| Welcome to Nikki And Helen. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| A Moment In Time | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 23 2006, 07:37 PM (48,694 Views) | |
| Jules2 | Jul 23 2006, 07:37 PM Post #1 |
|
Oh wow, are you both for me?
![]()
|
All we had was a moment in time. All I had was this moment to go on. A moment where two people loved each other. And it was heavenly. Part 1 My life has been pretty much set like I image most lives are set. Either by expectance of parents and society. Or by expectance of ourselves. One of my earliest memories is of dressing up and pretending to be married. I’d walk around in my mothers shoes and my mum gave me a sheet so I could have a faille. The boy next door I used to play with was going to be my husband. And to make it seem real, I let him kiss me on the cheek. We never fought. We just got married and lived happily ever after. Little did I know what that meant. My mum used to read me bedtime stories. And where kids now get read stories of Harry Potter, I got read the stories of the brothers Grimm. Cinderella was my favourite. I would make my mum read that story over and over again. Other stories I liked too, but the prince looking for his bride and all ending well, I guess it is how I thought life should be. Then in my early teens I discussed with friends how our ideal boyfriend would look like. Some would say blond and blue eyes. Mine was dark haired with brown eyes. But we all agreed that he had to be tall. That somehow it didn’t fit right if the man was shorter than the woman. One time we even discussed body hair; where, how much, moustache or beard. Most girls didn’t mind a little hair on the chest of a man, but I never got the appeal. All good fun memories. Of course, later in life I learned to look for other qualities in a person. Mark isn’t tall or dark haired. His eyes are the blue of a postcard blue sea. And his hair is a little fairer than mine. His chest however doesn’t have any hair on it, neither does his back. And I won’t allow him to grow a beard or a moustache. Mark is also the best man I could think off. He is patient, but he won’t take my crap. He is caring, but not a sissy. He doesn’t mind helping around the house and most nights a week, he is the one that prepares dinner and I clean up after. So what is wrong you are wondering? I don’t know. I have been wondering that too. Everybody expected us to get married soon, but inwardly I was glad that Mark hadn’t asked me. We have been living together now for a little over two years. I am twenty eight. In two year I will be thirty. The big three zero. And I have no idea what I want to do with my life. “Morning darlin’. Daydreaming again?” Mark said as he kissed me on the cheek. I hadn’t heard him come in. I looked at him and thought how good he looks in a suit. He started to make coffee and held up a mug silently asking if I would like some. I shook my head. “I’ll get some orange juice in a minute.” I told him. “Back to work again today?” he asks me. “Hmm,” I nodded with my mouth full. “I have to hurry if I want to be there by 7.45. The kids will pick up their books today and I’ll probably have some administrative duties. I shouldn’t be home later then three. What time will you be home?” “Probably around seven. Got meetings all day” he said stretching the all which made it sounds like he has the most boring job in the world. I smiled because I knew better, got up to grab my jacket and gave him kiss on the lips. I could taste the coffee and the toast that he was eating. “Well, I’ll be off. See you tonight. I’ll have dinner ready when you get home” |
![]() |
|
| Lisa289 | Jul 23 2006, 09:25 PM Post #2 |
![]()
Welsh Bad Girl
![]()
|
Interesting little bit....curious to see where its leading.....although I have a slight incling as to where that is already. Will just have to wait in anticipation to see if I'm right ![]() |
![]() I'm Not Just Perfect - I'm Welsh | |
![]() |
|
| Jules2 | Jul 24 2006, 09:50 PM Post #3 |
|
Oh wow, are you both for me?
