A/N Okay, here is chapter 1, but before you start there are a couple of important points you might like to know. This story is A/U, as after she found out she was pregnant; Rachel decided to stay after the end of series 5. So therefore, she stays at Waterloo Road and as a result all the stuff that happened in the show hasn't happened in this fic – mainly, there was no move to Scotland, Waterloo Road is still located in Rochdale. So, I think that's all you need to know...

Chapter 1

Rachel slips into her seat behind her desk, but she isn't left alone for long. A few short, precious minutes later, the door bursts open and Rachel groans internally. She just wanted a few seconds of peace. Her morning has been hectic as it is, and she doesn't need to add teenage dramas to that list. "Mum, I can't believe Mr Hastings – he's given me a detention, already!" Rachel's sixteen year old daughter, Eleanor, complains. Rachel smirks slightly; she's already spoken to Darren Hastings that morning, telling her deputy not to be soft on her daughter, something he has been over the last couple of months.

"Well, you must have done something, Ellie?" Instead of answering, Eleanor dramatically launches herself into a vacant chair. Then, and only then, does her daughter answer her.

"I was tiny, tiny, bit late to registration." Ellie announces, and Rachel shakes her head. She drove Eleanor in this morning, forty minutes early, and yet, she still manages to be late. Rachel isn't sure how she does it. This is the third time this term.

"How late?" Rachel asks. Ellie mumbles something that she doesn't catch, so Rachel repeats her question. After a little while longer of interrogation, Rachel manages to coax the answer out of her daughter.

"Ten minutes." Rachel despairs.

"How did you manage to be that late, Ellie?" She asks, seriously confused how her daughter can arrive forty minutes early and still end up being ten minutes late. Not that Rachel is expecting her to, Eleanor doesn't answer her.

She has gotten used to her daughter's behaviour over the past year and a bit, putting it down to being a teenager. Besides, Rachel cannot judge Eleanor for her little misdemeanours – behaving badly in class, turning up late and skiving lessons all together – for Rachel did much worse when she was a little bit older than Ellie, something she is ashamed about and, yet, it made her the woman she is today. "Look, Ells, I think you need to buck up your ideas, and quick. Your grades are slipping and you're popping up in the cooler more often than not these days. I know I'm the head teacher, but more importantly, I'm your mum." She wonders why she can get through to her students, but not her own flesh and blood. Rachel just wants her daughter to come good. She's clever, and used to be a goody two shoes who loved dressing up as a fairy. Rachel remembers her daughter's childhood with nostalgia and fondness – they never warn you enough how hard it is to live with teenagers, and her job can only prepare her so much for the joys and pitfalls that make up parenting. Her daughter now prefers to spend her weekends getting drunk and doing god knows what with the wrong sorts of people. Rachel can only hope that Ellie doesn't do anything near as stupid as she did when she was seventeen.

Her daughter stands up, shaking her head in disgust. "Just leave it, mum." Ellie shouts, storming from the office. Rachel puts her head in her hands and bemoans teenagers. Why did they have to be so tricky to deal with? Everything you do seems to be the wrong thing to do. Put a foot wrong and they pick up on it.

Rachel shakes her head and straightens up, just in time to see her bemused deputy standing in the door, holding a stack of paperwork and Rachel can tell he has just witnessed the end of the mother, daughter conversation. "All okay in the Mason household?" Darren asks, entering her office and shutting the door. He takes a couple of steps into the room and sits down.

"Yeah, you know what teenagers can be like. I tried telling her to stop messing about but she took it like I was telling her to stop living. God, why do they overreact so much? Why can't I have a nice mannered, civil daughter? What did I do wrong?" Rachel asks, in mock seriousness. Ellie may be a handful sometimes, but she's Rachel's daughter and she wouldn't change her for the world. She loves her.

"So I've got the applications for the head of maths job here, and as the interviews are this afternoon and you haven't had a look at them…" Darren points out, dropping the thick wodge of paper onto her desk. Rachel flicks through the pile of letters of application and the attached CV's. Darren looks up at her, a smile playing with his lips. He's in his mid-thirties, with two small kids and Rachel can tell, after working at Waterloo Road for now close six years, he's dreading the day with his two girls become teens. Rachel's met his wife, Fran, a couple of times and Rachel has to say that Darren is lucky. Just from the looks they gave each other, Rachel could tell that they have something special – that kind of true love that you can't see yourself but that is completely obvious to anyone else watching. Damn, they're lucky to be happy, because even if you realise that you have that love, it can always go wrong. Rachel can vouch for that, at least.

