The Good Teacher Read online

  After lunch, Maz showed the fundraising site to Nico.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘It’s bloody brilliant!’ Nico declared. ‘Gracie’s a brave kid and she’s part of our gym family. Let’s get the gym involved.’

  ‘Awesome. I could make some posters to stick on the walls.’

  ‘Good idea. Get the instructors talking it up to their classes. I’ll match every dollar donated.’

  ‘Why don’t we get a little gym uniform for Gracie?’ Maz suggested. ‘Could they print one in her size?’

  ‘Yeah. We could take a photo of her in the outfit and put it on the poster.’

  ‘Now that would be super cute!’

  In one corner of the weights room, the teenagers were laughing, mucking around with the dumbbells, and eyeing off the woman on the lat pulldown. They’d dropped their drink bottles on the floor and draped their towels over the leg press and the rowing machine.

  ‘Hey, guys, how’re you doing?’ Maz asked. ‘Do you need any help with the equipment?’

  ‘Yeah, nah. We’re good.’

  She wanted to tell them to tidy up, in the nicest possible way. Without sounding like a schoolteacher. When she first joined as a teenager, it had taken months for her to feel welcome with all the adults and gym junkies around.

  ‘Can I give you a few tips on the leg press?’ Maz beamed her thousand-kilowatt smile. ‘It can really work your glutes, quads and hammies. And at home you can follow it up with squats.’

  As Maz showed them the correct technique, she mentioned the best spot for their water bottles and towels. Each of the boys had a turn and Maz assessed their movements.

  ‘Great. Make sure you feel comfortable at that level before taking the weights any heavier.’

  ‘Is this the best way to bulk up our thighs?’ asked the skinniest guy.

  ‘It’s a good option.’

  Maz was about to leave when she noticed two boys elbowing each other.

  ‘You ask,’ one of them whispered.

  ‘What else can I help you with?’

  ‘We heard that there are some—’ the boy looked at his friend for support ‘—supplements you can take to build muscle. Do you know what sort we should buy?’

  ‘I can certainly assist you with that.’

  More clients. Awesome. These guys could live their best lives too.

  11

  ALLISON

  Allison called Felix, left a message, then texted him. An hour later he still hadn’t answered. Before, she would’ve discussed her approach with Tony. She couldn’t ask Luke for advice—he was the one from whom Felix had stolen.

  Nine-thirty p.m. She left Luke watching TV and went to her bedroom to try again. If Felix didn’t answer this time, Allison would call Tony and demand that her son speak to her. She listened to the ringing tone and was about to hang up when Felix’s voice came down the line.

  ‘Hi, Mum, what’s up? I’m at Darcy’s house, playing FIFA.’

  He sounded happy, light-hearted. Perhaps too happy. Had he used the stolen cash for booze or weed?

  ‘Which team are you?’

  ‘Chelsea.’ His reply was quick enough to back up his story. The cheers from the PlayStation game rumbled in the background.

  ‘Are you winning?’

  ‘Nah. Darcy’s beating me again.’

  She decided not to accuse him straight off; that would’ve been Tony’s method. Her way was gentler.

  ‘Listen, Felix. If you need money, you can ask me.’

  He was silent for a few seconds then said, ‘What’re you on about?’

  ‘There’s some cash missing. A hundred dollars from Luke’s wallet.’

  ‘And he reckons I took it?’

  ‘It happened on the nights you were here. Money has gone from my purse too.’

  ‘So you’re both blaming me?’

  ‘I’m trying to understand …’ She paused for a moment. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing! As if I’d steal from you. You give me money whenever I ask for it.’

  He had a point. For years, she’d tried to establish a weekly pocket money routine but then she’d invariably forget. And so, she gave him cash when he needed it. He never wanted much. Since he’d been living with Tony, he hadn’t asked her for anything, apart from the shoes.

  And Wednesday night was when Gracie had gone to hospital. In the panic, Luke could easily have forgotten that he’d spent fifty dollars somewhere. But then, money was also taken on Friday. And from her purse as well.

