‘I can’t believe they let it go on.’
‘I don’t expect they know. Matt says this sort of thing can remain in the underbelly of student gossip for ages without the authorities knowing.’
‘Does he think this will make it come out?’
‘Having it mentioned on radio? Who knows. I doubt the university authorities monitor student radio too closely, so unless someone mentions it to them, it may remain hidden. On the other hand …’
‘So we just have to wait and see.’
‘I guess. University campuses are rife with rumour and gossip. I’d say there’s a fifty-fifty chance of it going higher up. But whether they do anything about it is another matter.’
‘What about other media? Do you think they’ll seize on it?’
‘Well, we won’t, I can promise you that. There’s too much potential for libel — it’s just gossip at this stage. Matt says they won’t say anything more. As for the other media, who knows?’
She promised to let me know if she heard anything else, but after I put the phone down I didn’t feel any better than before. In fact, worse. Fifty-fifty was a pretty high ratio. I put my head in my hands, closed my eyes and thought for a minute. Was there anything I could do to stop the gossip spreading, or was it really just wait and see? I thought of the arsenal of tactics I had at my disposal to deal with most communication issues, in particular how to keep things out of the media. But somehow, having my daughter at the centre of the issue made it impossible to think clearly. None of my usual tactics seemed to apply. It looked as though I really was going to have to be patient.
There was a tap on the door and Tracey called out, ‘Penny, are you available for a minute?’
‘Hang on.’ I stood and composed myself, trying to brush all thoughts of Charlotte aside, and opened the door.
‘Your sister’s on the phone. She says it’s urgent.’
‘Okay.’ I sighed. My family would be the death of me, I thought, wondering what new horror had unfolded in Stephanie’s life.
But she was all sweetness and light, positively chirruping down the phone.
‘Marcus and I are off to our island hideaway this afternoon. Isn’t that wonderful?’
‘Fabulous.’ I tried to sound enthusiastic. ‘Hope it goes well.’
‘It’s my shout. I’m taking him to this divine resort with heavenly spa treatments and an Ayurvedic massage therapist, where we can find ourselves again. Together. It’s just the perfect solution. I know it’s going to work. It’s in the stars.’
‘Fabulous,’ I said again. I knew better than to question Steph about her astrological predictions. She was a true believer and I was a heretic.
And that was it. I couldn’t believe it. For once she didn’t want anything or to complain about anything or talk endlessly about her problems. Moments later, she was gone, eager to pack whatever flimsy apparel you need when you’re planning on spending most of your time spreadeagled on a massage table or under your husband in a desperate bid to atone for past indiscretions.
It was only after she’d hung up I realised I was once again in sole charge of Mum and Dad. If anything happened she would, as usual, be thousands of kilometres away and I’d have to deal with it.
‘I’m totally over my family,’ I announced to nobody in particular, opened up my laptop and threw myself into my work for a change. There was a lot to catch up on. A string of unopened emails and a backlog of PR plans to compile and press releases to write. Where to begin? It was Friday and thanks to my ineptitude the day was almost half over already. I could see the weekend being taken up with trying to catch up on work.
I scanned through the emails and made myself focus on the most pressing ones. Then I started on a comms plan for the launch of a new specialist law firm. I was almost finished when Tracey popped her head around the door and asked if I wanted anything from the deli for lunch.
‘Goodness, how time flies when you’re working hard,’ I laughed. ‘I’d love a sandwich please. Anything will do. You choose.’ I handed her some money and got back to my plan, thankful that the phone had hardly rung at all.
I was munching on my chicken salad sandwich when a call came through on my mobile from a number I didn’t recognise.
‘Is that Ms Rushmore?’ a male voice asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Adam O’Neill’s mother?’
‘Yes,’ I said warily, wondering what he’d been up to now.
He introduced himself as the school’s office manager. ‘I’m afraid an issue has come up with the school computer system, Ms Rushmore. Would you be able to come in and see the principal at three o’clock, please? It’s rather urgent.’
