A May December Romance
I owe the idea for this story to three of my twitter buddies dipdipmyblueship, LoveeCarlaConnor, and TeamCarterxx who asked me to write a fic about a student teacher relationship between Corrie characters Trevor Dean and Carla Connor. In this situation the teacher is Carla and the student is Trevor. As with most of my stories this is an alternate universe as well as a period piece. Hope you all enjoy and as always thanks for reading.
He was married now, well into middle age with children of his own. And having been given a decent amount of time to look back on his past actions; Trevor Dean felt as he felt many people would; some form of guilt. His was of a small degree; small because he could not shake the effect of one particular action nor could he deny the profound impact she had had on his life. She was his secret, a secret that had shaped him in so many ways, defined him, and had opened his mind to new ways of thinking and feeling. He had never spoken about her to anyone before at least not anyone in his life right now. Carla Donovan remained a secret hidden in his heart, a memory for his mind alone.
Trevor had been a boy of seventeen away at boarding school when the enigma known as Carla Donovan first came into his life. It was the autumn of 1941 when she first came to teach at his school and where upon he first laid eyes on her. She was the new teacher for literature at Saint Andrews Catholic School for Boys. Trevor remembers not having wanted to return to school that autumn of 41 his mother had just abandoned the family and his father was left heartbroken. Trevor had second thoughts about leaving the man alone, worried that he may harm himself. It was a stressful situation and everyone that was supposed to be his friend suddenly didn't have much time anymore to listen to his problems. He had no one to talk to and felt vulnerable and all alone; basically he was depressed and in a far off world. Trevor just felt ready to lash out at the world.
He can remember the sound her heels made as though it were yesterday. The unique pattern of her steps as they clanked down the corridor hall to approaching the classroom on that first day of term. If he could have been a seer, it he could have known the profound affect this woman would have on his life; that he would have on hers in turn...Trevor often wonders, would it have stopped him from behaving as he did? Probably not, that is why the guilt he felt was only a fraction only a small degree. Trevor had loved her, he had loved her so goddamn much and never would he apologize for something that had been so real and felt so right from that very first day.
He kept his eyes on the blackboard zoned out and lost in thoughts about his father. It had just occurred to him, that now his mother left he probably wouldn't be getting the occasional care packages from home in the mail like the other boys would. It was just another thing to add to the list of why this term would be horrible and although he eyes the date on the board "September 1, 1941" he wished it were June already, or at least Christmas so he could get the hell out of here. The boys in his class are an rambunctious sort, throwing pieces of paper around and sitting on the desks having total disregard for all the school rules while they fill each other in on the summer holidays. The noise gave Trevor a headache he barely noticed as his good friends Peter Barlow and Steve MacDonald trying to talk to him. They were grumbling stuff about summer break but also trying to cheer Trevor up by badmouthing the class pretty boy Liam Connor, whom all three boys hated immensely. It worked because by time the headmaster walked into the classroom Trevor had been caught midway in a grin.
"Ahem," says the voice of Headmaster Tony Gordon his dark cold brown eyes surveying the room with contempt.
Immediately the class silences and Trevor watches as his friends Peter, Steven and all other standing boys rush to take their appropriate seats. The temperature of the room is ice cold and the tension could not be cut with a knife as everyone holds their breath waiting for the strict headmasters fury. Headmaster Gordon says nothing for a time and Trevor realizes they must be waiting on a second body, he hears the clacking of heels across the corridors, the sound intensifying as it comes closer and closer. The boy's heads sneak a glance at the door, watching anxiously with anticipation for who would be this years new victim of their tyranny. No one teacher ever survived their year. The the door handle turns and the door opens revealing a tall slender woman with jet black hair and olive skin.
Trevor is nearly speechless and his jaw drops open taking her all in. It was her eyes that captivated him. He had often heard people say that eyes were like dark hooks for the soul. Trevor had never believed it until now. But they were so alluring, so unintentionally seductive that he felt she had hooked his soul with the innocent waver of her eyes over his person. From that moment he was truly infatuated with her.
"So sorry to be so late Headmaster—" she begins to speak before the Headmaster Gordon raises his silencing her and indicating he has no patience. Her face looks wounded and hurt by so early a display of inequality and disrespect. She looks about to say something about this rudeness but thinks better of it before pursing her lips closed and taking her position next to headmaster and scanning her eyes straight ahead.
It is a time before headmaster Gordon finally opens his mouth to speak. His brown eyes bulging at all his pupils in disdain and mistrust. He always wore an expression as though he had just tasted something bitter and unpleasant.
