Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Playlist
1- Joss
2 - Sam
3 - Connor
4 - Summer
5 - Joss
6 - Connor
7 - Alex
8 - Sam
9 - Joss
10 - Sam
11 - Connor
12 - Joss
13 - Summer
14 - Sam
15 - Joss
16 - Alex
17 - Summer
18 - Connor
19 - Sam
20 - Joss
21 - Summer
22 - Sam
23 - Joss
24 - Sam
25 - Summer
26 - Alex
27 - Joss
28 - Sam
29 - Connor
30 - Alex
31 - Summer
32 - Sam
33 - Joss
34 - Connor
35 - Summer
36 - Joss
37 - Alex
38 - Sam
39 - Summer
40 - Sam
41 - Joss
42 - Connor
43 - Alex
44 - Summer
45 - Joss
46 - Connor
47 - Summer
48 - Sam
Tainted Love
Michelle Betham
Copyright © Michelle Betham 2017
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, without the prior permission of the author.
The story, characters and events in this book are a work of the author’s imagination, and are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to any person, place, name or actual event is entirely coincidental.
Cover Image - iStock
Table of Contents
Playlist
1- Joss
2 - Sam
3 - Connor
4 - Summer
5 - Joss
6 - Connor
7 - Alex
8 - Sam
9 - Joss
10 - Sam
11 - Connor
12 - Joss
13 - Summer
14 - Sam
15 - Joss
16 - Alex
17 - Summer
18 - Connor
20 - Joss
21 - Summer
22 - Sam
23 - Joss
24 - Sam
25 - Summer
26 - Alex
27 - Joss
28 - Sam
29 - Connor
30 - Alex
31 - Summer
32 - Sam
33 - Joss
34 - Connor
35 - Summer
36 - Joss
37 - Alex
38 - Sam
39 - Summer
40 - Sam
41 - Joss
42 - Connor
43 - Alex
44 - Summer
45 - Joss
46 - Connor
47 - Summer
48 - Sam
49 - Alex
50 - Summer
51 - Joss
52 - Connor
53 - Summer
54 - Alex
55 - Sam
56 - Joss
57 - Alex
58 - Summer
59 - Alex
60 - Joss
61 - Connor
62 - Sam
63 - Summer
64 - Joss
65 - Alex
66 - Connor
67 - Joss
68 - Sam
69 - Joss
70 - Alex
71 - Joss
72 - Alex
73 - Connor
74 - Alex
75 - Joss
76 - Alex
77 - Joss
78 - Alex
79 - Sam
80 - Joss
81 - Alex
82 - Connor
83 - Joss
84 - Sam
85 - Joss
86 - Connor
87 - Summer
88 - Sam
89 - Joss
90 - Connor
91 - Summer
92 - Alex
93 - Sam
94 - Connor
95 - Joss
96 - Summer
97 - Joss
98 - Sam
99 - Joss
100 - Connor
101 - Joss
102 - Summer
103 - Alex
104 - Sam
105 - Connor
106 - Joss
107 - Summer
108 - Joss
109 - Alex
110 - Sam
111 - Connor
112 - Joss
113 - Alex
114 - Connor
115 - Sam
116 - Alex
117 - Summer
118 - Joss
119 - Sam
120 - Alex
121 - Joss
122 - Connor
123 - Alex
124 - Sam
125 - Summer
126 - Joss
127 - Alex
128 - Joss
129 - Summer
130 - Joss
131 - Sam
132 - Summer
133 - Alex
134 - Sam
135 - Summer
136 - Joss
137 - Sam
138 - Joss
139 - Sam
140 - Summer
141 - Connor
142 - Joss
About the Author
Also by the Author
Contact the Author
Playlist
Big Mistake – Natalie Imbruglia
Let Me Out – The Veronicas
The Big Bang – Katy Tiz
Bad Things – Jace Everett
Disconnected – Lindsay Lohan
Catch Me – Demi Lovato
Lay All Your Love On Me – ABBA
A Beautiful Life – Jody Watley
Private Emotion – Ricky Martin, Meja
Runaway – Janet Jackson
Hate That I Love You - Rihanna, Ne-Yo
In Another Life – The Veronicas
You can find the complete ‘Tainted Love’ Playlist over on Spotify.
http://bit.ly/TaintedLovePlaylist
1
Joss
I love my kitchen. It’s cosy, warm; it’s comforting. Dark wooden floorboards, hand-crafted cupboards, a large round table in the corner next to a huge welsh dresser. I’ve even got a pantry. I always wanted a pantry. My grandmother had a pantry, even though my dad used to say it was nothing more than a glorified cupboard. I like my glorified cupboard. I love my life. It’s a bit like my kitchen, really – cosy. Comforting. Familiar.
“We’re going to be late if we don’t get a move on, Joss. Are you ready?”
