A/N: I'd only just finished my other Kandrew fic before the inspiration for this one hit. :) I was sat watching episode 20 again, and I fell in love with the way that Kim kept glancing at the clock to check the time. I really did think that was quite a beautiful thing. Dunno why. I'm strange like that. So, the inspiration for this fic actually came from those two scenes, and I thought I'd try my hand at turning it into a longer process, drawn out through the events of episode 20. It's not great, I know, but I've done my best.
Initially, this was supposed to be part of my short Kandrew fics collection which I've started to assemble, as it was based on one of the words that I was using, but I think it works better as a stand alone fic, as it's much longer than the rest of the other oneshots I've written combined.
For the sake of one scene in this fanfic, just pretend that the Kandrew bed scene happened before the broadcasting of the choir on the TV. It'll make more sense later on. :) Also, I can guarantee that the speech from the Kandrew bed scene is pretty much accurate (yes, I'm sad enough to know it by heart), but as for the rest of it (Rachel speaking to Kim, Rachel's speech at the end) I don't have a clue about. So please, just take that as it is. :) Oh, and another thing, I've completely buggered up Andrew's visiting days. He was meant to stay for three, right? Well, I've accidently made him stay for four. Shh. Just don't count the episode 19 day as one. xD Use Saturday, Sunday and Monday instead. xP
Title came to me when I was listening to my Celine Dion, My Love, Essential Collection album (yes, I'm a Dion fan! :3) Track 18, Disc One.
Once more, this is for TRR and any other Kandrew lovers who fancy having a read. :3
Disclaimer: Still don't own. Never will own.
There Comes A Time: The Crossroads
It was twenty to twelve. The duvet was tangled around them, rumpled from their hours of passion. Kim lay with her head on Andrew's chest, staring into the darkness. She could feel his warm hands on her back, his fingers massaging the taut knots in her shoulders. Next he leant down to kiss the top of her head. She felt his heartbeat quicken beneath her ear.
"Kim," he breathed, as she lifted her head and found his mouth. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she concentrated on him. His breathing. His body. His touch. She allowed him to push her back into the warmth of the duvet, wrapped her arms around his neck. For a moment they gazed into each other's eyes. Then they were kissing again.
She only had a few more hours left with him, she realised with a jolt as Andrew urgently nipped at her earlobe.
She had to make every second count.
It was twenty to seven. Somewhere in her dream world, Kim heard the shrill chirping of the alarm clock. Blearily she opened her eyes and felt woozily for the snooze button.
And then it hit her. It was Tuesday.
Andrew was leaving.
Suddenly she found herself wishing feverishly that she could turn back time to relive the last three days.
She wanted him to stay. It was as simple as that. Despite her apprehension over the court case, and the sadness she felt when she thought of Grace, Andrew had a knack for making her day brighter, something she had come to appreciate over the course of his stay. Last time, it had been her choice to leave him. This time, it was his.
This time, she wasn't sure she'd cope without him.
"What time is it?" Andrew murmured sleepily beside her, pulling her closer as he snuggled his head further into the pillow.
Kim squinted at the luminous digits of the clock and groaned. "Time for me to get up."
"Can't you take the morning off?" Andrew mumbled, kissing the nape of her neck, his fingertips tracing lazy patterns on her bare skin.
"You know I can't," Kim managed through a sigh. "Besides, that's breaking the rules. You of all people shouldn't be encouraging me to pull a sickie."
"It's for a good cause."
Kim felt her resolve wavering, so much to the protest of her legs she forced herself to get out of bed. "I called in sick yesterday," she reminded him as she picked up her dressing gown from the chair in the corner. "I can't very well do it again today."
"It's a very bad bug then," Andrew shrugged. "I know you want to."
Kim rolled her eyes as she threw a pile of clothes together – a rather crumpled outfit for the school choir trip. It would do, she supposed. She hadn't had much time to do the ironing. Hell, she hadn't had much time to do much at all.
Surprisingly, Rachel had been very sympathetic when she'd heard about the 'bug' which Kim had inconveniently and definitely not coincidently caught. How much of the story Rachel actually believed was debatable however; it is very hard to tell a convincing lie when you have a man sat behind you nuzzling your neck in a way that makes it hard to concentrate. Honestly.
"What time does the choir trip finish?" he asked her, stretching.
"Quarter to four. Look, I'm going for a shower," Kim said softly, bending in to give Andrew a lingering kiss on the lips.
That arrogant, self-confident grin was on his face. "Want me to wash your back?"
"Don't push it," she told him smartly. "Go back to sleep. You don't have to get up yet, you lucky sod."
She could feel his gaze smouldering her back as she crossed the landing to the bathroom. A cold shower was what she needed.
Shivering, Kim stepped underneath the freezing jets of water. She closed her eyes as it cascaded down upon her.
Today. That was it. The day she had secretly been dreading had arrived. Their few days of passion were over. He was leaving her today. She would never get to wake up beside him again, would never feel his touch. They had been living dangerously on bought time, she knew that, but it did not make the hollow pain in her chest lessen. Deep down, she knew they wouldn't see each other for a very long time – if at all.
