Natalie wanted to ask how she was supposed to not worry but instead she scribbled the details into her diary. The call finished, the phone lay beside her diary on the desk as a million thoughts whirled in her head. Her knees were jelly and she lowered herself to her chair. She stared at the phone. She should have asked more questions. What did further investigation mean? Perhaps a biopsy? The woman’s parting words had been try not to worry and she’d disconnected before Natalie could gather her thoughts. What kind of help was that? Natalie looked down at her shirt, crumpled now from the day. Beneath it she felt the constriction of her bra encasing her breasts. They’d found an anomaly. She pressed her fingers to her lips. She had cancer.

“Natalie?”

She looked up in surprise, not sure how long she’d been sitting there.

Paul stepped into her classroom. “I’d like to have a chat.”

She stood up and began tidying her desk. She worked part-time. Thank God her week was over. Her colleague, Claire, taught the class Thursdays and Fridays.

“Natalie?”

She stopped, looked at Paul. He must have said something.

“Pardon?”

“I’m concerned about letting the children talk about the fires in such detail.”

She stared at him, trying to focus on what he was saying.

“It’s not part of the curriculum we mapped out at the start of the year,” he said.

“It’s reinforcing the skills they learned for NAPLAN testing.” Her voice was a croak.

He frowned. “Bushfires were not one of the examples we discussed for year three.”

It was as if he was chastising her. Personal worry mixed with professional. “The similarities and differences between frogs and toads didn’t hold their interest.”

“You’re uncovering issues better dealt with by a counsellor.”

He was only voicing the very concern she’d had when the children had first suggested the topic. She lifted her basket, placed it on her desk and began scooping papers and pens into it. “I talked to Pat about it and we discussed possible scenarios and strategies. She thought it would be beneficial. Life doesn’t always fit easily into compartments. Anyway, it was one of the children who initially raised the topic of floods and fires and I let the parents know via our weekly class newsletter.” She was rambling, the words burbling from her mouth. She took a breath and stopped, her gaze meeting his. He looked back at her through large dark-rimmed glasses that gave him a scholarly appearance. In reality he was young enough to be her son and in spite of her earlier reassurances to Eloise, she wondered how much actual classroom experience he’d had.

“I don’t remember okaying that letter.”

Once more Natalie felt rebuked. “I send one home in their communication books each week to let parents know what we’ve been doing and what’s coming up.”