Sam comes rushing into the kitchen, his arms full of notebooks, a slightly flustered expression on his face. Sam Coburn. My husband. Ready for work in his tracksuit bottoms and T-shirt.
Sam.
Handsome. Smart. Funny. We’ve been together over sixteen years now, married for thirteen, and he still makes me laugh. I still love him as much as the first day I met him.
“I’ve been ready since seven 0’clock. It’s you who’s running late.”
He looks at me and shrugs, throws me a half smile as he swipes a slice of toast from my plate, winking as he shoves most of it in his mouth all in one go.
“You’re such a pig sometimes, do you know that?”
“Yeah. But you still find it sexy, right?”
He winks again,
but I don’t answer him. I pick up my books, my bag and my phone and I usher him out of the door. He’s right. If we don’t get a move on we are going to be late. And I’ve never been late for school. Not once. Not ever.
2
Sam
She’s way more organised than I’ll ever be. Joss. Mrs Coburn. History teacher. My wife. Every teenage boy’s secret crush, understandably so. If I was fifteen again I’d make sure I was always hanging around in the corridor, just so I could watch her walk past, man, she has the sexiest arse! Not the reason I married her, of course. Well, not the only reason.
I slam the car door shut, which puts me on the receiving end of one of Joss’s death stares. She’s always telling me not to slam the door like that, but it’s just habit. And I’m not good at breaking habits. Especially the bad ones.
We walk across the yard, weaving in between teenagers loitering in groups, huddled together, heads bent over their mobile phones. Doesn’t anyone talk to each other anymore?
I glance at Joss out the corner of my eye as a group of boys yell something wholly inappropriate at her, even though I’m right there beside her. Her husband. Mr Coburn. Head of the Physical Education department. Science teacher. The man who gets to live out their wet dreams, for real. Horny fuckers. But they mean no harm. To them it’s just banter, and despite its inappropriate content, given their age and Joss’s position, she treats it as just that, flicking them the finger behind her back as she walks past. Which they love, of course, it’s attention. They crave attention, no matter what kind, and that’s exactly what Joss has given them. But she knows how to handle them. She knows how to handle anything. My wife…
3
Connor
Millers Bridge is very different to the last school I ran. The first one I was ever in charge of. That one was in a fairly run-down area, on the outskirts of south London. The kids were disillusioned; distracted. It was a hopeless place, for the first few months I was there. But I turned it around, with the help of great staff and students who finally realised the whole world wasn’t against them. It was, in fact, just waiting for them to go out there and grab it by the balls.
My job there, though, is done. An amazing teacher called Gary Banks now runs that school, continuing the legacy I created. And now I’m here, hundreds of miles away in North East England. Newcastle-upon-Tyne, to be exact. I’m here, running a school that, basically, ticks along quite nicely. It doesn’t need my help. It doesn’t need me. I need it…
4
Summer
“Savvi! Savvi, come on, you’re going to be late! Savannah!”
“All right, Jesus! I’m coming.”
I stand at the bottom of the stairs, watching as my soon-to-be-eighteen-year-old daughter comes thundering down them, her white-blonde hair pulled back from her pretty face in a messy ponytail.
“And don’t call me Savannah.”
“That’s what it says on your birth certificate.”
She just throws me a look.
“Savannah is a beautiful name.”
She doesn’t respond. She sits down on the bottom stair, shoving her books into her bag, checking her phone, she rarely puts the thing down.
“You need to get going, Savvi. The bus is due in five minutes.”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
“Have you got money for lunch?”
“Yes.”
She leans in to me, quickly kissing my cheek. And she smiles, squeezing my hand before she runs to the door and leaves without another word. I smile too as I head back into the kitchen. I’ll tidy up in here, then I need to email my editor, make a few calls. And I’m teaching a yoga class this afternoon, I need to prepare for that, too.
My phone ringing jolts me from my to-do list and I pull myself up onto the countertop, crossing my legs underneath myself as I answer it.
“Hey.”
I smile at the sound of his voice. I never know when he’s going to call, we don’t make definite plans. We can’t. But hearing his voice, it always fills me with an inner peace, despite the chaos our relationship would cause if people knew about us.
“Hey. You at work?”
“I am. Another day at the coal face.”
I laugh quietly, absentmindedly picking at the hem of my skirt. “You make it sound like you hate what you do. And you don’t, I know you don’t.”
“No, I don’t. It has its moments. What are you up to today?”
“Writing. Yoga. And I might head down to amateur dramatics tonight, I haven’t decided yet.”
“I need to see you, Summer.”
I pause, just for a second. “Yeah. I need to see you, too.”
I need to see him more and more as each day goes by, and this wasn’t what we planned. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It should have been over by now, but it isn’t. Because we’re both weak, too weak to shut it down, even though we know that’s what we should do.