God, she really did not want to think about it.
It frightened her that Andrew had so much power over her. He'd only been back in England a few days and already she was dreading life without him. Before, when she'd left him, she'd had Grace to keep her company. After his departure from England, she'd have no one.
Not something she wished to dwell on.
Switching the shower off, Kim stepped out and towelled herself dry. She stared at herself critically in the mirror as she dressed. She looked tired. Bloody Andrew's fault. Never mind the fact that sleep had been the last thing on her mind too. Once she'd brushed her hair (and cursed it for the millionth time for being so frustratingly frizzy) she felt a lot better.
Breakfast was next on the agenda, and Kim bustled around the small kitchen, setting up the coffee machine and humming to herself as she waited for the bread to grill.
Until her eyes fell on the mess at the table.
Last night, the two of them had shared a takeaway (pizza – they both loved Italian) and they'd talked and laughed the evening away. Then they'd retired to the bedroom and had proceeded to make love the entire night. The last evening together.
Suddenly, Kim wasn't very hungry.
It was twenty to eight. Slowly, she loaded the plates into the dishwasher and made her way back upstairs to the bedroom. At a glance, she realised that Andrew had drifted back off to sleep, and she went about finishing getting dressed as quietly as possible. As she was pulling on her shoe boots, she felt something on her back. Startled, she turned around to find Andrew staring at her.
"I thought you'd gone back to sleep," she said softly.
He said nothing, just pulled her in for a kiss.
"I can't," she tried to say firmly; her hands betrayed her as they snaked up to cup his stubbled cheeks. His hands gripped her waist. "I can't." With every ounce of willpower, she pulled away. "I'm gonna be late."
Andrew sat up and rested his hand on the base of her neck, edging his mouth closer to hers. "Five minutes. Doesn't really compare to three days." He kissed her delicately, barely brushing his lips against hers.
"I know," Kim said, a smile gracing her face as she gazed into his eyes, "Why don't I phone the airline up, eh? See if I can get them to change your flight again."
He pulled back slightly. "I have to go back today. If I don't, I'll never leave."
"I know." It burst from her before she could stop it, and she felt stunned. Secretly she'd been feeling like it for days. She'd even taken the drastic steps of phoning the airline at every opportunity to see if she could get Andrew's flight pushed back. So far she'd been successful, managing to cancel it until today. Persuading Andrew had also been an easy feat; he'd wanted to spend as much time as he possibly could with her before the inevitable flight back.
They couldn't continue this way for ever.
They stared into each other's eyes, unwilling to break contact. Kim could feel herself falling into those dark pools, and with a huge effort pulled away.
"Hey, to be honest, I was getting a little bit sick of you," she tried to keep her tone light as she got off the bed and walked around to her set of drawers.
"Were you?" Andrew asked, propping himself up and resting his arms behind his head.
Kim fastened the necklace she'd chosen. "Yeah, you know, all this sex, romance…" she glanced at him. "It's all a bit much, don't you think?"
"Yeah, to be perfectly honest I can't wait to get back to the mosquito bites and digging latrines," he smiled at her.
"Yeah, sounds wonderful," she picked up her black cardigan from the trunk at the foot of the bed.
"You could still come with me."
The words hung in the air between them. It wasn't a notion that Kim hadn't considered. But no. She wouldn't be going back to Rwanda. She'd already given up everything last time. She couldn't do it again. Not when her life was getting back to something that resembled normality. However much it hurt, Kim couldn't put herself through the dread of Rwanda again. Andrew was strong enough to cope with the horrors out there. She was not.
"Do you know what," she tried to joke, "I might just take my chances with the sixth form leavers' do instead." She crossed the room back to her bedside cabinet and scooped something up. "Oh, don't forget to post the keys through the letterbox when you're done."
"Will do."
She looked at her hands as she asked, "What time's the…?"
Her voice trailed off, but Andrew quickly overrode. "Midday."
"Right," Kim was unable to stop the expression of sadness from washing over her face, then she turned away, unable to look at him a second longer lest she burst into tears. "I best go."
"Kim," the whisper came as he grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards him. For a moment they stared into each other's eyes, before their mouths meshed together and they were kissing each other with a mutual desperation. How could those three days have passed so quickly? How could be leaving again? It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.
It was life.
His gentle touch to the side of her face snapped her out of the opaque cloud of despondency which clung to her like a curse, and she forced herself to break the kiss. They gazed into each other's eyes again; she could read all the broken promises of a life that might have been there, and she was compelled to look away. The longer she stayed, the harder it got to leave. So she kissed him softly one more time before standing up and departing.
It was a kiss goodbye.
She did not look back.
Once on the other side of the closed bedroom door, she took a moment to compose herself. That was it. That was the last time she'd see him.
With legs that felt dead and leaden, she made her way down the landing to the top of the stairs.
It was for the best, she told herself, it was for the best. She really would soon be fed up of him if he hung around. He'd aided the Home Office. She should be angry at him, really. He was part of the reason why she no longer had Grace. He'd just been some much needed therapeutic sex. Nothing more.
