Hello! I'm back with a long overdue update. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks as always for your lovely reviews xx

Haunted

October 2010

Rachel made her way through the double doors. On autopilot, she knew the route. Some kids squealed at her presence, happy to see her back. Teenagers flew through the corridors to their different classes yet Rachel easily cut her way through the crowds; authority still held. A casual look and slightly longer, blonder hair were a far cry from the same figure that patrolled only two months' prior. Suits and formality had now been replaced with jeans and a t-shirt, handbag still slung over her arm. Now, she was just a familiar face, transcending up the stairs; somewhat a ghost of near-distant past.

Entering the antechamber she saw through to the office. The shrill voice of a recognisable young girl danced, animatedly saying her goodbyes to whoever was on the phone. Rachel paused, shocked at the sight in front of her - Janeece. The figure in front of her looked no different, bar the lack of uniform. Her pink jumper played to her new professional grown-up role, complemented by her glasses; somewhat of a facade. This girl now carried extra weight which was, surprisingly, news to Rachel. Philip hadn't mentioned it. Clearly, there was something in the air. Rachel mildly panicked at the reminder of her own circumstance.

"Oh my god!" Janeece squealed. "Miss Mason." Already it felt strange to be called that. The young girl dropped her tasks, abandoning her desk and making a beeline for Rachel. Clearly, Janeece thought they were on contact terms. Over-friendly wasn't the word.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," Rachel smiled, returning the girl's sincere small embrace and exchanging a light chuckle. She knew Janeece meant no harm, despite how strange it was to hug her. Rachel was somewhat taken aback by Janeece's forwardness, clocking she had fallen from a figure of authority to being a mutual acquaintance.

"What are you doing here?" Janeece blurted out, before quickly supplementing her question with more personal detail. "Oh wait, I heard you got married." The excitement spiked as those words left her mouth. The squeal of intonation suggested it was still hot and doing the rounds . Before a surprised Rachel could even catch up with a response, Janeece filled her in on the reasoning for her question. "It's all talk of the school." Janeece smirked, like the cat that got the cream. Rachel, however, very much doubted that - summer now seemed like a far distant memory.

Their conversation was quickly interrupted by an older figure, peering around the office door. A figure who already looked so comfortable and settled in her new found role - or so she played. To Rachel, it was strange to see someone in that doorway. Her office.

"Rachel," Karen smiled, warmly. "Come on in."

This was no longer Rachel's ground, but unfamiliar territory.

/

A long, three hours ensued signing off final paperwork, answering questions and running through the final balance sheets. The table was strewn with papers. A pen lid perched on the corner of Rachel's lips while scribbling across various things, as Karen watched intently. It was a process finessed. Coffee cups scattered around them as signs of serious business. Despite being clued up on most things to do with the school, Rachel didn't expect a lengthy four month handover. 'It was a complex school' said the LEA, who begged and pleaded at Rachel for her final commitment.

"I'm not sure how your last school did it, but you'll need to file this one by December," Rachel said, half distracted as she scribbled off her signature onto a final page. "Oh and this - finance forecast by mid-November," she finalised, handing two bulky documents to Karen across the table. Rachel had it nailed to clockwork. Karen looked on with false confidence, clearly trying to take this all in.

"Oh, and Jennifer will ask for that in October, but it's definitely for November," Rachel added. It was insider knowledge, delivered with a knowing, unthreatening smile - Jennifer was hot on the money, but always messed up on this one date.

"Thank you," Karen began, seemingly grateful and also relieved. Officially three months into the job she found herself paddling, and fast. Drowning. "I'll admit I'm a bit out of practice…" Karen smiled, cautiously, in an attempt to not give too much away. Rachel mirrored her with a sympathetic smile. It was almost an act between them both.

"Once the first term is done, you'll be flying," Rachel reassured. "But yeah, you know how it is… heads down, survival until then."

Rachel's warmth put Karen at ease a little, and a small chuckle escaped them. Karen was no stranger to management paperwork but it had been two years since she'd last stepped into a headship. She scanned through the files Rachel had just passed her.

"This document - do I need to co-sign?" Karen trailed off, a little lost. This was a lot, and this younger, blonder, more confident woman made it seem effortless to Karen. Christ.

"Yes, and the second," Rachel confirmed, without so much of a glance at the paper in Karen's hand. She was already busy scribbling the next. "I expect it will be fine but as I created the originals, it's worth covering in case."

"Okay…" Karen trailed off, confidence waning a little. It was one she'd ask Chris about, no doubt.

"I think that's it," Rachel declared, handing the final files across the table with a relieved smile. She couldn't help but study Karen as she played catch up. It was safe to say that Karen had been given a crash course on the headship. Her third. Despite that, Rachel observed with the greatest - and kindest - thoughts of hope, Karen was a woman who was already on choppy waters. This wasn't anything like the schools she had tackled before.

