Disclaimer: apart from the bits JustAReader199 encouraged me to include in this sequel to "Gallifreyan Productions", not much here belongs to me beyond the book and the DVDs.
A/N: using the plot bunny from this post, I wrote and am posting this for tkelparis's birthday. Happy birthday, love!
A/N2: I ended up buying and reading "The Bad Mother's Handbook" as part of my research (which was no hardship, I assure you). Eeee the things you do….

The Bad Choirmaster's Handbook

Part 1

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Roderick Peterson was generally a patient man. His cool exterior gained him a great deal in life; almost as much as his determination and ambition did. But sitting in the assembly hall of a northern junior school just outside Bolton for the benefit of a culture committee was not his idea of entertainment.

Of course he blamed his brother Donald. "Go out and experience the masses. See some normal people," he had said. "Being stuck in the rut of a private school is weakening your life. We've got a special festival soon so why don't you come and see us?"

So Roderick had followed his advice and accepted the first offer that came his way. It had led him straight here to the village of Bank Top, listening to the mediocre offerings of an untutored choir in a school that had forgotten Christmas was long over, it would seem; judging by the pathetic pieces of tinsel that adorned the stage. He couldn't help the sneer that forced its way onto his lips, and he didn't exactly fight it off either.

That is, he didn't, until a slightly familiar looking figure eased down onto the seat next to him, which happened to be the only vacant chair in the vicinity. It was only as she sat down that he realised who she reminded him of, and he desperately railed against the welcome he subsequently wanted to give her. Physically she reminded him of his new sister-in-law, Donna; who in turn had made him think of Sophie, the young woman his twin had been so enamoured with in their youth, back when they had started university. It was strange how similar their characteristics were.

In light of that, it was best that he didn't react in a familiar manner and kept a respectful distance. That inevitably meant avoiding any and all physical contact. Alas, she stiffened beside him.

Karen Cooper had cautiously made her way into the school hall, hoping to watch the events going on. Damn Jason Outhwaite! He'd caused her to miss the beginning of everything by being a right little pig. She'd have words with his mother later. Being late meant that she couldn't sneak into the back and into her usual position amongst the other teaching assistants because it had already been taken by some visiting bod. No idea who they were.

The only seat left had been next to a rather austere looking man with slicked back hair, dressed all in black; the style of which was both casual smart and expensive in quality. He was clad in black trousers, retro glasses, a black blazer, and underneath it, a black cashmere polo neck jumper. No doubt his underwear was equally expensive too. As was the scent of his after shave.

On the other side of him sat Nicholas Brassingham, the local primary school education inspector. She exchanged pleasant smiles with them both as she sat down, and adjusted her position so that she encroached on the stranger's personal space as little as possible.

He flashed her a questioning glance when her handbag fell over and hit him in the ankle; not with any force, mind you. Not one to back down from a challenge, she gave him her sweetest smile and then returned her attention to the school performance going on in front of them.

They were showcasing the school as part of the proposed City of Culture scheme soon to be implemented, if the mayor of Bolton had his way. Although quite honestly, Karen couldn't have cared less in that moment. Mainly because she had been forced to sit in the front row, in the only seat available; well away from the other teaching assistants. They'd think she was suddenly trying to elevate herself.

Anyway, that was by the by. She was stuck sitting next to some stiff who wriggled about in his seat as he attempted to subtly move as far away from her as possible. Berk!

Fervent movement to her side made her look up, and she saw a pleasantly rotund middle aged man gesturing silently at her. It was Leo Fairbrother, the school's headteacher, who stood wavering nearby, gazing at her anxiously. He answered her questioning stare by quietly saying, "You're sitting in my seat."

Immediately she tried to stand, flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. I'll just…"

"No, you stay," the stranger instantly offered, reaching out as though he would try to physically halt her retreat, "and I'll go find a spot to stand in at the back of the hall."

She gawped at him. "I can't let you do that."

"It would be no bother, I assure you," he smoothly declared, noting as he stood that she was taller than most women; reaching passed his shoulder. It was refreshingly different not to have to look down so much. "A lady should always be given preferential treatment."

You what! Her mouth moved wordlessly for some seconds as her brain enjoyed his gentlemanly attention. It caused her to totally miss Leo faffing about, looking for a chair and ordering the nearest child to fetch one for him. In the end, she feebly murmured, "But you're the guest of honour."

She didn't know that for sure if he was or not, but it was a good guess in the circumstances. Not many people would have been plonked on the front row like that; especially if Leo was after a seat.

Now amused rather than annoyed, Roderick's suave smile came out with full force. "It would be my pleasure."

