Natalia held her breath watching Neill the next morning at Assembly, announcing he’d had a lovely second week here, with a glint in his eye quipping, ‘I’m even getting used to your Yorkshire weather, as grey and dismal as your sweaters,’ to a sprinkle of laughs. 

He handed the podium to another teacher to distribute certificates for Year 7 swimming, as Natalia yawned and scanned the teachers, noticing there was no Luxton or Cohen to be seen. Were they really gone?

***

Clutching her plate in the lunch queue later, almost at the serving counter, a stout jacketed arm appeared in front of her to reach the crockery trolley, as she tossed her brown ponytail round in surprise.

‘Excuse me, young lady,’ came the voice of Neill himself, as the surround...

Please subscribe to keep reading.