A Form of Justice

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A Form of Justice Page 19

by Dawn Marsanne


  ‘God, it’s hot,’ he muttered to himself. Even the fan wasn’t making much difference, apart from creating an inconvenience of having to weigh down all his paperwork. His window faced south and with the hour approaching midday, it was already beginning to heat up like a greenhouse, in fact, sometimes it seemed hotter than his greenhouse at home. Cerebral tasks were becoming an uphill struggle. Roger felt he simply had to take a break so loosening his collar he picked up his sandwiches along with his pouch of rolling tobacco and headed outside to find some shade and hopefully a cooling breeze.

  **

  The Latin class was in progress, and Miss Pugh had divided the form down the middle into two teams, left and right, or sinistra and dextra as she named them.

  The girls on each team were numbered, and when a number was called, that pair went to the front, the teacher read out a question and the girls scribbled down the answer on the blackboard. The first to write it correctly won a point. There was a cheer from the appropriate team when a question was answered correctly. The mood was buoyant and the questions reasonably easy to give everyone a chance.

  Sophie walked up to the front when her turn was called, and as she passed Patsy, she landed a glancing blow on Patsy’s head with her elbow, then feigned a stumble and apologised profusely.

  ‘Oh, sorry, Patsy, are you OK?’ she asked solicitously.

  Patsy glared without commenting. Sophie rubbed her ankle, and as she bent down she whispered, ‘We are going to get our own back on you.’

  ‘Come along Sophie, we are waiting,’ called Miss Pugh.

  As the next question was called out, Patsy’s chair shot forward causing her to grab hold of the desk to prevent herself being thrown to the floor. Eugenia had hooked her feet around the legs and was pushing it back and forth. Patsy was furious.

  ‘Stop it!’ she said, menacingly to Eugenia as she stood up and faced her.

  Her opponent shrugged.

  ‘What’s happening?’ asked Miss Pugh.

  ‘I’m fed up with her,’ said Patsy. ‘She won’t leave my chair alone.’

  The class sniggered.

  ‘She is a bully and I want to move seats!’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ said Miss Pugh, wandering over.

  ‘She’s making it up, Miss,’ said Eugenia. ‘I didn’t do anything. Patsy was tipping her chair backwards and that’s why she almost fell off, now she’s trying to blame me.’ Eugenia smiled sweetly.

  ‘Eugenia, stop messing about and you, Patsy, sit down, we are in the middle of this game and you are holding everyone up. Now, where were we? It’s number ten’s turn now.’

  As the teacher walked back to the front, running her finger down her list of quiz questions, Eugenia slid down in her seat and kicked Patsy hard from behind, where her bottom was exposed by the gap in the seat. Patsy thought about protesting again but realised she would be wasting her time. She swatted at Eugenia’s leg but missed.

  ‘Get up and sit on the desk,’ hissed Susan.

  Eugenia kicked again, pleased that her first attack had provoked a response and this time her foot made contact with the base of Patsy’s spine, right on her coccyx. Patsy winced in pain. It was becoming too much to bear. She was no longer aware of what was happening in the lesson, the sounds were distorted, and she felt detached from it all. An invisible bubble surrounded her. Someone tapped her on her arm but she ignored them, her brain couldn’t cope with any interventions at that precise moment. Something landed on her head, and she felt a wetness soak into her scalp. Automatically, her hand reached up to feel the liquid, it felt slightly sticky as she rubbed her fingers and from the smell suggested orange squash.

  Still in her blurry world, Patsy unzipped her pencil case and fumbled inside, selecting her item by touch, her eyes fixed on the front of the class. She waited for the inevitable third kick, which soon made contact with her lower back but this time Patsy was prepared and scratched Eugenia’s leg with the compass she had removed from her pencil case. A cheer went up from the class when the number eleven girl from the dextra side scored the point, masking Eugenia’s cry when she realised her leg had been injured. The pair of number twelve girls in the teams advanced to the board for their turns and Eugenia stood from her seat, walked up to Patsy and slapped her hard across the back of her head.

