by Zoe Lea
It took me a moment. I had to remind myself about what Toby was writing on Sam’s books, what he was calling him, and then I realised: Toby was also an eight-year-old boy. He might be a clever eight-year-old boy, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to put this argument forward. This was coming straight from Lisa.
‘You think Sam is overreacting? To Toby, to bullying—’
‘Bullying is a strong word to use.’
‘But he is bullying him. Writing “Fatty” on a small whiteboard and holding it above Sam’s head to make the other children laugh is bullying behaviour, spitting in his sandwiches at lunch is bullying behaviour, constantly calling him names and picking on him is bullying behaviour … ’
‘We did speak about the whiteboard incident and that was a one off. Toby is well aware of how his actions then were too much, but as for the spitting in Sam’s food, I’ll look into this, but no lunchtime assistant has ever—’
‘Sam won’t tell them because he’s frightened. He’s scared to do anything in case Toby reacts badly.’
‘Sam is rather scared of a lot of things, isn’t he?’ Lisa said, and I stared at her. ‘I spoke to Julie, his last teacher. She told me of the things she had to do with him, about the special treatment he got, and I’m afraid I can’t offer the same here. Year four is when the children need to start bucking up and getting serious about their work. I’m afraid that by pandering to Sam’s fears last year, you’ve only held him back.’
‘I’ve held him back?’
She nodded. ‘Not you directly, but I think that a bit of tough love may be in order.’ She smiled, and I was shocked into silence.
I couldn’t quite believe what Lisa was putting forward. I’d expected to talk about how we could make things better for Sam, how we could ensure that he would feel safe in the classroom, not force him into it because of the notion of ‘tough love’.
‘I think you’re wrong,’ I said, and her smile became resigned.
‘Why don’t we try it this way for a couple of weeks?’ she said. ‘I’m the class teacher and I’ve seen this behaviour before. Honestly, believe me, Ruth, what I’m suggesting will work. It will be hard in the short term, but once Sam gets used to how things are in year four it will be better for him. He just needs to get used to our routine. I’ll keep him and Toby away from each other and—’
‘Where have you seen this before?’ I challenged her. ‘Not to be rude, Lisa, but you’ve only just left teacher training. This is your NQT year. Shouldn’t you be going to your mentor to deal with a situation like this? Or speaking to someone with a little more experience?’
Her face hardened. ‘I’ve had years of experience with children,’ she said carefully, ‘particularly children like Sam.’
‘Children like Sam? What is that supposed to mean?’
‘It means that I know what I’m doing. I’ve seen boys like him before, I’ve seen how they behave, in school, and I know—’
‘Is this because of Janine?’ I suddenly asked, and she stopped. ‘How you were talking about forgiving me before? You told me that you’re a good friend of hers, that she’s been very supportive. I understand that you work for her in the school holidays, that you have a bit of tutoring going on outside of school. Is that the experience that you’re referring to? Your private tutoring work?’
Lisa blinked rapidly. ‘I wouldn’t call it work. I just help out when Janine’s stuck, give her a bit of a hand.’
‘I heard it was more than that,’ I said. ‘I heard you’ve been working for her all through the summer and you’ve been getting a nice little income from it.’
‘It has no effect on my job here if that’s what you’re implying.’
‘So John’s aware of it?’
‘John’s aware that some of us do personal tutoring in the holidays, yes. It doesn’t impact on our roles within the school and it’s—’
‘Is he aware that it’s illegal?’
She shut her mouth then opened it again, flapping like a fish.
‘It’s not illegal.’ She gave a laugh. ‘Janine, unlike you, has morals, she wouldn’t do—’
‘You get paid cash, that right? Nothing declared. You don’t pay any tax.’
‘I think … ’
‘Janine is under investigation with HMRC and a journalist is interested in the story.’
The look on her face was priceless.
‘I’m surprised they’ve not been in touch with you.’
Her face went pale.
