The Devil's Due: A Cooper and McCall Scottish Crime Thriller by Ramsay Sinclair (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕

mother only comes so she can complain about my food. It’s two extra mouths to feed, without the pleasure of enjoyable company in return. Vicious cow.” Jen tended to overshare details of her married life.

“Sounds too stressful for me. I’ll probably just visit family as usual,” I answered. Truthfully, Christmas was the last thing on my mind.

“You’re welcome to come over to ours?” Jen offered sweetly, but the last thing I wanted was to be a burden.

“No,” I replied, to which Jen recoiled in shock. My gasp made up for the mistake which had flown from my lips. “No, as in, you shouldn’t have.” Luckily, Jen laughed in understanding. “Enjoy the day with your family and don’t worry about me.”

My glasses slipped down the bridge of my nose habitually. Using only my forefinger, I pushed them back up to rest in their original position. Years of reading classic novels ruined my eyesight for all it was worth.

“Crazy, you are,” Jen waved her hand in front of my face to loosen my daydream. I jumped with full force, nearly spilling hot water over my calf-length skirt. That brought that to Jen’s attention. “It’s pretty.”

“Thank you, it’s vintage.” I shrugged. “Picked it up from a charity shop with my ex. He was a gentleman with all the manners of a pig.”

Jen snorted unexpectedly. “Aren’t they all? You need waking up, you do. The real world isn’t full of George Clooney’s and Brad Pitt’s,” she warned, typically negative. Brad’s pitts weren’t precisely romantic sounding either.

“Yeah, well, you should see inside my head. Then you’d understand why I prefer it there.” I shrugged. It’s true. My own world consisted of Colin Firth from Pride and Prejudice.

“I wish my mind consisted of the rosy dreams as yours,” Jen wistfully responded. “Instead, mine is all dinner schedules and wondering how many times I’ll have to clean the bathroom instead of Mark.”

We shared a bout of laughter.

“You’ll see, Lucy. The world is dreadful,” Jen announced for dramatic effect.

The bell sounded to warn both staff and students of the time. Lunch was done and dusted, leaving only two more lesson periods before home time. Home sounded enjoyable. I was ready to read the next chapter of Little Women in peace. Yes, I had read it a thousand times before and I sought to read it a thousand times over.

“See you at home time. Meet me,” Jen instructed and bid farewell.

“Yeah, see ya later.” I nonchalantly replied.

A line of scruffy, rosy-cheeked children waited outside my classroom, disgruntled from playtime. My line up for today consisted of Lily, as sweet as her name suggested, and Jimmy Smith. The two were inseparable during school hours, avid readers and smart kids who always worked hard.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” I engaged them together chirpily.

“Hello, Miss Lucy,” they cried over each other excitedly. I loved being called ‘Miss Lucy’ instead of just my last name.

“In you go and choose a seat,” I announced, allowing them to decide who they sat with. “Handwriting. Today’s lesson we are focusing on handwriting.”

A few of the children tittered, but apart from that, they all viewed my smartboard attentively. I handed out a load of paper.

“It’s a fun task for today. I want you all to write a letter explaining what you want for Christmas,” I clarified in keeping with the festivities of the season. A lot of them cheered, putting a huge smile on my face.

“But Santa doesn’t exist,” Lily pouted, cocoa smeared all over her lips. A few children stared at her quizzically, not yet understanding that Father Christmas was a made-up figure. I, for one, did not want Lily to ruin their fun, so I played along and gasped in shock.

“Oh! Is that so?” I asked. “Then who leaves all the presents under the tree? Nobody else could deliver to everyone’s house in one night, could they?”

“I don’t know,” Lilly shrugged, deep in thought.

I pressed on, for the sake of my other students. “And what about all the mince pies, who eats them all?”

“My sister said daddy eats them all,” Lilly replied seriously.

“Nope. Everyone leaves mince pies out for Santa. Your dad can’t visit everybody’s house in one night. That would be silly,” I pretended with a bright smile. “If nobody believes in Father Christmas, his sleigh won’t fly anymore. Do we know what that means?”

“No presents!” Cameron called out.

“Exactly, so get writing before all the Christmas magic runs out,” I urged them. They all snapped to it, including Lilly, scribbling down lists I would thoroughly enjoy marking later.

The scratching of pencil lead filled my classroom, and time ticked by efficiently. Before long, the bell signalled once more to end our day perfectly. Straggles of wandering children asked for help to put on pairs of gloves before their parents arrived.

When I arrived outside, also wrapped up tightly, Jen already waited. Our breath curled up in ribbons in a festive fashion. Ruckus unfolded around us, parents telling their kids off for messing about or for newfound holes in their tights.

“Good day?” Jen sniffed, chilled down to the bone. A multicoloured scarf decorated her neck, presumably handmade from her youngest.

“Very,” I answered with a small grin and explained the Father Christmas story to my friend. She found it all entertaining.

“Hey, Daniel!” Jen cut me off, shouting to the disobedient young boy. He heard her, half the locals could, but chose to ignore her. Jen growled under her breath. “Little shit.”

“Jen!” I warned. “You can’t say that.”

“Stop climbing the gates!” Jen warned loudly. Daniel carried on climbing, oblivious to Jen’s mounting anger.

“It’s alright now. His mum’s here.” I nodded towards the stern woman marching through the gates. Sure enough, she practically pulled him down with force, paying no heed to his reluctant, attention-seeking cries.

“Finally, some peace.” Jen rolled her eyes comically, my trench coat blowing drastically with a gust of wind. Like a movie scene.

Parents came and went within thirty minutes, leaving our playground fairly scarce. Only the last remaining children were left over and the ones included in after-school