The Arms of Morpheus

Chapter 3

Amelia tugged at the steering wheel of the silver Volvo S40, as she negotiated the winding road towards home. The car was bigger than any she had previously owned, but the extra space and comfort were necessary to take the edge off the sixty-mile journey she made each day. Pressing the gas pedal to the floor, she accelerated to twenty above the speed limit; aggression still in her system.

When she had joined Wisbech, the school was undergoing somewhat of a transformation. A new head had been appointed and was proposing some radical changes. Among them the introduction of classics to the school curriculum.

When she had been approached about the position, Amelia could not believe her luck. She had finished her training the year before, graduating from Durham University with a BA (honours) degree in Humanities. Originally from Wiltshire, she had moved to North Cambridgeshire following the death of her Father to be with her Fiancé, taking their young daughter with her. Her Mother had died when she was too young to remember and the subsequent estranged relationship that had developed between her and her Step Mother persuaded Amelia that it was time to end her daughter's long distance relationship with her Father, time all three of them lived under the same roof. Like a real family.

It was here that she had become acquainted with a small group of teachers that used the local pub, The Rose Tavern.

One evening, as they resolved the world's problems over a bottle of Chardonnay, the vacant post in the newly appointed position of 'Head of Classics' was discussed. After applying to the head teacher, she was interviewed and, although some of the more archaic members of the board took an obvious dislike to her, the head seemed to like her and she was duly offered the position.

The relationship, however, was short lived. Six months into her tenure, the head was removed from his post. Apparently - although the staff were never fully briefed on the intimate details - financial "irregularities" were cited as the reason, this sensitive information extracted subconsciously from Buddha over a coffee.

His replacement was more of a conformist than a revolutionary; the more primordial members of the board obviously getting their way this time. Looking back, this was the beginning of the end for her. Her budget had been repeatedly cut and her only other departmental member released over two years ago.

She should have seen this coming.

                                                                                      ***

'Mommy, Mommy! Look what I made!' Blake ran towards her mother before she had time to close the front door; a piece of paper thrust into her midriff.

Blake Jarvis had been the catalyst for many changes in Amelia's life. Before her, life was simple, almost spontaneous. Each day was taken as it came, with her and Noel enjoying life to the full. When Amelia had become pregnant it had not been planned, however she and Noel agreed, Blake had been the best 'mistake' that they had ever made. Five years ago, her birth gave Amelia something remarkable: A reason for being.

'Whoa, sweetie! Just give me a second here!' Amelia exclaimed.

'Don't be long.' Blake groaned, impatient to show her mother her artwork. Amelia smiled as her daughter skipped back into the sitting room; brown ringlets of shining hair swinging as she went.

It is a fact that all parents believe their own children to be the most beautiful on the planet. But, in this case, Amelia was convinced she was right. Her daughter was a consummate beauty. With her mother's hair and her father's penetrating brown eyes, she had the ability to lift Amelia's spirits without even talking. Just being in the same room as her made Amelia feel complete.