Beneath a general air of camaraderie, rivalries and disagreements flourished. One of the points of contention was the installation of interactive whiteboards which enabled the use of online resources. The History Department was a case in point, with a clear split between a teacher close to retirement who insisted on encouraging the habit of studying from books, and his younger colleagues who taught using interactive lessons downloaded from the internet. This particular division of opinion provoked heated discussions in the staff room, in which David was the champion of traditional teaching.
As I crossed the room to find a seat, my attention was caught by one of the English department talking animatedly. ‘They’re sent here for an English education and what happens? They end up spending all their free time hanging around with other Japanese students talking in Japanese. And we’re expected to get them up to speed with their language. They might as well stay at home and spend the money on one-to-one English tutoring there.’
One of his colleagues laughed. ‘The fees here would buy a hell of a lot of private lessons!’
‘But they don’t only come here to learn English, it’s also an opportunity to experience the culture,’ another teacher pointed out.
‘Culture? What culture?’
‘We take them to London, and they learn English manners and customs just by being here.’
‘The only thing they learn...’
The sound of the discussion faded, swallowed up in the general buzz of voices as I moved further away. I refrained from pausing to interrupt them to tell them that Nick had plans to increase the number of overseas students attending the school. There were other matters on which I was less reticent, and the responses I received were also irritatingly familiar. A recurrent topic of conversation was the quality of coffee available at break times: tasteless and often lukewarm.
‘You ought to do something about the staff room tea trolley,’ I told Nick that evening.
‘The tea trolley? What’s wrong with the tea trolley?’
‘It’s heavy, and someone has to wheel it all the way from the kitchen to the staff room every day.’
‘That’s their job.’
‘I just think we could have a more efficient way of delivering coffee to the staff at break time. Why can’t they have a proper coffee machine?’
He shook his head. ‘A staff coffee machine is hardly top of my list of priorities. If that’s the way it’s always been done here, I see no reason to worry about it right now. There are more important changes I need to implement before I can turn my attention to that kind of trivia.’
I decided to mention it to David, but he gave me the same answer as Nick.
‘That’s what we do here.’
For a few days after my insulting email, the teachers talked about little else. I listened to as much of the gossip as I could, joining in but guarding against showing an undue interest in the topic. The consensus among the staff was that only a moronic pupil would have sent so puerile an email, and I concurred with the general censure of the adolescent author of the message. Anything that diverted attention away from the truth was fine by me.
‘It’s vile,’ was the general view, summed up by one of the older teachers.
‘Yes, to target an individual like that is nasty,’ a member of his department agreed.
‘It’s bullying of the worst kind,’ a younger colleague said.
‘Cowardly,’ another teacher added. ‘Sending anonymous emails is the pathetic action of a coward.’
‘And to target Sue, of all people,’ the art teacher commented. ‘She’s the most inoffensive person imaginable.’
‘It’s irrelevant who the victim is,’ someone else said. ‘It’s unacceptable whoever it’s aimed at, and the head needs to do something about it.’
‘But what can he do if we don’t know who sent it?’ David chimed in.
Just as the chatter was beginning to die down, a sixth former found out about the email and the word quickly spread. By the end of the day, even the least clued-up pupil had heard about it. That started the chatter all over again, only this time the staff were incensed that the information had been leaked to pupils. From the little I was able to gather, older members of staff blamed their younger colleagues for becoming overfamiliar with some of the sixth form.
‘We’re their teachers, not their mates,’ the grey-haired head of science said to one of his cronies.
Everyone knew what he was talking about.
‘Bunch of cantankerous curmudgeons,’ a young history teacher muttered as she walked past.
It was an argument I had heard many times before, and I paid scant attention to it once I was satisfied that no one had come close to guessing the identity of the author of the email.
Nick was furious the pupils had found out. He talked about little else at home for a couple of days. Finally he issued a memo to the staff highlighting the need to behave professionally at all times, and to bear in mind that they were responsible for maintaining an appropriate relationship with the pupils in their care. After that, the fuss died down, and other issues took over, with a Year Eleven parents’ evening looming.
All the time this had been going on I had been wildly excited, because I alone knew the truth. Even Nick hadn’t unmasked me. At the same time, the fear of discovery was somehow thrilling. I had never before realised how similar terror was to exhilaration. I had to watch what I said, and continued to listen out for any hint of suspicion against me, but another week passed and nothing happened. Soon I began to miss the adrenaline rush of my secret attack, so I sent another message, reasoning that one more couldn’t do any harm. The damage had already been done.
Nick stormed into the house that evening, red faced with anger.
‘There’s been another one.’
He glared at me so furiously, I was afraid he had discovered the truth.
‘Another what?’ I stammered, stalling for time as I tried to think. ‘Come inside and take your jacket off. Cool down, and tell me what’s happened.’