"You've been a star, thank you," said Karen, pulling her confident front back up. She was a master at a facade. She acknowledged how Rachel made this look easy. A seasoned professional, despite being a good ten-fifteen years younger than the usual headteacher material Karen typically encountered - including herself. "Was this your first headship?" Karen asked, cautiously with a false innocence. Despite the friendly conversation Karen admittedly was a little threatened by the woman in front of her. First? Unlikely.

"No, this was my third," Rachel shared, a small smile as she got out of her seat, beginning to sort the papers. Karen made an attempt to hide her mild surprise; a slightly raised eyebrow was enough to encourage Rachel to elaborate.

"The first I was deputy, and I unexpectedly got the chance to step in," Rachel added. "And the second was a school in South Manchester. That was hard work. Scraped the bottom of the league tables eight years running."

Karen had heard about that one, a school local to her own former school - it had made the papers for its miracle turnaround, courtesy of a dubbed 'super head'. This, Karen clocked, was her. Right in front of her very eyes. It explained it all. The effortlessness, the mastery; the plate spinning. Rachel clearly was a woman who knew where to put people and how to handle them. A mover. Karen knew she had some shoes to fill.

"Castle Hill?" Karen smiled, knowing.

"Yeah", Rachel confirmed, a little surprised that she knew.

"I was the head at Birchfield. I thought I recognised you,"

"Got you," Rachel smiled, apprehensions forgotten. Karen was a local neighbour in the trenches.

A comfortable silence fell upon them as Karen joined Rachel in tidying the table, pulling all the papers together. Rachel sincerely hoped that this was going to work out for the woman in front of her. This was purely on a selfish note too - she couldn't bear the thought of her three years' work being unravelled in a matter of weeks.

"This has been somewhat of a step for me,…" Karen began, nonchalantly. The two of them had built up a friendly rapport over the last few weeks during the handovers, but it never broadened beyond professional chat. Now was the first time it looked to go beyond that. Personal. "Stepping into the hot seat again."

Rachel gave her a supportive smile - she knew the reasons why. Chris had filled her in on Karen's history, and the trauma she had endured over the last two years with her daughter.

"What convinced you?" Rachel quizzed supportively, yet genuinely invested in her answer. It was perhaps a little unnecessarily nosy.

"My husband, Charlie," she began, comfortably. "He made me believe in myself, and trust myself, in fact." Rachel couldn't help notice Karen beaming with pride. "That's why I'm here, doing this again."

"He was the voice you needed…" Rachel trailed off lightly, smiling. Textbook. She understood. Now a married woman it would have been rude to not fill in the expected gap of such a well-seasoned narrative.

Karen dusted off her words with a final, off the cuff line, as she approached the filing cabinet. "Sometimes we need that support to get us through, right? We can do most things with the right people there."

It was delivered with such confidence as she closed the filing cabinet drawer, and took the last of the documents off of Rachel.

"Very true," offered Rachel, in a comfortable response. Maybe the world was trying to tell her something. Or test her. One of the two.

"Although it has been strange to order my own children about. I don't think they take their mum being headteacher too favourably."

It was a comment that quietly rumbled Rachel. One day, she'd have to navigate this and it filled her gut with mild horror. She hid this thought under her signature smile - the perfect facade for any emotion she wished to hide. Thankfully, it worked on Karen, though it seemed to arm her with enough confidence to load up her next question.

"Do you have children?"

"Oh…," Rachel said aloud, quickly gathering her thoughts; a smile. "No." Not yet.

She wondered how their conversation had broached to such a personal level. It wasn't her intention. Another smile beamed. Rachel hoped it was enough to placate the older woman's friendly-yet-unnecessary interrogation. Maybe Karen didn't have anyone to talk to, and instead their meeting was a form of cathartic outpouring; therapy. Whatever it was, Rachel didn't need it. Thankfully, in perfect timing, the door knocked.

"Come in!" called Karen, her confident, professional persona firmly back in place. For Rachel it felt strange to now be the bystander in the very space where she was once in command. She was now fondly redundant.

"Sorry, only me…" Chris smiled at the two women in front of him. It was a strange sight - his ex-boss, confidant, next to his new boss who he was still warming to. His attention quickly turned to Rachel. "Thought we could grab a coffee before you go?" he mentioned to Rachel.

"Yeah, great," Rachel smiled. She turned to Karen, before beginning to grab her things. "Let me know if you need anything else…"

"Of course. And thank you - really."

/

The kettle boiled, rattling loudly in the empty staffroom. Kids in classes, the school was eerily quiet. They were huddled in the kitchenette, just like old times. Chris one side, Rachel the other. The rule was that Chris always made the coffee. It was an agreement borne out of his reluctance to do the quarterly financial forecast. He was never great with numbers, yet neither was Rachel. However, a few humorous jabs later and he had managed to trade that duty with Rachel for the role of being her life-long workplace coffee maker. Rachel ensured she rinsed his offer. 8am sharp Chris always had a coffee ready on her desk by the time she walked in. Like a faithful servant; dutiful deputy. He was a good hire.