Even to her own ears, her excuses sounded hollow.
Only four hours to go.
It was twenty to nine. Kim sat staring at the piece of work she'd been marking for the past twenty minutes and sighed, running a hand distractedly through her curly locks. It was no good. She'd never be able to concentrate. Andrew…
What was he doing now?
Her thoughts were interrupted as a chirpy Steph breezed into her Pastoral Care office.
"How do I look?" she exclaimed, doing a little twirl for Kim's benefit as she glanced up. "Trés chic, non?" At Kim's blank look, she sighed dramatically and explained, "We're going live on the BBC in a few minutes. I want to look my best."
"You look great," Kim said non-committally, tapping her pen on the paper as she waited for her usual enthusiasm to return. God, she was getting a headache.
Steph seemed to notice her bad mood, and perched on the edge of the desk.
"What's wrong?" she asked sympathetically. "Is it something to do with the Rwandan Heartthrob?"
"No!" Kim said at once, defences up. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
Steph shrugged casually. "I don't know. Maybe it's to do with the fact that Andrew's leaving, and deep down you know you're not ready to lose him again. Your face is also a bit of a giveaway," she added as an afterthought.
"How do you know he's leaving?"
"Miss Haydock knows all," Steph said as though it was the most renowned fact of all.
Kim sighed, massaging her temples. "Yeah, alright, you're spot on. Andrew's going today, and I don't really want him to."
"Have you told him?"
She shook her head miserably. "He doesn't want to stay. He's ready to return to Rwanda."
"What, he actually said that?"
"Well, not in those exact words," Kim admitted. "But I can see the longing in his eyes whenever I look at him."
"Are you sure that it isn't just longing for you?" Steph questioned as Kim blushed uncontrollably. "I've seen plenty of those looks in my time – all directed at me, naturellment – and if they aren't the looks of a lovelorn man, I don't know what are."
"Let's leave it, yeah?" Kim said dully, picking the essay back up and pretending to focus on the messy scrawl. "Whatever those looks are, it doesn't change the fact he's leaving today, and right now that's the last thing I need to be worrying about."
Speaking as though she could just put it out of her mind. Who did she think she was?
Steph was about to open her mouth to retort when Matt poked his head around the door, almost green with nerves.
"Steph, the BBC crew is ready now," he said, his voice shaking slightly.
"My cue then!" the French teacher beamed, patting her hair surreptitiously. "Wish me luck, Kim!" Without waiting for a reply, she flounced out of the room, dragging Matt with her.
Alone with her thoughts once more, Kim found her gaze drifting to the clock on the wall.
Nine.
Only three hours to go.
It was twenty to ten. Kim had given up trying to control the excited children, and just stood watching them from the back of the classroom.
"Oi, you lot! Pipe down!" Tom roared despairingly, running a hand through his short hair, flustered. He cast a glance in her direction, and made to come over. Panic surged through Kim. She'd already been forced to discuss Andrew's decision with him, and she couldn't face going through it again. Tom was a lovely bloke, but right now he needed to know when to butt out. Kim didn't want her private life being picked over by anyone. It was her business, no one else's. She didn't want sympathy. She didn't want the well meant, "Are you alright?"s that had followed her around all morning. She just wanted to be left alone.
Mustering a strained smile, she shook her head, and gestured to the door. She needed to get out. Just for five minutes. She was starting to feel slightly claustrophobic. Tom nodded understandingly, and with relief Kim stepped out of the door.
Once in the corridor, she pulled out her mobile. With shaking fingers, she scrolled her contacts, found his name.
She needed to hear his voice. Just one more time.
There was nothing but static on the other end. Then…
"Hi, this is Andrew. I'm probably in a meeting…"
"…Or he's out with me, so-"
Heart pounding, she pressed the reject button. Tears threatened to break free of their prison. Harshly, she brushed away the ones which fell, tried to steady her breath. She couldn't break down. Not now.
The memory of that message tested her resolve. She'd been with Andrew the day he'd recorded it, lying together on the sofa in their Rwandan house.
"We've started a new life together," he'd told her in awe. "I want everything to be perfect for us."
"It will be," she'd promised, kissing him.
And it had been, for a short time. There had been the thrilling new experience of discovering each other's bodies for the first time, the forbidden trysts in the crumbling storeroom, the scorching looks which conveyed so much. To be truthful, everything had been perfect until Kim had met Grace, but that was something she didn't want to bring up again.
The recorded phone message was meant to be symbolic, showing that they were going to be together no matter what. It was a surprise that he'd still kept it; in the last confrontation before she'd fled back to England, they had exchanged some pretty harsh words.
Stowing her phone away, Kim turned to stare through the classroom window. She caught Tom's eye, who raised a quizzical eyebrow, but she shook her head. No more talking.
The bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson.
Ten.
Only two hours to go.
It was twenty to eleven.
Andrew stood outside Kim's house, waiting for his taxi. The taxi service was upholding its tradition of being fashionably late; he'd booked one for twenty minutes earlier, and it still hadn't arrived.
