Maisie didn’t sleep that night, and when she came down to breakfast the following morning, she told her mother that Mike had proposed to her.
‘Jump at it,’ was Mrs Tancock’s immediate response. ‘You’ll never get a better chance to begin a new life. And, let’s face it,’ she added, glancing sadly at the photograph of Harry on the mantelpiece, ‘there’s no longer any reason for you to stay here.’
Maisie was about to express her one reservation when Stan burst into the room. She got up from the table. ‘I’d better get a move on if I’m not going to be late for work.’
‘Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that ’undred quid you owe me!’ he shouted as she left the room.
Maisie was sitting on the edge of her seat in the front row when Mr Holcombe entered the classroom at seven that evening.
Her hand shot up several times during the next hour, like a tiresome schoolgirl who knows all the answers and wants teacher to notice her. If he did, he didn’t let on.
‘Could you start coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays in future, Maisie?’ Mr Holcombe asked as they strolled across to the pub with the rest of the class.
‘Why?’ asked Maisie. ‘Aren’t I good enough?’
‘Am I not good enough,’ corrected the schoolmaster without thinking. ‘On the contrary,’ he added, ‘I’ve decided to put you into the intermediate class, before this lot,’ he said, indicating her fellow classmates with the sweep of an arm, ‘become overwhelmed.’
‘But won’t I be out of my depth, Arnold?’
‘I do hope so, but no doubt you’ll have caught up by the end of the month, by which time I’ll have to put you into the advanced class.’
Maisie didn’t respond, as she knew it wouldn’t be too long before she would have to tell Arnold that she’d made other plans for the end of the month.
Once again, they ended up sitting alone together at the bar, and once again he accompanied her back to Still House Lane, only this time, when Maisie took the front-door key out of her bag, she thought he looked as if he might be trying to summon up the courage to kiss her. Surely not. Hadn’t she got enough problems to cope with?
‘I was just wondering,’ he said, ‘which book you ought to read first.’
‘It won’t be a book,’ said Maisie as she placed the key in the lock, ‘it will be a letter.’