"Jennifer called the other day. Said you were going to do some consultancy work for her with the LEA," Chris began. The water clashed in the coffee cups.

"Mhmm," Rachel agreed. "Not for a while though. She wouldn't let me get away without committing to that one…"

Jennifer had a fondness for Rachel; a respect for her capabilities. Truthfully she didn't want her to resign, particularly after dealing with all the Max drama. She had offered Rachel a long list of offers in an attempt to make her reconsider: split responsibilities, a second deputy, and more money, but Rachel politely declined. Despite the temptations Rachel knew that the reality would not be so dreamy. It was still her signature that needed to be plastered over mountains of paperwork, and her deliberation that was required over every school incident. She needed a break.

"I've got a few things to do first."

"Where is it next, then?"

"I don't know yet, we've just got home. We'll decide on a whim probably."

"Lucky sod," he quipped, with joking affection. He was so glad that Rachel seemed so happy. Free. "Remember us in the gulag, won't you."

"I'll try," Rachel quipped, jibing at him.

Their conversations always seemed to border on flirtatious. To an outsider, it was likely on the verge of inappropriate - a cheeky, reasonably good looking guy and his now-married boss. But between them it was playful; a mutual understanding. Comfortable. It was never to go any further beyond that one slip up. That was something to never be spoken of again.

"How is Kim doing?" he asked, perhaps a little nervously. He knew Rachel and Kim had gotten very close over the last six months, and he was still very much aware of his brooding feelings for Kim. He kicked himself; disappointed. He was hung up, not that he'd admit it.

"She's ok… steady," Rachel began, unsure on how much to divulge. "But reality is starting to bite…"

Chris glanced up from the sugar jar, catching Rachel's glance. This was surprising news to him.

"Oh?"

"Max." She confirmed quietly, under her breath. "I'm not sure how he found out, but he knows about Dexter."

They both took a moment to reflect on this. After a mild pause, Chris gave her a speculative look, realising he had something important to say. Rachel narrowed her eyes at him quietly, all knowing, ushering him on. Chris took a quick glance across the staffroom to confirm they were still alone.

"It was the divorce hearing."

"What?"

"Jennifer. She was here not long ago, doing budgets and staffing with Karen and I. We heard that morning that Kim wasn't coming back…" he started, recalling each event, gradually. "Jennifer started on the paperwork ahead of me and saw you had placed Kim on maternity leave. She must have put it together herself…." Chris trailed off. To Rachel, it clicked. Oh shit. At this moment Rachel kicked herself for not realising this sooner.

"Then I was chatting to one of my mates. He's ex-John Fosters and still friendly with Jen. He said she used it as grounds in their divorce hearing. Jennifer had no idea that Max didn't know."

"Oh god…" Rachel sighed.

"Has Max said anything?"

"He is wanting to see Dexter. He sent Kim a barrage of texts. I assume he'll want some sort of legal responsibility, I'm sure."

"How's Kim handling it?"

"Not well, as you'd expect. She had to take respite with Adam and I not long ago," she trailed off, before filling in the context. "Max had turned up at her place."

"And I thought it couldn't get any worse," Chris was attempting to keep his emotions in check while his blood boiled under the surface. "I should've stopped Jennifer when she picked up that paperwork. I should have handled it myself before she got to it."

"He was bound to find out someday, Chris," Rachel comforted. "Paperwork or not. It's all too close to home. Don't punish yourself for that."

Between them, they were careful not to betray their friend, but also recognised the truth of the situation. As Chris parted his lips to speak,

The bell rang.

It saved him from a disservice; more commentary full of undue self-blame. The shrill of the bell cut through them both, and activity began to rumble in the near distance. A harmonious, faint dragging of chairs and unintelligible mutters from the first students pouring into the hallways. The staffroom door clunked open.

"Who's this stranger then?" Tom exclaimed as he entered the room, making his way to Rachel. "I didn't expect to see you in the trenches again so soon."

"I'm not staying," Rachel laughed, embracing Tom with a quick half hug. "Just paperwork, formalities."

"You look well," Tom added.

It was an inoffensive, friendly observation from Tom but it was yet another that placed her on edge. Did everyone just know? There were numerous times in this staffroom where she felt to be totally transparent and readable. The eyes of Steph Haydock burned through her more times than she could count. The odd quip from Grantley would often nearly tip her over the edge, but she always thought she had rebutted those well. Maybe she hadn't at all. Maybe the entire staff body knew of her weaknesses and faults all along, and all it took was a simple look at her to know that her professional front was all an act.

"Thank you," Rachel dismissed Tom, kindly, before dutifully doing the rounds with the other staff for the very last time.