  Miss Pugh observed the confrontation and shouted out, ‘Girls! Stop that!’ as she bustled over. But Patsy wasn’t listening. Her ears were deaf to the commotion around her. Tunnel vision descended upon her, obliterating the rest of the class. Now it was just her and Eugenia. The final bout in the long-running saga was going to finish, here and now.

  Patsy stood, looked Eugenia in the eye and stabbed her in the arm with her compass.

  ‘Ow!’ shrieked Eugenia. ‘My arm!’ Eugenia ran towards the back of the classroom as the others stared open-mouthed at the ruckus. Patsy followed her target and lunged at her, stabbing her repeatedly in the arm. Eugenia collapsed to the floor in shock, crying and kicking. A group of girls surrounded Patsy, securing her arms, one of the other girls receiving a slight scratch in the process. Miss Pugh, ran over, flailing her arms and crying out, completely aghast by what had unfolded in her lesson.

  Blood was now seeping into the sleeve of Eugenia’s summer uniform, down her arms and some had transferred to her face as she had held the initial wound, then put her hands to her face to protect herself. A girl ran from the room to seek assistance from neighbouring form rooms, whilst Miss Pugh slumped in a chair, holding her head and willing herself not to faint with shock.

  Chapter 36

  Roger had taken his second tablet at the appointed time, thus his next would be due when he took his mid-afternoon break. He was sitting on a bench in the shade, relishing the gentle breeze which gave some relief from the stuffy confines of the office.

  ‘Hello, Bernard,’ he said to a fellow colleague who joined him on the seat.

  ‘Roger,’ he said, nodding. ‘Roll on winter, this weather is getting me down. I thought I was going to pass out in there just before lunch.’

  ‘Well, I guess it will be raining in August as usual, once the schools have broken up.’ He was in the process of rolling a cigarette. ‘Oh, you don’t mind me smoking, do you?’

  ‘Go ahead. I still smoke occasionally. The wife keeps nagging me to give up, but at least I’m down to ten a day now. I’m going to have no teeth though, I chew a lot of mints!’

  ‘Ha! Perhaps it will cost you more in dentist charges,’ joked Roger.

  His roll-up cigarettes were perfectly executed, almost indistinguishable from mass-produced ones. He lit the end and took a long drag which after a few seconds produced a fit of coughing.

  ‘It’s the coffin that they will carry you off in!’ joked Bernard.

  How many times had Roger heard that painful joke, he wondered?

  ‘Not got any new jokes, then Bernard?’ he laughed. ‘Don’t give up your day job!’

  Bernard looked at his colleague with disdain. That was a nerve, he thought, coming from Roger who was usually so miserable he could make even the most care-free and ebullient person feel depressed.

  ‘Thanks, I won’t,’ said Bernard, flatly.

  ‘Come on, I was only joking, don’t be such a miserable old stick. You need to lighten up a bit!’

  ‘Thanks for the advice, I’ll remember,’ said Bernard, flicking through his copy of the Daily Mail.

  ‘Reading your usual right-wing rag, then I see,’ said Roger, puffing away on his cigarette.

  ‘What’s it to you?’

  ‘Thought you might prefer The Sun. All those lovely ladies on page three that you could ogle. I bet that would be more up your street.’ He laughed and made a gesture indicating a woman with large breasts. ‘Bet you get your porno mags from the newsagent, eh?’

  ‘Roger, are you feeling OK?’ said Bernard, frowning. ‘You seem a bit, er, well I don’t know, I mean, different.’

  ‘Different? Ha, no, I don’t think so. I can’t help it if I
’ve got a sense of humour and you haven’t.’ He punched Bernard hard on the arm.

  ‘Ow, that hurt. I’m going in now. Are you sure you are OK?’

  ‘I certainly am OK, couldn’t be better!’ he winked several times at Bernard who stared hard at his colleague. His behaviour was so out of character it was quite unnerving.

  ‘Well, that’s good,’ he replied, continuing to flick through his newspaper.

