I didn’t need to open the card to know that they were from Jonathan and would have been sent by way of apology after our argument. This was just the sort of gesture he went in for and as lovely as the flowers were, I felt really rather rotten that he had sent them. Surely, I should have been the one sending something to him? And more to the point, how had he known to have them delivered to the school? I was certain I hadn’t let slip about my plans to volunteer because I knew he would have objected and said I should be resting as I was on holiday.

‘So,’ said Beamish, wandering in and joining in with the conversation. ‘Who are they from?’

‘One of Hattie’s many admirers,’ said Dolly with emphasis.

‘You didn’t think you were the only one, did you, Beamish?’ laughed Rose.

Poor Beamish turned bright red and disappeared again.

‘What did you mean by that, Rose?’ I asked, still puzzling over the choice of delivery destination.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ she replied, sniffing the pint of milk which had been left out of the fridge all afternoon before deciding to risk it.

Whatever she was getting at, it wasn’t obvious to me.

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Before we left school that evening, I made use of the ICT suite to check my emails. Jonathan had already mailed me and attached lots of photos of the apartment he favoured most and where we would hopefully be living in just a few short weeks. His photos were far better than the agent’s and I was in complete agreement that he had picked the perfect place for us. I took my time, admiring the high spec, stylish details and cloudless blue sky beyond the windows. It didn’t look all that dissimilar to the flat we shared now, but this one would be ours, as opposed to Jonathan’s, from the off, and I couldn’t help thinking it was us to a T.

I replied, thanking him for the flowers, but not mentioning the delivery address, and added my thoughts about our new abode, still wishing that I could have been there for the first viewing. Seeing where I was going to live on screen and imagining the life I would lead there, had put me back on track; my decision to go had been the right one. Wynbridge and Dolly’s cosy cottage were wonderful for a quaint rural holiday, but the sleek images in front of me represented the kind of couple Jonathan and I were and I knew we were going to be very happy there.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Dolly, placing a hand on my shoulder. ‘You’ll soon make it look like home.’

I hadn’t heard her come in so I jumped, biting back the expletive on my lips when I remembered I was still at school.