I looked at my watch. It was just before two. I’d have to leave the office in half an hour to beat the start of the traffic. I sighed. ‘Yes, I’ll be there. Is there anything else you can tell me?’
‘Not over the phone. I’d rather not. Oh, and can you bring Mr O’Neill with you, please?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ll try.’
He ended the call and I slumped back in my chair, feeling as fearful as when I was summonsed to see the headmistress at high school. I phoned Steve’s mobile. No reply, so I left a message imploring him to be at the school at three if at all possible. ‘I don’t know what this is about, but obviously Adam needs you, and so do I,’ I concluded.
Of course I couldn’t focus on work after that, no matter how hard I tried. I finished off the plan and handed it on to Ginny to check then made a start on the next most pressing task.
‘I’ll be back after four, all going well,’ I explained to Ginny as I shot out the door at two-thirty.
‘I wouldn’t worry too much,’ she said. ‘I was always in trouble at school. I’m sure the formative experience of thinking of excuses all the time has prepared me for what I do today!’
‘Well, that’s a consolation,’ I grinned. ‘I should take you along with me.’
‘Happy to oblige.’
‘One look at those legs and the headmaster will forget all else,’ I said. Ginny was wearing her signature short skirt, mesh tights and three-inch stilettos.
However, I arrived at the principal’s office alone. No Ginny and no sign of Steve. Typical, I fumed, never there when I needed him. When the going gets tough, the men get going faster than the speed of laddering pantyhose.
I had to wait in the foyer for what seemed an eternity, my anxiety levels rising sky high. By the time the principal’s secretary showed me through the door into his inner sanctum, I was a blithering mess.
Adam was already in the principal’s office, perched on the edge of a chair, with a strange look on his face — I couldn’t tell if it was terror or triumph. His eyes were shining, his cheeks were flushed. He grinned nervously at me.
‘Sorry about this, Mum,’ he whispered.
Sorry about what I was soon to find out.
‘Ms Rushmore, please sit down,’ said the principal, who introduced himself as Geoffrey Hayman. ‘Is Mr Rushmore — er, Mr O’Neill coming?’
‘I don’t know. I left a message. … it was short notice.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry I had to call you in so hurriedly, but I wanted to talk to you as soon as I could.’
There was a knock and an extremely harried and grumpy-looking Steve came through the door. He apologised for being late, introduced himself to the principal and shook his hand. I could feel my shoulders unhunch a little with a modicum of relief.
Steve took the remaining chair and Mr Hayman continued. He looked at Adam and frowned, then switched his stern gaze to us.
‘Thank you both for coming. What I wanted to tell you is that we’ve just found out that your son has hacked into the school computer system. In fact, I think he’s been hacking into it for some time.’ He paused and looked at Adam again. ‘Isn’t that right, Adam?’
‘Er, yes.’ I could swear Adam was looking pleased with himself. I could have clouted him. ‘Yes, Mr Hayman.’
‘And over that time,
he’s had access to a lot of private information. For example, exam papers, personal details about our students and their grades, all sorts of information he shouldn’t have had. I’ve just been trying to find out exactly what he did access and what he did with it.’
‘Nothing, sir. I didn’t do anything with it.’
‘It appears that Adam is telling the truth. As far as we’ve been able to make out, he hasn’t used any of the information. His test results haven’t improved …’ Here he looked at Adam even more intently and frowned again. ‘ … and he hasn’t passed on anything to other students, as far as we’ve been able to ascertain.’
‘Oh,’ I said, stunned. Steve didn’t say anything but his face was like thunder.
‘Adam is undoubtedly a bright boy, but he seems to have had personal problems this past year or so, is that right?’
Steve remained mute. It was up to me to answer.
‘Yes, there’ve been a few changes at home. I told you about that at the time.’
