Heatstroke by Hazel Barkworth

Author:Hazel Barkworth [Barkworth, Hazel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781472265630
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2020-05-28T00:00:00+00:00

6

‘So, I’d like to meet this Aaron.’ Rachel immediately cursed her phrasing. The awkwardness didn’t escape Mia. She was concocting her breakfast that Wednesday morning: a fashionable blend of yoghurt, overnight-soaked oats and the almond butter she’d made Rachel add to the shopping list. Her friends were dedicated to a young Instagram health star, and were refusing toast or cereal. They had to think about their slow-release proteins. Mia stopped mid-stir.

‘What? “This Aaron.” What even is that? No. No way.’

Rachel pulled her feet onto the chair, sipped from the mug she held with both hands. She made her voice rise, innocent. ‘Why on earth not, Mia? You obviously like him, and I’m sure I’ll like him too. I’m sure he’s an incredibly charming young man.’

‘No way. It’s weird. We’re just seeing each other. You don’t need to meet him. It’s not serious.’

‘That’s not what I’ve heard.’

Mia thudded her bowl on the kitchen table and sat down in one slumped movement. ‘Oh my God. I hate that you’re a teacher. I get no privacy whatsoever. It’s a violation. Why can’t you teach at a different school? What have you heard?’

‘I’ve heard enough that I want to meet him.’

‘You don’t need to. You literally spend all day in the same building as him. This is ridiculous.’

Her voice was high now, nearly a whine.

Rachel didn’t give up. ‘I want to meet him properly. Here. For dinner.’

‘Please, no. He won’t want to come. It will be awful.’

‘It will be perfectly lovely. We’ll eat dinner, we’ll talk. He’ll be delighted to join us, I’m sure. His exams are over now, and I’m sure he has no plans for tomorrow night.’

‘Dinner? That is hideous. No one has dinner.’

‘We all have to eat, darling. Even Aaron. He can just eat here. With you and me.’ Rachel watched as Mia bowed her head over the bowl of brown and white swirls. Her hair fell in a sheet, hiding her face. She pushed the conversation no further, just swallowed her hearty mush in stolid resignation.

The drama studio remained a cool sanctuary from the blazing days. Briony, Ross and Dominic still turned up twice a week at lunchtime, eager to hone scenes, to nail their lines. The show was not scheduled until the very end of term and, with over a fortnight to go, they seemed convinced that if Lily came back it could all go ahead, just as planned. She didn’t have many lines: Laura Wingfield was rarely in scenes four and five; she was more talked about than talking. They could rehearse around her, and she could slot back in on her return. Rachel knew it was impossible, but let herself be buoyed by their conviction. It was foolish, but it would have been so much worse to recast, to cancel.

As the others moved through the scenes, Rachel held her highlighted copy of the play and read the lines Lily had memorised. It was unexpectedly humiliating. Dominic had dedicated himself to perfecting the walk, the timbre of a full-grown man.

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