by Conrad Jones
He parked his car in the usual spot and grabbed his laptop case. The lights inside the school were already burning brightly. Some of the teachers liked to arrive early to set up lessons, or complete their marking in peace. He took a deep breath and climbed out of the car, into the rain. The indicator lights blinked as he locked it and ran towards the main entrance. He pushed open the doors with his shoulder and stepped inside. The caretaker’s room was empty: door open, kettle on. The administration office was open, lights glowing. Mrs Kelly, the school secretary, was sat at her desk; her trademark packet of mint imperials to her right, a teacup and saucer to her left. She was the first person in the building each morning, and the last to leave each night, although, he wasn’t sure what she did any more. Most of the school secretary’s administration work had been digitalised. The headmaster couldn’t bring himself to make her redundant. He couldn’t recall her taking a sick day in all the years he had been there. She called all the teachers by their surnames. He had been Mr Vigne every school day for eleven years. ‘Morning, Mr Vigne’ on his way in, ‘Goodnight, Mr Vigne’ on his way home. She was like part of the furniture. Richard hoped that the school’s loyalty to her, would be mirrored in his case.
The wind caught the door and it slammed closed behind him, making him jump. His nerves were on edge. Disturbed by the noise, Mrs Kelly looked up. She focused on his face, her expression frozen. He saw the look in her eyes: mistrust, uncertainty and disappointment. She looked flustered, as if she didn’t know what to say. He smiled at her but she didn’t return it. It was like being punched in the guts. Mrs Kelly wasn’t sure if he could be a paedophile or not. His spirits sank a little. He raised a hand in greeting. She had to respond.
‘Morning, Mr Vigne,’ she mumbled, looking down at her desk too quickly.
‘Morning, Mrs Kelly,’ Richard replied, his voice upbeat. It wasn’t the best start. His nerves were jangling and Mrs Kelly’s reaction had done nothing to settle them. ‘The weather is shocking this morning,’ he added. He had to act naturally, as if the allegations were of no consequence to him. It was the only way to deal with the uncertainty that he would undoubtedly encounter. He had seen it in the eyes of his family, it was only natural; human nature made people suspicious. It was part of the survival instinct. He couldn’t expect people to be normal. ‘It was bad yesterday, but today is absolutely shocking. How was your journey in? Terrible, I bet.’
Mrs Kelly looked up and nodded her head.
‘It was terrible, Mr Vigne,’ she agreed. ‘I was soaked by the time my bus arrived this morning.’
‘Was it late again?’ Richard asked, frowning. It was a stupid question. It was always late, but he wanted to get her talking.
‘It’s always late,’ she said.
And when it does arrive, there’s nowhere to sit. He had heard it more times than he could remember.
‘And when it did arrive, there was nowhere to sit,’ she complained.
‘I hope someone gave up their seat for you.’
‘Eventually. Manners and respect for your elders aren’t what they used to be.’
‘It’s time you learned to drive,’ he teased.
‘Not at my age.’ She waved her hand to dismiss his comment, just as she had done for years. ‘It’s too late for that now.’
‘Nonsense,’ Richard said, shaking his head, ‘it’s never too late. See you later.’ He left the office and walked towards the staffroom. Apart from her initial reaction, she had been normal. It was to be expected, accusations like that made people very uncomfortable. If it was somebody else who had been accused, would he feel awkward himself? Of course he would.
He walked down the corridor and took a flight of stairs to the top floor. The caretaker was there, changing a bulb. He looked down from his ladder and saluted.
‘Morning, Ted,’ Richard said, returning the greeting.
‘Morning, Mr Vigne. Shocking weather today.’
‘Absolutely shocking.’
‘I’ll be putting the doormats down when I’ve done this,’ Ted said. ‘Otherwise the little darlings will be slipping all over the place, and we don’t want any broken heads, do we?’
‘Definitely not,’ Richard replied over his shoulder. ‘It’s not the little darlings we have to worry about, it’s their parents. Where there’s blame, there’s a claim.’