"I'll look later, but I've got lots on at the moment, what with the inter-schools spelling competition happening this afternoon. I've got make sure that Frank actually takes them this time – instead of just forgetting like the last time, you know what he's like." Darren nods.

"I mean, if you're so busy, you don't have to trawl through all of that. You could just sit in on the interviews, and I can ask all the questions. I know you're really run down at the mo, cause of Ell and everything." Darren inquires, and though she won't admit it, Rachel is glad for the offer. Darren is so much better than her at interviews, and he seems much more on top of the applications than she does, so it makes sense that he takes the lead. "If you don't mind me asking, what time did Eleanor come home last night?"

"Why?"

"Cause I'm worried about her." Darren explains, standing and making his way to the door.

"Aren't we all?" Rachel says, exasperated. She doesn't want to tell Darren that Ellie didn't come home until six in the morning and that Rachel has no idea where she was. She feels like she's fails as a parent every single time this happens. These trips out are becoming more regular – every Friday, now, she doesn't come home until the earlier hours of the morning, and Rachel has waited up for her every single time. To be honest, she's scared Eleanor will end up like her, something she is desperately trying to guard against. Rachel thinks that Ellie has her head screwed on too much to do anything as stupid as that, but she never knows.

Rachel always told herself not to worry about Eleanor following in her footsteps, but it's been something that's haunted her ever since her darling daughter turned fourteen and started hanging around with the wrong crowd people – harmless people really, just the really disruptive ones, the ones who love to pick a fight or bunk off, nothing too serious. Rachel is dreading the day something bad will happen to Ell, something every parent has nightmares about, and Rachel is no exception. She's always wondered, however, if things would be different if Ellie had had her father in her life.

There have been many times in the last sixteen years that Rachel has regretted her decision not to inform Eddie she was having his child. Top of that list is when she went into labour in her office, with only Kim, Steph and, the less than useless, Max there to help her. She had wanted Eddie there so much she had called his name. She can remember the looks on the faces of Kim and Steph when that had happened, because she had refused to talk about father of the baby to anyone. Rachel hadn't been deaf, however, and when she started to get a bump, the kids used to whisper constantly, every time she came down the corridor, rather too loudly for their own good. She'd heard what they were saying, and more than often, it was 'do you think Lawson's the dad?' or something along those lines.

It wasn't just the pupils, either. Quite often when entering the staffroom, the chatter would die down instantly and Rachel would know that they had been talking about her. One time, she'd paused in the doorway and listened to the conversation going on. She'd been right, they were talking about her – speculating as to whether Eddie was the dad and if he was, where the hell was he? She remembers smiling sadly to herself when she heard Tom saying angrily that if Eddie was the father, that he had a duty to come back and look after his kid. If only it was simple, she had though – and still thinks. If only…

Slowly climbing up the list of the times she's regretted not informing him he was going to be a dad; however – which included the day Eleanor had broken her leg playing netball – is now. Eleanor needs a father figure in her life to help to guide her away from the bad influences she is being exposed to.

Calling him and telling him about his daughter and her problems is out of the question for obvious reasons. Ellie is sixteen now, sixteen years Rachel's had to tell Eddie and sixteen years that she hasn't. Now, even though she doesn't want to think about, Rachel knows it's too late.

Sometimes she catches herself thinking about her niece or nephew, the one that is Eleanor's half sibling. She wonders if Philip has met him or her – something she doubts, because Rachel and Philip talk on the phone now and then and he would have mentioned it. Most of all she wonders what Eddie is like as a father to that child. Then, she wonders what he would have been like if he had been a father to her child. She knows it's wrong of her to think like this, it's her fault that Eddie remains blissfully unaware that he has fathered a child with her.

Rachel pushes the job application sheets to the side and picks up her phone and asks Lily, her secretary, to fetch Mr Carlson for her. She needs to make sure he's going to remember to take the spelling team to Forrest Mount.

