The Keeper

Confession

Martha took a deep breath and confessed to her friend. "I'm the reason Mr Finlay left the school."

"What? What are you saying?" Amy stood up and put her hands to her mouth. "Oh my god... Did you have an affair with Mr Finlay?"

"No. Well, yes. Kind of. We didn't sleep with each other or anything."

"But you kissed him?"

"Yes."

"No bloody way!" Amy sat back down. "What was that like? Was he a good kisser?"

"Amy!" Martha laughed.

"Come on – half the bloomin' art class has imagined kissing him. I bet it was dreamy," she said, clasping her hands together.

"It was – but we only kissed once. I kind of ambushed him."

"Where?"

"At our art exhibition." Martha could see Amy replaying the evening in her head.

"Right... Yes. I wondered where you were. But hey, one kiss is hardly an affair. He shouldn't have been fired."

"I know. The kiss wasn't the problem." Martha told Amy about the letters.

"So his wife found out about your letters, probably assumed that more was going on and then told Miss Staverly, but went on to shack up with her lover, and Mr Finlay moved out?"

"That about sums it up, yes."

"He didn't tell you where he went? Not even a clue?"

"No. He doesn't want me to find him."

"Maybe he'll come back once the dust has settled."

"His listing has gone from the phone book and they've sold the house that was listed. It's in the window of the estate agents on Church Street."

"Wow. You've done your homework."

"I'm good at doing homework," said Martha, laughing. And then crying, as Amy put her arm around her.

She squeezed Martha hard. "You poor, poor thing. No wonder you've been so... weird."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be daft. And cheer up; there's still a chance he'll come back."

"I don't think so. He didn't like his life here, anyway. What's he got to come back to?"

"You?"

"He was conflicted about me. He thought it wasn't the right thing to do."

"You can see his point. If this got out around the school, the place would go bonkers."

Martha looked startled.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"Promise you won't tell anyone, not even Marcus?"

"I promise. It's our secret. Well, ours and Miss Staverly's. I never thought I'd have anything in common with that old bat."

Martha laughed. It felt good to unburden herself.

* * *

The rest of the school year was fairly uneventful. If Martha went out on a Friday or Saturday night, she would play gooseberry with Marcus and Amy, or join them and Marcus's friends who were also coupled up. Often she worked extra shifts at the café, which had a late licence for the weekend. It kept her out of trouble and trickled money into her depleted savings account. London was going to be expensive, and Martha's parents were worrying about it. They sat down with her one evening to talk about exactly how much they could pay. The scholarship she'd won (one of the last things Dean had done for her was to apply for that) covered her tuition, and her folks could pay for the accommodation in halls. She would have to fork out for her food, textbooks and materials. Going out would be a luxury if she didn't get herself a part-time job. She said she'd figure it out, telling them she'd be fine, but she kicked herself for spending so much money on clothes and going out before coming to her senses.

"You should come to Manchester," said Amy. "It'll be half the price of living in London."

"You'll spend all the money you save on heating," said Martha.

"Don't be daft. I'll wear this all the time." Amy pushed up the collar of her Afghan coat, her latest acquisition from a vintage clothing shop that had opened up in the arcade. The two friends were walking around Long Castle. It was a clear April day and the sun was warm on their backs, but an easterly blew the cold through Martha's sweater.

"Will you wear that in bed? Woo, what a turn on! Marcus will love that..."

"Marcus won't be there."

"What? Have you two split up?"

"No, but we might as well. He got into Exeter through Clearing."

"That's brilliant for him. And why can't you stay together? There are trains, you know."

"Right. There's a train down to London, a Tube across and then another train to get to Devon. It literally takes all day. I'd get there and then have to get on the next train home."

"Bugger. I like Marcus."

"I know. Hey, maybe you can go out with him. He likes you too."

"Ha ha – not like that. He's not my type. Anyway, it would be weird."

"True. But you should go out with someone, Martha. It's been ages..."

"It feels like it was yesterday. It's like there's a hole in my chest where part of my heart was, and I can't find a way to fill it."

Amy wrapped Martha in her coat as they walked down the track to the car. The wind whipped away her tears and Amy squeezed her tight, leaning into her to say, "You're going to be okay, mate. You're going to be okay."