Thief of Hearts
Page 3
The shyer members of the class avoided making eye contact, while Mary spoke up. “My daughter went into labour early on Saturday morning. She had a healthy, eight-and-a-half-pound baby girl. I’m made up.”
“That’s wonderful news, Mary. Did she decide on a name yet?”
“She’s calling her Georgina. I’m off to the hospital later today to bring them both home.”
“Well, I’m glad it all went well and they’re both healthy,” I said and glanced around the room. “Would anybody else like to share something?”
I was met with quiet but it didn’t faze me. I knew how hard it was to speak up in situations like these, but I always encouraged my students to do so because it was a great way to build confidence. I never pushed anyone to talk, but I did like to gently cajole. My attention went to our new student.
“How about you, Stuart? Would like to tell us a little about yourself?”
“It’s Stu,” he corrected, levelling me with his eyes again.
“My apologies, Stu,” I replied kindly.
He flexed his hands. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything you’re comfortable telling us. I like to think of this class as something of a family. We all support one another, and I’m happy to provide a friendly ear. If you don’t want to tell a problem to the entire class, then I’m always available to speak with privately at the end of each day.”
His gaze moved over me and I shifted in my seat, not entirely sure why. He made me feel odd, like he knew me already, which was absurd because we’d never met before. He took his time answering, first running a hand over his jaw then rubbing his lower lip with his thumb.
“This isn’t a family,” he stated, like the idea vaguely offended him.
I tensed. “Yes, I know that. I said it was like a family, or well, as close to one as we can get.”
“Fuckers!” came a loud expletive, but it wasn’t from Stu. Kian had shouted it from his position at the back of the class. His Tourette’s had obviously kicked in. I was used to his outbursts and never made a big deal of them, no matter how obscene, but today I wondered if the presence of our new student had put him on edge.
Stu cast an amused glance in Kian’s direction then looked back at me. “You gonna let him get away with that language, Miss Anderson?”
His tone was oh so cocky and the challenge in his voice made my cheeks heat. I’d had all manner of students in my time, but none who made me feel quite so flustered. “Kian has Tourette’s,” I explained. “We all know that nothing he says is meant to insult.”
“Sorry,” said Kian, scratching his head and I cast him a kind expression.
“I’ve told you, you don’t ever need to apologise.”
Stu grinned at Kian. “So, you can get away with calling us all a bunch of wankers and arseholes and we just have to let it fly?”
Kian smiled shyly, still scratching his head. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Well, fuck me.”
I levelled Stu with a firm look. “I make an exception for Kian. You, however, are not permitted to use foul language in class.”
Stu raised his hands in the air. “My bad.”
I sniffed. “Yes well, if we could get back to my original question. Is there anything you’d like to share?”
Stu contemplated me for a long moment, then surprised everyone with his candidness. “I just got out the nick a fortnight ago. Last weekend I made up for lost time. Seeing as how I was just told off for foul language, I won’t go into details,” he said, baiting me. It was almost like he wanted to piss me off. “I enjoyed myself, though, let’s put it that way.”
“What were you in for?” Mary interjected, never shy in asking questions.
Stu glanced at her but didn’t hesitate to answer. “Stolen car racket. Learned my lesson.”
Funny, he didn’t sound like it. I wondered if the likes of Stu Cross ever learned their lesson. I was, however, relieved. At the back of my mind I’d been worried his crime might’ve been violent or sexual in nature. Stealing cars was bad, but at least it didn’t lean toward deviant behaviour.
“How long were you in for?” Mary went on.
Now Stu grew tense and a little defensive. “You writing a book, luv? Want to know what I ate for breakfast and the last time I took a shit, too?”
“Just curious. No need to get your knickers in a twist,” Mary huffed.
I could tell by the look on Stu’s face that he was two seconds away from saying something unfriendly, so I quickly cut in.
“Well, like I said, this class is a judgement-free zone. We’ve all got a clean slate here.”
Stu eyed me for a long moment, like he was trying figure out if I was full of crap. I wasn’t. My life was dedicated to helping others nowadays. It was the only way I could keep moving forward.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, we’d best start the morning’s lesson. How are you all finding the book?”
Every month I gave the class a new book to read, assigning them a few chapters a night so we could have a discussion the next day. The first book I’d chosen this year was Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure. Yes, I’ll admit, it was a heavy read, but in my opinion, a worthwhile one. I favoured stories that gave you something to take away at the end, books that brought insight, or a different perspective.
A few years ago I’d recommended the same book to Alfie. When he got to the ‘because we are too menny’ chapter, he’d stormed into my room at three in the morning, bawling his eyes out and telling me he hated me for ever suggesting he read it.
I’d always been fascinated by stories like that, where words on a page could make you feel things as strongly as though the emotional trauma was happening in real life.
“That Arabella’s some piece of work,” said Larry, pulling out his copy and plopping it down on the desk. “Known a few women like her in my time, let me tell you.”
“Ah yes, the last few chapters were about Jude and Arabella’s wedding,” I said as I grabbed my own copy and walked around the desks to hand it to Stu.
“She’s a manipulative cow,” Mary piped in. “And Jude’s a gullible fool for marrying her.”