Addressing the class he says, "Your indiscretions however amusing they may have been last term resulted the termination of yet another literature teacher. Poor Mrs. Pennyworth endured quite a lot from you bunch! Before her it was Mr. Wakefield, before him Mr. Olivier. You boys are a nasty piece of work! I thought a woman's touch would soften you but it seems you all just like your little antics but make no mistake, this year is going to be different. It had better be different or else I may start making recommendations to the armed forces. Most of you are seventeen soon to be eighteen and therefore old enough to enlist You brats should be sent to the Western Front, fight some Nazis and then see who has the nerve to throw water balloons on Mrs. Pennyworth, feed her dogs laxatives, and flush her poor goldfish down the toilet! That's not even the half it either... the work ethic, you all lack general work ethic or any real motivation to turn yourselves into contributing members of society. Remind me why your parent's pay for your school again?"
"Well I don't know," comes the drawling and smug voice of Liam Connor in the background, "Maybe because we're rich and we're entitled to it. Because we are the future regardless of what you say."
Trevor glances back at the pretty boy know it all that always thought he was so sharp. Liam sat with his posse of fellow pretty boys brothers Jamie and Warren Baldwin. They sure seemed to think he was a laugh; in fact the majority of the class seemed to thrive off of looking for reasons to appease Liam. His other friend Dean and cousin Tom gave his approving pats on the back egging his behavior and making his face even smugger.
"That's quite enough attitude out of you Mr. Connor. I don't suppose you'd like the stick? Or perhaps some lines? It is not exactly the best way to start a new school year, now is it?"
Liam doesn't say anything, his lips were in a permanent smirk which made his handsome features almost haughty.
"This year is going to be different boys. This year you will actually complete all your course work at the level I deem satisfactory. No more passing just because your parents throw money at this institution! I will not have any tongue or cheek," says Headmaster Gordon his voice is chilling to bone as he lets the message sink in, "Anyone caught disobeying curfew, sneaking off with girls, or keeping their rooms in the most untidy of manners will face risk of expulsion. There will be no second chances in light of previous incidences with past teachers. If you give this young lady here any trouble," he inclines his head to the beautiful teacher, "I will pack your bags myself! And church in the chapel every morning will from now on be mandatory. I think you boys need reminding of your christian virtues."
"I hope you don't expect us to wake up for that?!" says Peter Barlow indignantly, "Church is at 7 am!"
"Perhaps you rather wake up and do a couple of laps down near the school lake then Mr. Barlow," sneers Headmaster Gordon, "I mean perhaps it will be of better use of time for you...since you seem to indicate I am wasting your time. It will help you wake up maybe—"
"Sir—"
"Nope," says Headmaster Gordon cutting Peter off, "5 am first thing tomorrow the whole class shall wake up for a jog before mass. A week of it shall put you straight."
"Thanks a bunch Barlow," Liam heckles, "Maybe you ought to shut your mouth next time."
"MR. CONNOR! One more word out of you and I swear I will get a driver to send you back from whence you came! And since you used such foul language the class can thank you for a months worth of 5 am jogs!"
Before Liam, Peter or any of the boys could respond there was the sound of a loud tapping. Trevor looked over at the beautiful woman he had almost forgotten she was the room having been listening to the headmaster's torturous speeches and getting angry over the stupid jogs and required masses. She had tapped her shoe on the floor impatiently to get the headmasters attention. She looked rather annoyed at not having the opportunity to take control of her class much less introduce herself. The Headmaster seemed to realize this fact too as he quickly finished up with the last of his threats and proceeded to introduce the woman to the class. It was a brief introductory and more than obvious not one of her liking as she took the liberty to reintroduce herself once the headmaster shut his mouth.
"I can take it from here Headmaster Gordon. I'm perfectly capable, thank you very much."
Her voice was curt, short and sweet. Trevor admired her assertiveness and fiery nature as she stared the headmaster down until he got the clue that he wasn't wanted anymore and could leave the room. Trevor was trying not to laugh as Headmaster Gordon's eyes gave one last bulge leaving the class involuntarily. He had a feeling no one had ever told that man his opinion wasn't needed anymore, or perhaps never in so many few words. The class was on the verge of celebrating her as their hero before she stared at them all with more authority than the headmaster ever did. She was no dowdy Mrs. Pennyworth, the message was clear that they better not cross her
"First things first," she says strolling over to the black board elegantly and picking up a piece of chalk, "My name is Miss. Donovan," she began to spell out her name and the sound her delicate hands made against the chalk board was almost hypnotizing.
Trevor was in a trance watching this beauty called Miss. Donovan, the whole class was. They had never had a teacher so young looking and so attractive.
"Don't you mean 'Queen Bitch', " says Liam Connor taking advantage of the momentary silence.
Trevor and Peter exchanged looks letting out a gasp at Liam's rudeness. Trevor felt his body almost ripping with the need to defend her; this woman he knew nothing about. It was strange but he felt so protective over her, it was clear he was developing a quick crush. But she seemed to hold her own very well, turning around slowly and staring the pretty boy up and down.
"Oh Mr. Connor," she says disdainfully, "What would the day be without one of your signature snide remarks. To think what your brother will say, when he learns you have disrespected his fiancée on her first day of term. I think it will be the bar of soap again."
