by L. V. Hay
‘We’re under no obligation to arrest anyone at a more convenient time, madam.’ The younger of the two police officers proffered a sarcastic smirk. ‘Now, if you would step aside?’
Lily shouted something about calling his mother, a lawyer and even the PTA as he clambered into the police car; Sebastian simply nodded.
The ride to the police station was a blur. He’d been in one before, but only on school open days when the police would show the children their equipment and talk them through the lighter parts of what they did. Sebastian had never expected to be on the wrong end of their work. The notion of criminality had been a concept to him; its consequences were something that happened to other people, not him. Besides, it had just been a tussle with Maxwell. Sebastian had seen far worse at boarding school; and coming from that world too, so would Maxwell. How the hell could that silly scuffle have led to this?
Sebastian was booked in by an older, male desk sergeant with short, tightly woven dreadlocks and a weary expression. Sebastian had to hand over his belt and shoelaces, plus his phone and wallet, just like in the movies. He’d expected to be shown straight through to an interview room, but the desk sergeant said he would have to wait. There was a race meet on at Epsom, he explained, so they were full to the brim with pickpockets and scam merchants. Great.
The metal clink of the door slamming behind him made Sebastian want to vomit. A hot feeling coursed through him and his vision was a little blurred. Sebastian felt as if he had left his body: he was staring down at a hollow-eyed, sunken-cheeked pallid man in a six-by-eight dingy cell.
Then, he was back.
The stench of stale urine and body odour assaulted his nostrils, making him feel woozy. He sat down on the bunk, which creaked under his weight. Sebastian could not bring himself to lie down. He sat forwards, head in hands.
Finally, after what felt like years, the door opened again. A woman in her forties appeared. Instantly, he could tell she was not police, but a lawyer. She was dark, like Lily, but she had a creased brow, as if everything disappointed her. She wore jeans and an unironed top, like she’d thrown her clothes on in a hurry. In one hand she had a tatty notebook and a chewed biro; in the other, a roll of quilted toilet paper.
‘Here you go; what they give you in here is like tracing paper.’ She chucked the toilet paper onto the bunk. ‘Well, this is a pickle, innit?’
The lawyer’s accent was more street than Sebastian expected. She sat down on the bunk with him, introduced herself as Soraya Campbell and confirmed that Lily had called her. Apparently, she’d found her on Facebook.
Soraya took him through the charges. And to his surprise, she told him to deny everything.
‘But I did it,’ Sebastian said.
‘Sebastian – I can call you Sebastian, right? – what do you reckon is gonna happen if you plead guilty to assault? Goodbye to your headmaster’s job; goodbye teaching. That’s what. Now, I’ve already spoken to your wife and she says Maxwell has been gunning for you both since you got married, probably before. So what’s the point of falling on your sword?’
Sebastian finally acquiesced. Afterwards – it was impossible to tell the exact time, though it must have been night by then – he and Soraya were shown into an interview room. Two plain-clothes detectives – one white man, one female and east Asian – were waiting for them. Soraya appeared to recognise them, which was somehow reassuring. She must have done a lot of business at that station.
‘Thought you guys would have bigger fish to fry.’ Soraya’s tone was half joking, half serious.
‘It’s been mad today. Just trying to clear the decks.’ The man yawned, tugging at his crotch absentmindedly as he crossed his plump thighs.
He nodded at Sebastian. ‘I’m Detective Meyer, this is Detective Inspector Su.’
‘Okay,’ said Soraya. ‘My client wants to get out of here. He’s a model citizen, pillar of the community, blah, blah, blah. And we all know this other guy is making it up, cos he’s jealous. C’mon.’ Soraya flashed Meyer and Su a brilliant smile.
Su’s gaze alighted on the lawyer. ‘I’d like to hear from Mr Adair.’ There was a trace of an accent to her speech; Geordie or Liverpudlian, perhaps.
Soraya did not break eye contact. ‘He has nothing to say.’
‘What a pity.’
Sebastian’s gaze moved from one woman to the other. He could sense the antagonism coming off them both in waves. Soraya was the type to go in fighting, no matter what. Su was not much different. They were alpha females, determined to make a difference in their respective worlds, clashing like stags.
Some three hours later, Sebastian was finally bailed and released. Soraya went out with him into the vestibule and gave him her card. She told him she doubted very much he would be called back in for more questioning, but not to go anywhere for the time being.
He’d expected to have to pay a bail fee. He’d started to take a credit card out when he was given back his wallet, but according to Soraya, that was only in America, or for the most serious of charges in the UK. Feeling embarrassed and considerably less worldly than he had that morning, Sebastian put his wallet away and bid Soraya and the weary desk sergeant goodnight.
He emerged into the night air and breathed it in, grateful to be free. Even the orange streetlight glinting on a Coke can lying in the police car park seemed beautiful. His roiling stomach began to calm down at last. What was he going to say to Lily? He recalled Soraya’s words. There was no point throwing himself on his sword. He’d tell her Maxwell was a liar. It wasn’t so unlikely, after all.