The last few days he'd spent in England had been incredible. If someone had told him before he'd be spending practically every moment of his visit in Kim Campbell's bed, Andrew would've laughed it off and said that he was more likely to spend it at loggerheads with the aforementioned woman.
For the first time in his life, Andrew Treneman was glad he'd been wrong.
He'd thought about leaving a note for her. A simple letter of apology, or one expressing his feelings for her. Anything. Yet he hadn't done it; he'd been incapable of leaving something that would bring Kim pain to read. He'd read the silent pleas in her eyes that morning. While he couldn't stay, he was adamant that he wouldn't hurt her any more than he had done already.
If he could have it his way, Andrew would stay with Kim now and forever. His visit had been brief, but seeing her again had been like a punch to the gut; spending time with her had all but sealed the deal. He'd been unable to keep his hands off her all weekend. It frightened him that she could make him dread life without her, despite having spent so little time together. Any feelings he thought he had squashed had come bubbling back to the surface when he'd clapped eyes on her again.
He'd miss her. He really would.
Something hooted, and startled, he spied the taxi parked at the end of the road. It was time to go.
Andrew crossed the road with his bags and shoved them on the floor of the car. He chanced one last glance at the house before getting in himself.
"Manchester airport please," he stated and the driver nodded silently before pulling off. In no mood to make conversation either, Andrew took the liberty of staring out the window undisturbed. Kim's house shrank slowly, until it was a solitary speck on the horizon; it only served to heighten his own sense of loneliness. For the want of something to take his mind off what he was leaving behind, he glanced down at his watch. A sick feeling spread through his stomach.
Eleven.
Only one hour to go.
It was twenty to twelve. As she made her way down the steps of Waterloo Road to the coach, Kim felt like throwing up. Twenty minutes. Then he'd be gone.
She pulled herself onto the coach and sat next to the window, focusing on nothing in particular. Kids were chanting, shoving each other as they made their way down the aisle, generally being their normal rowdy selves.
"Settle down everyone!" Rachel shouted commandingly over the ruckus as she clambered onto the bus. "We're setting off now!"
This was met by jeers and catcalls, followed by the trademark, "Waterloo Road! Waterloo Road!"
"I don't know what I'm going to do with these kids," the head teacher sighed as she sat herself down next to Kim.
"Chuck them off the bus when we get out of town and hope they never find their way back, that's what I'd do," muttered Grantly as he collapsed into his seat.
"They're just excited," Kim mumbled, feigning casualness as she checked the time.
"So, you've recovered from that bug I see. Glad to hear it. We missed your expertise yesterday," there was a mischievous twinkle in Rachel's eye as she said this.
"What?"
"You know, the bug you were off with on Monday. Sounded pretty nasty on the phone."
"Oh, right. The bug. Yeah, I guess it was pretty bad."
"Is everything OK?" Rachel finally noticed the sadness written across the Art teacher's face.
"Everything's fine," Kim forced a smile. "I just get a little travel sick, is all. Do you mind if we just sit quietly for a bit? I don't want to be bringing my breakfast back up."
"Of course, Kim. My apologies."
The rest of the journey was spent in silence, but Rachel seemed quite content listening to Grantly and Jasmine's constant bickering, which gave Kim plenty of time to wallow in her thoughts. They reached the centre of Manchester surprisingly quickly, and the children were herded onto the street like sheep. The choir went on ahead with Matt, Steph and Rachel, leaving a grouchy Grantly, Jasmine and Kim to lead the rest of the rowdy spectators indoors.
The church clock began to chime, and Kim glanced up.
Her heart sank.
Twelve.
He was gone.
He loitered outside the airport, watching the seconds on the clock turn into minutes.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave her behind.
Eleven fifty-nine.
The entire journey to the airport had been spent thinking about Kim. The way she'd looked lying peacefully in his arms. The way she'd whispered his name in the blanket of night. The way she'd kissed him goodbye, the hope dying in her eyes.
There were two options. Two paths. He could only tread one.
He was at the crossroads.
Now his decision had to be made.
He couldn't put her through any more disappointment. He had to find her. To let her know his choice. She'd be on the choir trip; that's where he'd go too.
Twelve.
A sudden weight was lifted from his heart, and he turned purposefully back to the taxi pool. Spotting the taxi which had brought him here, he wrenched open the door.
"I've changed my mind," he said.
"Great," the driver rolled his eyes and turned the engine on. "Where to now then?"
"Manchester Music Hall. How fast can you get there?"
The man chewed his gum thoughtfully. "Dunno. It's on the other side of Manchester. An hour, minimum."
He'd be there in plenty of time before the end of the show.
It was five past twelve.
And he was staying.
It was twenty to one. Andrew had been in the air for almost an hour now. Kim tried to concentrate on the choirs, but it was proving difficult. Her mind was constantly wandering back to him. The way they'd spent the weekend. The way he'd kissed her that morning. The way he'd said she could go with him.
Was he thinking of her too?
Whatever he was doing, it didn't matter. He was gone.