The whole class started whispering at this reveal. The hot attractive teacher was going to be the class jerks sister in law. It was shocking to say the least and Trevor watched in pride as the smug look slowly crept from Liam's face only to be replaced with fear and embarrassment at what his brother may do to him. It was Miss. Donovan now who was smirking as she turned back to the board and continued talking about her educational experience and credentials.
Trevor was captivated, hanging onto to her every word, appreciating the loveliness of her delicate voice and how it seemed to go up an octave whenever she exhausted it by straining herself and talking too long. He felt a bit crescent fallen, that she was engaged and even more so with the fact that it was apparently Liam's older brother that held her heart. Trevor only assumed Liam's brother must be an annoying older version of the smug and pompous pretty boy. If it was looks they were going on, Trevor definitely felt he was built more like a man and he could handle a whole lot of woman unlike that bloke who was apparently her future husband.
His mind went through various thoughts thinking, why the hell did the good ones always have to be taken? He couldn't tell if she was a good girl per say, but she sure looked like she at least tasted good. And from the way her hips moved and her bum wiggled from side to side, Trevor knew she was no girl but all women. If this class were about memorizing every inch of her impeccable body he would pass with flying colors.
"Let's get right into the lesson class! Books out please. I will learn names as I go around asking questions. So this means you better do your homework daily. Now the first lesson will be on Lord Byron. I hope you lot know who he is..."
She warmed up his body like a fireball and he couldn't help himself focusing on the way her dress clung to her skin, the pattern of it. He admired her green cardigan, fantasizing about how it felt brushed up against her olive skin. Never before in his life did he wish to be a piece of clothing like he did in that moment. Already he felt his thoughts taking him further and further away from reality and into a daydream; the very nature of them, so intense if not a violation of some sort as she turns to face the class again talking on and on about the days lesson. Trevor briefly glances at the other boys in his class already a bit afraid or apprehensive about whether to push her; they are all scribbling away retaining her knowledge and information. He felt it was impossible to concentrate, impossible not to look at her and not already imagine what she may look like with all her clothes off. He was very curious about her, very curious indeed. From that first day Trevor knew what he wanted…those breasts, thighs, the list went on and on, he wanted her all to himself. He felt no shame in these thoughts and he felt no guilt. Trevor knew what he desired and that his feelings were real…
It would be a lie to say she wasn't in his thoughts anymore that he didn't think about her at least once a week still even to this day. But as time went on, and the years in which these events occurred began to seem a distant memory he had learned to move on; to start over from a broken heart and accept the circumstances in which she choose to detach herself from him his life. Trevor had thought it would be impossible to remove traces of Carla Donovan from his world, he thought he would never recover. But somehow he had; partially at least. After all the darkness he came out the tunnel and faced life like everyone else was at the time just trying to get over the war. His suffering seemed so minuscule compared to others. But something bothered Trevor sometimes; sometimes he wonder if she ever understood or would even bother acknowledge the profound affect she had had on his life. He was now forty six years old, had two beautiful children and a loving wife Michaela.
On the outside it looked like he was like everyone else, like he thought the same, had the same feelings. But Trevor knew everything was different for him, that there were some things he could never tell the people close to him now, whether it was out of fear of being judged or because it was all too painful; he knew that the main reason he never told anyone about Carla were for reasons of the heart. The heart, a place of many secrets, a place where time often seemed to stand still. He felt this… that the things which impact a person the most, the things that really get at the core of who they are as a human being are things, which one chooses to keep protected, the things which are kept close. He reasoned that it couldn't have meant so much if one chose so willingly to share it with the world, with every human soul they encountered.
He sighs looking at the clock in his kitchen where he now sits. His wife was at the groceries and his son and daughter out with friends. He was holding a letter, he had been holding it at afternoon contemplating what the hell to do. Trevor was in a predicament afraid to open it, afraid of what he will read, afraid that he may soon have no choice but to share his every precious secret not just with his family but also with every soul in the world.
Apparently his old teacher and lover Carla Donovan was dying and for some reason she thought it'd be a good idea after all these years of no contact, not so much as a letter or a phone call; she thought it a good idea to tell Trevor she has made him the executor of her last will and testament. And the answer was clear to him then; she did not understand the profound affect she had had on his life... how he would feel to receive this letter after twenty nine years of no contact just simply stating her situation and health as facts, like facts mean anything without some human feeling behind them. Trevor was rocked, rocked with the realization that he may very well lose her, this woman he had loved for so long. But what was she losing? What was her soul affected with, inflicted with? Was this an olive branch, a sorry? Was this the best acknowledgement she could muster? It wasn't enough.
He hears the sound of the front door opening and his wife calling throughout the house for help with the groceries. And Trevor realizes he had been too busy thinking about Carla he hadn't even considered what he was going to tell his wife.