.
“This is our most popular place for donations. Benefactors old and new have been drawn to the idea of inspiring a passion for literature in future Braddon-Hartmead pupils. Mr. McIntosh and Ms. Hadid”—she looked first at Jeremy, then Ameerah—“your families have made generous donations to our beloved library over the years.”
“She has really done her homework,” Charles murmured.
“She won’t mention my family,” said Pippa through almost entirely closed lips as Ms. Strathmoore continued to gush about benefactors and pupils who had gone on to become famous. “My mother sued after my sister got addicted to cocaine during her GCSEs.”
“I didn’t know that.” Nory struggled to keep her voice down.
“You are shitting me!” Ameerah hissed. “How did we not know this? I told you all about Ahmed, and you never said a thing.”
Pippa shrugged, as if not telling the group had been a mere oversight. But Elinor knew it wasn’t only Guy’s family for whom “sharing” was considered the forte of hippies and weaklings. Nory suspected that one of the reasons Pippa had built up a business out of making people’s houses and wedding venues gorgeously welcoming was because she was trying to create some of the comfort her own homelife had lacked. Pippa’s mother was a woman so uptight she was almost Dickensian in her child-rearing and yet conversely an absolute socialite, famous for her soirees.
“You’re such a closed book.” Ameerah tutted.
“I’m sorry,” hissed Pippa. “I didn’t know my sister’s drug abuse was so important to you.”
“So not what I meant, Pip.”
“Can we keep it down a bit?” Nory hushed them. “I don’t want to get detention.”