It took several tries to get the ute started but once she got going, it was easy enough to drive. She clutched the steering wheel as she bounced along the track to the road. It’d had a lot of traffic over the weekend. She worried she wouldn’t remember the way to town. It always looked different when you were the driver and there were quite a few twists and turns before she reached the main highway. Even when she did she only relaxed a little; before her stretched not only the road, but also the thought of four days’ teaching.

At the school, Claire welcomed her and Ken introduced her to a few staff who were chatting over early-morning cups of coffee in the staffroom. They seemed friendly enough but she wanted to get to the art room to make sure everything was set out and ready. Ken walked her there, talking all the way. It was hard to concentrate on his words and she found herself caught out a couple of times as she realised he had paused, waiting for an answer.

Once he’d left, Keely closed the door, leaned back on it and shut her eyes. She took some long slow breaths and waited till the sick feeling eased; then she opened her eyes and surveyed the room.

“You can do this, Keely.” Her voice sounded loud in her ears.

She forced herself away from the door and began to set out the gear she needed for the first lesson. She’d planned a simple project – to design a pattern or scene for a wine bottle and paint it using wet on wet technique.

It seemed no time at all before the first group of students gathered outside the door and Ken was back to introduce her. Once he’d gone, Keely launched into her explanation of the task ahead. To her surprise, the students listened attentively and were keen to begin. They all liked the idea of painting the used wine bottles. Her first class ran very well and she noted some real talent but couldn’t bring herself to relax. She knew at any moment the mood could change. It only took one or two to misbehave then the rest would follow, no matter how nice they first appeared.

Each new class of the day heightened her anxiety and, as she sat listening to the babble of teenage voices outside, she forced herself to put on a smile and open the door to them.

* * *

“I’m not telling you what to do, Euan.” Maggie’s voice was gentle. “I’m simply saying you have to make up your mind about what you want.”