"All sorted," Leo loudly proclaimed as a chair arrived and he propped himself at the end of the row of seats. "You can sit back down, Ms Cooper." And further entertain our guest, he silently added. "There's no need for Mr Peterson or anyone else to move."

"After you," Roderick invited her to reseat herself before he did.

Now cornered, Karen sat back down next to the stranger, feeling much better about his company.

~o0o~

Everyone politely clapped as the Lostock Primary School choir on the stage finished singing and their choirmaster bowed. Karen breathed a sigh of relief that this whole business would be over in a matter of seconds. Okay, the man sitting beside her had offered her small smiles every now and then, which helped relieve the air of formality that surrounded him, but she had other things to do and places to go. Things like cutting out thirty stars for her class to stick purple glitter on.

She had only just retrieved her handbag from the floor to fling over her shoulder when Leo broke into her thoughts by requesting, "Would you show Mr Peterson here where the staffroom is, please?"

'What, me?' she had wanted to query but the man in black spoke up instead.

"I'm sure Ms Cooper has more pressing matters to attend to then escorting me," Roderick commented.

"You don't mind, do you?" Leo aimed at her, grinning expectantly. "I'll be along in just a moment."

What could she say in answer to that? "Of course I don't mind," she trilled. "If you would follow me," she offered in Roderick's direction. 'Well, I suppose I can give him ten minutes or so,' she pondered.

Behind her, Roderick tried to keep his gaze on the back of the ginger tresses that emblazoned her head as she lead him through the narrow pathway left by the throng of children as they filed out of the hall towards their classrooms; but his eyes kept dipping down to the unconscious sway of her hips. He suspected that the headmaster had volunteered her assistance to appease him in some way. It was certainly working, because his mood had brightened considerably.

It remained in upbeat mode despite Leo soon joining them as they walked through the carpeted corridor to the staffroom and toward the promise of refreshments within.

"No, Ms Cooper," Leo halted her attempt to leave them and return to her appointed classroom. "There's no need to go off just yet. Why don't you entertain Mr Peterson here while I arrange some tea for us all? Sylvie seems to have mislaid the orange squash for the visiting children."

Feeling Roderick's eyes bore into her from behind his horn-rimmed glasses, she somewhat reluctantly agreed. Being alone with him wasn't exactly her idea of joy as other people filed into the room.

"Sylvie is the school secretary," she informed him.

"Ah, yes," he acknowledged. "I met her when I arrived this morning."

That meant that Sylvie would be keen to gossip about him later, knowing her. It took all of Karen's effort to stifle a giggle at the prospect of discussing him. "Where you from then?" she had then asked him to create a conversation.

"London, originally," he answered.

Of course he was, she told herself. Only someone from London would have sat there looking as though he had a stick up his butt. He was doing a pretty good job of standing to attention in the middle of the staffroom as though the stick was still propping him up. "I went there once, on a day trip," she supplied. "It's a big place."

"How very nice for you." This chit chat was boring him. He would much rather get to know her better. "What do you teach here?"

"Oh I don't teach; not real teaching," she answered modestly. "I'm a just teaching assistant."

"I assure you, you are not 'just' anything," he leaned in to voice. Her nostrils flared in a slight panic, so he quickly stepped back. "I myself currently work in the education sector on a professional basis. I mentor the choir of St Cuthbert's College."

She frowned as the name raced through her mind. "I think I've heard of it. Isn't that some posh private school?"

"An independent school," he corrected. "Yes."

"So you're a music expert?" she wondered.

He nodded. "I have gained some fame as both a composer and conductor."

"Peterson. Peterson," she mulled over the name. "You're not Roderick Peterson by any chance?" she joked.

"Yes, I am, actually," he confirmed; pleased to see the shock on her face.

"But you wrote that music," she floundered. "The one with the violins, from that alien film."

He knew the piece she meant, but felt it best to merely nod. John and Andy would not be pleased to find out that their award winning creation was known as 'that alien film' but it might be fun to tell them anyway. "Indeed I did."

"What must you think of me?" Karen gasped in horror. "I almost sat on your lap earlier."

"Well, not quite," he mildly disagreed. "But I'm sure your husband would not approve if you had."

"Pft! Haven't got one of those," she huffed. "I divorced him a long time ago."

This was getting better and better. Roderick had to fight the urge to blurt out an invitation of the dating kind. "Would you care to join me in a cup of tea or coffee?" he proposed instead as a tea trolley appeared in the staffroom.

"Eeee, I thought you'd never ask," she replied, and smiled prettily at him.

As he left her side to attain two cups of tea, he realised that this could turn out to be a very dangerous game. Only time would tell.

~o0o~