‘Oh, they have? They’ve spoken to you?’
‘I assumed that was a sales call,’ she said. ‘His message said he was from the paper, and I thought he was trying to sell me a subscription.’
I shook my head. ‘Janine’s under investigation and, what’s more, I’ve heard she’s been employing people who shouldn’t be working with children.’
‘What?’ Lisa sat forward. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I really hope that doesn’t come out,’ I went on, unable to stop myself, ‘because if you’re associated with Top Marks, and it becomes known that Janine has been employing tutors who haven’t had their proper checks done and sending them out to children … ’ I shook my head. ‘It won’t look good for you, will it, Lisa?’
She stared at me, stunned.
‘I’ve a contact at HMRC,’ I told her. ‘They’ve been in touch as the school name came up and they need a little more information.’
‘Information from you?’
‘I am school secretary,’ I told her, standing up. ‘Who do you think is responsible for all the admin, the human resources element in the school? I may not have “personal assistant” in my job title, but it’s what I do. I am John’s personal assistant. I know everything that goes on in this school.’ I was on a roll now, I couldn’t seem to stop the words from spilling out. Lisa was flustered, agitated and I was enjoying it. ‘John asked me to get a list together of the teachers who do the tutoring, to help the council and HMRC, and if the police eventually become involved … ’
Her face blanched. ‘Have you … ?
‘Not yet, I’ll start the list next week,’ I said brightly. ‘And I honestly don’t know what names I’ll pull together. I suppose it depends on lots of different factors.’
She stared at me a moment.
‘If you fail your NQT year,’ I said slowly, ‘what happens then? As I understand it, it’s not something you can retake, is it? You lose it all. Bit harsh, isn’t it? I wonder what you’d have to do to fail?’
She stared at me. For the longest time we were silent, the clock on the back wall the only sound. My heart was beating, a great thump echoing through my body, and I was sweating but I held her gaze.
‘I’ll talk to Sam,’ I said. ‘I’m glad we’ve spoken about it. As you say, you are the class teacher and you know what to do for the best. I’ll check up on him every night and see how his day at school was. I’m sure you’re right, I’m sure he just needs a bit of,’ I paused, ‘tough love.’
I left her with her mouth open, staring after me. I managed to get into the hall before I had to take a moment. I was shaking, my body was starting to shiver slightly. I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. How I’d behaved. Where did that come from? Me getting a list together for the council and HMRC? It must’ve been the photocopy Eve gave me – I thought I wouldn’t use it, but once Lisa started talking like that about Sam it flew out of me. I couldn’t keep the words in. I gave a surprised laugh; it was like a bubble in my chest, there was a soaring sensation filling my upper body.
It felt alien. I wasn’t sure of the emotion. Happiness? Pride? Self-respect? I had no idea what it was, but it felt excellent. It left me jittery and giddy, like I wanted to jump or run. I wanted to do it again. I had to stop myself from marching back into the classroom and repeating myself just so I could see the look on Lisa’s face. So my heart would thump and the soaring feeling would stay. And I wanted to call Glen, I wanted to see him, tell him. Admit to him what I’d done, t
ell him about my chat with Eve, tell him what I’d said to Lisa. So silly to be thinking of discussing it with him, of all people.
I smoothed down my shirt, tucked my hair behind my ears and, after a few deep breaths, went to collect Sam. I imagined Lisa would now be texting Janine, who must have, by now, received notification regarding her tax investigation. She would be forced to admit it and Lisa would naturally panic and, hopefully, also ask her about the woman who shouldn’t be working for her. Perhaps I would never have to use the newspaper photocopy Eve had given me. Perhaps this would be enough. The problem was, it felt so good to finally be able to fight back properly.
I had something, something solid on her and Rob. I imagined photocopying the newspaper article and pinning it up all around school, for all the parents to see. For all the teachers who worked for her to gawp at and happily watch the devastation as it happened. But that would be going too far, wouldn’t it?
