The Secretary

by Zoe Lea

  I wished I was one of those women who could chalk it up to experience, who could say that I used him as much as he used me, but I’m not. Never have been. It’s not what I do. I’ve only ever slept with a handful of men and every one of them I’d been in a relationship with. He was my first one-night stand, my first stranger in a bar. So to see him like that, in such a domestic setting, to see him with a family after hearing his hopes for ‘children of his own’, well, it shook me up.

  ‘The one that bought all that champagne?’ Becca asked, and I nodded. ‘That’s … he’s … ’ She shook her head, trying to catch up with herself. ‘He’s Janine Walker’s husband?’

  ‘I didn’t know it was him,’ I said, ‘obviously. He told me he’d just come out of a seven-year relationship. He told me he was single. Did you … ?’

  ‘I only saw Mark a few times after that night and we never talked about him. He said Rob was an old schoolfriend, someone he rarely saw.’

  I nodded; we both remembered how she’d gone on several dates with Mark before declaring him boring, while I waited in vain to hear from Rob.

  We stared at each other.

  ‘Bastard,’ Becca said in a low voice.

  Sounds of children’s voices carried from the corridors. They were lining up, ready to file into the main hall.

  ‘Shit, is it that time already?’ Becca glanced at her watch. ‘You need to tell John that Janine assaulted you,’ she said. ‘But leave out what you did with her husband.’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘Ruth, listen to me, you need to report this. Do it now, before she does anything else.’

  ‘Anything else?’ I pressed the tissue to my head and looked at it. The bleeding was coming to a stop.

  ‘Ruth,’ Becca leaned forward, touched my shoulder and made sure I was looking at her, ‘this is Janine Walker, not some random parent, but Janine Walker, head of the Parent Teacher Association. You realise what that means?’

  I looked at her blankly and Becca shook her head slightly.

  ‘It means she’s not going to let this go. She was the one who made all that fuss about the kids eating with a knife and fork,’ she reminded me. ‘That stupid “eat-right” campaign?’

  My face blanched.

  ‘That was Janine,’ Becca said.

  I remembered that. The stupid PTA campaign that was concerned not with what the kids were eating, but how they were eating it. There were endless complaints from the dinner staff who suddenly had the extra burden of teaching the children to use cutlery properly. At the time I was at a total loss as to why it was happening, and why the school was supporting her.

  ‘That was her?’

  Becca nodded. ‘She takes her role very seriously, always fundraising and making donations to the school. Half the teachers are friends of hers, they work for her on the side in the holidays.’

  I stared at her.

  ‘Tutoring. Cash in hand.’ Becca rubbed her finger and thumb together, the universal sign for money.

  ‘Is that allowed?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what’s allowed,’ Becca said, gathering her things together. ‘The point is you need to tell John now, before she … ’

  There was a tap at the glass, and then the ping of the bell that was outside my office window. Someone was there and wanted my attention. I looked at Becca in alarm; I wasn’t ready for round two.

  ‘Wait there,’ Becca whispered and opened the door. I heard muffled words, and then Eve, the woman with the boy, the woman who’d heard it all, appeared at the door.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, ‘about Ryan. What he said out there. What happened.’

  There was a shout from a child in the hall as the children went in for assembly. It was loud and close. Any minute the school bell would go and the time for talking would be over.

  ‘I’ve sent Ryan home with my mother, and I was going to keep out of it,’ she went on, oblivious to the ticking clock, ‘but then, when they started talking about your dismissal, and then Amy and Caroline came over, and then Janine and Ashley went in to see Mr Cartwright—’

  ‘They went in to see John?’ I interrupted, and Eve nodded.

  ‘Janine and Ashley. Amy and Caroline are waiting outside.’ She glanced over her shoulder as if to see the other two women, and I stared at Becca in horror, my heart pounding.

  ‘They were talking about what you said to Janine and how it wasn’t right with you being the secretary here, but I saw her throw her phone. And I know what she’s like, so I thought I should come in.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘And if you want me to see Mr Cartwright, to tell him my side, then I will. I’m not afraid of Janine. I’m not afraid of any of them.’