Ted laughed, and climbed down his ladder. There was no difference in his manner, although the chances of Ted being online were zero. He wouldn’t be aware of any accusations yet. Richard paused outside the staffroom, his fingers on the door handle for a second. The sound of conversation drifted from inside. His nerves were on edge as he entered. Three of his colleagues were sitting drinking tea; two supply teachers, who he didn’t know very well, were standing next to the coffee machine. Their conversation stopped as he stepped in and closed the door. ‘Morning,’ he said. He could feel their eyes on him, searching for any signs of guilt.
‘Morning,’ they replied in unison. The two female teachers exchanged glances. One of them raised an eyebrow, surprised to see him. The supply teachers walked towards the door and left without saying a word. He didn’t know them anyway. Despite that, they had voted with their feet. He felt the pressure building. ‘Shocking weather out there,’ he said. Nobody commented. ‘Yesterday was bad, but today is terrible.’
‘How much sleep did you get?’ Bill Edwards asked, cutting through the small talk. He was a history teacher, and had been at the school since it opened. He wore a three-piece suit and a dickie bow tie every day; his greying beard showed evidence of his breakfast. Porridge by the looks of it.
‘Not much,’ Richard sighed.
‘I saw some of the activity on the school page before it was removed,’ Bill said. ‘Some people ought to be ashamed of themselves, crucifying a man before they know all the facts.’
‘It’s human nature, Bill.’
‘Pardon my language,’ Bill said, lowering his voice, ‘but who the fuck are these people, making ridiculous accusations like that on a school page?’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Richard replied. He sat down and put his laptop on the seat next to him. Despite Bill’s efforts, the atmosphere was tainted. ‘They’re an online vigilante group with the wrong information.’
‘Wrong information?’ Bill tutted. ‘Well, you need to sue the arse off them.’
‘That’s Celia’s job.’
‘I hope you’ve reported them to the police,’ Bill said, frowning.
‘Yes.’ Richard swallowed hard. Being normal was more difficult than he had thought. ‘They’re going to look into the group.’
‘Look into them?’ Bill said, shaking his head. ‘They need locking up.’
‘I’m sure it will all blow over, once people realise it’s a mistake.’
‘Do you want some tea, while you tell us all about it?’ Bill asked.
‘Yes please. Although there’s not much to tell.’
‘How’s Celia?’ a maths teacher called Susan asked. She had been at the school a few months at the most, and Richard didn’t think they had exchanged more than a dozen words since she had arrived, yet, here she was, asking about his wife. Two-faced bitch. He wanted to tell her to mind her own business, but alienating people wasn’t the best idea.
‘She’s fine, thank you for asking,’ he replied. He half-smiled, but she didn’t return it. She looked straight through him.
‘It must have been a terrible shock for her,’ she commented.
‘It was a bit of a shock to me, to be honest,’ Richard joked. Susan didn’t laugh. Bill handed him a cup of tea. ‘Thanks, Bill.’
‘So, what happened?’ Bill asked, sitting down heavily. He looked at Richard with sympathy; there was no suspicion there, unlike his female colleagues. They believed it was possible. He could tell by their expressions. Richard was gym fit, and popular with the pupils. The older girls flirted around him sometimes, and they didn’t like that. He’s a man, and men think with their dicks – it was written all o
ver their faces. No smoke without fire. Richard sipped his tea while he thought about the answer. He was about to speak, when the staffroom door opened.
‘Richard,’ the headmaster said, popping his head around the door. His white eyebrows dominated his face. He seemed nervous, looking around the staffroom as if he might catch something nasty.
‘Morning, Charles,’ Richard said, greeting him with a smile. It wasn’t returned. It was beginning to look like smiling was a waste of time. His father had told him that a smile would disarm all but the most difficult of people. It didn’t seem to be working today.