  ‘I tell you, I’d feel even better if I could have a quick one with Sally from accounts! Have you seen the tits on her?’

  ‘I don’t want to listen to you any longer,’ said Bernard, folding his paper and getting up from the bench. ‘I’m going in now. If you want my advice I think you should calm down a bit before going back into work? Maybe have some water?’

  ‘It’s not water I need it’s a bloody big drink!’ Roger threw his head back and laughed uproariously. ‘It’s a pity there’s not a pub within walking distance from here. But I’ll have another fag. See you in a minute. If you see Sally tell her to get her knickers off!’

  Bernard hurried back inside wondering whether he’d just dreamt that last interlude. He contemplated whether he should get a first aider to check out Roger, he seemed so strange, but it seemed like telling tales on a colleague. He peeped through a window and observed his colleague who was now on his own, smoking and looking around with a huge grin on his face. Bernard returned to his desk, shaking his head and hoping that would be the last encounter with Roger that day.

  Roger finished his cigarette and continued to laugh away to himself. He appeared to be enjoying some uproariously funny private joke. He took off his tie and loosened the top three buttons of his shirt exposing several inches of chest and chest hair, sniffed at his armpits then wandered back to his office, swinging his tie.

  Instead of heading straight back to his office, he climbed the stairs to the second floor where the administrative section was based. As he reached the top, he felt light-headed, so he held on to the bannister for a few moments until the feeling had passed. Roger tiptoed along the corridor, then peeped in through the door to the Head Accounts section and saw to his delight that Sally was standing at one of the filing cabinets. The other clerical assistants were busy typing or answering the phone.

  Roger, threw open the door causing it to bounce back off its hinges. He bounded in, ran straight up to Sally and slapped her hard across her bottom, laughing as he did so.

  ‘Aghh! What? Who?’ was all Sally could shout. The other assistants stopped what they were doing and stared as if transfixed by some divine apparition.

  ‘Hello, my lovely!’ grinned Roger. ‘My you are looking even more gorgeous today!’

  ‘Get off me!’ Sally slapped Roger across the face. ‘Keep your hands to yourself!’ she cried.

  ‘Don’t play hard to get, you know you are gagging for it!’ shouted Roger, chasing her around one of the desks. He proceeded to strip off his shirt and swung it around like a stripper on stage then unleashed it, so that it flew across the room, landing on one of the desks.

  ‘Go and get Brian! Graham! Anyone!’ shouted Sally to her colleagues.

  Roger continued to chase Sally, completely unabashed, his inhibitions nowhere to be seen. He appeared totally euphoric. His eyes were wide, and he licked his lips provocatively.

  Sally picked up a box file and threw it at him but he fended it away with his fist.

  ‘Oh, you are a feisty one! I like a woman with a bit of fight in her!’ he cried.

  She spotted a glass of water on one of the desks and threw it in his face.

  ‘Oooh, a water fight! You want to play!’

  Sally could do no more, she resorted to her final defence which was a high pitched scream.

  ‘Come here darling! I’ll show you what you’ve been missing!’

  Sally never did find out what she had been missing as Graham, Roger’s manager burst through the door, followed by Brian from security and another couple of employees who together managed to restrain Roger. Sally fled from the office to the Ladies’ toilets accompanied by Jane who comforted her. The events of that afternoon would be talked about for a long time.

  Chapter 37

  ‘Can you put me through to Roger Locke’s secretary?’ said Angela to the switchboard at CantChem. There’s no answer on his personal line.

  ‘One moment, please.’

  ‘Hello, Joyce speaking. How may I help?’

  ‘Er, it’s Roger’s wife, Angela. Is he around?’

  ‘Not at the moment, can I take a message?’

  ‘Oh, well, can you just tell him I’m having to go to the school, I mean his daughter’s school. I need to speak to him about something that’s happened.’

  ‘OK, are you at home?’

  ‘Well, yes, I mean no I won’t be. Sorry, I’m not making much sense. I need to go out immediately so please give him the message and tell him I’ll try to phone him later.’

