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Back What I Never Told you
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Dawn Goodwin
  3. WHAT I NEVER TOLD YOU
  4. Copyright
  5. Contents
  6. Dedication
  7. Prologue
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. Acknowledgements
  55. About the Author
  56. An Invitation from the Publisher

Later we are paired up again, this time for French. It’s like I can’t get away from her, fate pushing her into my direct path – or the teachers manufacturing it that way. Eloise, Steph and Emily don’t take French, but their judgemental shadows hang over me as Tracey takes the free desk next to me. The teacher has paired us up for dialogue practice and I’m not sure what to say initially.

She says, “How’s your French?”

“Not bad, I guess. My accent sounds a bit dodgy, a cross between Inspector Clouseau and the old guy from ‘Allo ‘Allo, but passable, I guess.”

She laughs and we start going through the dialogue.

Her French is good. Better than good. She’s clearly very smart and now I’m feeling a little intimidated. I could keep up if I tried, but I’m used to dumbing down for the company I keep. No one is allowed to be smarter than Eloise. This is unnatural ground for me.

When the bell rings for the end of the lesson, this time Tracey starts chatting to me as we pack up.

“So I guess you’ve been at this school a long time then?”

“Yeah, from the start. I live in Hamblemere, always have done. What about you?”

“We’ve just moved here from Nottingham. My grandad owned a dairy farm down here and he passed away, so my parents sold up to come and take over the farm.”

“Was that Mr Deane?” I remember him from the village, always in wellies and a flat cap, raising a hand in greeting whenever anyone walked past, often seen sitting on some form of farm equipment. I hadn’t made the connection until now.

“Yeah. We’ve scaled the farm back a little, but my dad didn’t want to sell it completely, so I help out a bit when I can.”

She makes it sound like it’s nothing. I don’t even make myself a cup of tea most days.

“I’m sorry – about your grandad. He seemed nice.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t really know him that well.”

We’re at the classroom door and I can see the top of Emily’s head as she bops behind Eloise, weaving through the masses heading to lunch.

Tracey sees them too. She smiles at me almost sadly, then disappears.

El waves me over. “Brian is so into me,” she says.

“Is he?” I reply flatly.