  ‘Please, Felix, talk to me. What’s going on?’

  ‘I am talking to you. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mum.’

  Allison didn’t know what to think. Felix sounded hurt but that could just be an act. Despite saying all the right things, her son was communicating less and less.

  ‘You know you can tell me anything, sweetheart.’

  ‘Sure. Well, I’ll tell you this. Helena has a seven-month-old baby.’

  ‘What?’ She felt like she’d been slapped. ‘Are you joking?’

  Was this why Tony had been so secretive? Because he’d fathered a child while still married to Allison? She gagged briefly as bile flooded into her mouth.

  ‘Nope. Not a joke.’ Felix gave a strange chuckle.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I have to go. Darcy’s mum is calling us.’

  The phone went dead. She stared at the screen, as if the answer were there.

  When Allison came downstairs to the lounge room, Luke lay slumped on the couch, a beer in one hand. He didn’t normally drink the night before an early class. She couldn’t tell him about the baby, couldn’t process it herself. Had Tony been cheating on her for years? The revelation had shocked her to a standstill. She couldn’t text Tony, she couldn’t phone Shona, she couldn’t discuss it with Nadia.

  She’d focus on Luke right now.

  ‘Felix denies taking the money but I’ll keep talking to him. I’m really sorry.’

  When Luke didn’t answer, she asked if he was okay.

  ‘I didn’t want to tell Gracie.’ He stared out of the window as he spoke. ‘It’s her mother’s birthday today. Sarah would’ve turned twenty-nine.’

  The same week that Allison had poisoned his daughter. What a week for him.

  ‘I’m so sorry. How did you celebrate her birthday last year?’ Allison hoped it was a good memory.

  ‘I cooked her breakfast—scrambled eggs and smoked salmon. Then Gracie and I took her outside, made her cover her eyes and we led her into the back paddock. I’d bought a new horse for her. Sarah was so surprised that she screamed like she’d been bitten by a snake. Of course, the horse bolted in fright.’ A sad smile fluttered on his lips.

  ‘What did she name it?’ Allison asked.

  ‘She let Gracie come up with a name. That was a mistake. She called him Olaf.’

  The snowman from Frozen. Allison couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘I really miss her.’ He said it so softly that she almost didn’t hear. Then he groaned and took a swig of beer. ‘But enough of my memories. Grab a wine and tell me more about Tony.’

  She guessed he wanted to be distracted. The most awkward timing, though, after Felix’s news.

  Allison poured a glass of red and began the story at the beginning of the end.

  ‘When he was young, Tony wanted to change the world but he ended up in a big corporate firm. Then, a few years ago, he had a midlife crisis. He didn’t dream of a silver convertible like most men—he wanted to do work that made a difference.’

  As a teacher, Allison had understood. Her work helped to shape minds and futures; she was happy for Tony to gain that same sense of purpose in his career.

  ‘He went part-time at the firm and started providing legal advice to women experiencing domestic violence. He works with a few different shelters and refuges across Sydney.’

  ‘You’re making him sound like a saint, Ally. So what happened?’

  At the time, Allison
had boasted to friends about her compassionate husband contributing in such a vital area. Now she glanced up at the wall above the dining table, the spot where their wedding photo had once hung. Replaced by a print of Monet waterlilies. The framed photo showing their radiant smiles was hidden in Tony’s side of the wardrobe.

  ‘He couldn’t tell me about his work—it was all confidential, obviously. But I think something happened. He got disillusioned with the whole system. I didn’t even notice. I’d finally started writing a children’s book in my spare time.’

  ‘And then?’ Luke prompted her.

  ‘Out of the blue, he said he had to leave our marriage. Change his life and make it more meaningful. He wouldn’t tell me the woman’s name. Or anything else.’

  Like the fact that she had a baby. A boy or a girl? Did it look like Tony? Did it have his nose? His eyes?

  Mere hours after singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ on New Year’s Eve, Tony had blurted out that he was in love with someone else. Allison had been unzipping her red dress, ready to climb into bed and make drunken love to celebrate the new year. What he said was so unexpected, she’d laughed. With the champagne fizzing around in her brain, it felt like some kind of strange foreplay. And then he’d collapsed into tears. Stupidly, Allison had comforted him.