The crowd was going wild for Forest Mount, and Kim had to admit that they were sensational. She could hear Bolton and Paul dutifully booing a row down, but they were drowned out by the rest. As the last few notes died, the music teacher turned round and flashed an arrogant smile. He knew how well his school had performed too.
Waterloo Road was the last school on the list. It was going to be a long wait until then.
It was quarter to one and Andrew was forty-five minutes out of her life.
It was one and they were stuck in traffic. Just great. Nervously, Andrew glanced at his watch. He had plenty of time to get there in, but he couldn't help willing the taxi to just move. What if by some major disaster he actually missed her? He wouldn't be able to bear that. Yes, he'd be able to go round to her house, but he wanted to surprise her [I]now[/I]. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and kiss her. He'd only been away from her for five hours and already he was craving her touch.
"How far away are we?" Andrew leant forward so the driver could hear him.
"About half an hour away," he answered. "I wasn't expecting to hit this much traffic."
"That's OK. There's no rush."
"So why did you change your mind at the airport?"
"I had some…I couldn't leave."
"Ah," the driver nodded knowingly. "Girl trouble. Know the feeling, mate."
"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it 'girl trouble'."
"Whatever keeps you happy, man."
Andrew resisted the urge to roll his eyes and returned to staring out the window.
It was twenty to two and it was finally the turn of Waterloo Road. Kim clapped along with the rest of the crowd, a feeling of pride welling up inside of her despite her unhappy mood. She listened intently to Rachel's speech. Every word rang true.
Then they began to sing. The start was slightly shaky, but the crowd cheered them on, and their confidence grew. They were immense.
"Kim, I've got to go," Rachel said breathlessly as she suddenly appeared at Kim's side.
"What?" Kim was confused. "But you're gonna miss the results!"
"I know," Rachel said distractedly. "But I've really got to go. Let me know how it ends."
She was gone before Kim could reply.
It was a quarter to two and already Kim's life was returning to how it used to be. There was only one problem with that.
She didn't want it like that anymore.
It was quarter to two, and Andrew had finally arrived at his destination.
"Keep the change," he told the taxi driver as he hauled his luggage from the car.
"Hey, hold that cab!" shouted a vaguely familiar voice, and Andrew glanced up to find Rachel Mason racing towards him.
"Andrew!" she exclaimed once she'd recognised him. "What are you doing here!"
"I'm looking for Kim, but where are you-"
"There's no time to explain where I'm going," she said impatiently as she shoved her handbag inside the vehicle. "If you're looking for Kim, she's in the third hall to the left as you go in. Now, if you'd excuse me…"
Andrew could only stare dumbfounded as the taxi pulled off from the curb with the screeching of wheels. He stood rooted to the spot for a few moments before mounting the steps to the building and disappearing inside.
"May I be of service?" asked the smiling clerk at the front desk, bemusedly noting the travelling bags, but Andrew shook his head politely.
"Thank you, but I know where I'm going. I'm here to see the choir competition."
"You're a little late," the woman said doubtfully. "It's almost over."
"I know. I'm only interested in the Waterloo Road choir though."
"Fair enough. This way, sir," she gestured to the left and Andrew hurried down the corridor. He pushed open the door to the third hall and peered inside. Waterloo Road's choir was still on stage. Good. He was on time. More slowly now, Andrew descended the stairs, searching for the one woman he needed to see.
There she was. Near the aisle. He came to her row, and gently pushed a student out of the seat on the end. She muttered something inappropriate under her breath, realised who had materialised, and quickly headed down to find another seat, red in the face.
Kim hadn't noticed him yet.
The song finally finished, and the Waterloo Road school erupted with screams and cheers. Andrew clapped as loudly as he could, silently willing her to look round.
She did.
Her eyes widened in shock and she stared at him wordlessly.
A broad grin spread across his face as he shouted, "Just couldn't do it," over the din.
She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. The beautiful smile which took over her features said it all.
Andrew knew in that instance that he had made the right choice.
Eventually the noise died down, and a short break was called before the all important results were publicised. Together, Kim and Andrew took their seats.
"I thought you were in the air," Kim said above the dim hubbub.
"I almost was," Andrew admitted. "But I got to the airport and just couldn't go inside. I kept thinking about you. About us. I couldn't leave you. I know you don't like admitting it, but you didn't want me to go either, did you?"
"No," she said simply, honestly. "I didn't." Slowly, her hand crept into his and she looked at him with such a warm glow in her eyes that Andrew thought his heart would burst.
"Thank you," she whispered. "You and me…this time we're gonna make it work."
"I think you mean 'you and I'," Andrew quipped jokingly. "And yes, this time will be different."
They said no more as the woman leading the competition appeared back on stage, the choirs at her heel. The students obediently assembled themselves beside their school placards, waiting quietly to hear the results. She talked for a few moments, then began announcing the finishing order. Polite claps and cheers rang through the hall for the schools finishing in the top flight, but there was only one spot they wished to hear about. Third place, second place…
"…This year's Choir of the Year…"
Kim's grip on Andrew's hand tightened, and he squeezed her fingers reassuringly.
"…Is Waterloo Road!"