![]()
|
To Lisa, all stories/endings tent to be the same. Only the journey is different. I just hope that some people will like the journey i am taking them on. Part 2 I drove my car through some narrow streets getting closer to work and meanwhile checking the clock in the car for the time. How ever much I tried to be on time, I was going to be late for the first day of school. I felt like I had a million things to do before the kids got to school, but now I was trying to order my mind. Trying to figure out what was most important. I’d have to go to the secretaries office and get the names and photos of my new class. I’d have to get the letters to the parents about the test next week from the office as well. I’d have to get the books ready that the kids would be using this yea and I’d have to think of a nice game we could play as we all get to know each other. While I was thinking all this I directed my car to the block of houses where I needed to be. Everything around me here told the story of poverty and under privilege. Some houses had bedcovers over the windows. Either because the owner couldn’t afford curtains or because drugs was sold there. Most gardens looked alright. Only a few gardens were a real mess. I knew that the kids in school would be the same as the neighbourhood. Most would look alright. Well dressed and clean. But some would have stains in their cloths and probably be send to school without breakfast. And I am sure that just a few would be talked about in the first teachers meeting to discuss their hygiene or lack there off. Last year we had one boy who showered in the locker room of the school before class would start, because he got teased so much by his classmates. His mentor discussed the hygiene problem with his mum, but she didn’t see the problem and was still in bed when the boy went to school. So in fairness to the boy, we should have been lucky that he got to school at all. The school was at the other end of the block and I could see it just over the rooftops. It was an old building. Not really suitable for what we expect of a school nowadays. It also looked quite off in its setting itself. Most of the houses around this part were small rental houses with red brick and red roofs. The school however was large with a beige colour that over time turned into a greyish green. It had high windows and large halls with very little colour. It was a dull place to work or to go to school and I always liked the place better two months into the year when the children would have made paintings or sculptors of clay. Looking over the building I realised that the saying is true. A school really is just a building until you hear the brightness of children’s voices inside. Parking the car I quickly got into school and hurried to the secretaries office. “Morning Helen, how was your holiday?” Lucy asked with a knowing smile. She didn’t have to comment on the time. I made a face and then smilingly said, “It was great, but I’m happy to be back at work. How was your holiday?” I was half listening to the few things she was telling me about her holiday and made a mental note to ask her about it further during the coffee break. “Right, well we’ll talk more later. Can you tell me which classroom is mine?” “They put you in room 15” And I made another face when I left the office. Room 15 is next to the computer room on the second floor of the building. I guess that is what you get for being an English teacher. You never get your own classroom since you only need your books and crayons to teach. It is not like the biology teacher who cannot very well walk around the school with the stuffed animals and other visible aides. Ohh well, nothing I can do about it. So I walked the two flights of stairs and got to room 15 where there were cardboard boxes with all the books for the different classes. “Great,” I thought, “well they’ll just get the books at the end of the day. Let’s just hope that there are enough.” I sat down at the desk and looked at the faces that were staring back at me from the peace of paper. Nineteen children around the age of twelve were in my mentor class. Eleven boys and eight girls. Later this week I would read their files. Next week I would organise the test to see how well they read, write and know their math. But not now. It was a few minutes past eight. My pupils were probably be in the school cafeteria. I straightened my back and walked down the stairs to the cafeteria where I would meet class 1D. As I walked down I remembered that I still needed to get the letters informing the parents about the test next week. |
![]() |
|
| Lisa289 | Jul 25 2006, 10:55 AM Post #4 |
![]()
Welsh Bad Girl
![]()
|
Yeah I suppose you're write, well I'm enjoying the start of this journey. I think Helen would be a good teacher. |
![]() I'm Not Just Perfect - I'm Welsh | |
![]() |
|
| coolbyrne | Jul 25 2006, 06:57 PM Post #5 |
|
(not) head bloody prefect
|
I normally don't comment until the entire story is done, but I had to say that this is an extremely well written and compelling read. Great first-person inner thoughts and an interesting start. |
|
Interviewer: What is the most important lesson life has taught you? Jorja Fox: You get what you settle for. MandanaFC.com- The lighter side of a serious appreciation! | |
![]() |
|
| Jules2 | Jul 25 2006, 10:22 PM Post #6 |
|
Oh wow, are you both for me?