  ‘Sorry?’ I couldn’t keep up. ‘You’re not afraid of who?’

  Eve opened her mouth to answer but was stopped by the sound of John’s office door opening.

  Suddenly there they were, facing us in the small area between our offices.

  Janine’s eyes red and puffy, Ashley behind her, talking. She stopped mid-sentence as she saw us. Janine’s body went rigid, her arms stiff at her sides, and I felt myself go hot under their scrutiny. Eve took a step back, cowering slightly. Despite what she’d claimed, she did look afraid.

  Ashley turned to John, her eyebrows raised, but said nothing. No one moved. I pressed the tissue to the back of my head; it had started to pound again.

  ‘Ruth,’ John began after a moment.

  The school bell rang and I jumped, my free hand going to my throat. Janine stared at me as it rang out, her eyes boring into mine, unblinking.

  ‘Thank you, ladies,’ John said as it finished ringing. He ushered them towards the main exit. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘You’ll have a formal letter this afternoon,’ Ashley said, still staring at me. She put a hand on the small of Janine’s back, leading her out of the building as if she were elderly. ‘Your immediate action is appreciated,’ she said to John as they went, ‘considering how serious the situation is.’

  He nodded to them and, once they were out of the building, signalled for me to go into his office.

  ‘Misconduct,’ he said, as he closed the door, ‘you want to tell me what went on out there because Ashley Simmons, a solicitor, and Janine Walker, chair of the PTA and our biggest financial donor, I might add, are demanding your immediate suspension due to gross misconduct.’

  ‘Gross misconduct?’ I heard myself say. ‘They can’t.’

  ‘They barged in here,’ he said, going to his chair, ‘no appointment, no knock, just straight in demanding I suspend you on the spot. There’s a group of them out there apparently –’ he waved in the general direction of the door ‘– all parents, all heard what you said and all shocked at your behaviour.’

  I went to answer but he held his palm out, stopping me.

  ‘And they have a point,’ he went on. ‘You know I don’t care what you get up to in your own time, but from eight-thirty to four you are a school secretary and it matters what you do. You should have been in here –’ he rapped his knuckles on his desk ‘– not out there, provoking parents, shouting accusations and slanderous rumours. It’s the last thing you should have been doing. What were you thinking?’

  I felt like one of the children, hauled into his office for a ticking off. I was hot, sweating suddenly.

  ‘She threw her phone at me!’ I sounded like a child, petulant and whiny. ‘She attacked me.’ I showed him the tissue I’d been using, dotted with red, then turned and lifted my hair at the back, matted from where the blood had begun to dry. ‘She did this and I have witnesses to prove it. Eve. She wants to speak to you, she saw it all. How I was assaulted.’

  I heard him shift in his chair. When I turned back around, he’d taken off his glasses and was rubbing at the space between his eyes.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ he said, before lifting the phone. ‘Is Teresa there?’ He was on the internal line, asking for the year one teaching assistant and dedicated first aider.

&n
bsp; ‘No,’ I said, ‘I don’t want to make a fuss.’

  He held up his hand. ‘Send her up to my office, would you? Bit of an incident. Thanks.’

  He breathed out heavily through his nose and looked at me.

  ‘John,’ I leaned forward, ‘what I did was perhaps unprofessional, but it’s got no bearing on my abilities in here. It’s got nothing to do with my job. It was a misunderstanding.’ I paused, debating if I should go on. ‘I met Janine’s husband last February,’ I began, ‘but I had no idea who he was, no idea at all. I didn’t know he was her husband. I didn’t know he was married. So this morning, when I saw him … ’ I faltered a little. John’s eyebrows had shot up near his hairline. ‘None of it was my fault,’ I said. ‘Really, John, I didn’t know who he was. I apologised to Janine. I tried to explain, to tell her that he’d lied, that he’d told me he wasn’t married, but—’

  ‘Ruth,’ John interrupted, ‘stop. Stop. You’re making it worse.’ He shook his head. ‘What you did with Janine’s husband, who you thought he was or what you told her is something I don’t need to know. This incriminates you in all kinds of areas of unprofessionalism.’

