The door opened and a respectable looking man, correctly clothed with waistcoat and bow tie, looked down on her.

"Aye?"

„Mr. Shelby?" She asked and smiled. "I'm glad to meet you here. I wrote a letter to you and gave it to George, but I assume you've never got my message?"

"No." Arthur answered. "What kind of message should George give to me?"

"It was an invitation."

"An invitation?"

"Yes. I wanted to talk to you about George's recent behavior and his school performance." She answered and frowned a bit.

"With me?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Why me?"

"You are his father, aren't you? I'm sorry, if I got something wrong, Mr. Shelby, but George said, his mother passed away and ... I'm sorry for your loss, by the way."

"I don't know much, but I'm one-hundred percent positive that I'm not George's father, Miss."

She could see a little smile pulling at the edges of his mouth, his amusement was clearly visible. She did something horribly wrong, she felt it.

"Oh." She took a step back and looked to the number on the facade. "But you are John Shelby, aren't you?"

"No. My name's Arthur Shelby. John is my brother, so I happen to be George's uncle. And you are?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, again. I've mistaken you for your brother. I've never met him so far and ... and ... I'm Suzanna Stevenson. I'm George's new teacher."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Stevenson. My brother has business in London this week, so ... we're taking turns in babysitting. Today's my turn." Arthur explained. "Please, come in. Can I offer you some tea? Maybe I'm able to help."

"Thank you," she answered and followed him to the kitchen.

"George!" He called and the sound of little feet running down the hallway made her smile.

"Aye sir!" George barked and entered the kitchen, frozen in the movement as he laid eyes on her. "Miss Stevenson ..."

"Good afternoon, George," she said and took the offered seat.

"Miss Stevenson told me about a letter she wrote to your father. I guess he never got that letter, right?"

"Aye, uncle Arthur. The letter, mhm ... Jimmy's dog ate it and I forgot to tell Miss Stevenson to write a new one."

"The dog ate it? That's all you're able to come up with?"

"Miss Stevenson said I should give the letter to father. Jimmy's dog is named Father, isn't he?"

"Sure," he scoffed, shaking his head. "We'll talk about that later. Off you go!"

Suzanna chuckled and hid her smile behind her hand, while George did a little bow in her direction and ran out of the kitchen.

"He's a great storyteller. His essays are very imaginative." She said and gave him a smile.

"No, in this case he's probably right. Guess he tricked you. Actually, Jimmy's dog is named Father, after Father O'Rourke. He'd found him in a pile of rubbish and gave it to Jimmy who'd lost his dog a few days ago. Jimmy was so thankful that he named the puppy Father. Back then he thought Father was the given name of Mr. O'Rourke."

"What did Jimmy's father says to his namesake?" Suzanna asked and Arthur took two cups out of the cupboard: "Jimmy's father died in the war before he was born. So it's no problem. There's only one father at Jimmy's house – the dog."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear this. Most of the children in my classes have similar sad stories. It's a cruel world we live in."

"It is," Arthur answered and sat down. "So, George gives you trouble?"

"A little bit. He's constantly chatting and he doesn't pay attention. He's busy ... with making sheep eyes at Anna Poplova."

Arthur nodded slowly and asked: "That's the blond Russian girl from Tanner Alley, right?"

"She is."

"I'm gonna talk to him. And I'm gonna talk to my brother. He will contact you not later than next week."

"Uncle Arthur?" The voice of a little girl said and Suzanna turned around, seeing a three year old girl standing in the doorframe.

"Hm? Come here, sweetheart. What's up?" He served the tea and sat down, taking the little girl on his lap.

"I'm tired," she murmured, placing her head on his shoulder.

"Aye, that's what I thought. Close your eyes." He leant back and grinned at her. "That's Katie. She still needs a nap and but she doesn't like to nap in her bed. She prefers every other place. Daddy's lap is her favorite, but if he's not here, she takes mine too. Or Aunt Polly's, or Uncle Tommy's, right?"

Suzanna noticed her nodding and only seconds later the girl was asleep.

"Do you have children of your own, Mr. Shelby?" She asked and lowered her voice to a whisper so the girl could nap in peace.

"No. I'm not married. Are you ... espoused to someone?" He asked, looking to the door where footsteps announced another visitor.