![]()
|
Thank you, Lisa and Coolbyrne for the lovely complements! I try to do a good job, but it isn't easy since English is not my first language. So bear with me if i make a few mistakes! Part 3 I once read an article of a psychologist who wrote his thesis on how to build a relationship with your pupils to a healthy work environment. I’m not sure how he called it. But his message was clear. Spend time getting to know each other. Show interest, ask questions. Get the pupils to ask each other questions. It will take you an hour, but imagine the time it will cost you if the class unanimously decides to misbehave, not listen en frankly be rude. Just getting them to sit down can be a torment. I learned this lesson the hard way when I just started teaching and I learned the lesson well. So now at the beginning of each school year I ask the children about their holiday, their homes, their families. And I try to give a fun assignment, by reading a short story and asking few questions about it. One boy, Matthew, captured my heart if I can say that. Most of the children were looking around in the school with big eyes; not quite believing where they were or what they were seeing. Not Matthew. Immediately he started talking to me about model airplanes he likes to assemble and about being a pilot when he grew up. In class he was loud, answering questions before he was called or looking out the window and not paying attention at all. He was one of the bigger boys. Desperately in need of a haircut and trouble written all over his face. I’ll have to keep an eye on him in the next few weeks, I thought, but I also liked it. If a whole class just obeys all day, I get bored. At 10.15 the bell rang for coffee break. The kids hurried down the stairs and I heard another teacher yelling that they should slow down. It was busy in the staffroom. Every mentor of the seven first classes and eight second classes were present. Along with a few teachers who were getting thing in order for classes later in the week. How ever weird it may sound; the first day of school is always a very sociable occasion. You might think that teacher would like to have the extra day off, not give up their freedom just yet. But the mixture of people made it fun to be around them. I didn’t have to get alone equally well with all my colleagues, but being around them after a seven week holiday was fun. It was good to hear how holidays were spend. And often it would lead to new ideas as to where to spend to next holiday. Some colleagues I did spend time with. Mary is a middle aged woman who teaches math. She is certifiable insane and just cracks me up. Sometimes we would do small projects together and have good fun doing it. Then there is Paul, a man who is just a few years older than me. He is an chemistry/ biology teacher. Paul is gorgeous and last year had a secret admirer in one of his pupils. He handled the situation with grace, but still got teased now and then in the staffroom. Since I didn’t see Lucy yet, I decided to join Mary, Paul and a few others. “Morning Helen, how was your holiday?” Mary asks me. “It was great,” I tell her, “we went to Greece for a quick holiday. How was yours?” “What, only a quickie?! My, I thought your man could handle more then that!” I smiled, but didn’t respond. Sometimes it is just better not to respond, so I turned to Paul and asked him about what he had been up to for the last few weeks. He smiled at Mary’s comment and told me about a small boat he bought and was fixing up. “Yeah, I’d like to take her out and about next year. She isn’t sea worthy, but I can do some sailing in Britain. It’ll be great!” Just then John, the director of the school walked in the staffroom and asked for everybody’s attention. Next to him was a tall woman. Probably around my age. Dark hair. Dark eyes. She was dressed well and I could see Paul checking her out. Her make-up was light and highlighted her eyes and mouth. She was beautiful, but didn’t try to be. “Everybody, this is Nikki Wade; our new biology/ chemistry teacher. She came with high credentials and I trust you will make her feel welcome.” he said. Nikki just looked around the room just responded with hello when the other teachers welcomed her. I could see her turning her body toward John when he said something to her. They both looked in our direction and headed our way. “Paul, I’d like you to show Nikki around since you both teach the same subject. Show her the ropes a bit.” then he said towards Nikki, “Then after lunch you can come see me. I’ll have your schedule ready and the photos of the children in your classes.” Nikki nodded and he walked away. |
![]() |
|
| Lisa289 | Jul 25 2006, 11:29 PM Post #7 |
![]()
Welsh Bad Girl
![]()
|
Great update! Introduction of Nikki...... so she's gonna be hangin around with Paul, who is on of Helen's best friends, so naturally they'll come to hang out together..... or is this just me letting my imagination run wild with fics again? Oh well, will have to wait and see
|
![]() I'm Not Just Perfect - I'm Welsh | |
![]() |
|
| stunning_simone | Jul 26 2006, 07:09 PM Post #8 |
|
G3 Curtain and Duvet!
|
great update xxx |
|
"The one who listens with their heart will understand" | |
![]() |
|
| bgfanatic | Jul 27 2006, 01:41 PM Post #9 |
![]()
Out of Dorm
|
we need a new update!!! |
![]() |
|
| Jules2 | Jul 27 2006, 05:56 PM Post #10 |
|
Oh wow, are you both for me?