The entire crowd erupted like a volcano. Kim leapt to her feet, yelling and screaming with the best of the kids. Andrew grinned as he stood too, clapping in a more dignified manner as the mantra, "Who are ya, who are ya, who are ya?" echoed round the room.
On stage, the choir had taken over; Matt was on his knees, being pulled into a joyous hug with Steph, the coveted cup swinging precariously in young Denzil Kelly's arms as everyone clamoured for a feel of it.
Kim turned to look at Andrew, smiling madly. The whole world seemed to come to a halt as they leaned in towards each other. Then they were kissing, mouths exploring, arms wrapped tightly around each other. The noise of the gathering became a surreal racket as they closed their eyes.
This is what love feels like Kim thought, dazed, as Andrew's grip on her waist tightened.
Nothing could keep them apart now.
Nothing.
"Hey, Miss, get a room man!" Bolton Smilie shouted, turning round and noticing them in their passionate embrace. "It's sick, innit?" he added to Paul.
"Definitely," Paul agreed, as the two teachers broke apart, breathless and smiling. "Seeing two old people snogging is gonna turn me blind; it must be against Children's Rights!"
"Enough, you two!" Kim said severely; the beam on her face contradicted her stern tone. "We are certainly not old!"
Bolton and Paul merely rolled their eyes and went back to cheering.
It was another five minutes before any sort of order could be restored, and it was with apprehension that the staff of the Manchester Music Hall unleashed the victorious Waterloo Road school onto the unsuspecting world. The students spilled out onto the streets in a triumphant mass, laughing and singing. They pushed their way onto the coaches, sustaining half-hearted words of reproval from their teachers for their boisterous conduct. In truth, everyone was overjoyed.
Kim settled herself into her seat. She had not been this happy in days. Weeks. Andrew's surprising change of mind had succeeded in keeping the grin plastered across her face. He'd given up everything for her; she still couldn't quite believe it.
As the coach began to move back onto the road, Andrew took his place beside Kim. The students were singing again, a chronic, ear-splitting noise that did not help cement them as Choir of the Year. Andrew casually slid his arm behind Kim, resting his hand on her hip. In turn, she leaned against his shoulder. She didn't care who was watching. They could say what they liked. Against all odds Andrew had not let her down, and that was all that mattered.
"Andrew?" she began. "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course you can, Kim. You can tell me anything. What is it?"
The intensity of his dark gaze seared her skin, the raw feelings of affection displayed openly there for anyone to see; she did not doubt he would see any less in her eyes.
The feelings she had for him had been lying dormant inside her for months, and had been fighting valiantly for recognition for the last few days. Terrified that he would leave her even if he knew, Kim had determinedly pushed them as deep down within her as possible.
Now was the time to let them out.
Leaning in, she whispered heatedly in his ear, "Andrew, I-"
"What the hell are you doing back here, Treneman?" Grantly said sceptically, noticing him for the first time. "I thought we'd seen the last of you last week!"
Kim groaned inwardly as Andrew pulled away from her. "Luckily for you then, I've decided to stay in the country."
"And I take it that you and Miss Campbell are back on?" Grantly jerked his head to where Andrew's hand was residing on her waist. "I originally thought that she had more sense than to go with you in the first place Treneman, but now I think she's truly insane, letting you back in like that."
"Give it a rest, Grantly," Kim sighed, resting her head on Andrew's arm and closing her eyes. "What I do and whom I choose to spend time with has nothing to do with you."
"Just wondering," Grantly muttered, then turned his attention back to Andrew. "So, Treneman, what made you stay in this hellhole? I'm assuming that you're going to tell me you stayed for Miss Campbell, but other than that you must've been pretty desperate to choose this dump over a life of Riley abroad. What did you do, meddle in some other poor school's business too? Have they kicked you out? Not that I care, be assured."
Andrew smiled. "We Brits are obsessed with warm countries, but the heat's not all it's cracked up to be. I much prefer this climate. And I just couldn't be without your caring nature and humorous wit in my working life, Grantly."
Jasmine broke off her singing of Katy Perry's Hot 'n' Cold long enough to try to disguise her snigger with a cough, but failed miserably.
"I have no idea why you're laughing, Miss Koreshi," Grantly said shrewdly. "Mr Treneman may try to belittle people with sarcasm, but I prefer plain old honesty; I'm surprised that my ear drums haven't burst yet after being subjected to sit through this hell with you. Whoever told you that you could sing? They were completely disillusioned. I may transfer to another school just to make sure that my ears never have to suffer through your impression of a cat being strangled again."
Incensed, Jasmine opened her mouth to retort, and with barely stifled laughter themselves, Kim and Andrew went back to their own conversation.
"Did you honestly just come back for me?" Kim asked softly.
Andrew took her hand in his. "Yes. I realised something that day of the Rwandan Fundraiser. Something important. I've been trying to squash it over the time we've spent together, but it just made it even stronger. I felt it before Rwanda, and I felt it while we were there. I still feel it now…" he swallowed, then smiled, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Kim, I-"
"And then we turned round to see Campbell and that Treneman dude totally snogging! It was sick man!" Bolton's voice floated down from the back of the bus, loud enough for everyone on board to hear.