…

She's just about to take a look at the job application sheets, when there is a knock at the door and Katie enters. Katie Jonson is the head of Pastoral Care at Waterloo Road, but has only been in the job for six months, and Rachel thinks she's doing a brilliant job so far. In front of her, is a burly boy, looking sullen. Rachel doesn't recognise him, but then realises that he must be the new boy. "Alex Ryan." Katie introduces, pushing him towards a seat. Katie slaps his paperwork down onto the table and Rachel skim reads it.

"So Alex," Rachel starts, but the boy's eyes are glued to the floor. Now addressing Katie, she speaks again. "Shouldn't a parent be here?" Katie shrugs, gesturing Alex. Rachel understands, the boy hasn't explained at all and Katie is hoping that Rachel can get through to the glowering young boy. Before she can ask him however, Alex surprises her by speaking up.

"No one could come, Miss." He offers up. Rachel nods, slowly – wondering what could be more important to his parents than helping their son settle into his new school. "My dad was going to come, I swear," He continues. "but mum called and she never calls him, so it must have been for something important." Rachel notes that, from what Alex is saying, that he lives with his dad and not his mum.

"Why couldn't your mum come?" Katie asks, sliding into a seat angled to face Alex.

"Cause I don't live with her, do I?" He says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. "She lives in Manchester with her new fella. I only see her every other weekend, anyway." Alex says, shrugging like he doesn't care, but Rachel has an inkling that he does.

The bell goes and Katie digs inside a folder and pulls out Alex's timetable. She hands it to him, pointing out what lessons he has today and what form group he is in – Rachel notes that the new boy is in the same form group as Ellie. Rachel wishes the boy a good first day, and Katie leads him out of the room. Rachel sinks back down into her chair, feeling tired.

…

Rachel is sitting in her office, feeling quite contented. It's last period and Frank managed to get the spelling team to the tournament this time after Rachel's gentle reminder. Nothing much has gone wrong today. There have been no fights, no disruptive pupils, not much trouble in general. There has been some trouble, of course, some of the regular trouble makers have played up and refused to work or talked back to a teacher one too many times. Pupils like Will Fitzpatrick or Amy Lander, the king and queen of trouble at Waterloo Road at the moment. Rachel knows that in a few years, or even months, their spaces will be filled by somebody else. She's seen so many generations of students pass through this school that she's lost count but many students stand out. Bolton's one. She sometimes wonders what happened to that lad, if he finally made it good or if he reverted back to his old ways.

Another student is Lindsay James. That poor, poor girl, Rachel thinks, sadly. She likes to think that Lindsay made something of herself too; that she became a lawyer or a counsellor, someone who made a difference. She doesn't deserve to have her life messed up by what her father did to her.

Those two pupils were a long time ago now, though, andlots more students and their dramas that have passed through her school more recently – students like Matthew Turner, who left last year. When he started he was quite the little trouble maker, and soon it escalated when he set fire to his local shop. By the time Matt left, he was top of his year and hardly ever got into trouble. Rachel regards Matt as a success story. He is now at Uni studying foreign languages. He'd made it good.

Her moment ofreminiscence ends when she spies the clock. It's time for her to check up on the teachers and their lessons. There's one teacher she wants to keep an especially close eye on. James Quincy is a NQT English teacher, and Rachel's read the timetable, he's got third set year elevens now and Rachel wants to see how he's coping. James is a slight, wispy thing and Rachel can see him becoming intimidated by some of the burly, fierce looking year elevens. However, he might be doing fine and Rachel might have nothing to worry about. Somehow, she doubts it.

She checks on each lesson, leaving Mr Quincy's till last. She walks up the corridor, and even before she can see in through the big, glass, corridor facing windows, she knows something is up. The noise coming from the classroom is far too loud for a calm and controlled lesson.

Coming down the corridor towards her is Darren, and she remembers that he has the next door classroom. Rachel raises and eyebrow in his direction and he shakes his head in reply. They come to the door, just as the situation in the classroom comes to a head. James is cowering at the front, standing frozen. The kids are in uproar, screaming and shouting and generally causing a mess. James is trying in vain to get the class under control but he is failing miserably, just incurring a rash of insults from a group of boys sitting near the front.

