7:51

1.

Luck is on our side. The typically grey, miserable English weather has given way to a lovely blue sky complete with a shining yellow orb radiating warmth. All that could make the morning better is one person – one person who fortunately appears right by my side.

"You excited?" Noah asks, coming up behind me and hugging me as I tie back the curtains.

"That's one word, I guess," I reply. I smile at the warm kiss he places on my neck and then turn around to see his welcoming face gazing down at me.

"What do you mean?"

"Aren't you kind of nervous?" I ask Noah and he shakes his head with a slightly confused look. "It's just going to be us two and a bus driver looking after nearly thirty kids for five days. I know I've done it before, and I look after them every day, but...don't you think it's daunting?"

"Beth, if anyone's got this, it's you. You're every kid's favourite teacher, even the ones you don't teach," Noah comments and I laugh. "They're going to have the best time! And so will we."

"You think?"

"Of course. Especially if we start the week with pancakes..." he says hopefully, already pulling me towards the bedroom door.

"We don't have time for pancakes! We have to leave in an hour and we aren't even dressed!" I reason, turning round to face him.

"Always time for pancakes, Beth, always time for pancakes."

Knowing there's no arguing with him, I follow him to the kitchen, perch on the counter, and watch him. He hums quietly to himself, no doubt without even realising, as he pulls various ingredients and equipment out of the cupboards and throws it all together to make a batter. Only minutes later the smell of freshly cooked pancakes fills the room, triggering a loud growl from my stomach; luckily, Noah hands me a plate straight away.

"Not quite your usual standard, I must say," I comment. He takes dramatic offence at my insult towards his slightly overdone, not-very-circular creation and tries to snatch the plate back from me but I'm too quick. I lift it high so it's out of his reach from the floor and then grab the pancake and fold it all into my mouth at once.

"You're disgusting," he states but he's laughing and still looking at me in adoration.

"I'm not half as bad as you are," I reply once I finish the mouthful and I can see him try but fail to deny it. "I'm going to shower. Can you save me a couple if you manage to not mess any up?"

"In your dreams. I'm going to make a whole batch of the best pancakes the world has ever seen and I'm going to eat every single one myself."

I shake my head with an amused smile before leaving the kitchen for the bathroom, making sure to enjoy the shower as I step in. For all I know it could be my last chance to feel clean and fresh for a few days, since Noah and I are taking my Year 6 class on the annual school trip to Cornwall. It isn't my first time so I'm all too aware that the showers are sub-par, and the daily activities of rock climbing, mountain boarding, surfing and the likes are as sweat inducing as they are exhilarating. However, it is Noah's first time so I also know it's going to be even better than usual. As the P.E. teacher at the school it makes sense for him to go, given that all the activities are physical, and I finally managed to persuade the headteacher of this. With him by my side, the week is bound to be a good one.

Noah sticks true to his word by making the best pancakes the world has ever seen but not so much the part about eating them all himself. After putting a final few things in the rucksack I've meticulously packed, I head back to the kitchen to find a plate sat waiting for me. The pancakes are cold by now but I couldn't care less; I savour every mouthful and by the time the plate is empty, Noah is ready to leave.

As planned, we're at the school before any of the kids so that we can grab everything we need – registers, a first aid kit, the ever necessary sick bucket – before the bus shows up and we have to mediate the kids fighting over seats. The morning is as warm as it looked from inside and I can't resist lying down on the path while we wait for everyone to arrive. It would be relaxing, with the morning sun beaming down on my face and warming me from head to toe, if Noah weren't by my side laughing at me.

"You always have to get every bit of sun you can, don't you?" he teases.

"Can you blame a girl for wanting to maintain her tan? It doesn't come easily, you know," I state and he lets out another chuckle.

"I guess it does look good on you," he says with a wink.

"You think so?" I ask, smirking.

"Definitely." He lies down next to me and starts leaning in closer just as a young voice calls out to us.

"Morning Miss Rhoda!" We both turn out heads to see one of my favourite students, Saffron, hopping out of her parents' car and running towards us. "Hi Mr Madero!"

"Hey, Saffron," Noah greets her, standing up and waving. "You all ready to go?"

"Yep! Dad said to leave my suitcase with him until the coach is here, though, because it's too heavy for me to lift. I packed a lot, even though Mum told me not to. But I had to take at least three disposable cameras, and my scrapbook so I can put anything straight in there, and my diary – so just the essentials, really." As Saffron natters away I'm reminded why I adore her so much. She's the youngest in the class – a day younger and she would have been in the year below – and doesn't seem too bothered about what people think of her. Sure, most people need an adjustment period to get used to how she could talk your ear off at every given chance, but once you get to know her it's clear she has a heart of gold and is sweeter than sugar.

One by one, the rest of the class shows up along with the coach, and before we know it all the luggage is packed on and we're ready to leave – surprisingly, right on schedule. There are the inevitable arguments over seats, a few tears at the prospect of going away for a whole week, and quite a few last minute toilet trips, but soon we're driving out the school gates with the kids all waving happily goodbye to their families. From there, it doesn't take long for the nerves to go down and the noise level to increase.

Noah and I try to tune it out best we can to enjoy the journey ourselves. It's all too disappointing for our conversation to come to an end when it's interrupted by the fateful 'so-and-so doesn't feel so well' call from further behind us. In my few years as a teacher I don't think I've ever managed a school trip without at least one student getting travel sick. This time, it turns out to be Saffron whose stomach disagrees with the lengthy and bumpy journey, and as I head towards her it's obvious. Her face is ghostly pale and an uncomfortable expression covers her face.

"Do you need to come and sit at the front with me?" I ask her gently and she nods, her bottom lip sticking out slightly. Unclipping her seat belt and picking up her bag, she steps into the aisle and I place my hand on her shoulder to steady her as I follow her back towards the front.

She slides into the seat on the other side of the aisle to where I've been sitting with Noah and I stop to make sure she has her seat belt on. It takes a little while, her small shaky hands unsteadily fumbling for the plug, but I wait nonetheless. Only then do I reach up to the overhead shelves to grab the bucket for her.

And only then do I hear the intakes of breath and the sound of the horn beeping loudly.

What happens next could be seconds or nanoseconds. I don't know. All I know is that, as I turn to see a car on our side of the road as we round the bend, the brakes screech, the bus swerves and I'm thrown forwards.

A familiar hand grips mine in an attempt to save me.

My hand slips away.

Then the world turns upside down.