"We're turning into an episode of EastEnders," Grantly said cynically as the pupils began wolf-whistling teasingly.
"I am never kissing you in public again!" Kim warned as the duo burst into embarrassed laughter.
"I think you make a wonderful couple," Jasmine smiled encouragingly at them. "I thought you two were an item when I saw you working together at school; you just seemed to feed off each other, and I'm sure if Rachel-"
"Oh God; Rachel!" Kim exclaimed, ferreting around for her mobile phone. "I was meant to let her know how it ended; she'll be thrilled to know we've won!" She paused for a moment, listening intently, then ended the call. "Her phone's switched off," she said in surprise.
"I saw Rachel running out of the Music Hall," Andrew recalled. "She was in a hurry. I asked her where she was going, but she said there was no time to explain."
"That's odd," Kim frowned as she stowed her phone back. "Rachel's usually has everything planned down to a T, and she always tells someone what's going on!"
"I'm sure everything's fine," Andrew said reassuringly, squeezing her fingers. "I don't know Rachel very well, but I do know she's nothing like Jack. Jack was impulsive. Rachel seems to take the time to think things through. She's probably just sorting something out at the school. We both know how bad that place can be sometimes."
"I suppose you're right," Kim said weakly, and put it to the back of her mind. She couldn't be happier. The choir had won, and Andrew had stayed, just to be with her.
It was four o' clock and the afternoon had been one of the best of their lives.
It was twenty past four and their content mood was shattered by horror as the coach pulled into the school yard.
Destroyed. The school was completely destroyed.
Mutters passed round the bus, angry and resentful. Who could possibly have done this to their precious school?
"This is where Rachel went," Kim murmured. "Why didn't she tell me?"
"If this was happening then she probably didn't have time to do anything but act," Andrew said, stumbling in the aisle when the coach rolled to a halt. Before any of the teachers could react, the students were piling forward in a desperate attempt to reach their building.
At last they were all crowded in the car park, gazing upon the wreck of the place which had once stood tall and proud through it all.
"What are we going to do now?" Kim said despondently as Rachel began to speak.
"No matter what, we'll be fine," Andrew reassured her, pulling her close.
"…It's us, all of you lot; fantastic kids, dedicated staff, and there's me, It's this head teacher."
Her words had the desired effect. There was silence for a moment, then Michaela White started up the chant again, "Waterloo Road… Waterloo Road…"
It began to spread like a bushfire, igniting determination in the hearts of everyone.
"Waterloo Road! Waterloo Road!"
Kim and Andrew glanced at each other and smiled. This was what they had always needed. This was where they belonged, together.
Matt and Steph were hugging, and Rachel was pulled into the crowd of students; Danielle put her arm round her and grinned. Melissa and Philip stood together, nearby. Eddie stood alone.
They were like a big family.
"WATERLOO ROAD! WATERLOO ROAD!"
The mantra hit its crescendo and began to die down.
"Thank you, thank you!" Rachel shouted, returning to stand in front of her school. Everyone quietened as they stared respectfully at her, waiting for her to speak.
"I don't want any of you worrying about the school for next year. I promise you there will be a Waterloo Road. We're not going to give up on it. So I want you all to go home and enjoy your holiday – it'll be hard work as soon as we get back next term. Staff, expect a call sometime this week for a crisis meeting. Miss Campbell, Mr Treneman, I would like a quick word with the two of you. The rest of you are free to go."
The children gave one last hearty cheer before hugging their friends and dispersing, leaving the yard almost completely empty once more.
Grantly was the first teacher to rush towards his car, already dreading that awful first day back in September.
"I see everything worked out between you two then," Steph said delightedly, giving Kim a hug and a sly grin as she prepared to leave the school premise for the holiday. "Hey, you know what they say: first comes love; we'd all better be prepared for the wedding and the pitter patter of little Trenemans next!"
"Hopefully not replicas of Andrew," Kim's nose wrinkled. "One is quite enough for me to cope with!"
"Hey, you don't give ol' lover boy enough credit, Kim. I really do think I wasted my time on the wrong man when Jack was around…"
"It's good to have you back, mate," Tom tried to suppress his laughter at Steph, shaking Andrew's hand. "Are you sticking around this time?"
"Yes," he said simply as Kim slid an arm around him. "I am."
"Kim, Andrew?" Rachel called. "A word please?"
"We're gonna have to go," Kim apologised, and after bidding Steph and Tom another farewell, they turned to Rachel.
"I'll get straight to the point," she said. "I know you two must have a lot of stuff to do. The thing is…Eddie and I have decided that it's in the best interest of the school if he moves on now. He's done a fine job here, but things have got complicated…and it's best that he departs now while we're on good terms."
"Oh, Rachel," Kim said softly. "I am sorry to hear that. You and Eddie made such a good team…"
"Yes, well…" Rachel cleared her throat. "The fact remains that Waterloo Road no longer has a deputy head. I take it," she said to Andrew, "That you're staying in the area?"
