Free From a Safe Distance by Julia Bishop Page B

girls quite quickly. I’ve been here ten years and I love it.’ She gave one of her laughs, which resembled deep-seated panting. ‘And there’s very little in the way of serious disruptive behaviour. After all, their parents are paying, and they’d soon hear if anything happened. The girls come from all over the world, you know.’
    I realised I was the youngest teacher there. And at last I could now do what I’d always wanted to do: enjoy my work. Marking in the evenings was nowhere near as daunting as before, and I could give individual attention more easily.
    On the subject of individual attention, the brand new computer room was opposite the staffroom in House 1: I was to spend some time in there, though not necessarily occupied with computing. Tony taught IT, when it had just emerged from maths as a separate subject. We found we were attracted to each other. On the last day before half-term, when as usual there was sherry in the staffroom, Tony went across the way to pack up his things. I teased, flirted. The sherry was strong.
    â€˜You keep on like that and I’ll be round your flat.’
    I draped myself up the doorframe when the coast was clear. ‘Can if you want.’ The sexual tension between us about to find release, I drove home and waited, nervous but excited by the secrecy. I had only had one boyfriend up to then.
    I lived on the top floor of a forties semi, near the railway line. It belonged to one of the other teachers and I paid a low rent because one room was full of his stuff. All the bedroom furniture was in dark wood and there was a flimsy camp bed in the corner. Everything seemed to be tidy today. But now here was Tony’s car. My heart jumped and I went down to let him in. He was married, so we had to be discreet, but right now discretion was the last thing on our minds. The kissing was powerful, our clothes went everywhere. It was sheer lust and it felt good, perhaps because of the guilt.
    Then one day Miss Henshaw came into the computer room and we had to put our hands away. ‘Ah, Miss Gates. I didn’t know you were interested in computers!’
    I knew I looked guilty. ‘I … I’m having lessons,’ I managed.
    â€˜I see. How’s she doing, Mr Brown?’
    â€˜Oh,’ Tony gave a nervous laugh. ‘Shaping up nicely!’
    This unfortunate expression didn’t help at all; Miss Henshaw looked at each of us in turn, raised her eyebrows, nodded sagely and walked out. I sighed. I suppose she could hardly say, “Keep it up!” could she?
    Tony and I met regularly for a while at my flat, but with Christmas coming, he would be needed more at home. And my downstairs neighbours complained to my landlord about the bedroom noises. A camp bed on bare boards. Rather embarrassing to recall.
    But worse was to come.
    â€˜I heard of two teachers once,’ began Mrs Selby, science, as she addressed the group round the staffroom table one lunchtime. ‘They used to meet once a week – oh, yes, and at the end of term, after the sherry.’
    Luckily I had my back to them, but I sensed that the others were smiling as they got the message. My skin tingled.
    â€˜He was married, but his car was seen outside her flat.’
    I dared not try to catch Tony’s eye. It would have meant turning my head and it was not difficult to imagine that I was being watched.
    â€˜They thought nobody knew, but you could tell which day of the week it was – at least, so I’m told.’
    When the time came for afternoon lessons, I found it hard to know where to look and wanted to escape from the staffroom as unobtrusively as possible. But I nearly knocked over the Christmas tree in the foyer. Nowadays I would probably have smiled at Mrs Selby as if I hadn’t recognised myself.
    Ben’s motorbike pulled up. Tony and I were in the bedroom. I knew Ben fancied me, but I wasn’t expecting him. I panicked, threw on my