“You can borrow this. See if you can catch up over the next few days,” I whispered quietly to him. He seemed uncomfortable as he glanced at the novel. In fairness, he didn’t exactly strike me as a bookish type.
“That’s wonderful news, Mary. Did she decide on a name yet?”
“She’s calling her Georgina. I’m off to the hospital later today to bring them both home.”
“Well, I’m glad it all went well and they’re both healthy,” I said and glanced around the room. “Would anybody else like to share something?”
I was met with quiet but it didn’t faze me. I knew how hard it was to speak up in situations like these, but I always encouraged my students to do so because it was a great way to build confidence. I never pushed anyone to talk, but I did like to gently cajole. My attention went to our new student.
“How about you, Stuart? Would like to tell us a little about yourself?”
“It’s Stu,” he corrected, levelling me with his eyes again.
“My apologies, Stu,” I replied kindly.
He flexed his hands. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything you’re comfortable telling us. I like to think of this class as something of a family. We all support one another, and I’m happy to provide a friendly ear. If you don’t want to tell a problem to the entire class, then I’m always available to speak with privately at the end of each day.”
His gaze moved over me and I shifted in my seat, not entirely sure why. He made me feel odd, like he knew me already, which was absurd because we’d never met before. He took his time answering, first running a hand over his jaw then rubbing his lower lip with his thumb.
“This isn’t a family,” he stated, like the idea vaguely offended him.
I tensed. “Yes, I know that. I said it was like a family, or well, as close to one as we can get.”
“Fuckers!” came a loud expletive, but it wasn’t from Stu. Kian had shouted it from his position at the back of the class. His Tourette’s had obviously kicked in. I was used to his outbursts and never made a big deal of them, no matter how obscene, but today I wondered if the presence of our new student had put him on edge.
Stu cast an amused glance in Kian’s direction then looked back at me. “You gonna let him get away with that language, Miss Anderson?”
His tone was oh so cocky and the challenge in his voice made my cheeks heat. I’d had all manner of students in my time, but none who made me feel quite so flustered. “Kian has Tourette’s,” I explained. “We all know that nothing he says is meant to insult.”
“Sorry,” said Kian, scratching his head and I cast him a kind expression.
“I’ve told you, you don’t ever need to apologise.”
Stu grinned at Kian. “So, you can get away with calling us all a bunch of wankers and arseholes and we just have to let it fly?”
Kian smiled shyly, still scratching his head. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Well, fuck me.”
I levelled Stu with a firm look. “I make an exception for Kian. You, however, are not permitted to use foul language in class.”
Stu raised his hands in the air. “My bad.”
I sniffed. “Yes well, if we could get back to my original question. Is there anything you’d like to share?”
Stu contemplated me for a long moment, then surprised everyone with his candidness. “I just got out the nick a fortnight ago. Last weekend I made up for lost time. Seeing as how I was just told off for foul language, I won’t go into details,” he said, baiting me. It was almost like he wanted to piss me off. “I enjoyed myself, though, let’s put it that way.”
“What were you in for?” Mary interjected, never shy in asking questions.
Stu glanced at her but didn’t hesitate to answer. “Stolen car racket. Learned my lesson.”
Funny, he didn’t sound like it. I wondered if the likes of Stu Cross ever learned their lesson. I was, however, relieved. At the back of my mind I’d been worried his crime might’ve been violent or sexual in nature. Stealing cars was bad, but at least it didn’t lean toward deviant behaviour.
“How long were you in for?” Mary went on.
Now Stu grew tense and a little defensive. “You writing a book, luv? Want to know what I ate for breakfast and the last time I took a shit, too?”
“Just curious. No need to get your knickers in a twist,” Mary huffed.
I could tell by the look on Stu’s face that he was two seconds away from saying something unfriendly, so I quickly cut in.
“Well, like I said, this class is a judgement-free zone. We’ve all got a clean slate here.”
Stu eyed me for a long moment, like he was trying figure out if I was full of crap. I wasn’t. My life was dedicated to helping others nowadays. It was the only way I could keep moving forward.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, we’d best start the morning’s lesson. How are you all finding the book?”
Every month I gave the class a new book to read, assigning them a few chapters a night so we could have a discussion the next day. The first book I’d chosen this year was Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure. Yes, I’ll admit, it was a heavy read, but in my opinion, a worthwhile one. I favoured stories that gave you something to take away at the end, books that brought insight, or a different perspective.
A few years ago I’d recommended the same book to Alfie. When he got to the ‘because we are too menny’ chapter, he’d stormed into my room at three in the morning, bawling his eyes out and telling me he hated me for ever suggesting he read it.
I’d always been fascinated by stories like that, where words on a page could make you feel things as strongly as though the emotional trauma was happening in real life.
“That Arabella’s some piece of work,” said Larry, pulling out his copy and plopping it down on the desk. “Known a few women like her in my time, let me tell you.”
“Ah yes, the last few chapters were about Jude and Arabella’s wedding,” I said as I grabbed my own copy and walked around the desks to hand it to Stu.
“She’s a manipulative cow,” Mary piped in. “And Jude’s a gullible fool for marrying her.”
“You can borrow this. See if you can catch up over the next few days,” I whispered quietly to him. He seemed uncomfortable as he glanced at the novel. In fairness, he didn’t exactly strike me as a bookish type.
