In one of the breaks next day Sture came over to me.
‘Can I have a word with you?’ he said, scratching his bald pate.
‘Of course,’ I said.
‘I’d just like to give you a bit of advice,’ he said. ‘About the third and fourth years. I heard you covered the whole cosmos with them yesterday. .’
‘Yes?’ I said.
‘They’re very small, you know. It might not be a bad idea to start at the other end. Make a map of the school here, for example. And then one of the village. And then one of the island. Do you see what I mean? Start with the known and work outwards, to Norway, Europe and the world. And then you can tackle the cosmos. If you’re still here, of course!’
He grinned and winked at me so as to appear more of a friend and less of an authority figure. But this was not advice; this was a rebuke. When I met his eyes, my blood was boiling.
‘I’ll give that some thought,’ I said, then turned and went.
I was furious while being embarrassed at the same time because I could see he was right. They were so small, probably they hadn’t understood a thing, and what had been exciting for me when I was ten was not necessarily exciting for them.
In the staffroom I didn’t want to talk to anyone, so I sat down at my workstation and pretended I was reading until the bell rang and I could go out to my pupils.
It was strange, I thought, standing by the desk and waiting for them to saunter in, it was strange that I should feel more at home among the pupils than among the teachers in the staffroom.
But where were they?
I walked over to the window. There wasn’t a soul in the area between the two buildings. Were they on the football pitch perhaps?
I looked up at the clock. It was already five minutes since the bell had rung. Something must have happened, I thought, and walked down the corridor to the door. Sture came striding along from the other end. He opened the door and went out, I followed and saw him break into a run.
There was a fight. Two of the boys had their arms wrapped round each other, one was thrown to the ground, he got back to his feet. Around them stood a cluster of pupils watching. They were completely silent. Behind them lay the village, behind that the mountains and the sea.
I broke into a run as well, mostly for appearance’s sake because I knew Sture would sort this out and I was glad.
The two boys fighting were Stian and Kai Roald. Stian was stronger, it was him who had thrown Kai Roald to the ground, but Kai Roald wouldn’t give in and flew at him again.
Both stopped the moment Sture reached them. He grabbed Stian by the back of his jacket and held him at arm’s length while he bawled him out. Stian hung his head like a dog. He wouldn’t have done that with me, that was for certain.
I came to a halt in front of them.
Kai Roald was looking at the ground. The knees and tops of his trousers were filthy. His eyes were wet with tears.
‘What are you doing?’ I said. ‘Are you fighting?’
‘Oh, shut up,’ he said.
I placed my hand on his shoulder. He wrenched himself away.
‘Come on, let’s go in,’ I said, then looked at the others in the class. ‘And you lot! What are you doing out here? You haven’t even been fighting!’
Kai Roald peered up at me as if he had been expecting a punishment but now he could see there wasn’t going to be one.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Let’s go. Kai Roald, you go to the washroom and clean yourself up. You look a sight.’
Sture’s class was already by the door.
‘Any blood?’ he asked me.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Just snot and dirt.’
~ ~ ~
We talked a bit about what had happened; when Kai Roald came back I told him he could fight as much as he wanted as long as he didn’t do it on school premises. At the weekends you can fight from the moment you get up until you go to bed, and in the afternoons too, but not at school. Can you manage that? I said. He shook his head. It was Stian who started it, he said. OK, I said. You’ll have to settle your differences with him when you get home. But not here. If it happens again I’ll have to punish you, do you understand? And it isn’t worth that. Wait a few hours and you can do whatever you like. Now, though, I’m afraid we’ll have to start the lesson. You have to learn as well, all of you. Especially you, I said. You don’t know anything!
The four girls sent me a particularly sulky expression.
‘Nothing at all!’ I said. ‘So, get out your books.’
‘And how much do you bloody know?’ Hildegunn said.
Vivian and Andrea laughed.
I raised a forefinger.
‘No swearing! I don’t want to hear that in the classroom.’
‘But everyone swears in Northern Norway,’ Vivian said.
‘The same rule applies to swearing as fighting,’ I said. ‘Swear as much as you like at home. But not here. I’m serious. I mean it. Right. You can carry on with the exercises you started last time. Page thirteen onwards. If you need any help I’m here. At the beginning of the next lesson we’ll go through any problems that arise. OK?’
I went to the window, leaned against the frame and crossed my arms. Heard Nils Erik’s voice at the other end of the open-plan block; he had English with the fourth class. I thought of Stian, saw that cheeky smile of his in my mind’s eye, and saw the girls in the class, their eyes watching his every movement. They admired him, I was fully aware of that. Perhaps they even dreamed about him?
They probably did.
The thought smarted. He was just a little shit.
I went to my desk, glanced at Hege, who had taken her pupils over to the little library corner, where they sat on cushions in a circle around her and listened while she read.
She noticed that I was watching, looked across and smiled. I smiled back, sat down at the desk, thumbed through the textbook to see what I could do in the next lesson.
When I looked up again my eyes met Andrea’s. Blood suffused her cheeks. I smiled. She raised her hand and lowered her gaze. I got to my feet and went over to her.
‘What do you need help with?’ I said.
‘This bit,’ she said, pointing. ‘Have I done it right?’
I leaned forward and went through what she had written. She sat motionless, following my finger as it moved down the page. A faint fragrance redolent of apples emanated from her. It had to be the shampoo she used, I thought, and felt a quiver spread through my chest. Her breathing, the hair that fell over her face, her eyes staring through it. All so close.
‘We-ell,’ I said. ‘It looks right to me.’
‘Does it?’ she said, looking up at me. When our eyes met I straightened up.
‘Yes, it does,’ I said. ‘Stick at it!’
No one was in the staffroom when I entered after the lesson. It was only when I had sat down that I noticed Torill — she was in the kitchenette buttering a slice of bread.
‘Have you had a free period?’ I said.
She nodded and took a bite, holding a finger up while she chewed and swallowed.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But I’ve been busy preparing for my next lessons!’
‘Right,’ I said, reaching over for the newspaper on the table. As I browsed through it I was aware of her movements. The slice of bread that went up to her mouth and down again as she scurried around.
She leaned forward and opened the fridge door. I looked up. She was wearing a pair of black stretch pants. I examined her thighs so clearly outlined in them, and her bottom. It was broad but not too broad; on the contrary, it was curvaceous and so utterly feminine.