![]()
|
bgfanatic: alright, keep your knickers on! Part 4 That was when I met her. Without knowing the significance of the meeting. How could I have known that she would change me. Change the heart of me. At that moment she was just a new colleague. Somebody I should get to know and work with. Paul held out his hand and Nikki shook it. “Paul Foster, nice to meet you.” “Nikki Wade, nice to meet you too.” Her voice was darker then I would have thought, but nice. She seemed friendly enough. “Nikki, let me introduce you to Helen Stewart and Mary O’Connell. Helen is our English teacher. Well, one of them anyway. And Mary is one of our math teachers.” “Pleased to meet you,” Nikki said. She pulled up a chair and joined us at our table. “So where are you from, Nikki?” Mary asked her. “Just about everywhere really,” Nikki answered, “I travelled around a lot.” It was an answer that seemed to bring up a lot more questions, but the way she said it made Mary stop asking them. It was a tone of indifference and something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “And what made you want to become a teacher, Nikki?” I asked her. “Well at first I didn’t really. I studied biology in college because it fascinated me. Part of the course was an internship at a local school. The pupils amazed me with their questions and spirit. I even remember the first question I was every asked,” Nikki said with a smile, “A boy asked me why egg joke was yellow.” “Good question,” I responded “Yeah, it was.” “So what was your answer?” “I told him not to ask such difficult questions! The children laughed and that was it; I was hooked every since. They made me examine and re-examine things that I never thought about. It increased my fascination with biology and it helped to find out that I was quite good at teaching.” Nikki laughed. The bell rang and we all went our ways. Nikki accompanied Paul to the biology room on the first floor. I saw a glimpse of them before I turned around to walk another flight of stairs. The rest of the day was uneventful. I ended up forgetting to get the letters from the secretaries office. And of course I was a few books short. What else was new. I’d have to get that sorted tomorrow. The children left at about half two. There was nothing more I could do today and I didn’t feel like starting class just yet. It would keep till next time. Tomorrow I would get to know the children in the other three first classes I am teaching. I got my new schedule from the directors office. Among this tasks is making the schedule for all the teachers. “Great, I have Wednesday afternoons off!” I told him brightly. “Yes, I knew you would like that,” he smiled, “It is going to be a busy year for you Helen. Four first classes and two second classes.” “No busier than last year, John,” I answered him. I smiled once more and left the office. John may be the director of the school, but he is also very much part of the team. He wouldn’t let me call him mister Carmichael when I just came to work at the school. And he made clear in no uncertain terms that if I had any trouble with one of the children that I should send them to his office. It is nice to be welcomed like that. Welcomed and appreciated. I just knew that Nikki would feel the same. Just like promised I was home around three. The day went by so fast. Before I knew it, it was time to make dinner. Mark would be home soon. I peeled the potatoes and washed broccoli. I baked the meat and made sure the table was set for when Mark came home. Then I just watched some tv. Mark was late, but is was hard to get mad and stay mad at him. He walked in with a huge smile on his face, chucked his coat over the sofa and leaned down to kiss me on the mouth. “Sorry I am late, babe, but I had the most amazing day at work.” He walked to the kitchen and took the lit of one of the pans. “What’s for dinner?” It was a rhetorical