There was a palpable sense of relief when the final bell rang at the end of another school term. The children are hasty, chairs scraping on the tiled floor so that my well wishes for the coming summer break are well and truly drowned out. It’s a cacophony of noise as they excitedly leave my room, loudly talking over one another about plans for the break until the noise dwindles into the distance and I am finally left alone with my thoughts and the motes of dust in the afternoon light.
I lean back and push my glasses up to rest on my increasingly creased forehead, battle scars from a tiring and draining career. My hands drag over cheeks and into my short blonde hair, and I close eyes as my body finally relaxes. All I want to do is to curl up and sleep for the summer, perhaps see if James wants to go away somewhere. Of course he won’t want to – he was always far too busy with work. But he’s paid well, and because of the hours he sinks in we can both live comfortably in a very nice house, and I can teach what I am passionate about without having to worry about bills.