‘Over here, darling!’
The familiar voice pierced his thoughts. Sebastian turned to find his mother standing by her car. She was smiling, no judgement on her pale face. This made him feel worse. Under the light of the streetlamp she looked small, frail. She shouldn’t have come out to get him in the middle of the night. Unexpected tears welled up in his eyes. He strode into her outstretched arms, burying his head in her shoulder as he wept.
She stroked his hair, her soothing words washing over him. ‘There, there,’ she cooed at him, like he was a little baby. ‘Let’s get you home, darling.’
Twenty-one
‘Look. I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.’ Sadie, Madison Taylor’s yummy mummy, and head of the PTA, sat her yoga-sleek form back in her chair, folding her perfect, snow-white arms. ‘Our very own head teacher arrested … at school!’ She took in the shocked faces, held rapt by her words, then fluttered a weak apology towards my husband. ‘Sorry, Sebastian. I’m just thinking of the children here.’
My hands clenched around my cold coffee mug. I didn’t trust myself to let go. I might just start screaming and never stop. Or worse, break down and cry. I couldn’t believe what was happeni. Damn you, Maxwell.
‘We’re aware of your opinion on the matter, Sadie,’ Harry said, adjusting his Homer Simpson tie. He was feeling the pressure, too. With Sebastian in the hot seat, it had been decided Harry should lead the meeting.
Across the table, Sebastian’s gaunt face seemed to sag under all the scrutiny. Several governors were openly hostile, staring angrily at him. Injustice flooded my insides.
Sebastian’s expression had been earnest when he’d finally arrived home, past midnight, from the police station. ‘I swear Lily, I never touched him,’ he’d said.
I’d cast my eyes down towards his hand. There were scratches on the back of his knuckles. I’d spotted them at dinner the previous night, before he’d gone on his run, but he said he’d caught them on the car door. He was telling the truth; he had to be. Maxwell probably hit himself somehow, trying to set Sebastian up. It wouldn’t be outside the realms of possibility. Nothing was when it came to my ex-husband. Sebastian couldn’t lie.
Not to me.
‘Let’s approach the situation logically, shall we?’ The voice at the back was clear, not a sign of a tremor in it.
Everyone’s heads turned. Fran was sitting a small distance away from the table, in a c
hair beside the window. She’d become a governor of Avonwood shortly after Sebastian became head teacher, but she did little other than turn up to meetings. Today she was dressed in black, her long, thin hands folded on top of the blood-red patent leather handbag on her lap. Her shoes matched her bag perfectly. She looked out of the window at the common as she continued to address us.
I felt a rush of optimism at the sound of authority behind her words. If anyone could help call the governors to order and make them see sense, it was Fran. Despite her physical frailty, she was commanding and unflappable in the muggy room, especially in comparison to Sadie. The other woman scowled at my mother-in-law.
‘There have been no charges—’ Fran began.
‘Yet,’ Sadie added sourly.
My mother-in-law pursed her lips. ‘In the absence of a witness, or even a charge, then I think we can all agree Sebastian is innocent until proven guilty, no?’
There was a moment as the room digested this.
‘Sadie’s right. They arrested him in front of the kids, for God’s sake!’ Another woman sat forwards. Simon Tucker’s mum. She looked just like him: fleshy lips and floppy hair.
‘That’s hardly Sebastian’s fault,’ Fran pointed out.
‘It is if he thumped the guy!’ Simon’s mum shot back.
‘If is the operative word.’ Fran folded her arms, waiting for the counter-response. There wasn’t one. She smiled, victorious.
Harry blew out his cheeks as everyone turned to look at him again. He raised his hands in the air. ‘Let’s hang fire, shall we? It’s nearly the summer holidays, just ten days to go.’
There were murmurs of both agreement and discontent. I looked questioningly at Sebastian – did this mean the board of governors wasn’t suspending him? Seeing the relief shimmer across his face was enough. My stomach unknotted itself.
Harry rose from his seat. He clapped one hand on his superior’s shoulder, showing his support – not just for Sebastian’s benefit but the whole room’s. Small smiles were shared around the table. Sebastian was generally well respected by the teachers, parents and governors, not least because he was such a young man in such a senior position. Sadie didn’t share the positivity though; her face was like thunder, her mouth screwed up tight like she was chewing wasps.
‘This will all be resolved by September,’ Harry said, ‘you wait and see.’
As the rest of the governors, teachers and PTA members filed out, I decided to catch Fran before she left. Standing apart from the others, aloof and calm, she was a stark contrast to Sebastian, who was huddled with Harry again, muttering.
When I touched the older woman’s arm to gain her attention, her gaze alighted on me, surprised, as if she’d thought herself alone.
‘Fran, thank you so much for going in to bat for Sebastian there. We really appreciate it.’
Fran smiled and momentarily the lines around her lips and eyes betrayed her real age. ‘My dear girl, what else would you expect me to do?’