question. “Broccoli? yummy!” He sat down and I put the pans on the table. While he was dividing the food he started talking about his day. “You wouldn’t believe the presentations I have seen today, Hells. Most exciting times. We have the technology to do most bank matters via internet. They showed us a presentation where a clients can phone the bank to upgrade his mortgage; in case he wants a new kitchen or something. The agent on the phone can send him a form through a secure internet connection and discuss what the upgrade will mean for his monthly payments. If the client agrees with the terms, he can sign the form with a digital code and send it back through the internet connection and it is all done. Now it will take some time before this will actually happen. Agents need to be trained. The possibility needs to be introduced to the public so that our clients know about the possibility and feel safe with it. And you know what the best part is?” He looked at me with his boyish look and such excitement and hope in his eyes. “What is the best part?” I asked him. “They want me to train the agents. All agents can apply for this special department. So I’ll have to go through the letters, interview the candidates and then start the in-house training. If everything goes well, I could become a manager if I want to. And the possibilities are endless. Increasing personal loans, everything. We might actually get to a point where we will fill in parts of our clients IRS forms. I mean, every product they have at our bank can be filled in. How much the loan is for. How much mortgage they pay and so on.” He was still smiling at the end of the whole story. “How was your day?” he asked. “It was great.” I answered. My time to smile. “The class is great. Nineteen pupils.” “Someone stolen your heart already?” he interrupted. My smile increased. “You know me too well. Yes, there is this boy who is going to be a handful, but I like him.” “And how are Mary and Paul. Should we invite them over for dinner sometime?” Mark asked. “They are fine. And dinner would be nice sometime. Although, it might become a party of six.” Mary would bring her husband. “Ohh how so?” Mark asked again. “Does Paul have a new girlfriend. It is about time. He has been single forever. What is her name?” I laughed. “I don’t know her name yet. His new love is a boat that he is trying to fix. We wouldn’t have to set another plate, but I know he’ll be talking about her all night!” Mark laughed too. After dinner and cleaning up, we watched a bad movie on tv. Around half eleven Mark turned off the tv and looked at me with a seductive smile. He walked back to the sofa, leaned down and kissed me on the mouth. “Fancy a shag?” I shook my head. He leaned in and kissed me again. All I could think was how good a kisser he was. He took my hand and turned off the lights. In the bedroom we made love and fell asleep. It was a good day. |
![]() |
|
| Lisa289 | Jul 27 2006, 07:35 PM Post #11 |
![]()
Welsh Bad Girl
![]()
|
Likin' this story.....keep the updates coming in |
![]() I'm Not Just Perfect - I'm Welsh | |
![]() |
|
| stunning_simone | Jul 27 2006, 09:32 PM Post #12 |
|
G3 Curtain and Duvet!
|
thanks for the amazing update xxxxx |
|
"The one who listens with their heart will understand" | |
![]() |
|
| coolbyrne | Jul 27 2006, 09:46 PM Post #13 |
|
(not) head bloody prefect
|
This is a lovely meander through someone's life; how we get on and get by, and how the people in our lives who matter to us the most don't always make themselves apparent at first glance. I hope you'll continue at this pace and not be tempted to rush it. |
|
Interviewer: What is the most important lesson life has taught you? Jorja Fox: You get what you settle for. MandanaFC.com- The lighter side of a serious appreciation! | |
![]() |
|
| Jules2 | Jul 28 2006, 12:48 PM Post #14 |
|
Oh wow, are you both for me?