  ‘Please, John.’ I leaned forward. ‘You can see how it could’ve happened. How it wasn’t my fault. She attacked me out there. Threw her phone at me. A parent assaulted me, surely that matters?’

  He stayed silent.

  ‘You can’t suspend me,’ I went on, ‘there’s too much to do. I’ve a temp to hire for year five and the half-term residential to sort out.’

  He didn’t speak.

  ‘And there’s the window situation in year one,’ I went on. ‘I’ve already talked to Gary about it, and he’s coming in later to discuss the fittings and suppliers. Who else will you get at such short notice?’

  We stared at each other.

  ‘If anything, I should be asking that Janine be restricted on school property. I should be asking that you—’

  ‘All right, all right,’ he said, and rubbed his temples. ‘This is all I need.’ He stared at his desk. ‘They did omit the fact that she attacked you.’

  ‘Assaulted me,’ I agreed.

  ‘And that changes things, changes them quite a lot.’ He looked at me. ‘You understand what this means? There’ll be an investigation, which is the last thing you need. You’ll need to speak with your union rep. I imagine I’ll have the formal complaint in writing by this afternoon … ’

  There was a tap at the door. ‘First aider!’ Teresa called in a sing-song voice.

  ‘Janine Walker and Ashley Simmons.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ll give you this, Ruth, you know how to pick a fight.’

  FIVE

  I once read somewhere that the suicide rate for primary school teachers is nearly double the national average. Surprising that, isn’t it? Apparently, statistics were collected over a four-year period and the conclusion was that if you work in primary school you’ve a higher chance of taking your own life. And approximately ninety per cent of this work force is female.

  The staff at our school was almost entirely female. John, the headteacher, Gary, the caretaker, and one other teaching assistant being the only men. So when I finally braved the staffroom, when I plucked up the courage and walked into it that lunchtime, I was acutely aware of a gossipy, bitchy undercurrent. From a pack of women who, according to the statistics, were depressed and slightly suicidal. And all of them directing their judgemental thoughts at me.

  In hindsight, I can see I was a welcome distraction. Something to take their mind off their own stressed lives, but as I walked in, I couldn’t find any perspective other than a room filled with vindictive women. Women who I now knew were secretly working for Janine.

  Several conversations stopped. A teaching assistant stared at me openly, someone sniggered from the far corner. Lucy and Denise from reception were talking to Teresa. They all turned and gawped as I walked in, and I instinctively put my hand up to the plaster on the back of my head.

  I suddenly realised that every woman in there knew what I had done and had made a very definite decision about it. A formal letter of complaint had been delivered to the office just a couple of hours earlier. It was from Ashley, written on Janine’s behalf, asking for my suspension. They were going for gross misconduct. It was so unfair, so outrageous and unjust. I couldn’t quite believe that it was being taken seriously.

  John had told me that, as the complaint was not of a child protection or safeguarding issue but one of my professional conduct, it was up to the governors and the head teacher to make a decision. An investigation was pending, but because I wasn’t putting any of the children at risk my suspension was not immediate, and John had told me he was happy to have me continue at work.

  So if John, the head of the school, was happy for me to stay, then why were the staff being so hostile?

  ‘Hello,’ my voice cracked. I should’ve said it louder, with more confidence. Teresa gave me a small smile and looked away, the rest of them didn’t even bother with a smile. They all ignored me. No one said anything. Not a word.

  I straightened my shoulders and looked around for Lisa, Sam’s teacher. His bullying was more important than what had happened to me. I needed to find Lisa and tell her what was going on. I saw her over by the sink and headed towards her, aware that I was being covertly watched by the entire room. She was opening a Pot Noodle, reaching up into the cupboard for the communal ketchup.

  ‘Lisa,’ I smiled warmly. She looked at me and blanched. Lisa was young, still completing her NQT year. She still thought teaching was a vocation and not a job, and – I realised as she swallowed and looked past me – still a little unsure of herself. She was searching for help, for someone else.

  ‘Ruth,’ she said, and went back to her Pot Noodle.