It was a question Andrew was becoming accustomed to. "That's the plan, yes."
"So you're in need of a job."
"I suppose so."
She scrutinised him for a moment. "You've got experience, you've gained the respect of the pupils. I want you to take over as Deputy Head again."
"Is that even legal?" he asked her. "Doesn't it have to go through the board; don't I have to have an interview?"
"The interview went very well," she told him gravely. "And I'll square it with the board."
Andrew stared at her, incredulous, before grinning widely. "Fair enough, Miss Mason. Delighted to be on board again."
"Rachel," she corrected as they began walking towards their cars. "I expect you both at the crisis meeting. Listen out for my phone call. Where are you living at the moment, Andrew?"
"He's staying with me," Kim supplied, blushing when the head teacher raised a knowing eyebrow. "You'll be able to reach us both there."
Rachel nodded, then sighed wearily. "I've got a lot to sort out now. Enjoy your holiday, you two. Oh, and try not to catch that bug again, will you?" she added to Kim. "It really was a pain in the backside trying to cover for you. Next time, you lose sickness pay."
Kim flushed again as Andrew smirked, and she elbowed him in the stomach. "It won't happen again, I promise. You have a good holiday too, Rach."
"Thank you," her boyfriend added.
Rachel smiled briefly, then was gone, leaving them alone by Kim's car. They spied Eddie rooted to the spot by the JCB where he had been all along, hands thrust deep into his pockets, an expression of such sadness on his face that it made Kim wonder how Rachel could continue to walk towards him with her head held high without breaking down into tears. If Andrew ever looked at her like that, she knew she wouldn't be able to remain stoic in any decision she'd made to make him look like that. Melissa and Philip were lingering next to the school gate. Not wanting to intrude any further, she and Andrew returned to their own business at hand.
"So, back to mine then?" Kim said, a grin tugging on the corners of her mouth.
"Back to yours," Andrew echoed, dipping his head for a kiss.
Kim closed her eyes from the sheer bliss of it, clutching the lapels of his jacket as it became more intense. There was only one thing on their minds.
It was half past four and all was right in the world again.
It was twenty to eight. Kim and Andrew were sprawled out leisurely on one of her leather sofas, the remnants of their dinner on the coffee table in front of them.
Kim stretched contentedly, then sat up. "I'd better clear this lot up."
"Leave it for a bit," Andrew said, catching her wrist and tugging her closer.
She closed her eyes and smiled as he began to nuzzle her neck in a very tempting manner.
They'd returned home from school as soon as possible and had promptly collapsed on the bed, fuelled by passion and desire. Only an hour ago had they managed to drag themselves downstairs to order a takeaway. Now dinner was over.
"That thing I was trying to tell you earlier," Andrew said abruptly. "I think that it's important I tell you now."
"Hmm?" Kim said, confused. "What is it?"
"Kim, I…" he hesitated for a moment, then laughed nervously. "God, I can quite easily keep calm in a crisis, but…" he paused again. "But I can't even find the right words to tell you that I love you."
Kim stared, open mouthed, exhilarated. "How strange."
"What's strange? That I've gone against my policy of dating a fellow teacher, and actually fallen in love with her?"
"Um, no. I was thinking more along the lines of the fact that I was going to tell you exactly the same thing."
"What, that you went against your policy of dating a teacher too?"
Kim rolled her eyes. "You know, to say that you went to Oxbridge, you can be awfully stupid at times." She paused. "I was actually going to tell you that I love you, too."
Andrew blinked a couple of times, then smiled broadly when she took his hand.
"Well, that's good then," he said. "I was actually quite scared that-"
"Shut up, Andrew," Kim said, leaning in to kiss him. She broke away long enough to glance meaningfully at the door, and Andrew stood up, pulling her with him.
Needless to say, the dishes were forgotten.
It was twenty to twelve. The duvet was tangled around them, rumpled from the hours of passion; Andrew's fresh scent was now instigated firmly within the fibres, their two aromas mingling together. As it should be. The window was thrown open, welcoming the dark night and enticing in a subtle breeze to dry the sweat which cloaked their bodies like a protective layer.
Kim lay with her head on Andrew's chest, staring into the darkness. She'd never experienced happiness like it before in her life; the feeling that welled up inside her like a balloon whenever she thought of Andrew was indescribable.
His fingers splayed across her back, delicately nursing the relaxed muscles in her shoulders. Next he dropped a kiss on top of her frizzy tresses. She felt his heartbeat quicken beneath her ear as she reached up to claim his mouth as her own. He growled playfully in the back of his throat, rolled over so he was pinning her to the bed. They stared heatedly into each other's eyes for a long moment, then Andrew bent in to gently caress her erratically throbbing pulse.
There was nothing waiting to tear them apart now, Kim realised, gratified, as Andrew yanked the duvet over their heads and took her in his arms.
Now they had all the time in the world.
A/N: So, there you have it. :) Surprisingly, it didn't take me all that long to write, and since I had no Internet for a few days, it actually gave me the incentive to put my head down and actually get it finished. I hope you enjoyed it – I enjoyed writing it! :)
Comments? :)