Gemma smoothed the folds of her 1950’s swing skirt down against her legs and checked her reflection in the car mirror one last time. A pale face with huge, brown, terrified eyes stared back at her. She reached for her “peachy pout” lipstick before halting with it half way to her lips..... hang on. Teachers didn’t wear bright lipstick did they? God, she was going to fail at this miserably. Defiantly, she slashed a slick of glorious colour across her full slips and stepped from the car. She was ridiculously early, her small fiat the only vehicle in the school car park. Clutching her new leather work satchel, Gemma made her way to the reception.
“Welcome to Cinderhurst Primary” declared the cheerful blue and green sign. Gemma took a moment to look around her new surroundings. This was it! Her first job as a qualified teacher!! She reached into her bag to grab her phone to take a ‘first day’ selfie in front of the sign when a huge gust of wind caught the ruffles of her vintage dress and lifted it over her head! Battling it down Gemma sent a prayer of thanks that the school was deserted still! She was just posing for her Instagram moment when a deep, amused voice interrupted.
“Can I help you?”
Oh shit!!!
Gemma swung around so fast that her leather satchel flew from her shoulder, it’s contents spilling onto the path.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
She scrabbled after the various escapee items only to find herself staring at a pair of very expensive, very shiny brown brogues. Lifting her eyes, Gemma scanned her way up toned thighs in impeccably tailored grey trousers, a lean midriff encased in a crisp white shirt, sapphire blue tie and charcoal waistcoat to finally stare into eyes the colour of a summer sky. She stood hastily, brandishing the item she had clutched from between his feet. “Got it!” She declared brightly. His penetrating gaze settled on the object in her hand and his mouth twitched with barely concealed amusement. Gemma finally looked at what she was waving in front of her.
Heat rushed to her face as she focused on the foil packet announcing it was “extra thin for pleasure”.
Shiiiiiiit!
Hastily Gemma shoved the offending article back into her bag and attempted to straighten her appearance and cool her flaming face.
“So, can I?”
The man was still looking at her with puzzled amusement.
Get a grip! Gemma scolded herself and tried to concentrate. Who was he? A teacher? Parent?
“Sorry!! I’m Gemma Fisk! I’m starting with year 4 today! NQT!”
She stuck out her hand only to realise she was holding a tampon before hastily withdrawing it and instead nodding enthusiastically.
One dark eyebrow lifted sardonically.
“Well Gemma. Have a great first day! Reception is up the path to the left! The ladies there are lovely and will show you around”
He smiled a devistating, slightly crooked smile and strode down towards the school gates. Gemma watched him leave, her eyes drawn to the breadth of his shoulder and the luxuriant curl of his hair on his collar.
Please, please, PLEASE don’t be a colleague! She needed to focus and THAT was not going to help in the slightest!
Grinning sheepishly, Gemma donned her satchel and walked in the direction he had pointed in.
Having finally loaded up with pilfered stationary, the obligatory “new starter paperwork” and a cup of tea, Gemma made her way along the blue carpeted corridors towards the year 4/5 area. She carefully scrutinised the art work displayed as she went. Bowls of fruit, self portraits, dragons. Nothing abstract. She’d have to change that! Gemma adored bold splashes of colour and the kids loved getting creative with textures and layers. Pushing a door open with her left buttock, she precariously balanced her tea cup on a lever arch file in her left hand in order to fumble for the light switch. Suddenly a waft of deliciously masculine, lemony aftershave surrounded her and a warm, firm hand steadied her elbow. “Woah there!” Said a voice filled with warmth and humour. “You found the secret paper stash then? I can see we are going to have watch you, you little tea leaf!”. Gemma turned to see impossibly white teeth smiling through full lips in a chiselled face the colour of caramel. “I’m Max” said the teeth. “You must be Jenna with year 4?!”. Gemma’s brain registered the question and her mouth opened to respond but Max was already talking again. “You’ll love it here. We are all pretty decent. Don’t believe a word anyone says about me!” He grinned cheekily. Gemma smiled “I shall reserve judgement” she parried with a wink. What on earth? Was she seriously flirting with a man she had only just met!? Max didn’t seem to mind. In fact he looked at her vintage outfit appraisingly before leaning closer and whispering “only half of its true!”. He shot her a naughty grin and disappeared off towards the staff room. Gemma found her desk and unloaded her hoard. She felt flustered and overheated. Opening a few window, she reflected on the fact that she had encountered more testosterone in fifteen minutes in this new job than in 12 years at Bedhams. A grin spread over her face. Maybe teaching wasn’t going to be all work and no play.
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