  ‘I won’t keep you long,’ I said. ‘I know how busy you are, but I really, really need to talk to you.’

  She kept stabbing her fork into the dried noodles, her head down.

  ‘I meant to see you first thing,’ I said. ‘I need to talk to you about Sam, about something –’ I paused ‘– well, it’s delicate.’ I gave a slight laugh. ‘I could really do with having a chat about—’

  ‘I know what happened,’ she interrupted and looked at me. She took her glasses off and gave them a wipe as the kettle switched off to the side of us. In the silence I was aware of everyone listening. There were a few low murmurs in the room but it seemed eerily quiet. Two had come forward, towards the sink under the ruse of returning their cups, and Lisa cast a glance at them. Her eyes registered the situation and she raised her chin slightly at me. ‘I know what you did to Janine Walker this morning,’ she said firmly.

  I didn’t think I’d heard her correctly. What I did?

  The two teaching assistants loitered around the sink, making a meal over rinsing their mugs. I side-stepped towards the fridge, turning my back on them, trying to lure Lisa away, but she actively stepped out, so they could see and hear her. She was enjoying the attention.

  ‘The thing is,’ Lisa went on, ‘Janine’s been wonderful since I’ve started here. I don’t want to take sides, so I’d rather not be involved.’

  I took a moment. I couldn’t understand.

  ‘But I’m talking about Sam,’ I said slowly, ‘my son. He’s in your class and he’s being bullied … ’

  ‘Janine is happily married,’ Lisa interrupted, stretching out the words and I went hot. A flush of adrenalin rushing up through my chest. ‘An urgent staff meeting has been called after school. I’ve had to cancel a doctor’s appointment.’ She shook her head. ‘So I don’t think we should discuss it until I’ve taken advice.’

  ‘Advice?’

  ‘And I think it would be more professional if we spoke about Sam outside of school hours,’ she said. ‘I think we’re in danger of blurring the boundaries and I think it’s confusing for Sam. I’m aware he’s a challenging student—’

  ‘Challenging?’

  ‘I’d prefer it if you made an appointment in fut
ure to talk to me rather than ambushing me in my lunch hour.’ She lifted her chin again and I wanted to slap her face. ‘I also think it would be best practice if there was a chaperone. For protection.’ A small patch of pink had developed on each cheek, her eyes flicking to the other women for approval.

  ‘A chaperone?’ I gave a hollow laugh, aware that I was repeating her every last word with an air of disbelief. ‘Lisa, is this a joke?’

  ‘In light of recent events –’ her voice was shrill ‘– I think it’s best practice. Thursday next week, after school would be OK. I’ll see if Julia can be present and get back to you.’

  ‘Next week?’ I asked. ‘But I need to talk to you today, Sam is—’

  ‘That’s the best I can do,’ she said, and left me open mouthed by the sink.

  It was only after she’d gone that I realised that by saying nothing I’d more or less agreed to her demands. A chaperone. As if I was the one to be feared.

  I was erratic and twitchy for the rest of the day. I got on with my job, made the calls, wrote the letters, but the events of the morning hung over me like a dark cloud. I’d left John’s office that morning and wanted to slam the registers against the wall, overturn the computer and smash the chair into the monitor. It had taken me almost three years to get a permanent position – after how it had ended at the car dealership – and the thought of having another vague ‘reason for leaving’ on my CV made my stomach lurch. I couldn’t do it. My fledgling cake business was only just starting to make a minor profit. It wasn’t yet providing a regular income. And I couldn’t leave Sam at that school alone. I couldn’t let Will accuse me of unemployment again and I couldn’t stand the thought of job searching.

  All those interviews with awkward questions and lack of references. I was behind on the rent as it was. I would not lose this job. I could not lose this job. So I didn’t slam the registers or overturn the computer at how stupid I’d allowed myself to be. Apart from my horrendous trip to the staffroom, I hid instead. Blinds drawn, hatch closed, and didn’t see a soul until Becca popped her head in at afternoon break. She looked at me trying to eat my forgotten sandwich from lunch and shook her head in pity.