  ‘OK, Mrs Locke, I’ll give him the message. Bye.’

  Angela hung up and grabbed her bag and keys. She could hardly believe the news from the school, and she was dreading the time when Roger found out about what had been happening. He would be incandescent and what effect would that have on his heart? What on earth had got into Patsy? There must be some mistake, and she intended to get to the bottom of it when she arrived at the school.

  **

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Locke, I have no choice but to suspend Patsy, pending an investigation. Clearly, it’s the last day of term tomorrow, but I have to emphasise there is no guarantee she will be allowed back after the summer holiday,’ said Mrs Stott, sternly.

  ‘I understand,’ replied Angela. ‘I am so sorry about this.’ She was having trouble holding in her emotions. Firstly, there had been the shock of the phone call, and now the full details of Patsy’s behaviour had been revealed she felt like bursting into tears. She’d had her suspicions that her daughter had been suffering from some bullying and she cursed herself that she’d not pressed for more information. Had she investigated further and stood up to Roger, then all this might have been avoided.

  ‘I think it is best if we all take some time to calm down. I’ve explained the situation to you and I’ll be in touch. I’ll be speaking to Eugenia’s parents, and we will have to see what they say.’

  ‘Yes, we’ll go now. Come along Patsy.’ She grabbed her daughter by the arm and marched out of the headmistresses office, covered in shame and still in shock.

  ‘Ow, you’re hurting,’ cried Patsy.

  ‘Be quiet and hurry up. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible.’

  Angela almost slipped down the polished staircase in her haste to escape the confines of the school. As soon as they had left the school building and were at a distance from any prying eyes, Angela rounded on her daughter and gave her a severe dressing down. Patsy had never seen her mother so enraged and thought at one moment that she would also resort to violence as her father had.

  ‘Patsy! I cannot believe what we’ve just heard from the headmistress! It is utterly appalling. What has got into you?’

  ‘I was tired of being bullied. Eugenia deserves a taste of her own medicine. She’s untouchable. None of the teachers will do anything about her as her father pays for so much at the school.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me properly what had been happening.’

  ‘I tried to but you just ignored me!’

  ‘I didn’t ignore you, but you played it down, you didn’t tell me all the details!’

  ‘What was the point? You just do what Dad tells you.’

  ‘I do not!’ Angela paced around, furious at her daughter, her husband, everyone. Her mind was in turmoil, and she was having trouble expressing herself. It was obvious there were two sides to this story, and hopefully, further investigation would get to the truth of the matter.

  ‘If you didn’t trust me to take you seriously why didn’t you tell the teachers?’ shouted her mother.

  ‘I told Miss Pugh th
at Eugenia almost pushed me off the chair, but you could see that she was going to side with Eugenia. Also, before that, I told Miss Dent about Eugenia ripping pages out of my exercise book, but she just sided with Eugenia.’

  ‘But you physically assaulted her! She’s had to go to the hospital to get checked out!’

  ‘I had no choice. She was just going to carry on doing the same.’

  ‘But you stabbed her! That’s assault!’

  ‘I didn’t kill her, she’ll live!’

  ‘But the police have been informed, what if the family press charges? You will have a criminal record and the school will be dragged through the mud.’

  ‘I’m fourteen, they can’t charge me or send me to prison.’

  ‘I feel like shaking you. I’m so angry. My daughter suspended from the school where she won a scholarship. It’s totally unbelievable that you have thrown it all away.’

  ‘My life has been hell. I’m glad to be away from this place. I’ve been picked on for ages.’

  ‘But why didn’t you tell us? I know I’ve just asked you that, but I can’t think straight.’

  ‘You would have made out it was my fault, you always do. Well, Dad would have, and as I’ve already said, you never stand up to him.’

  ‘Look, I can’t be bothered to talk to you any longer. This isn’t doing any good. We are going home. Goodness knows how we are going to tell your father about this. He’s not well, and he’s going to have all this extra stress.’

 

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