![]()
|
Thanks for the feedback! Coolbyrne: I know what you mean. Sometimes i feel like rushing it, but then i remind myself: patience. It is a marathon not a sprint. Part 5 A good few weeks have past since that day and life has been pretty much the same as ever. I taught during the weekdays. Graded tests and prepared for the next class in the evening. Sometimes on Sundays Mark and I would go for a walk. Or on summer days, go to the park for a pick nick. Once in two or three weeks I would visit my father on Wednesday afternoons. I hated it, but felt obligated. Like the good little girl I used to be. Used to, you ask. Past tense? If it were up to my father, I’d visit him every week. Drink tea with him and hear him talk about his days and his complains about pains in his body. Ohh and of course, listen to him talking about what a mess I made out of my life. Living in shame with a man. Working, when I had the age to be nursing babies. A right old spinster I would become, was his opinion. I would sit there in the living room of the house I was born in, look out of the garden where I used to play as a child. And I would count the minutes till I could say I’d have to go. This house holds so many dear memories for me. In the kitchen, there are still the little pencil stripes my mum made every birthday to see how much I had grown. The dinner table was the place where we shared a bowl of cereal one night when she was sick and we both couldn’t sleep. I made her promise to wake me the next time she couldn’t sleep. So we could share a bowl of cereal again. -She never did; there wasn’t any time.- And my father would play piano and fill the house with sweet sounds. He was happy then. I cannot remember if I have ever seen him smile since she died. It is because of her, you see that I still come here. Still see him. Even though the visits make me sad. Mark doesn’t want to come and doesn’t understand why I go. It wasn’t something we discussed anymore. The situation just was what it was. Nikki and I weren’t anything more than co-workers at this point. She would join us at the table in the teachers lounge and talk about children in her class. Talk about the children in my mentor class. Discuss what she did on a weekend. Nothing special. Nothing too personal. She was always a little distant. Never revealing too much of herself. She was like the perfect flower, just beyond our reach. I’m not sure if she tried to be. She just was. She had an aura around her of untouchable and yet a wonderful spirit that we were all drawn to. Children wanted to know her. Even if they weren’t in her class. Some teachers have that. A natural way with children where they demand respect and well behaviour. I never had that. It seemed to come so easy to her. I remember having playground duty where I’d have to watch the children; make sure there weren’t any arguments. Some of the more athletic boys had made a soccer competition. Teams would be playing each other on different days of the week. Our janitor was voted referee and kept score of all the teams. You might think why was he made referee? Didn’t he have anything else to do? Yes, he did. But the rule is always simple. If children want something of you, they’ll be more likely to behave and tell others to behave then when you want something of them. Besides, there were so many children every day as spectators, that it was easy to keep an eye on them. Nikki was outside smoking a cigarette. I saw her lean down a bit to listen to something a pupil was saying, she answered and smiled. That was when a boy from the second grade asked me: “Do you like soccer, miss Stewart?” I don’t see the appeal of the game. The players spend all their time trying to catch the ball. And as soon as they have it, they kick it away. It doesn’t make any sense when you think about it. So I answered him, “What is soccer, Jamie?” I had a wicked smile on my face, but I guess he didn’t see it. He was stunned. He just looked at me with big eyes. Like I was the stupidest person in the world. I had to keep myself from laughing out loud. “I was just kidding, Jamie. I don’t like soccer very much. Mainly because I never got the offside rule.” Jamie’s eyes lid up and with great enthusiast he was explaining the offside rule. I wasn’t really listening. Mainly because Mark had explained the offside rule to me long ago and because I had to keep my eyes on the rest of the children. When Jamie finished explaining, I excuses myself because I still had the cafeteria to check. That is when I noticed that Nikki was no longer watching the soccer; she had joined the team that was losing. I couldn’t resist to watch for a few moments. Nikki was running towards the ball, but a boy of the other team had the ball. There she was, running in her jeans and white shirt. She picked up the boy, got the ball, put the boy down and ran towards the goal trying to score. All the boys of the other team were running towards her, yelling that it wasn’t fair. That she should give the ball back and get a warning. It didn’t take them long to catch up with her, taking her hands and legs so she couldn’t move and so they would have the ball back. The janitor slash referee was laughing so hard that his beer belly was shaking. And Nikki’s whole body smiled. |
![]() |
|
| Lisa289 | Jul 28 2006, 02:02 PM Post #15 |
![]()
Welsh Bad Girl
![]()
|
Aww that was a nice chapter. Nothing major, just the relaxation and fun of the school playground. |
![]() I'm Not Just Perfect - I'm Welsh | |
![]() |
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Completed Fan Fiction - 18 · Next Topic » |











8:48 AM Jul 11