At the Edge of the World
Snow packed into Rosies boots and stung her skin.
She wasnt about to buy wellingtons, not when shed rather have knee-high bootsthough she knew shed look ridiculous stomping through these English lanes in them. Not that it mattered, as her father had frozen her bank card anyway.
Are you really planning to live in a village? he asked, curling his lip in disdain.
Her father loathed the countryside, hated spending time outdoors, disliked anywhere lacking the conveniences of city life. Gareth was just the same, and thats precisely why Rosie was on her way to the village. Truthfully, she didnt want to settle therealthough she loved camping and the cosiness that came with open fires and starry evenings, all things her dad detested.
But village life wasnt for her. Still, to her father, she said the opposite.
I want to. And I will.
Dont be ridiculous. What will you do there, twist cows tails? Id hoped you and Gareth would marry this summer. Id imagined us planning a wedding
A wedding. Her dad had been pressing Gareth on her like cold leftover porridgeso lumpy it made Rosie feel sick for hours afterwards.
Outwardly, Gareth wasnt awfulin fact, he was rather good-looking: a straight nose, bright eyes under neat brows, gently wavy hair, sturdy build. He was her fathers right-hand man at work, and her dad was desperate for his daughter to marry such a suitable, reliable fellow.
Rosie couldnt stand him. His droning voice grated on her nerves, as did his stubby fingers always fiddling with something, not to mention his endless bragging about the cost of his suits, watches, car
Money, money, money! That seemed to be all anyone cared about. Rosie wanted lovefeelings that took her breath away, just like in stories. Shed never felt that sweep of emotion, but she trusted it would come. She was easily enamoured, found herself attracted to boys here and there, but these crushes never scarred her soul. She wanted drama, wanted heartache, not the easy, predictable Gareth. Thats why moving to a remote village to teach at the small school seemed a wonderful idea. Gareth would never follow. Hed be terrified by patchy internet, no hot water, and no flush toilets.
Rosie made sure to pick a spot with none of those luxuries. The headteacher hesitated to hire herworried she wouldnt lastbut the previous teacher had passed away suddenly, and Rosie was persistent, showing all her certificates and qualifications at the County Council.
And whats such a skilled young teacher going to do in our village? the stern woman with vividly ginger hair asked.
Teach children, Rosie replied, just as resolutely.
And teach them she did. She lived in a cottage with no central heating and no indoor plumbing; she had to light her own fire just to keep warm. As shed expected, Gareth visited for one night and then scarpered. He called, pleaded with her to return, but both he and her father saw this as a passing phase shed soon grow out of.
At first, Rosie adored the place. Then winter arrived, and her house chilled overnight so badly she was cold even beneath the duvet; hauling firewood turned out to be exhausting. She wished she could go home, if she were honest, but she refused to give in. Besides, she now had a responsibilitynot just to herself, but to her pupils.
Her class was small, only twelve children. Rosie was shocked at first; back in the citys childrens centre where shed previously worked, the kids were switched-on, creative. Here Her heart sank. Year Three, but most stumbled over words when reading, barely did their homework, and made endless noise in lessons. But only at first. Soon, Rosie fell in love with them.
Simon carved little woodland animals from local timbergorgeous foxes, badgers, rabbits and bears that would not look out of place in any London toyshop. Annie wrote shimmering blank verse; Billy always helped tidy the classroom after school; Ivy had a lamb that followed her to school like a dog.
As it turned out, the children could readno one had given them the right books or encouragement before. Rosie ignored the standard curriculum and brought her own selection, trekking to the next town for them, as there was barely any internet, so ordering online was impossible.
She only struggled to reach one childand it was this girls father whom Rosie saw as she squinted through the snow, arms full of wood for the fire.
Good afternoon, Miss Campbell, he said, stopping a few paces from the gate.
Rosie found him intimidating, if she were honest. His face was rough, weather-worn, never smilinga bit like a character from a crime drama. Her heart hammered so loudly she feared hed notice and realise she was scaredor was she?
Hello, she managed, voice higher than shed meant.
Why does Tanya only get failing marks?
Because she wont do any work.
So make her. Whos the teacher hereme or you?
Rosie was the teacher, but had no intention to force Tanya. The girl almost certainly had autism and required specialist support.
Has it always been this way? Rosie asked, just in case.
Vladimir hesitated.
