School Run Read Online Free PDF Page A

outside school, her beautiful face gritted with determination. This place was getting more like the dodgems every day. It was a miracle no one had been killed.
    ‘Look out! You nearly went into the side of that Discovery.’
    ‘It wasn’t my fault, Dad. She shouldn’t have swung out like that.’ Julie pouted.
    Nick felt the familiar pang of loss. At seventeen, she was the spitting image of her mother at that age. Sometimes Nick could hardly believe he had met Juliana when she was barely out of school. He remembered it as if it was yesterday. Fresh and beautiful, she had been chosen as New Face of the Year by a teen magazine and he was the lucky photographer who had been commissioned to do the shoot. And even though he was nearly ten years older, it had been love – not just lust – at first sight.
    ‘Easy does it. That’s right. Straighten up now. Straighten up, I said! Oh, God!’
    Nick covered his face with his hands, unable to look as Julie reversed clumsily into the space that, by some miracle, had just been vacated in the school run scrabble. As he raised his head, he caught sight of himself in the wing mirror. He looked like a scared stranger – but, then, he often felt like that when he looked in the mirror. Sure, the basic bits were still there: the strong nose that Juliana had called handsome; the short, fashionable haircut that made him (if he said so himself ) look younger than his forty-five years; the intentionally semi-shaved chin that made life easier in the morning rush and which Juliana had always loved to nuzzle; and the laughter lines round his eyes, which still felt hollow with grief. What right did he have to smile with Juliana’s make-up still on the dressing table?
    ‘I know what I’m doing, Dad. See?’
    An exultant Julie grinned at him, having successfully – if unevenly – reversed into the space. He couldn’t help grinning back, with a wave of relief that they were still in one piece. His daughter’s dark looks (inherited from the West Indian side of Juliana’s family) were stunning, and her sparkly eyes under that cluster of black eyelashes challenged you not to sparkle back. Her lips were full, again just like her mother’s, something she took pride in. Since her mother’s death, all Julie had wanted was to emulate her. She even insisted on everyone calling her Julie, instead of her real name, Jani, because it was more like Juliana. And, even worse, she only wanted to do one thing in life: be a model like her mother. What would Juliana have said? What would she think about Julie driving? About her first boyfriend?
    ‘So can I apply for my test?’
    Nick turned up the radio. ‘Hang on a minute, it’s the sports report.’
    Julie turned it down again. ‘Dad, don’t change the subject.’
    Nick sighed. He had wanted to hear the bit about Arsenal. ‘What does your driving instructor say?’
    Julie pouted again. To Nick’s expert eye, it looked well practised, probably in the mirror. ‘He said I should wait a few weeks so I can have more lessons.’
    Nick mentally blessed the driving instructor. ‘Let’s do that, then, shall we? In the meantime, we’ll get in as much practice as we can.’
    ‘But, Dad, it takes ages for tests to come through. Wouldn’t it be better to book now?’
    Nick knew he was on a losing wicket. Since Juliana had died, he had felt so full of guilt and remorse that it had been difficult to refuse their daughter anything – apart from the one thing that really mattered to her. ‘We’ll see.’
    Julie grinned. They both knew that meant ‘yes’. ‘Pick me up at four, then? I can drive back.’
    Nick glanced at a pretty mother, who was smiling at them. She’d been one of Juliana’s acquaintances. Briefly, he smiled back, not wanting to start a conversation. It was always a mistake. The women meant to be kind but their eyes shone with pity, which made Nick feel uncomfortable. ‘There goes that poor man whose wife died.’ Or ‘How are you