  She didn’t know that he’d already signed a lease on a house near the beach. Two days later, he was gone. Her son had followed not long after. It was supposed to be for one night, but Felix only came back to collect more stuff. His soccer ball, clothes, bedding. A slow dismantling of their house, their life. The life that Tony apparently considered meaningless.

  But it all made so much more sense with a baby. How had Felix kept the secret this long?

  Allison blinked to see Luke sitting up straighter on the couch.

  ‘Listen, Ally, that’s shit. You’re doing so much for everyone else and you’re working on the fundraising for Gracie. And I know you’re cut up about what happened with the sesame oil. Let me take you out tomorrow night.’

  Luke organised for Maz and her mother to babysit Gracie, while they went to an African restaurant in Neutral Bay. Before dinner, he said they weren’t to talk about fundraising and drug treatments. Instead, he explained the dishes on the menu and described a truck trip he and Sarah had done through eastern Africa. They’d camped near the gorillas in Uganda and climbed Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. Over the lamb tagine, he brought up Tony.

  ‘You know that Tony’s a different person now,’ Luke said. ‘He’s not the man you married.’

  ‘Damn right. The man I married would never have left me like that.’

  Nor would he have lied about a baby.

  ‘So, in a way, the Tony you know has died.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  That was exactly how she felt. Her old friends were kind and comforting but all still married. Luke understood, even though his loss was a completely different set of circumstances.

  ‘It’s time for a psychological turning point. We’re going to the pub and you’re going to flirt with a man. Just think of it as a play with actors. Enjoy it. Take it all the way, if you want!’

  Allison choked on her couscous. ‘Are you kidding me? I can’t do that.’

  ‘I’ll be your wingman. You’re Maverick and I’m Goose.’

  ‘Oh God, I saw Top Gun with my very first boyfriend.’ Allison suspected it was the last time she’d flirted with a bloke other than Tony.

  ‘Just smile and be yourself, Ally. You’re gorgeous.’

  She blushed and laughed. Wished she’d worn a different outfit, styled her hair properly.

  They finished their dinner and walked up the road to the pub. When Luke opened the door, the sound of music and chatter wafted out; the sound of people having fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been here. Years ago with Tony and their friends, sitting out in the beer garden, idling away a few hours in the summer. Was Tony cheating on her then? Tonight, garlands of shamrocks hung around the walls; they were still celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day from earlier in the week.

  ‘You can have any guy you want.’ Luke waved his arms, as if offering a smorgasbord.

  Allison gazed around the pub. So many men. Some of them drunk and ludicrous in green hats and green sunglasses. Did they have wives at home who were putting the kids to bed? Or were they separated, like her? The discarded or the discardee?

  ‘No, I can’t.’

  ‘You’re thinking too much.’ Luke propelled her towards the bar. ‘It’s a game. Use a different name if you like. I’m your colleague from work.’

  As they drank wine, Allison made up an entire story—they worked together in a marketing company. Her name was Ruth and she’d divorced her husband ten years ago; she loved to go out to the theatre, pubs, film festivals. A party girl. Ruth was just back from a product launch for a coconut-based spirit in Byron. Cocktails all the way.

  When Luke returned from getting the next round, he was accompanied by a man in his late forties.

  ‘Ruth, this is Emmanuel.’

  ‘Happy Saint Patrick’s Day, Ruth,’ the man said, raising his glass and attempting an Irish accent.

  Emmanuel wore a pink-and-white-striped shirt, and no silly green hat. His jet-black hair had a slight curl, and he was taller and broader than Tony. And unlike Tony, Emmanuel was interested in everything Allison had to say. So interested that Allison started to feel guilty about the lies she was telling.

  After four drinks, she confessed. ‘I’m not Ruth. My name’s Allison and my husband left me. My friend Luke thinks I need a shag to move on.’

