The School Gates Read Online Free PDF Page B

wasn’t schooltime, it was playtime,’ the little girl retorted.
    Mr Chambers managed to keep a straight face and looked to Inga. ‘Now I bet Inga never kissed any boys she shouldn’t have when it wasn’t playtime.’
    Inga suppressed a laugh by shaking her head. Surely Mr Chambers wasn’t flirting with her? The teacher winked at her and went back inside the classroom.
    Joan walked along with Mo, pushing her bike, whilst Clark and Kent shot ahead on the path and Skye and Rosie held on to the handlebars. Joan stopped momentarily and pulled back Cissy’s blanket to reveal the red carrier bag from the charity shop.
    ‘Here, take these.’ She handed Mo the bag. ‘I found them in the bottom of my wardrobe this morning. Must have got them for Skye last year and forgotten all about them for some reason.’
    Mo looked in the bag and saw a pair of shiny new school shoes of just the right size. Maybe she did have a guardian angel, after all.
    ‘Oh Joan, are you sure? Can’t you take them back?’
    ‘Of course I’m sure. They won’t change them this far on.’
    ‘Well, I shall give you some money for them.’
    ‘No, you won’t. The state of my place, if I hadn’t been having a clear-out they’d have been hidden there until the kids left home.’
    ‘Thank you so much, Joan, you don’t realise how much this means to me.’
    The wise mum smiled, understanding exactly just how much it did.
    Stephen McNair rolled over, lay back and looked up at the ceiling. His smooth chest bore just a few beads of sweat and his breathing was heavy. His auburn locks were all over the place.
    ‘Do you think that now we’ve done it twice in six years it counts as an affair?’ he said with worry in his voice.
    Alana rose up on to one elbow on the crisp white Egyptian cotton sheets in the minimalistic London hotel room, and looked into his eyes. ‘It’s what you want it to be, Mr McNair,’ she slurred slightly, the effect of the two bottles of wine they had shared at lunchtime still with her.
    He jumped up, went to the bathroom and gathered a robe. Coming back in, he sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.
    ‘I haven’t had sex for ages,’ he blurted out.
    ‘Glad I could serve a purpose,’ Alana replied coldly.
    ‘I can’t leave my wife,’ he reacted suddenly.
    ‘I don’t recall asking you to,’ she said, her voice sharp.
    He stood up and looked at his watch. ‘Oh Christ, it’s six o’clock – I really must get home.’
    ‘Six!’ Alana exclaimed. ‘Inga wanted to leave at seven today – I’ll never make it.’ She shot up out of bed and began pulling her clothes on.
    ‘Well, don’t for one minute think you’re driving, Alana Murray.’
    ‘How else am I going to get home?’
    In his calm and caring manner Stephen took charge. ‘I will call Sandra, and she can book you a car. Just ask the driver to collect you in the morning then come back in to Chiswick to collect yours.’
    ‘I feel fine to drive,’ she whined.
    ‘You’re not driving,’ Stephen reiterated. Catching Alana’s eye, he gathered her to him, murmuring, ‘What are we going to do? You know this isn’t me.’
    Alana pulled away quickly.
    ‘Let’s talk when we’re sober, eh Stephen? At the moment it feels like an awful déjà-vu. Now, get me that bloody car, will you.’
    Alana swore as she dropped her front door keys in her drive. The car that Stephen had ordered for her had been warm and comfortable and she had slept most of the way home. The stark reality of life hit her when Inga flew out of the front door, the whites of her pretty eyes showing.
    ‘That is it, I quit!’ The young au pair strode purposefully down the drive. ‘I meet a boy at seven-thirty and it is now eight. He will not wait for me as the film start already. This is the fourth time you don’t even let me know.’
    ‘But Inga…’ Alana tried to reason with her but Inga carried on down the drive, head held high. ‘Wait!’ she shouted after her. Inga