She stuffed her hands into her pocket as she paced about the apartment, her long red skirt shuffling on the floor. Today was the first time that her book would be read aloud to a group of small children.
Reaching for the crimson spotty bag she double checked that she had everything: tissues, phone, purse, a few copies of "the elephant’s new sunglasses" (her debut book), and her lucky necklace, a simple pendant heart that hung around her thin neck. Almost quivering.
Picking up her car keys and taking one last look in the mirror she decided she was good to go. This book had been in the making for two whole years. "The Elephant’s New Sunglasses written and illustrated by Thea-Dora Wilson”. It didn’t even seem real. Her name, on a real life, printed book. That people could buy. Just wow.
Thea started her car and ignored the nerves and she let herself squeal with excitement as she rolled off her driveway.
How was she late, she had left with plenty of time to spare.
The never-ending line of blue and red and silver blurred as she took off her glasses to relieve her eyes. Thea groaned into the steering wheel.
Ah finally, a move.
"You will arrive at your destination in fifteen minutes."
"Oh, shut up you, sorry.
Why did I apologise to a sat-nav? Eugh."
She let the window down as the car crawled towards the tiny town primary school. The tannoy was a faded yellow and looked like it had been victim to a few bumps over the years.
She pressed the button. "Hello?"
"Hello who's this please?" spoke the metal machine.
"My name is Thea-Dora Wilson , I-I'm here to read."
There was a loud clunk and then the voice spoke again "I'm sorry I dropped the receiver, you're the writer? Come on in."
As she finally pulled into the car park, she saw the welcoming party, at the front the excitable Headmistress was dressed in mad patterns from head to toe, stood beside her were three children and a man with a lanyard and a flask wearing a knitted sleeve. The tall gentleman beckoned her into space. He seemed confused as he sent her out and in and then back out again. Then again.
She didn’t have time for this.
"I know how to park thank you very much."
Ignoring eye contact with the man she shook the headmistresses’ hand and was quickly ushered into the hall where 100 watching eyes were already watching in tiny ties and bearing grins.
"This is Mr Goodman's class," said the Head Mistress as she set up the chair ready for the reading.
Thea wondered who Mr Goodman could be, she imagined a sweet old man in a knitted sweater with a flask of tea- "Goood Mor-ning Mist-er Good-man," came a chorus of four-year olds. As Thea turned, she scowled. Her prediction was two/three. He was indeed wearing a sweater and carrying a little mug of something, but it was the man from the car park, and as she looked she realised that he was definitely not old. His brown curls sat playfully on his head and he was (if Thea had to guess- which she loved to do) around 27 years old.
It was a physical effort to not roll her eyes as he shuffled over to shake her hand. His neck was pink, and he ran his hand through his tousled brown hair.
"look i-a-i."
He stopped and his expression said it all.
"Good morning children, this is Thea-Dora Wilson and she’s a writer. Today she is going to be reading her brand new book 'The Elephant’s New Sunglasses.'” Said the Head as the class gave a polite clap.
With a deep breath she began to read.
-----------
"And with a hoot
And a splash
And another hoot and a shout
The elephant put the sunglasses right on his snoot.
The end."
The little hands began to clap and the children they belonged to beamed and chatted between themselves.
The whole hall was swaying, and Thea was the cause. These children loved the book, and as for Mr Goodman, he was sat mouth agape. The blush from his neck had crept to his cheeks. Thea suddenly became very aware of herself and smoothed her skirt against her legs. As the children filtered out of the hall Mr Goodman approached her.
"The kids really seem to love you Miss, i-I thought it was great and - erm- the kids loved you. Ah I already said that."
He stepped back, his hands wouldn’t quite fit into his pockets resulting in 7 seconds of awkward shuffling before he decided to let them hang loose.
Thea had to look away to hide her amusement.
He cleared his throat, leading her towards the staff room.
As Thea reached to put the book in her bag her hand brushed Mr Goodman's, who of course shot it away so fast he smacked himself in the leg.
“Gah, I'm so sorry, this whole day has been a train wreck from me. Can we star-“
He was interrupted by applause from the teachers as the staff welcomed the writer into the small room. Her thoughts trailed off as everyone shook her hand and congratulated her. Surrounding her, and all of a sudden it was hot, her shoes stuck to her ankles and it was hard to breathe.
The well-meaning teachers got closer asking if she was okay and if she needed anything, but they were suffocating her. Mr Goodman had backed against the wall as to give her some space and avoid making another fool of himself, but he could see that something was wrong, her panicked gaze and frantic hands made his brain hurt.
Without thinking he pulled the fire alarm, and the kind chatter turned to shrill terror. The teachers and staff quickly dispersed to join their classes out on the playground.
Thea collapsed into a heap against the wall- almost. Mr Goodman's arms caught her, and she sunk into him and stifled a sob, just for a moment. When she regained composure she slowly tried to push off him. He let her out of his clasp and stood meekly while she smoothed her skirt and started to brush her hair back to its position. Mr Goodman reached over and lightly brushed the remaining strands of hair behind her ear, just stopping to gently sweep her cheek.