‘I was hoping to catch you early. I thought I’d seen your car outside.’ Richard felt his stomach clench. Of course his car was outside. What did he mean, he thought he’d seen his car? He had either seen it, or he hadn’t. There was trouble ahead. The headmaster never came into the staffroom. Not ever. ‘Can I have a word with you, in my office, please?’ He paused, and gestured to the cup. ‘Bring your tea with you.’
Richard stood up and looked at Bill. Bill looked concerned. The females swapped glances again. He’s guilty. Mr Vigne has been screwing a pupil. They didn’t say a word, but that’s what he heard in his mind. He put down his teacup and picked up his briefcase. No one said anything as he left the room. This wasn’t going as well as he would have liked. The headmaster walked quickly towards his office, which was four doors away. Richard lagged a few steps behind. They didn’t speak until they were inside and the door was closed. The atmosphere was tense.
‘I’m assuming you saw the allegations posted on the Internet last night?’ Richard said, taking the initiative.
‘I didn’t see them myself.’ The head frowned and cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the situation. He had always avoided conflict. Some of the more aggressive teachers walked all over him. ‘But I’ve been made aware of them, in no uncertain terms.’ He coughed again. ‘It’s a terrible business.’
‘You realise it’s all nonsense?’
The headmaster didn’t answer. He stood facing the window for a moment, watching the trees bending in the wind; their bare branches threatened to break. He gathered his thoughts before speaking. The silence was deafening.
‘This is a terrible business, Richard,’ he began. ‘A terrible, terrible business.’
‘Look, Charles,’ Richard interrupted, ‘this is all rubbish. A vigilante group has got the wrong information and targeted the wrong man. It’s social media gone mad.’
‘I’ll say it is,’ Charles agreed. ‘Sit down, please.’ Richard sat, and put his laptop on the floor near his feet. ‘How are your family?’
‘They’re shattered by it, obviously.’
‘Obviously.’
‘It’s probably the worst thing a man can be accused of, especially a teacher,’ Richard said, sighing. ‘The twins are mortally embarrassed and Celia looks like she wants to shoot me.’ Richard shrugged. ‘It’s like she’s blaming me for these idiots posting it in the first place.’
‘That good, eh?’
‘Worse, Charles.’ Richard shook his head and squeezed his nose between his finger and thumb. The pressure was increasing. ‘You have no idea what it’s been like. They could have said anything but that.’
‘It’s an emotive subject, especially in our position.’
‘I could hold up a bank and get caught red-handed and people wouldn’t look at me like they are right now. I’ve only been here fifteen minutes and I feel like a pariah.’
‘People are shocked, Richard,’ Charles said.
‘Not as shocked as I am.’
‘You have an advantage over them.’
‘What is that?’ Richard asked, confused.
‘You know whether the allegations are true or not.’ Charles steepled his fingers and placed them under his chin. ‘Our teachers and parents don’t.’
‘Oh, come on, Charles,’ Richard snapped. ‘Anyone could post anything about anyone on that page. It doesn’t mean that it’s true.’
‘Nevertheless, when accusations are made, investigations must follow.’
‘What are you saying?’ Richard felt sick. He had a point: it wasn’t for them to prove he was lying, it was for him to prove he was innocent. He was surrounded by kids every day, the slightest suspicion of wrongdoing had to be investigated.
‘What I’m saying, is that I’ve been on the phone half the night and most of the morning,’ Charles said. ‘Teachers, parents, members of the school board, the governors, the police–’
‘The police?’ Richard interrupted him again. He felt his guts tighten.
‘They have received the same information, Richard.’ Charles looked concerned. ‘They will be investigating the allegations.’ There was a long silence. Richard felt frozen to his chair. ‘You haven’t spoken to them?’ Richard shook his head. He couldn’t find the words to form an answer. ‘Do you know the girl that they’re accusing you of having a relationship with?’ Charles asked. Richard shook his head again. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes, I’m fucking sure!’ Richard snapped. How could this be happening? People were listening to a group of strangers, rather than a man they had known and trusted for years. He took a deep breath and put his head in his hands. ‘I don’t believe this is happening to me. How long have you known me, Charles?’ Charles shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘You know this is all lies, don’t you?’