Despite Janine attacking me and sending me threatening messages, she was a woman to be pitied. She was someone whose husband was unfaithful and yet she couldn’t leave him. And if what Eve had told me about Rob being unemployed was correct, then Top Marks was the only family income. I couldn’t do that to them, it would destroy them completely. Those poor two daughters, they would go through hell. I couldn’t do that to them, could I?
NINETEEN
That Friday I was filled with dread. I had followed my mother’s and Becca’s advice and, via text messages with Jean, I’d agreed that I’d drop off Sam at her house that evening, and Will could have him on the Saturday night as usual. I was doing it in the hope that Will would reconsider applying for custody. It was the sensible thing to do. If I went ahead and stopped all contact and visits with Will, then it was a sure-fire way to make him go ahead with the custody appeal. But by allowing him to have Sam for the weekend again, I was showing that I was rational. I was proving that I could be diplomatic, that we could continue as normal. That I could be trusted, and there was no need to alter our arrangement, but it went against every instinct I had. What my heart was telling me was something very different. It told me to get Sam and to lock the doors. To stay hidden, keep my son close and stay safe.
It was the end of the school day. Another day of hiding in my office, staying out of the way of the teachers, having as little to do with the parents as possible and making sure there was no more drama. The small window at my office that had always been open was now always closed. I’d taken to depending on the bell if anyone needed me and, surprisingly, it was working wonders.
Now when parents came into the office, when faced with a closed window and blinds almost drawn, they were reluctant to ring the bell for attention. Odd, isn’t it? But I’d hear them come in, and hear them shuffle around for a moment or two. They’d come up to the window, perhaps take a copy of the current letter for the class their child was in, and then I’d hear them leave.
I’d thought that by presenting myself as always on hand, always open, that I was being helpful and assisting. Now, I saw my mistake. I was being helpful, but I was also actively encouraging them to depend on me.
By presenting a closed front, instead of having a barrage of confused parents, as I had thought, there was just a lot less hassle all round. The parents were now reading the letters we sent home, they were checking the website, they weren’t piling up outside my office asking me everything. It was a lot more peaceful and John had noticed. I was in his good books.
The journalist idea I’d had with the travel company had played out excellently. They’d not only promised to honour the lower price we’d originally agreed, but they’d also thrown in a free picnic lunch for all the children. He was delighted, said he wished more people would use their initiative like I had. There had been no more mention of the internal investigation, and no mention of Janine Walker. I’d not seen her or Ashley, her solicitor friend, since. I’d not heard anything else about the whole encounter and, according to Becca, fewer people were now talking about it overall. Another staff meeting had concentrated entirely on the upcoming trip and my name wasn’t mentioned once. And in another turn of events, Lisa had moved Sam to the front of the class to sit right beside her. Toby had returned to school, the pen had been found in his drawer, he was branded the thief and, for once, it looked like things were on the up.
But I’d received another delivery. This time a letter.
Hand delivered to the school office. Why couldn’t she just give up?
It had been pushed under my door, so when I went in that morning, I stepped on the white envelope. It was A4, my name typed on the front.
Four sentences.
YOU THINK YOU’RE CLEVER BUT YOU ARE STUPID
LEAVE THIS JOB
LEAVE THIS SCHOOL
LEAVE CARLISLE OR YOU’LL REGRET IT
I was beginning to think she was deranged. Eve had warned me that she went all out on her daughter, and that was on a child. I hadn’t seen the red Fiat again and I’d convinced myself that I was being paranoid over that, but this letter disturbed me. The whole ‘get out of Carlisle’ thing was worrying.
‘Tell the police,’ Becca said that lunchtime when I showed her.
I bit into my tuna sandwich and shook my head. ‘They were a bit useless when they came to the house.’ I looked up at her. ‘I think they knew my history. They must have looked me up when they took my call and had already made their decision before they arrived. They told me I had a lot of enemies and they couldn’t do anything as I didn’t know who was behind it, as I’ve only got suspicion.’ I put the letter away. ‘At least it’s not been smeared with something.’
