Chapter 10 – Child's Play

Strain squinted at me his neck bent oddly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was told you brought my class to the beach."

"You want my job."

"No, I don't. It's yours now."

He stood up taller then straightened his jacket. "Good. Right. But…" He slowly turned and looked at the kids in apparent bewilderment. "They can't keep their shoes in a line."

"What?"

He stood up straighter. "The kids need extra training; better teaching. I had them take off their socks and shoes."

I tried to stay calm but from the hangdog way the children stood in a line bespoke volumes. "Why's that? What have you done to them?"

"Nothing. They're all perfectly fine and good children, aren't you?" he said in a simpering way. Then he wagged a finger in my face. "What is the world coming to? Hm? Miss Glasson I am very disappointed in you."

"Oh?" I sidled over towards the children and asked them, "Everything okay here? Everyone in good shape?" I noticed some of the students had tear-streaked faces. I turned back to the Head. "What's been going on?"

"Merely a little beach straightening." He smiled then winked. "Community service."

I looked at the sand, where large green stones stood proud of the ground exposed by the outgoing tide. It looked like any Cornish beach, so I took a step towards my boss. "Mr. Strain, I imagine that you are, uhm, a tad upset with me, but no need to take it out on my students, is there?"

He scowled at me again and shook his head. "If you'd only realize..." he stopped and bit his lip. "How hard this is… look at this mess, would you? This has been on my list… oh yes… a very long list… had to do something about it."

I inspected the kids again, some holding scrub brushes. "What's with the brushes?"

"Scrubbing the rocks, don't you see?" he said almost sheepishly. He waved his hand towards them. "All this… green… stuff! Has to go!" he sniggered. "All of it. Scrub them clean, clean as snow…" he cocked his head. "But they're rocks, right? Clean as rocks then! That's it!" He spread his arms wide and I backed away from him in alarm. He went on, "We must scrub all these rocks clean. All the green and dirt washed away…" Mr. Strain stepped away. "And they… you… all of you must do it." He glanced at his watch then snapped his fingers. "Get to it. Now."

I sighed. The man had misplaced his intellect somewhere. In the few days I'd been back in the village he had gotten odder and odder and even Martin must have noticed it. Their exchange in the school about missing appointments. Martin - that was it. Martin was the answer!

"Mr. Strain," I said softly, "I know you have been under tremendous strain…"

One of the kids giggled and that set Strain off in a tirade.

"No! No! NO!" he yelled. "I know what you're up to! You and Doctor Ellingham! You and your… baby…. you're pregnant on purpose, right? All this scheming and plotting… you'll fill the school with your children, married or not! That's it! Am I right? All the little Ellingham's lined up in a row." He winked at me. "Better get busy then."

"I am not pregnant on purpose. It just happened. Get a grip."

His head turned towards the sea. "Sorry, sorry. I am truly. I hear it you know. I can hear it calling my name." He nibbled on a thumbnail. "But…" he laughed, "these rocks must be scrubbed. Don't you see?"

I knew how to handle drunkards. I'd been pawed over by any number of sods who thought my baps and bum were a free offering for their roving hands to touch. Usually a swift knee to the groin or a kick to the ankle made them back away. I didn't fancy having a physical dustup while pregnant. But Mr. Strain wasn't drunk. He hadn't touched me or the kids from what I saw. Only this verbal abuse. The man had lost his sanity somehow. As long as he kept his distance. Martin likely knew what was wrong with him and had been trying to sort it.

I cleared my throat. "Mr. Strain. Let me call Martin." I reached for my mobile buried in my handbag.

Strain's eyes bugged out and began shaking his head. "No…. no…. no. Now you and all these children get to work," he hissed. "Or I'll… I'll…"

"You'll what exactly?"

He started walking in circles around me and kids. "Dirty rocks. Dirty rocks. Dirty... homework. You'll all have lots of homework," he muttered. Then he stopped and looked at me with eyes awash with despair. "Please, help me." His hands wrung together with a life of their own.

I held up my hands. "Right. Class! Mr. Strain has given us a really nice assignment to get all these rocks spick and span. Right? Now Jaime, would you bring that bucket with all those brushes over here? Good. Now then everyone get a brush." I bent awkwardly and got to my knees. If everyone gets their very own rock and start scrubbing." The kids got busy by for Charlie who stood there shivering. "Charlie, you come help me," I said to him.

Strain hovered over me. "This one…" he pointed at my helper, "needs a bit more training."

I smiled at Charlie who was only eight. "Charlie, at home, when you and your sisters have a bath, I expect your mum scrubs the tub after?"

He nodded dumbly, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve. "Uh huh."

"Right then so let's take a brush." I held up the one in my hand. "Like this, hold it tightly, and start rubbing all this green weed of this rock. Then we can see how pretty it is. That good?"

Charlie nodded. "Okay, Miss Glasson." He set to work glad to have some direction while a madman prowled the beach.

"Scrub, scrub, scrub the rocks," I began to sing. "Make them all nice and neat. Pretty and sparkling."

Strain rocked back on his heels. "Pretty rocks, yes that's good. Oh, very good!" He roughly petted Charlie's blonde head. "Good boy. Help your teacher." He lifted his hand from Charlie then smoothed his own thinning hair as he looked down at me. "Why are you helping?"

"It's what you want."

He shook his head from side to side not believing me.

"And you're my boss," I told him.

His nose wrinkled. "Yes… there is that."

He walked towards the other children and I heard him tell them to 'make the rocks pretty.'

Charlie whispered to me, "I'm scared."

I nodded at him and smiled reassuringly. "He's just playing a game. A special game," I answered Charlie. I made sure Strain was looking the other way as I snuck my mobile from my bag, quick dialed the surgery, and tucked phone between ear and shoulder keeping my back to the Head Teacher.

Pauline answered on the second ring. "Portwenn Surgery!" she screeched in my ear.

"Pauline, it's Louisa. I must speak to Martin immediately. Urgent!" I whispered.

"Doc! Miss Glasson!" she screeched into my ear as she yelled from reception to his examining room.

Martin got on the line sharpish. "Louisa?"

"It's all very nice here at Rosscarrock Cove!" I told him in mock happiness.

"What's wrong?" Martin whispered.

"We could sure use some… help! Getting this beach all cleaned up!" I told him obliquely, pretending to be taking to Charlie.

Martin asked me, "Mr. Strain is there?"

"That's right," I told him quietly.

"And you can't talk?" he said to me.

"That's right, that's right…" I said but the mobile slipped away falling to the sand. "That's good," I finished. I turned and saw Strain looking my way. "That's good," I repeated after I tucked my mobile under the rock and out of sight. "Now," I said brightly. "What's next?"

Strain smiled at me, humming happily, lost in his own little world. I just prayed that Martin got my message clear enough.

Not five minutes later, Martin came running towards the beach, medical case in hand.

"Here comes Dr. Ellingham," I said brightly to the children. "He'll help us!"

"Are you alright?" Martin asked me when he got close.

"Fine."

"You're sure?"

Thirty-seven, well, thirty-eight now, single, pregnant, living over a pub… I actually only felt fine when I saw Martin. He didn't come to the altar but at least he came when I called for help.

I smiled up at him while a madman roved in the background. "Glad you came."

* This one came quick on the heels of Chapter 9 as I too was left in anxiety!