As Rachel is about to push the door open, a boy in the third row pounds his fist onto the table, having had enough of the lesson and Mr Quincy. Rachel pauses. "I've had enough of this." He shouts. "Are you coming, El?" He says, and Rachel recognises him and the girl he's addressing. It's the new boy, Alex, and her daughter. Both stand at the same time, not noticing Rachel and Darren standing in the doorway. They make their way to the front, kicking chairs out of their way and pushing past other pupils. Mr Quincy tries in vain to gain control again, by standing in their way, but Alex just pushes past him as well. When he gets to the front, Alex calls behind him. "We don't have to take this anymore!" He gets a roar in reply from the other kids and they start following Ellie and his example, standing and trying to force their way to the front. It's now that Rachel and Darren know they have to intervene.

Rachel swings the door open. "What the hell is going on?" Rachel shouts over the clamour in the room. Instantly, the noise dies down, and the students sit – all except Eleanor and Alex, who are still standing at the front. Everyone, including Mr Quincy, is staring at her open mouthed that they've been caught – everyone, or so she thought. Her own daughter won't look her in the eye. "Well?" She asks, addressing Mr Quincy, Alex and Ellie in particular. "The cooler, you two, now!" She barks and watches Ellie drag Alex with her from the room, looking rather sorry for themselves. She shakes her head, it's Alex's first day and he's already gotten into trouble.

She turns back so she's facing the whole class. "You should all be ashamed what has happened in here today." Several faces go bright red with embarrassment. "I hope I never see a repeat performance, or you'll all be in massive trouble." Rachel makes her way to the door, the class suitably tamed, at least for the moment. "Mr Quincy, you may continue with your lesson." Rachel turns and leaves the classroom, Darren hot on her heels. They walk to the cooler in silence.

When they get there, Ellie and Alex are sitting on opposite sides of the room, steadfastly looking away from each other. "Well, I'll start by saying how disappointed I am in you." She says, looking pointedly at Ellie."Especially you, Ellie. My own daughter…" She says, shaking her head. Alex turns and looks at Ellie then, obviously he hadn't known that Ellie is the head's daughter. "And it's your first day, Alex." She adds, gesturing at the boy. She looks at Darren and speaks in a low voice so that the other two occupants of the room don't hear her. "I'll let you deal with the punishment." She says, making her way to the door. "I've got something else I need to deal with."

…

A little while later, when Darren has clearly finished telling them off, Ellie appears in her doorway. "Mum, can I have a word?" She says, quietly. Rachel nods and Eleanor comes in, sliding into a seat opposite her. There something eating away at her daughter, and Rachel doesn't know what it is.

"El, what's wrong?" She says, sympathetically.

"I'm sixteen now, mum." Ellie says, quietly. Rachel can predict what Ellie is going to say and she really doesn't want to hear it. "I want to know about my father."

Rachel sighs. She hasn't told Ellie anything about her father. Nothing. Ellie only vaguely knows she has an aunt – but doesn't know why she's never met her. Rachel doesn't really want to remember Eddie or Melissa or what happened that meant that Melissa's kid gets a dad, but Rachel's doesn't. It hurts her far more than she would like to admit, especially to her daughter.

Rachel is about to tell Ellie to ask another time, another day, when Rachel isn't quite as frazzled as she is today, when there is a knock at the door. Darren appears and Rachel glances at the clock. It's time for interviews.

…

The interviews are as boring as paint drying. Darren tries to make them interesting by asking some quite strange and not well thought out questions, and telling her jokes in the gaps between the applicants. They've come to the last one now, thank god. "And I think he looked the best on paper, really. I think his CV said he worked here before – but twenty years ago, or something, before our time." Darren informs her, but she's not really concentrating. Rachel's distracted thinking about what happened earlier and how she needs to save Ellie from herself. Ellie's digging herself further and further into a hole and when she finally realises that she wants to get out, she won't be able to. Rachel doesn't hear Darren call the last applicant and as a result she doesn't realise who it is until it is too late. Rachel realises with a jolt that Ellie might get her wish after all.

Eddie Lawson is sitting across from her, the final applicant for the job.

…

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