No, not always. She used to do everything with Olivia.
And whos Olivia?
He grimaced, like he too had snow in his boots.
Her mother.
Rosie realised instantly what the next answer would be, but had to ask.
And where is she now?
At the cemetery.
There it wasthe answer her father would have called ‘obvious as day’.
Standing there awkwardly, arms aching with wood, Rosie wanted to say something, but felt too embarrassed. When the top log slipped and smashed against her foot, she dropped the lot and blinked back tearshalf from pain, half from humiliation in front of a grown man. Silly, really, given she was grown-up herself, but she didnt feel it.
Let me help, Vladimir offered.
No, no, Im fine, Rosie protested.
I can see that he said, tossing a log, fixing the door so it no longer stuck.
If you need anything, just ask, he said, and walked off.
Why had he come? Did he think fetching her a few armfuls of wood would earn Tanya a passing grade? Hardly
Rosie couldnt stop thinking about the girl. For days she tried every trick she knew, torn between professional frustration and pity for Tanya. She even spoke to the deputy head.
Oh, its hopeless. Just give her the failing marks, and well transfer her to a special school in summer.
Transfer?
Well send her for assessment, see if they declare her learning disabled. Not much else we can do.
But her father says she
Doesnt matter what he says. Her mum managed, but he cant. Dont listen to his stories
You dont like him, do you? Rosie guessed.
The deputy pursed her lips.
Hes not exactly made to be liked or dislikedits the kid that matters. She needs the proper support.
Rosie wasnt satisfied. She didnt think Tanya should simply be sent away, so she called her favourite educational advisor, Ms Dawes, then braced herself to visit Tanyas home. She was nervousmade herself herbal tea, though she didnt much like it. Her own mother had always drunk chamomile to calm herself; Rosies mum had passed away too, which made Tanyas story cut close to home.
Vladimir greeted her without much enthusiasmshed imagined hed be glad Rosie wanted to help.
We dont take visitors, he said stiffly.
Rosie pursed her lips just like the deputy and announced she was expected to check up on her pupils welfare.
Tanyas room was lovely: pink wallpaper, cuddly toys everywhere, stacks of books. Rosie envied them; her father hated fuss and colour, insisted her own childhood bedroom be beige, her toys matching.
Nothing much happened during her first visit. Rosie asked about favourite books, flicked through them, asked if Tanya had any pencils. Tanya silently brought them; said nothing about the books. Only when Rosie asked the name of Tanyas pink rabbit did she answer: Flopsy.
Next time, Rosie brought Flopsy a jumper. Her mum had taught her to knit, and Rosie kept up the hobby in memorythough she wasnt especially good, and the yarn was unfortunately chunky. But Tanya was delighted, tried it on Flopsy, and said, Pretty.
Rosie suggested they draw Flopsy in the new jumper. Tanya agreed. Rosie wrote the rabbits name, deliberately upside downand Tanya corrected the spelling.
She wasnt slow at all.
Ill visit Tanya three times a week, Rosie told Vladimir.
I cant afford extra lessons, he grumbled.
I dont want paying, Rosie retorted, a little offended.
Thats how they left it.
The deputy, when she heard about these visits, wasnt pleased.
You cant single out one childits unprofessional! And pointless, trust me. Ive seen plenty like her.
I have too, Rosie cut in. And its too soon to give up.
Tanya really was differentshe was mostly silent, avoided eye contact, preferred drawing to writing. But she was good at sums, picked up grammar quickly. By the end of term, Rosie didn’t need to fudge her marksthey were genuine passes.
Will you go away for Christmas? Vladimir asked, avoiding her eyes just like Tanya did.
Not at all, Rosie answered, feeling her cheeks flush.
Tanya wants to invite you.
It caught Rosie off guardTanya hadnt said anything. But she hardly said much of anything. Rosie didnt want to hurt the girl, nor did she fancy spending Christmas with relative strangers.
Thank you. Ill think about it, she replied.
That night, Rosie slept fitfully, unable to pin down why she felt so unsettled. Shed worked with Tanya for a month now; naturally, the child had opened up a little. Wasnt that what Rosie had wanted? Why did it matter so much what Vladimir thought
The next morning, Gareth rang.
When will you be coming back?
What?
Well, for Christmas! Surely you wont spend it in your little cottage?
I will, actually!