"No, I'm not. My fiancé died in the war. Hello there, Jamie." She greeted the little boy standing in the doorframe.

"That's Miss Stevenson," Jamie explained, looking to his uncle. "She's very nice. She's our favorite teacher. Did you know that she's able to perform magic?"

"No, I didn't know that."

"She's got eleven fingers, but I can only see ten. I don't know how she's doing it," Jamie shrugged and looked questioningly at Suzanna.

"That's a very easy spell. You just need to count and add. Shall we proof that your uncle got eleven fingers too?"

Suzanna waved with her hands, pointed on Arthur and said: "Abracadabra!" Then she looked to Jamie and said: "It's done. Go on."

Jamie nodded and came nearer: "Your right hand, please."

Arthur held his hand up and Jamie counted his fingers, starting with the thumb: "One-two-three-four-five."

"Five Fingers. That's right," Suzanna said, "very good, Jamie."

"Your left hand please, Uncle Arthur," Jamie begged and Arthur lifted his left hand carefully, palm up, so Katie wouldn't slip off his lap: "To be honest, I don't feel like I fell under a spell. And I can't see anything different at my hands."

"Shh," Jamie hissed. "No talking. Now the magic comes in!"

He started to count again, this time at his little finger: "Ten-nine-eight-seven-six. What's five plus six, Uncle Arthur?"

He frowned and answered: "Eleven."

"Eleven fingers." Jamie said and nodded, looking very seriously. "You've got eleven fingers. Maybe I'm going to be a magician."

The boy turned around and left without any other word.

Arthur chuckled and shook his head: "Alright, alright. That's some clever trick."

"All the kids love it," she smiled. "I've learned it from my grandfather."

"I've learned from my grandfather how to pick a lock."

"That's truly magic, Mr. Shelby. Way more difficult than the eleven finger trick." She smiled.

"So, uh ... Miss Stevenson ... are you free for dinner on Saturday?" He asked and looked on the tabletop.

She gulped and licked her lips, giving in in the smile her mouth wanted to form all by itself. He was handsome, quite the right age, not too young, not too old, and he seemed to be decent and nice. He was good with kids, at least at the first look.

"I'd love to have dinner with you. Thank you, Mr. Shelby." She answered and the smile on his face made him even more handsome.

"Arthur. I don't like to have dinner with ... strangers."

"Alright, Arthur. My friends call me Suzie."

After dinner they walked down Liverpool Street, and she laughed from the bottom of her heart: "Oh, Arthur, that was a funny one."

"I'm glad you liked it. I've heard it from George."

She took the arm he offered and slowed down a bit: "Are you in a hurry?"

"No. I'm free for the rest of the night."

"Oh, good." Suzanna answered. "I don't want the night to end. I have so much fun."

"Tell this to my friends and family, they wouldn't believe you." Arthur scoffed and shook his head. "So, what are your plans for the night? If we hurry up we could go to the movies. We could see 'The face at the window'. I've heard it's pretty good."

"Uh, that sounds scary. Alright, let's go! Hopefully it's not ... so crowded." She said laughing and pulled him with her.

In the movie theatre she led him to the last row, in the darkest edge of the room. She noticed his smile and whispered: "If someone recognizes me the headmistress will give me hell."

"Is it forbidden to go to the movies for a teacher?", Arthur asked, frowning.

"No", she answered, whispering at his ear, while her fingers intertwined with his. "But kissing in public is."

The music announced the start of the movie and Arthur looked around. He counted ten other pairings sitting close to each other, apart from them the theatre was empty.

"You want to be kissed?" He whispered and she nodded: "Yes, please."

"Where do you want me to kiss you?"

"As a start on the lips, on the neck. If we like it, we could ... go for a walk after the movie ends. And because this is Birmingham, it will start to rain in the minute we're near your home, and we'll be all wet in a matter of seconds. You could offer me a cup of tea and invite me to your ... house, where we can go on with a little bit more kissing. While we're waiting for the water to boil."

"I see," Arthur answered under his breath. "And will you accept an invitation to my bedroom after this cup of tea?"

"We can skip the tea and move directly to your bedroom, Arthur. I prefer tea afterwards."

"You're pretty straightforward, aren't you?" He asked, chuckling.

"I am. Can I have a kiss then?" Suzanna whispered and he obliged immediately.