Becca wrinkled her nose. ‘Gross. Perhaps it’s not Janine. Perhaps it’s one of her gang, one of the other alpha mothers thinking they’re doing her a favour. Have any of them said anything to you?’
I frowned. Shook my head. They scowled at me, that’s what the mothers did now. They turned their noses up, gave me the daggers. That’s how I knew they were friends of Janine. But would their loyalty make them do this? Didn’t seem likely.
‘You don’t think it’s someone from in here, do you?’ Becca suddenly asked. ‘One of the teachers, or dinner staff, or cleaners?’
I stared at her.
‘OK.’ She shook her head. ‘That was a daft suggestion, but I’m just going through all the possibilities. Who else would want you out of Carlisle?’ She paused. ‘Will? You don’t think it’s Will, do you?’
I took a moment then shook my head again. ‘I thought it might be him but if Will wanted me to leave Carlisle, he knows I’d take Sam with me, so … ’
‘Could you?’
I stared up at Becca.
‘I mean, you can’t, can you? Take Sam?’
‘Why not? I’m only in Carlisle because my father got ill, and now my mum’s on her own, but if she wasn’t here, then –’ I shrugged ‘– I could go anywhere. As far away from Will as possible.’
‘But,’ Becca laughed, ‘is that legal?’
I nodded. ‘I think I can take Sam anywhere so long as it’s in the UK. I could move to South Devon tomorrow and Will wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.’
Becca looked horrified. ‘You can’t do that! What about me? You can’t leave me!’
I laughed. ‘I can’t leave my mother,’ I said, and then after a moment, ‘and you. Who else would bring me never-ending stories of her love life?’
She grinned. ‘And who else would bring you lunch and make sure you were looking after yourself?’
We were silent for a moment.
‘I am worried though,’ I said. ‘I thought it had all stopped.’ I was about to explain to Becca about my call to HMRC, my veiled threat to Lisa, but realised she knew none of it. ‘Thought it had all blown over,’ I went on, ‘but now this?’ I checked the office door was shut. ‘At work?’ I whispered. ‘What if John had seen it?’
Screams and shouts from the playground filtered though. The smells from the dining hall, the sausage and mash that had bee
n made for school dinners, the fatty smell of the oil that had been used was strong and I threw the remainder of my sandwich in the bin.
‘I think you should go back to the police,’ she pressed. ‘In case it is her. It’s like she’s stalking you. Got fixated. You need to report it if nothing else.’
I thought for a moment. ‘Ask them to go around and have a word?’
Becca nodded.
‘I might give the police a ring, log it if nothing else. But then, if they do contact her, she could tell John and you know what he said? No more drama. What will he think if he finds out I’ve been getting letters at school? In my job? And what if she told Will? Told him I was receiving threatening letters and packages? I know he’d use that as another reason for Sam to go live with him.’
We sat for a moment, both wondering what the best thing to do was.
‘I need to think about it,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to make it worse.’
Becca didn’t agree. She thought I should call the police there and then. I said I’d think about it and she left, reminding me that I lived in a remote area, out of the city, in a street that was all holiday lets and occupied by tourists who couldn’t be relied upon. No neighbours watching out for us, no family or friends close by. Her words hung over me all afternoon. Whoever was behind it all was being stupid and ridiculous but they were really starting to get to me.
‘Hey you.’ My stomach dipped. I’d been avoiding him all week, thinking about him constantly and purposely staying away from him. ‘Are you in hiding?’ He pointed to the drawn blinds, the closed window. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me? You’re in police protection or something? You never come out of here, do you?’
I smiled, picked up my bag. John had already left and I needed to collect Sam from the after-school club, feed him and get him ready for the weekend with Jean and Will. I felt low and sick at the thought of it.
‘I’ve been busy,’ I told him. ‘Was it important or can it wait till Monday?’