‘I want to believe it’s all lies, Richard, and if you say it is, then unless I’m persuaded otherwise, with evidence, I believe you.’ Charles stood and walked to the window again. The ledge was cluttered with reference books and wilted pot plants. ‘What I believe is of no consequence to the board or the governors, Richard.’ He turned and looked at him, eye to eye. ‘I have a responsibility to the parents and pupils of this school. You understand, don’t you?’ Richard sensed what was coming. ‘Until this is all cleared up, I need you to take some leave.’
‘Are you suspending me?’
‘No. I’m offering you paid leave while these allegations are disproved.’ Charles raised his hands and shrugged. ‘We cannot take the risk until then. It’s a perfectly reasonable request and, in hindsight, I’m sure you’ll see why I have chosen this course of action. Go and see the police. Sort this out and clear your name, Richard.’ Richard nodded. He could see the sense in it. Charles was backed into a corner, just as he had been. He was a teacher accused of having a relationship with a minor. There were no choices. He had to be removed from the school until proven innocent. ‘If this is an unfounded, malicious attack on an innocent man, it shouldn’t take you long to disprove it, should it?’
‘Everyone will think I’m guilty,’ Richard said.
‘I don’t think they will.’
‘If you suspend me, I mean,’ Richard explained. ‘If you suspend me from my duties, people will think I’m guilty. My kids will be taunted and bullied.’
‘You’re on paid leave,’ Charles said. His voice was calm and soothing. ‘I will personally make sure the twins are not bullied.’ Richard shook his head. ‘I have no choice, Richard. Sorting this out shouldn’t take more than a few days, surely? You have my word, the twins will not be mithered by anyone.’
‘That’s a promise you can’t keep, Charles. The Internet is a jungle at the best of times.’ He ran his hands over his scalp. ‘Imagine what it will be like when word gets out that their dad has been suspended from school for being a paedo.’ Richard shrugged and stood up. ‘Can you protect them from that, Charles?’ Charles looked at his hands. ‘Can you, Charles?’ He waited for an answer, but there wasn’t one. ‘No, I didn’t think so.’
‘Go to the police, Richard,’ Charles urged. ‘Do it before they come to you. Sort this thing out and we can put it behind us and forget it.’
‘What world are you living in, Charles?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Once I walk out of this building, on suspension, the label is fixed, and as far as the twins are concerned, they’ll be burdened with it all their lives
.’ Richard paused. His eyes filled with tears; the frustration was crippling him. ‘Jake and Jaki, the twins whose dad is a paedo, you know them?’ he said. Charles squirmed. ‘It doesn’t matter how or when I prove my innocence, mud sticks – especially for teenagers. Come on, Charles, you know what will happen to them. Please don’t suspend me.’
‘It’s a holiday.’
‘Bullshit. And everyone will say it is bullshit. I’m being suspended.’
‘I don’t have any choice, Richard.’
‘It’s Wednesday today. Give me until the weekend to clear this up. If I haven’t, then I’ll take your offer of leave from Monday,’ Richard said, leaning forward, his elbows on the desk. ‘I’m begging you to give me the chance to sort this out without a suspension.’
‘The governors won’t wear it, Richard. I had to work hard to get them to agree to paid leave.’ Charles stood up again. ‘They wanted you suspended without pay.’
‘Three days, Charles. That’s all I’m asking for. This could ruin the twins’ education. They don’t need this so close to their final year.’ Charles looked like he was thinking about it. Richard could see him considering his words. ‘Come on. I’ve been here for eleven years. When has there been the slightest indication that a child was in danger?’ Charles sighed and shook his head. ‘Please, Charles, don’t suspend me.’ Charles pondered on his words. Richard could see a light at the end of the tunnel. ‘Please. For the sake of my kids.’