Ignoring my exhortations to remove his jacket and tie, he flung himself down on a chair and told me a second insulting email about Sue had gone around the school. ‘This one calls her a whore!’ he cried out, incandescent with rage. ‘I’m going to find out who’s behind it, and he – or she – is going to be expelled. No second chances. No wriggle room. I don’t care who it is. That stupid child is going to be sent packing.’
‘He’s hardly stupid if he’s managed to send an email to the whole staff without being caught,’ I pointed out quietly, carefully sticking to the idea that the author of the email was a boy. ‘Can’t the IT technicians find out who it is? Surely they can trace all the passwords.’
‘Yes, well, apparently they can’t,’ Nick replied crossly. ‘Somehow the little bastard’s managed to conceal his identity.’ Nick looked at me, his eyes suddenly bright. ‘You!’
I seemed to be drowning, gasping for air. ‘What do you mean?’
Nick was too wound up in his own feelings to notice my agitation, but I vowed that if I managed to talk my way out of this, I would never send another clandestine email again. No amount of excitement was worth terror like this. My whole life was about to crash around me, and I could do nothing to stop the disaster. Worse, I had brought it on myself by my arrogant belief that I was too clever to be detected. Now that Nick knew, the repercussions would be catastrophic.
‘You,’ Nick repeated.
‘Me?’ I stammered. ‘I don’t... I never... ’
‘Yes, you could find out who did this,’ Nick said. ‘That’s what you did in your last school, isn’t it? When that sixth form boy sent round a pornographic image. You tracked him down, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, I managed to trace him. It wasn’t that difficult because he had created a new identity using his own laptop. He was clumsy, very clumsy. So yes, of course I’ll do what I can. You know that. Whatever I can do to help. You don’t even need to ask. That is, you only had to ask.’ Exuberant in
my relief, I was talking too much. Adopting an earnest expression, I slowed down and took a deep breath. ‘Obviously this has to be stopped and I’ll do whatever I can to help. But if the culprit has been using the school system, I’ll need access to the IT office,’ I added thoughtfully.
‘Of course, of course. You can have the run of the place at lunchtime. I’ll have a word with Don.’
The next day, while the IT team were at lunch, I scheduled Avenger’s next email to go out in the evening, while pupils would be enjoying free time before lights out, and I would be at home with my husband. I hesitated over the wording. Having used “slut” and “whore”, I settled for calling her a “slag”. It wasn’t very imaginative, but it would hopefully be enough to put pressure on Sue to look for another job, while no hint of suspicion fell on me.
Chapter 9
As well as obtaining compromising photos of my husband and his secretary, Rosie had found a note which she claimed Sue had written to Nick. It was difficult to know whether to believe that since I had never seen a sample of Sue’s handwriting, with communication at school being almost exclusively electronic. As long as he had no reason to suppose anyone suspected him of adultery, Nick might have felt no need to hide the note, so it was probably still in his drawer. If I could find that note and somehow have it forensically checked for fingerprints, it might be possible to establish whether or not Sue had been romantically involved with my husband, but I had no contacts in the police. Even so, I wanted to look at the note, in the probably vain hope that it might reveal something about the writer. Waiting until Nick was out having lunch with the senior management team, I slipped into the main administration block.
No one took any notice of me as I made my way along the corridor to Nick’s office. Turning the key silently, I glanced around before slipping through the door and locking it behind me. Safely inside, I dashed over to the desk and pulled open the top drawer. Carefully emptying it, I put all the contents down on the top of the desk in the exact same order that I had removed them so they could be replaced without Nick noticing anyone had been rummaging around inside his desk. A pile of letters which I flicked through quickly, a handful of pens, loose paper clips, a six-inch ruler, a couple of propelling pencils, and other assorted small items of stationery were soon stacked neatly on the desk.
There was no sign of a love note anywhere, but I did find a pink envelope. It had Nick’s initials on it and looked as though it was the same colour as the image I had seen on Rosie’s phone. Sick with excitement at my trivial theft, I hid the envelope in my bag and carefully returned all the other items to the drawer. Then I left the office, anxious not to be seen. I could explain my presence quite easily by claiming to have been looking for my husband but if he learned about my trespass, and realised the envelope had vanished, he might suspect I had taken it.
Returning home, I went into the bedroom, wondering where to conceal the envelope while I thought about how to establish whether it had come from Sue. Having considered hiding it under the mattress, or in the bathroom cabinet, or in one of the drawers of my wardrobe, I decided finally that my jewellery case was the only place where no one else might possibly chance to look. Tipping a string of pearls and matching earrings onto the bed, along with a diamond pendant, and all of my less expensive necklaces and jewellery, I raised the velvet base of the box, slid the envelope underneath it out of sight, replaced the black velvet square, and put all my jewellery back in the box. As it turned out, I finished just in time, because shortly after I put my jewellery away I heard the front door slam.
