Impossible to Forget(57)

Still, she thought, he had to know more about it than she did. She pushed her doubts to the further reaches of her mind and prepared to concentrate.

There was a noise to her left, the classroom door opening and closing. Somebody was late. Hope didn’t bother turning to look, hoping that whoever it was would settle themselves quickly and with a minimum of fuss, but then someone spoke to her.

‘Sorry. Can you shift your stuff so I can sit down?’

There were plenty of other places free and not encumbered with obvious defence mechanisms such as her bag, so why had this person picked her to disturb? She turned to look at the woman and got as close to a snarl as she dared in a full room of people, hoping that that would be enough to put her off and send her scuttling to another desk. It was likely that wherever they sat tonight would end up being their places for the entire course, given what creatures of habit people were. She didn’t want to get stuck with someone for the entire thirty weeks.

But her less-than-welcoming expression made not a jot of difference. The woman just stood there, waiting for her to remove her things from the other chair and seeming oblivious to the vibes that she was radiating. If Hope had not been so irritated, she would have been impressed by her sheer front. People were turning in their seats to see why the newcomer wasn’t sitting down and so, reluctantly, Hope removed her bag and slotted it in at her feet. The woman threw her a grateful smile and sat down, but made no effort to get anything out to help with her studies. She just leant back in her chair and turned her attention to the front of the room.

‘Can I borrow some paper? And a pen, maybe?’ she whispered.

Hope rolled her eyes, but tore a couple of sheets out of the back of her A4 pad and took a biro out of her pencil case. She passed them across without making eye contact with the woman.

Carl pressed on with a brief overview of the various modules of the course, and at eight thirty he proposed that they stop for a comfort break, pointing out where the coffee machines were in the building.

‘Back in fifteen please, people,’ he called over the sound of chairs being scraped on the lino.

Hope cringed.

‘Did he just call us “people”?’ asked her neighbour, and for the first time Hope turned to look at her.

She was older than Hope. She wasn’t that great at ages, but she would place the woman closer to fifty than forty, although she had great skin and her hair was a rich auburn with no greys and looked entirely natural. She was wearing clothing that Hope would describe as either eccentric or hippy depending on her mood, with lots of unusual chunky jewellery in bright colours.

‘I fear he did,’ she said, giving the woman a mock grimace.

‘God,’ said the woman. ‘What an idiot. I hope he knows his stuff or I’m out of here. The last thing I need is to be patronised by some bloke who has chosen to teach adult education courses for a living.’

Having said out loud what Hope would only ever have thought, the woman now had Hope’s full attention.

‘I thought the same,’ replied Hope. ‘I’m Hope, by the way.’

She lifted her baseball cap a little so she could make eye contact with the woman. She generally wore a cap. It stopped people staring. She braced herself for the woman’s response to her. It always happened when she first met people, and sometimes for many meetings beyond then, and she didn’t consider herself to be arrogant to expect it. It was just something that had to be got out of the way.

‘I’m Angie,’ said the woman. And then, ‘Oh my God, you’re so beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever met such a gorgeous-looking person.’

For once it was Hope who was wrong-footed. Her looks prompted a number of responses but ones quite as direct as this were rare.

She lowered her eyes modestly. ‘Thanks,’ she said.

‘I bet it’s a pain in the arse, being so bloody jaw-dropping,’ Angie said. ‘It must get in the way a lot, like being really rich. I suppose it makes it hard to work out who likes you for you and who just wants to be near you for other reasons.’

Hope just stared at her, open-mouthed. This woman’s perception was startling.

‘Precisely!’ she said. ‘That’s spot on, actually. Do you know, no one has ever articulated it quite like that before?’

‘And you won’t be able to say it because if you did, you’d come across as all “Poor me. No one understands how I suffer for being so stunning.”’ Angie pulled a ‘woe is me’ face that made Hope smile. ‘I have the same problem,’ Angie continued, sucking her cheeks in and pouting so that she looked more like a goldfish than a supermodel.

They both laughed.

‘Do you want to get some coffee from that vending machine he mentioned?’ Hope asked, but Angie shook her head.

‘I don’t do caffeine,’ she said.

‘What? Not at night or not ever?’ Hope asked, aghast.

‘Not ever,’ replied Angie. ‘I aim for as pure a diet as I can get, so no chemicals or stimulants, artificial or otherwise.’

‘Blimey,’ said Hope. ‘That’s impressive. No alcohol either, then?’

Angie shook her head. ‘Nope. I had a baby twelve years ago and I just decided that I needed to make some changes. Nothing like that has passed my lips since.’

‘I won’t tell you about my daily coffee consumption then.’ Hope laughed. ‘It would make your eyes water. So, I assume you’re here because you’re setting up a business?’