“Are you alright?” he asked finally.
“yes, quite thank you. Sorry about that, that’s so embarrassing i-“
“Don-don’t.”
It was quiet again. Thea shuffled her feet. She wished her anxiety hadn’t got the better of her, it was almost under control, it was a lot better than her days at university anyway.
She sat herself down on the slightly worn sofa and Mr Goodman sat beside her.
He was shaking too.
They sat side by side until Thea realised something, “what about your class?”
Mr Goodman looked confused then said “I actually have this afternoon off, after first class I have my planning time”
That seemed to be a good enough answer for her.
“If you’re feeling better would you like a tour, of the school I mean.”
She didn’t say anything, but she stood up relieved and pulled a cardigan out of her bag nodding.
The school was a maze of corridors and doors and more doors, exactly as she remembered her own primary school. He showed her each class and each one greeted her with “Good afternoon Miss Wilson.”
The two walked in a quiet harmony, nothing was said except when they reached each new feature point in the school. There was a charming bamboo hut, a small choir room, and a delightful library. The library however was to be closed until further notice.
"How come there isn't anyone in the library?" asked Thea tentatively, her school library had been the highlight of her primary school, not this sad dark room with stiff chairs.
"No one really wants to be a librarian anymore, we just couldn’t find anyone to do it, there was someone for a while but they got bored and left, you have to be good with children and be good at organising to work in that." replied Mr Goodman with a wistful shrug.
They carried on walking through the school until they reached the large red garden doors next to the year six classroom.
As Mr Goodman opened the door Thea chuckled, "Sir, Mr Go- sorry."
"What for Thea?' he said with visible confusion.
"Well, it just seems odd that I don’t actually know your name, I mean I can call you Mr Goodman, but I just feel like I'm at school agai- I mean I am but you know what I mean."
Chuckling, they stepped into the bright afternoon air.
"Oh this is so lovely!"
They walked around the pond and the allotments and headed towards the little greenhouse at the end of the cobbled path.
"This is where the gardening club try to grow their own vegetables," he said opening the green glass door. "The club consists of year five and six children who meet one lunch time a week, supervised of course by-"
"Do they manage to grow much?," looking around the little room Thea could see lots of little pots with assorted labels on shelves that spanned the entire glass room. At the top of the shelf there was an intricately painted plant pot labelled Lucian G. It was covered in a gold and white swirling pattern.
"Whose is this, this looks beautiful. They must be year 6,or a TA?" Thea, pointed at the pot in awe.
Mr Goodman shifted on his feet. "That’s me, my name is Lucian, my friends call me lucky."
Suddenly the door slammed shut and a chorus of laughter rose up form the garden.
"And if I'm locked here with you, I guess that does make me lucky,"
Thea laughed and leant against the door, which didn’t open.
“C’mon children,” she tried again. But the children had already left.
Lucian Goodman, strong, sweater wearing, and dorky, strode over to the door with a smile, he found it adorable that this lovely girl couldn’t open a children's greenhouse door.
He pushed it with one hand.
Then two.
"Oh. I guess it really is stuck."
"Did you not think I could open it?”
Thea-Dora was many things, and one of those things was a feminist, she could not be doing with men who thought that they were superior just because they were bigger than her 5ft 2 slim frame. Lucian was almost 6ft with broad shoulders, but that didn’t make him better than her.
"I-I I'm sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I'm just. I'm not good at small spaces. Please try again. I'm sorry." He sat down on an upturned plant pot with his head in his hands.
As the time passed by Thea paced up and down the small wooden floor, shoes clacking. Windows steaming.
"Are we going to have to smash open this window" she asked holding a lopsided cactus labelled 'Jakes's prick'.
Lucian didn’t say anything.
"Hey. hey," she put her hand on his shoulder.
The door opened and Lucian bolted.
One of the children who had let them out recognised her from the reading and pulled her towards his friends. Thea looked around but Mr Goodman was no-where to be seen.
Once the children had shown her back to the staff room, she said goodbye to the head mistress. Stopping outside the darkened library she pulled out the copy of her book that she had read not 3 hours earlier, and placed it by the door.
Before she reached the exit she found herself outside Lucians classroom. She decided to leave him a copy too.
Creaking the door open she slid through the gap and into the large room. She took a peaceful breath, the afternoon light had rendered the walls in golden shadows. The children's handprint art was displayed on a large blue board behind the teachers chair. She placed the book on the desk and she headed once again for the door, but not before slipping a pink post it note between the cover and contents page.
Lucian "lucky" Goodman had stayed true to his name, when he returned to his classroom after all the children had left he spotted the book. And a note that read "I count myself lucky today, call me? With a neat scrawled mobile number written with a flourish .”
Written by Rosella Hazeldine - 19
"I have always wanted to write, ever since getting into trouble in year 7 for using all of my printing credits to print my collection of ghost stories which I'm certain no one read except my mum. Its so good to have a platform now where people can read my work."