I felt wrong-footed. ‘I mean, thank you for believing Sebastian. That he didn’t hit Maxwell, I mean.’
Fran’s smile dropped from her face. She cast a furtive glance to the few other members of the PTA still chatting nearby. She lowered her voice and took a step closer to me. ‘You’re not telling me you do believe him?’
There was a sharp tone to her words that cut through my trust in my husband’s innocence in an instant. It felt like a physical blow. My shoulders sagged under the weight of the truth.
Of course Sebastian had hit Maxwell. Who wouldn’t have? Maxwell’s behaviour had been despicable and relentless. Sebastian would have had to have the patience of an angel to withstand it, especially if Maxwell had baited him on purpose. Which he likely had done. Everything that Maxwell received, he had asked for. That did not bother me.
What did was that Sebastian had lied to me.
Fran must have noted my stricken expression because she leaned even closer. ‘Don’t be too harsh on him, dear. He’s just trying to adjust to this new situation of yours, just like you and the boy.’
Then she patted the back of my hand sympathetically. I smiled, grateful, wanting to hug her for stepping in and helping us again. Instinctively, I knew she wouldn’t like that, so I held back.
Across the room, still besieged by Harry, Sebastian stared after his mother then back at me, a question in his eyes. It was clear he was trying to gauge whether or not I knew about his transgression.
I had a split second to decide: did I let on that I knew my husband had lied to me about hitting my ex? While I wished Sebastian had told me the truth, part of me felt like Maxwell deserved everything he got. What a mess. Besides which, if this came between us, then Maxwell would win again – just like he had when he’d taken Denny from after-school club.
Finally, I returned Sebastian’s gaze and smiled.
Relieved, he smiled back.
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Twenty-two
‘Typical!’
The alarm rang at six-thirty, as we’d agreed the night before. Sebastian was already awake. Groggy, I rolled over in the direction of his voice. It was far too early for a Saturday morning, especially after yet another hectic week. Still, we were into July now and the summer holidays were five days away. I couldn’t wait.
‘It’s been good weather for weeks, so of course the storm arrives the day of the fête.’
Daylight spilled into our bedroom. He stood next to our bed, at the window, already dressed, his back to me. The dormer window in our bedroom looked out onto a brick wall, and he was craning his neck so he could see the sky, the dark black clouds rolling overhead. I could see and hear the cause of his dismay: raindrops slammed against the windowpane and wind rattled the frame.
I sat up and rubbed sleep from my eyes. ‘It’ll be okay.’
‘People stay in when it’s shitty weather. We need the funds! This is all we want – especially with that bloody inspection any day now.’ Sebastian’s posture slumped.
I stretched and rose to my feet too quickly. The blood rushed to my head and I tottered forwards a step. Finding my voice, I said, ‘We’ll move most of the stalls under the football canopy. The bouncy castle can go in the upper gym. We can do the majorettes and the other demos in the lower gym.’
I was glad now I had paid attention during the fête meetings and had seconded a suggestion for a bad-weather contingency plan.
Sebastian turned towards me, impressed, and grabbed me around the waist. ‘This is why I married you. You keep your head in a crisis.’
‘I
hope that’s not the only reason.’ I kissed him on the lips. ‘Now make me some coffee while I get in the shower.’
Sebastian gave me a mock salute. ‘Yes, ma’am!’
As I padded into the bathroom, I logged in to the school website on my phone. On the front page of the blog was a poster for the fête. As I waited for hot water to reach the shower through the maisonette’s ancient pipes, I updated the blogpost with a short message in bold: STILL GOING AHEAD DESPITE BAD WEATHER.
Then I dragged myself under the spray of water, as hot as I could stand it. Drying off, I dressed for comfort: jeans and a T-shirt, zip-up hoody, ponytail. It was going to be a long day. Feeling refreshed and more awake, I joined Sebastian in the kitchen.
‘Hi, Mum.’ Denny was already seated at the table, swinging his stick legs and flicking through a comic.
‘Hi, sport.’ I ruffled his hair. There was jam around his lips. ‘Looking forward to today?’
Denny nodded, wide-eyed. Like most kids, he loved school fêtes. Sebastian had warmed some croissants through and one sat on a plate next to a large mug of black coffee. Blackberry jam sank into the buttery pastry. Realising I was ravenous, I picked it up and devoured it in a few bites.
We arrived at school at about quarter to eight. In the staffroom, a bunch of teachers’ kids perched on small chairs, drawing and colouring at an undersized red plastic table. Kelly from after-school club sat with them, wrapping gifts for the lucky dip. She attempted coolness as I caught her eye; she was still embarrassed about letting Maxwell take Denny. I decided to be the bigger person.
‘Thanks Kelly, you’re a star,’ I told her as I took Denny over.
She smiled. ‘Don’t mention it.’ An overpowering smell of antiperspirant wafted from her and there was old mascara smudged under her eyes. I wondered if she’d even been home yet.