Samantha Page shivered as she walked quietly between the sleeping girls in the dormitory. Moonlight lit their forms, casting pale shadows over the piles of discarded school uniforms, sports kit and school bags. The teenager thought briefly of returning to her bed, but she knew that she needed to get away, make herself a warm drink in the rec room, try and get over her excitement of turning eighteen in the morning.
She glanced at the clock on the wall - perhaps she was eighteen already? She fumbled with her glasses, the hands coming into sharp relief. Eleven forty-five. Another fifteen minutes to go!
Outside in the corridor, Samantha felt more than a little exposed. Her nightie was too short and flimsy to be wearing on a night like this. She wouldn't have worn it, but had promised her auntie. Really, she thought, it was more appropriate to a much younger girl. The cold draught in the corridor curled around her bare legs, making the pink material float up to her bare hips. Half-way there - no point in going back for leggings or a dressing gown now, she thought. Best to get it over with.
The door to the rec room was open. Samantha took a moment to adjust to the light - the last thing she wanted to do was to knock over a chair on the way to microwave. The teenager felt self-consciously clumsy: she still hadn't got used to her growing body, her long limbs, her womanly physique.
There was something odd in the girls' recreation room: a faint smoky smell. Samantha had the distinct feeling that there was someone else hiding in the room. And the doors to the garden were open!
The girl paused, mustering her courage. Should she go and find the on-duty teacher, and face the horrible prospect of not being allowed out tomorrow for being out of bed at this time? Or should she just go and close the doors...
Samantha pushed her glasses up on her nose and walked confidently across to the French windows. She leant out, grabbing the handles instinctively - and then uttered a terrible gasp. There was a man, standing in the dark, his back to the schoolgirl, smoking a cigarette. At the sound of the gasp, he whirled around, reaching out, grabbing her wrists. The man propelled Samantha back into the building with his movement, she stumbled, falling over backwards, and then groaning with his weight as he fell on top of her.
He pushed himself back up.
"Oh god, I am sorry, you scared the living wits out of me!"
Samantha immediately recognized his voice.
"Mr Fathers?"
In the moonlight, she could see the smile on his face
"Samantha?"
He sighed.
"You just caught me indulging my bad habit. I'm so sorry, imagine what people would think if they came across us like this."
The teacher slipped out from under the teenager's leg. He stood, reaching across to a low-lamp set on the coffee table.
"That's better."
He glanced down at the long-limbed gazelle-like girl, trying to get to her feet.
"You probably ought to cover yourself up a little."
He looked embarrassed.
"I was just getting a cup of cocoa."
Mr Fathers grinned.
"Sounds innocent enough to me."
He walked over to the microwave, opening cupboards, setting out mugs.
Samantha looked across to him. He was tall and darkly handsome. A real man, she thought. His tight white t-shirt showed off his musculature.
The schoolgirl struggled to find the words.
"I wanted to say, sir, how sorry we all were."
The teacher sighed.
"That's very kind of you, Samantha. It was a horrible shock to me, as you must know. And I miss my family very much."
The teacher gave the teenager her hot drink and settled down in a low chair. He blew carefully on his cocoa.
"Is there much gossip?"
Samantha wanted to give him a hug. He looked so vulnerable. She nodded her head slowly.
"Can you tell me?"
The girl sat down on the coffee table next to Mr Fathers, their knees almost touching.
"They say you came home early from a school trip, and found her with someone."
"Do they say who?"
"No."
Stephen Fathers sighed.
"That's a relief, in a way. It's all rather messy and I'd rather it didn't become public knowledge. I suppose it didn't come as that much of a shock. Sex life had gone to hell in a handcart recently."
The girl placed a hand on his leg. It felt very hard and muscly, much larger than she'd have thought.
"You must be lonely."
The teacher laughed.
"With you lot? Teaching personal and social education every day, all the hours we have..."
He caught sight of her anxious face, her fingers playing anxiously with her strawberry blonde hair.