  Emmanuel didn’t turn away. He blinked twice and then laughed so hard that beer shot out of his mouth straight onto Allison’s dress. His look of horror sent Allison into a fit of giggles.

  Eventually, when they’d both calmed down, he said, ‘Well, you’d better come back to my place so I can clean that off.’

  Giggling again, Allison was drunk enough to accept. And excited and terrified. As they walked arm in arm to his apartment, Allison argued with herself. Go home right now. You never do anything this crazy. Apart from the stalking—that’s crazy. No, this is crazy. It could be fun, though. It’s okay—Luke knows where you are. But you’re a married woman, you made vows. Yeah, but he’s left you. And there’s a baby. The baby that Allison had always wanted.

  When Emmanuel started kissing her, she decided to go with the flow. The sex was tender and sweet and strange. And somehow, she relaxed just enough to enjoy it.

  On the way home in the Uber, she texted Luke: Maverick to Goose—mission accomplished. His reply came straight back: Victory! Your wingman is so proud. And then, giddy as a cherry-popped teenager, she typed out a message to Nadia: OMG—you’ll never guess what I’ve just done! My first-ever one-night stand!!!!!

  The next morning, the wine and the bravado were replaced by revulsion. She felt like she’d cheated on Tony. How absurd. How could she be cheating on her deceitful, disloyal, heart-breaker of a husband? How come he got to choose their new lives and she had no control? She didn’t want to shag a stranger with thick springy hair on his chest; all she wanted was her family back together.

  Luke gave her a hug, a different male touch again, and comforted her like a child.

  ‘It’s okay, Ally. Step by step. You’ll get there—you will.’

  Later, Emmanuel texted kind, funny words about ‘Ruth, the party girl’ and asked her out for dinner next week. She couldn’t decide whether to accept or not. But she actually felt lighter. Maybe she should encourage Luke to go on a date. With Maz. The young woman was so bloody perky and optimistic all the time. And so fit. And bouncy, like Tigger in Winnie-the-Pooh. She clearly liked spending time with Luke, and with Gracie. The three of them had gone to the beach this morning, while Nadia grilled Allison for details of the one-night stand. She hadn’t told her friend about the baby, though—it hurt too much. As did her hangover. She was too old for this kind of behaviour. And she didn’t have Tony whipping up his special han
gover cure—fried eggs, bacon, baked beans and tomato juice. Along with some Berocca and Panadol.

  Her body was still aching that night. Allison went to bed early, hoping she’d fall asleep quickly and wake refreshed for Monday. She had so much to organise. In a week’s time, they’d be holding ‘Gracie Day’ at school—a fundraising fete. The timeline was ridiculously short but Declan agreed they needed to act fast to kickstart the campaign. Instead of drifting off though, Allison lay awake replaying every moment of last night. And feeling a lump each time she swallowed. Her throat was sore and scratchy.

  Oh no. Allison had been the one writing emails to parents, telling them to keep their kids at home if they had an infection.

  She couldn’t get sick. Not now. Not with Gracie in the house.

  12

  FELIX

  Felix could hear them whispering in the front room. Every so often, he caught the hiss of one word snaking down the corridor to his bedroom: police. Whispering so that Felix wouldn’t hear?

  He stared at the document open on his laptop. Choose one of the main themes from Othello (jealousy, manipulation, racial prejudice, love or betrayal) and write a 600-word essay showing examples from the text. Due tomorrow. And he hadn’t written a single word. Great way to finish Sunday night. Shitty Shakespeare. Why did his class have to study an irrelevant old play? Darcy’s class was doing the movie version of Romeo and Juliet. Frickin’ lucky—they didn’t even have to read, they could just watch.

  On the group chat, the girls were discussing the best Iago quote about jealousy. One of them had typed out: It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on. Pearl sent him a DM. If you look at another chick, I’ll become a green-eyed monster! She probably wasn’t joking. Pearl wanted to spend every spare moment with him, kissing. Three months ago, Felix had never kissed a girl. The only two good things to come out of Mum and Dad’s break-up—his surfing and his kissing were improving out of sight.