‘Indeed, Ms Rushmore. You did indeed. And I believe one of our teachers, Mr Henderson, had cause to speak with you recently about Adam’s lack of attendance at school?’
‘Yes,’ I said, wondering where this was going.
‘Well, his attendance has certainly improved since then, but his attention span hasn’t. His marks are still way below what he could be achieving for a boy of his intelligence. His relationships with his peers are practically non-existent. Instead of putting any effort into his studies or his social life, he has clearly been focusing all his energies on the lonely and unethical enterprise of hacking into our computer system, abusing the rights and the privacy of others. And I’m afraid that is something we take very seriously.’
‘I see. Of course.’
‘I’ve spoken with Adam and now I’m going to ask you both what you think would be a fair course of action for the school to take under such circumstances.’
Steve was staring at Adam as if he was about to throttle him. I knew exactly what he’d say if he had a chance, so I started to burble.
‘Er, I suppose he has to expect some sort of punishment for his actions,’ I said, looking at Adam and wondering what would make him repent. ‘Something that would really hurt him, like no access to computers or the internet for a long time.’
‘That’s a possibility,’ the principal said, drumming his fingers on his desk. ‘Another possibility I need to put on the table is, of course, expulsion. What Adam has done is dishonest and he knew it was dishonest when he was doing it. And dishonesty is just cause for expulsion.’
Adam looked horrified. It seemed the seriousness of his actions had finally hit home.
Steve cleared his throat and gripped the arms of his chair, but still he said nothing.
I gasped audibly. ‘Expulsion? My goodness, that’s …’
‘Harsh? Indeed, that is indeed harsh, Ms Rushmore. And I’m not sure that we’ll be taking that course just yet. But I want you all to know that expulsion is very much on the cards. I’m prepared to give Adam a one-month probationary period, which will get him through to the end of the year. It will mean he can take the exams he needs to pass so he can go on to his final year. But I’m warning you — and especially you, Adam — that if there is any further trouble, anything at all, you’re out. Understand?’
Adam nodded, any sign of his earlier smugness wiped from his face.
‘If you have to leave before the school year is out, before exams, your academic career is over, do you understand that as well?’
Adam nodded again.
‘Very well, then. You’re on trial. And your mother has made a good point. You will only be allowed supervised access to the computers here. Your school password will be rescinded and you will have to have a teacher with you at all times. I expect your mother and father will have their own thoughts about what will happen at home.’ He looked at me and I nodded in acquiescence.
‘You can be absolutely sure, Mr Hayman,’ Steve said between clenched teeth, ‘that this will never happen again. I will see to it that Adam behaves properly from now on.’ Steve looked witheringly at me, as if it was all my fault, and stood to go. ‘Thank you for your understanding, sir.’ He took the principal’s hand and shook it, then stood behind Adam, waiting for him to stand. When he did, Steve propelled him from the room by his elbow. I followed in their wake, wishing I could be magically transported far, far away.
Looking like he was on the brink of a meltdown, Steve manoeuvred Adam at high speed all the way through the administration building to the car park with me clattering behind on my high heels, trying to keep up. When he reached the car, he pinned Adam up against it and let him have it, shouting at the top of his voice. He called Adam a lot of unpleasant names for the shame he had brought upon the O’Neill name.
‘How could you do this to me?’ he demanded. ‘This is my old school. I worked hard here. I was in the first fifteen. I belong to the Old Boys’ Association. I still go to their rugby matches. You’ve ruined my good name, you little shit.’ He drove his fist into the palm of his other hand as if restraining himself from thumping Adam with it.
‘Steve, please don’t yell at him like that. Everybody can hear you.’
I looked around. The car park was deserted; there wasn’t a soul in sight.
‘I don’t care if the whole world hears,’ he bellowed. ‘And you should be ashamed of yourself, too. What were you doing all the time he was shut away in his room on the computer? Did you ever stop to think how unhealthy it is for a boy his age to be sitting on his arse day and night? He should be out on the rugby field like I was at his age, learning teamwork, making friends. You should have done something about it.’