I hurried downstairs to greet Nick in the hall and enquire how his latest meeting had gone.
‘Same old, same old.’ He smiled. ‘It was a very pleasant lunch. Charlie did an excellent job – veal escalope, dauphinoise potatoes, asparagus – it was really very good. How was your morning?’
My preoccupation with searching Nick’s desk, and settling on a hiding place for what I had found there, meant I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I mumbled vaguely about eggs, but it didn’t matter what I said, because he wasn’t listening.
‘We talked mainly about staffing issues,’ he continued with his own train of thought. ‘Appointing a new head of maths in a year’s time could be a problem because the department is so well established, and they’re all a load of stick-in-the-muds, so it’s going to be a tough call for a newcomer to lead them, but none of them wants to step up to the mark. I’m tempted to appoint a young woman. That would shake them up a bit.’ Nick grinned. ‘But we’ve got time. There’s no immediate panic.’
He seemed so focused on school matters, it was almost impossible to believe he was having an affair. Yet I knew how easily lies slipped from his lips. Watching his well-loved face, I longed to forget all about Sue and the hideous photos and return to how we were before Rosie had aroused my suspicions. I wanted my life back. Meanwhile, the stolen envelope lay concealed beneath all the glittering jewellery Nick had given me. Had I been more courageous I might have confronted my husband then and there, or driven straight to Sue’s house and asked her whether she had sent the love note. Instead, I asked Nick what he would like for dinner.
‘I can make you something light later on,’ I suggested, cursing myself for my cowardice.
I was relieved when he told me he had a meeting with the school bursar that afternoon, followed by dinner with the governors.
‘I did tell you I was going out,’ he said. ‘This is where we get down to the nuts and bolts of discussions about the future of the school. The changes I’m proposing are going to mean a lot of work, but it will be worth it in the end. I’m planning to complete the foundations for the new building next summer, so we’re going to need to reach a decision very soon.’
‘It will be a culture change for some of the staff,’ I said. ‘Especially the older ones.’
‘They’re due to go out to pasture soon anyway, most of them. We can’t be held back by a few old codgers.’
‘Good luck with the meeting. I’m going shopping. Do you need anything?’
With the Gala Dinner approaching, we had no official engagements coming up at the weekend, because everyone was busy with preparations for the dinner and ball. Before I drove to the nearest shopping mall, I considered slipping back into Nick’s office in his absence, to return the envelope to the desk drawer. There was a risk I would be spotted, but as long as the envelope was safely back in place, it hardly mattered if someone saw me entering my husband’s office. There could be any number of innocent reasons why I might want to go in there.
The thought of the envelope hidden in my bedroom was making me jumpy. In any case, even if I managed to establish that Sue’s fingerprints were on the envelope, that would prove only that she had handled it, as she did all Nick’s post. There was no point in hanging onto it. I had been an idiot to take it in the first place. Once I reached my decision, I couldn’t wait to get rid of it. I wasn’t ready to confront Nick, nor was I going to speak to Sue about it.
Sitting on the bed, I saw that my hand was shaking as I held the wretched pink envelope. My first thought was to burn it. That way, even if Nick realised it had gone, he would never be able to trace the theft back to me. But if he knew it had been hidden at the back of his drawer before he had gone to lunch, and later discovered it was missing, he would have very few suspects because only I, the school caretaker, and Sue had keys to his office. And there was still an outside chance someone had seen me go to his office that morning. My only really safe option was to put the envelope back where I had found it.
Hurriedly making my way to the administration block, I entered Nick’s office. This time I didn’t care if I was seen. It was the work of a second to pull open the drawer and replace the envelope underneath a few other papers. With the drawer safely shut, anyone could find me in there and it wouldn’t matter. Even so, I had an excuse ready, but no one challenged me, or even saw me as I left.
I could have confronted Nick about the love note, but had chosen not
to. It was irrational, but returning the envelope seemed to have drawn a line under what had been going on. I just wanted to put some distance between myself and the scene of my recent misery. Relieved at my decision, and also slightly regretting my cowardice, I set off for the nearest shopping centre, a quarter of an hour’s drive away. The school was set in acres of woods and farmland in a relatively isolated spot, making it difficult to go anywhere without a car. The location kept the pupils on site, except for a few sixth formers who had their own cars, but it also meant that security was an issue, and the computer labs had been broken into several times.
A weight seemed to lift from my shoulders as I left the school premises behind me. Driving through open fields, with the sun beating down, I felt a sense of freedom, and was convinced that my emails would succeed in deterring Sue from her pursuit of my husband. Certainly they would have made him think twice about continuing his adulterous relationship. If the school governors heard a whisper of a scandal involving him, he would lose his job. He might find another teaching post, but he would never gain another headship. However much he liked Sue, he had too much to lose by screwing around.
Suspicion Page 5