I can hear in the background that he isn’t alone now, so I ready myself for the call to end. For him to go back to his life and let me get on with mine.
“I have to go,” he almost whispers down the line, and I don’t even get a chance to reply before he hangs up.
I don’t normally make bad decisions. He’s one I could’ve stopped myself from making, I could have walked away; should have walked away. But I didn’t. And I don’t regret what I did.
I don’t.
Not yet…
5
Joss
“Joss, hang on. Can I have a word?”
I swing around and come face-to-face with Connor Sloane. Our new headteacher. A thirty-something hot-shot from Boston, Massachusetts who came to England to study nineteen years ago, and never went home. That’s all I really know about him. He’s a bit of a closed book, but he seems like a good man. He’s only been here, at the school, for a couple of months, but he’s already made quite an impact on the female students who see him as something quite fascinating. I’m guessing it’s the accent. But I’ve also heard him being called the hot headmaster. He’s certainly like no headteacher I ever had, let’s put it that way.
“Of course. Is something wrong?”
“No. No, nothing’s wrong… You’re not busy, are you?”
“I don’t have a class until second period. I was just on my way to the staff room to finish preparing.”
“I won’t keep you long. I promise.”
He smiles. A wide smile that reaches his eyes, and I can completely understand why it isn’t just the female students who find him fascinating. He’s made quite an impression on some staff members, too.
I follow him into his office, closing the door behind me.
He walks behind his desk but remains standing, one hand in the pocket of his perfectly cut suit pants. This is a man with great taste, I’m guessing.
“I’m sure everyone’s aware now that David Calder is retiring next week.”
David Calder. Head of Maths and a stalwart of Millers Bridge Comprehensive. He’s been here since this place was a grammar school, stayed loyal through its time as one of the best performing schools in the country. It still is, one of the best performing schools in the country, I’m proud to say. Thanks to teachers like David Calder. He’s going to be missed, by both staff and students.
“So, that means I’ll be needing a new Deputy Head.” Connor’s eyes lock on mine, but the smile he gives me this time has an almost nervous edge to it. “I’d like you to take up the position, Joss.”
“You want me to be Deputy Headteacher?”
“Yes. I do.” He walks out front of his desk and leans back against it, crossing his arms. “How long have you worked here, Joss?”
I look up to the ceiling for a second or two as I silently count the number of years I’ve been a part of this school which has, in reality, been forever. I was a student teacher here. As soon as I’d graduated I came to work here. I came, and I never left. I never wanted to. I went from trainee teacher to Head of the history department before I was thi
rty, and I’ve been very happy here, on the whole. Although no job is without its ups and downs.
“Almost seventeen years now. This is the only school I’ve ever taught in.”
Now I feel old. Have I really spent almost two decades in this place? My whole life has revolved around Millers Bridge. My best friend works here. This is where I met Sam, when he started teaching P.E. and biology a year or so after I arrived at the school. And now I’m not quite sure how I feel about that. About my whole life revolving around this place. It wasn’t something I’d ever really thought about before. Until now.
“So, you know it inside out, right?”
“I suppose I do, yes.”
He shrugs; throws me another dazzling smile. “Then you’re perfect for the job, don’t you think?”
I can’t help smiling back. “You want me that bad, huh?”
He looks at me, leaving a brief pause before he answers. “Yes. I do.” He goes back behind his desk, flipping open the lid of his laptop, and I watch as he leans forward slightly to look at the screen, his brow furrowing in concentration. “We’ll catch up later. Arrange a time to sort things out on an official basis.” He raises his gaze and his eyes meet mine, and he smiles again. He smiles a lot. I wonder what – or who – is making him so happy. “Okay?”
“Yes. Yes, that’d be good. Right, well, I’d better get back to that lesson preparation.”
I start to walk towards the door.
“Joss? Sam’s going to be all right with this, isn’t he?”
I turn back around, cocking my head slightly as I frown at him. “Why wouldn’t he be?”
“I don’t know… Joss, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound…”
“Sam will be just fine. His ego will be just fine, if that’s what you were getting at.”
He slides both hands into his pockets, briefly dropping his head. “It wasn’t… Joss, again, I’m sorry.”
“He’ll be happy for me. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
I turn back around and leave his office.
Seventeen years at this school and I finally make Deputy Head. I’m happy for me. I’m proud of me. It’s been a long time coming…
6
Connor
It isn’t a spur of the moment thing, asking Joss Coburn to become the new Deputy Head. The local authority and board of governors recommended her. She’s been loyal to this school for a long time. They want someone like her to help run the place, I want someone like her to help me run the place. And I shouldn’t have asked her about Sam, what the hell had I been thinking? I don’t even know where that came from, my staff’s private lives are their business. Not mine. Not unless they need to be.