Rosie Isnt it time you came home? Dads blood pressures all over the place, hes at his wits end.
Her father hadnt called once.
He should see the doctor, Rosie snapped.
So you really arent coming?
No.
Right So, what am I supposed to do?
Whatever you like!
Rosie didnt think Gareth would take that literallybut he did. He arrived bearing champagne, salads, and presents.
If the mountain wont come to Mohammed he joked.
Rosie was surprised, in a not entirely bad way. Shed never imagined Gareth could stoop to thishe preferred celebrating at swanky places with competitions and live music. Not here, where she didnt even own a telly.
Well, never mind. So long as youre here, thats whats important.
Rosie looked for deception, but found none. Had she misjudged him so badly?
She thawed completely when she found her favourite dishes in containers, and in the gift wrapteaching books, a projector, and a planner for teachers.
Thank you, she said, touched. I thought youd get me jewellery and gadgets as usual.
Gareth smiled.
Ive realisedyoure the most precious thing I have. If you want village life, Ill live it with you, no matter what. I brought jewellery too, just in case
He produced a velvet box. Its contents were obvious.
Do you mind if I dont answer just yet? Rosie asked.
Gareth wasnt hurt.
I was afraid youd just say no. Ill wait as long as you need.
Rosie was at a loss, tucking the box away.
Vladimir had her mobile number, but he rang the landline.
Have you decided? he asked.
Sorry A friend has come to visit.
I see.
And hung up.
Rosie instantly felt dreadful. What sort of tone was thatI see? What did he see? Shed promised nothing, so why take offence? Was he offended? Probably, about Tanya. What parent wouldnt mind their child being let down?
Her head spun with worry. Gareth noticed nothing, still struggling to get internet for a Christmas film.
Rosie heard a whistlethe call for the dog. She remembered Vladimirs distinctive whistle. She peered out the window. Vladimir and Tanya were at the gate.
Her face burned.
Whos that? Gareth demanded.
My pupil, Rosie whispered. Ill be right back.
Shed prepared a gift for Tanyaa companion for Flopsy, a pink rabbit girl. Her dad would have called it gaudy.
Rosie had even made a present for Vladimirknitted mittens. She wasnt sure she should give them, but had made them anyway.
She grabbed her gifts and ran outside, bareheaded, with cold legs and snow filling her bootsnot that she cared.
Hello Tanya! Rosie called, nervously. Happy Christmas! LookIve got something for you.
She handed Tanya the bag. Tanya pulled out the rabbit, hugged it tightly, and glanced at her father. Vladimir handed Rosie two parcelsone large, one small. Tanya opened the large one first: inside was a scrapbook covered in Tanyas own drawings, making a comic.
Thank you, its wonderful!
The small package contained a brooch shaped like a tiny golden robin. Rosie glanced at Vladimirhe wasnt looking at her. Tanya said:
It was Mums.
Rosie felt a lump in her throat.
Well, we should get going, Vladimir said, gruffly.
Of course. Happy Christmas!
Happy Christmas to you too
Rosie wanted to hug Tanya, but didnt darethe girl stood with her new toy clutched tight, silent.
At the gate, Rosie turned to look back. Something squeezed her chest at the sight of those two figures, and she blinked away tears as she went back inside.
So, what was all that about? Gareth asked, annoyed.
Rosie looked at the scrapbook and the brooch in her hand. Remembered shed forgotten to give Vladimir the mittens. Remembered Tanya saying Mums And recalled the rare, infectious smile Vladimir wore only when he looked at his daughter. Something inside her crumbled and bloomed, all at once.
She felt sorry for Gareth, but lying to him or herself was pointless.
Rosie pulled the velvet box from her pocket, handed it back to Gareth and said, Go home. Im sorryI cant marry you. Truly, Im sorry.
Gareths face fell. He wasnt used to being refused.
For a moment, Rosie wondered if he might lash outbut he only tucked the box away, grabbed his car keys and left in silence.
Rosie quickly packed the food into containers, grabbed the mittens shed knitted for Vladimir, and hurried after the people who, though neither her family nor friends, were exactly who she needed now.
And as she walked out across the snowy lane, Rosie realised that courage doesnt always look like a grand gesture or perfect choices. Sometimes it simply means being honest with yourself, letting go of whats safe, and reaching out with kindnesseven across wintry divides.
