Alright, so get this, yeah? Chloe Harrison was practically begging, her voice all shaky in Headteacher Audrey Thornton’s office, clutching these crumpled papers. “Mrs. Thornton, *please*, I’m begging you! Don’t sack me! I’ve got two kids, the mortgage!”
Audrey Thornton sighed heavily. “Chloe, you forged your degree certificate. That’s a serious breach, and it means…” Chloe cut her off, tears streaming down her face. “I was going to finish my studies! Honestly! Just one more year for my dissertation at uni! Mrs. Thornton, give me a chance, please?”
The head of Cedarwood Academy looked at the young form tutor with sympathy. Chloe had been there three years now, the kids adored her, parents raved about her. But rules were rules. “Alright. You have one month to provide the genuine certificate. Otherwise…”
“Thank you! Oh, thank you so much!” Chloe rushed for the door, then turned back. “How… how did you find out?”
“County did a spot check on all staff records. The discrepancy came up.”
Charging out, Chloe almost collided with Geoffrey Wilson, the PE teacher. Tall, greying, probably in his mid-fifties, he gently steadied her arm. “Steady on, Chloe! What’s happened? You look white as a sheet!”
“Geoffrey,” she choked out, “it’s all gone wrong! They’re sacking me!”
“Sacking you? What on earth for?”
Chloe hesitated. Telling the truth was mortifying. Geoffrey was a man of principle, spotless reputation, been at Cedarwood nearly twenty years. “There was… a problem with my documents,” she mumbled vaguely.
“What sort of problem? Maybe I can help?” He looked genuinely concerned. Geoffrey always treated her with a sort of fatherly kindness, offered sweets, asked after her kids. Since her divorce, Chloe really missed that kind of male support. “My degree… it’s issues with my degree.”
“Lost it, did you?” he asked kindly.
“Yes,” Chloe lied, grabbing at the excuse. “Misplaced it during the house move. Getting a replacement takes ages, the red tape is unreal.”
Geoffrey scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Where did you say you studied? What year did you graduate?”
“University of Birmingham,” Chloe answered without blinking. Truth was, she’d only done three years, then got married, had the kids, and never finished.
“You know,” Geoffrey said slowly, “I know a chap at the university archives there. Used to be mates back in our student days. Might be able to hurry things along. What name were you registered under? Maiden name?”
Chloe felt the quicksand of her lies pull her deeper. “Maiden name. Chloe Harrison.”
“Right then, I’ll call Simon later. He runs the archives. See what he can do.”
“Geoffrey, you… you’re so kind,” Chloe whispered. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Don’t be daft! We’re colleagues. Gotta look out for each other.”
That evening, pacing her kitchen like a caged animal, Chloe felt overwhelmed. Seven-year-old Oscar was doing homework at the table, five-year-old Ivy played with dolls in the corner.
“Mummy, why are you crying?” Oscar asked, looking up.
“Nothing, love. Just tired from work, sweetheart.”
“Will Daddy come?”
“No, Oscar. Daddy lives somewhere else now, remember?”
Looking at them, Chloe’s heart clenched. For them, she’d faked that certificate. She needed a job, any decent-paying job. School offered that, plus the pension, sick pay… it was everything.
Next day at break, Geoffrey found her. “Chloe, I rang that chap at the uni archives.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “And?”
“Bit odd. He couldn’t find your name on the graduate list. Sure about the year? Or the specific faculty?”
The floor seemed to vanish. Think! “Geoffrey,” she stammered, “I… I must be misremembering. The divorce was such a shock, my mind’s all over the place. Maybe it was a different uni? I’ll figure it out and let you know.”
“Of course, don’t fret. Brain fog after upheaval is normal.” He looked at her with such care it made her ashamed all over again. Geoffrey was a widower, his wife lost to cancer three years back. No kids. Rumour was he took it hard, went travelling solo abroad to cope.
“Geoffrey, let me buy you lunch? To thank you?”
“Now, don’t waste your money, Chloe!”
“Honestly, I want to. You’re being so kind, helping me, and I hardly know anything about you, outside of PE!”
Geoffrey seemed awkward. “Well… maybe the school canteen? Their bakes aren’t half bad.”
Over lukewarm lasagne, they chatted. Turns out Geoffrey loved fly fishing, devoured historical novels, and spent weekends tinkering at his little country cottage. Lived alone in a two-bed flat, cooked for himself. “How do you manage?” he asked gently. “With the kids? On your own, it must be tough.”
“Getting by,” Chloe sighed. “Oscar helps with Ivy. He’s a good lad.”
“The ex? He pays maintenance on time?”
“Supposed to. Bit hit and miss. Jobs vanishing, excuses… you know.”
Geoffrey frowned. “Disgraceful. Walks out, then won’t support his own?”
“Life, I suppose.”
“Chloe,” he said carefully, “I hope you don’t mind if I check in now and then? See how you’re doing? Only, I can see this business with the documents is weighing on you.”
“Mind? No. It’s… it’s nice, actually. Knowing someone cares.”
From then on, Geoffrey stopped by Chloe’s classroom daily, asked after things, sometimes brought apples from his cottage for the children. Chloe felt his sincere care, yet it twisted her up inside, knowing her deceit.
A week later, he brought up the degree again. “Managed to recall which uni?”
Chloe took a deep breath. “Geoffrey… I need to confess something. But I’m scared you’ll think terribly of me.”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I… I didn’t finish uni. Got married during third year, had the children. Then he left, I had to work. I falsified my certificate to get this job. I know it was awful, but I needed to feed my children.”
Geoffrey was silent for a long moment. Chloe couldn’t look at him.
“So you lied to me? All this time?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Chloe, that’s serious.
Emily watched little Alice fall asleep against Mr. Russel’s – no, Boris’s – shoulder, Hugo peacefully playing beside them, and knew their unlikely love story, born from panic but built on truth, was the most solid foundation they could have ever wished for, joy filling every corner of their future.