I was gobsmacked. How did this suddenly all become my fault?
‘Don’t you think I haven’t tried to get Adam more involved in things? Of course I have. But you can’t force a sixteen-year-old boy to do something he doesn’t want to do. He hates rugby. He always has, but you’d never listen, dragging him out year after year to “play like a man”. He’s into other things, just not team sports.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like fixing engines with his father,’ I said spitefully. ‘He doesn’t get to do that much any more.’
‘Oh, come on. He can come round to the apartment and work on the Triumphs any time he likes.’
‘It’s not as much fun for him there as in our mucky old garage. You can’t make a mess or bring oily rags into the apartment.’
‘Jacinta doesn’t mind.’
I struggled to hold down a mighty guffaw welling up inside me.
‘Really?’ I said, raising an eyebrow quizzically. I knew perfectly well Jacinta had an attack of the vapours at the merest hint of an oily rag or a spot of engine grease invading her white-on-white temple. But there was no point in starting a row about her. I changed tack. ‘He had other hobbies, too.’
‘Like?’
‘Like diving,’ Adam chipped in, finding his courage and his voice at last. ‘I used to go diving but we can’t afford it any more.’
‘You never told me that.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ I said. ‘I didn’t want to have to ask for money.’
‘You can’t tell me he’s been behaving like this just because he can’t work on engines or go diving.’
I thought about it for a moment. He certainly missed dive school and the trips out in the boat, and I recalled how, after his father left, he would often potter aimlessly around in the garage looking for something to work on. I would have put money on it: I was sure Adam’s loner behaviour had a lot to do with Steve suddenly deserting us last year — with the desertion itself and with all the changes and deprivations that went with it. But this was neither the time nor the place to have a row about that either.
I shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
He turned back to Adam. ‘So why did you do it, then? Why did you hack into the school computer?’
It was Adam’s turn to shrug this time. ‘Dunno.’
/>
‘You don’t know? You must know. You don’t do something as stupid and dishonest as that without having a reason for it.’ Steve’s voice was rising again.
‘To see if I could do it.’
Steve looked nonplussed. ‘I don’t understand. There are over a thousand kids in that school and yet you’re the only one who wants to root around inside the school’s confidential information.’
‘No, heaps of the kids want to do it. I’m the only one who’s actually done it. This year anyway.’
‘What? You mean other kids have tried?’ Steve looked around disbelievingly, holding his hands up to the sky as if an answer from on high might be forthcoming.
‘Yeah, course.’
‘And you’re the only one who did it?’ Steve was starting to look at Adam more appreciatively. ‘Well, how about that?’ He grinned and patted Adam on the shoulder. ‘That’s my boy.’
Adam grinned back, clearly relieved the ear-bashing was over. ‘It wasn’t that hard. There were guides on the system to show you how to do it. Some of the other boys had got in but they hadn’t worked out how to get through the firewall into the confidential information.’
‘You could have a career in computers. You could go far.’
‘Steady on, Steve,’ I said, holding up my hands. ‘Illegal hacking isn’t the way to start a career in anything.’
He looked at me and checked himself. ‘True. That’s true. But just the same …’
‘I don’t want to work in computers, Dad. I want to be a marine biologist. I always have.’
‘Well, you’re not going to be a marine biologist if you don’t pass your exams and you won’t be passing any exams if you’re chucked out of school, so I suggest you pull your finger out and do something about it.’
‘Yes, Dad.’
‘You’re going to have to help him, Steve,’ I put in. ‘You can see I can’t do it alone. He needs his father to guide him.’
‘What? You’re suggesting he come and live with me for a while?’
‘If that’s what it takes.’
Adam looked appalled.
‘Maybe week about?’ I suggested. ‘If we each took it upon ourselves to give him five weeknights of our time once a fortnight, we should be able to do it.’
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