Wisps of Wisdom

by Ross Richdale

  Ryan nodded. "You said Felicja was too soft and Michael too bossy. Now Sandra hasn’t come up to your expectations either. It appears that sharing out the acting principal’s job is not working. What are you going to do?"

  Karla sighed. "I'll keep it how it is for this year. Everyone has had a fright and I doubt if any of them will become too complacent in that time. I’m considering going back full time from the beginning of next year, though."

  Ryan’s reaction was unexpected. "No way!” he retorted. "Your family comes first. You are exhausted right now trying to balance them both and in the long run who needs you most? Alexis, Sophia and myself, that’s who." He frowned. "Think back. How many teachers, parents or board of trustees members at your previous schools ever contact you now?"

  "Not many," Karla admitted. "I hear from a few personal friends."

  "That’s right and if say, you got a new job tomorrow as a principal somewhere else, how long would it take for the locals to move on and remember you only during school jubilees or whatever?"

  "That’s life, Ryan but what’s your point?"

  "I think you should take all of the first term off next year. By the end of April, Sophia will be six months old and Alexis four years. We can save money by not having to continue Alexis at the crèche for that time and Sophia will be ready to go there by then. If the school gets run down in that time, so be it."

  "So I just leave it how it is?"

  "No, I would give the acting principal’s position to Michael. He seems to be trying to do his best, whereas the two women are overwhelmed by the responsibility of running such a large school."

  Karla stared at him before she smiled. "You’re almost clairvoyant aren’t you, My Dear?"

  "That’s what you were thinking all the time?"

  "Partly. I thought I could have the first month off next year and ask Michael to be the acting principal."

  "No, make it the whole ten week term, put Michael in charge and if he sinks, what the hell!"

  Karla smiled. "Okay, I’ll do it."

  And she did!

  *

  Isabelle Kensington felt emotionally drained as she stood in the witness box. It was the fifth day of Terrance Hortmyre's trial and she had been there for over two hours. The crown prosecutor had really just guided her when she told her story about how she had been abducted and raped by the man. Thinking back, it was almost a repeat of what she had told Karla all those months before. It was now March, she was seventeen and in her final year of school at Joseph Ward Senior High.

  The defence attorney though, took a different tact with a barrage of questions that appeared to aim at showing that she had exaggerated the whole event and created a fictitious webpage with her younger sister and others to frame his client. She had, however, maintained her dignity. That was until now!

  "Miss Kensington, do you understand the question? Have you or have you not sent provocative nude photographs of yourself to males through any of your web pages?"

  Isabelle stared at the man. "Oh, I understand the question and could give you an answer but find your questioning of the last few moments morally corrupt. Whether myself, my sister or any of the other girls testifying at this trial have sent provocative photographs of themselves to males or indeed other females, is an attempt to paint us as slutty teenagers almost deserving to be raped by this horrible man in the dock." She glanced up at the gallery where she saw her mother and father sitting, while next to them was Karla Spicer. A quick glance across the gallery could find nobody from her own school there. Somehow the sight of Karla gave her that strength to continue. "We are not slutty teenagers, Sir but even if we were that does not excuse him from the horrendous violation of us all. In some ways you are as evil as he is claiming, no doubt exorbitant frees to defend the indefensible. Everything I have stated earlier is the truth and I ..."

  "I wish to object, Your Honour," the defence attorney interrupted. "The witness is making a personal statement and refusing to answer a question asked of her."

  Isabelle switched her eyes to the judge, a middle-aged woman who had said little throughout the whole trial. Their eyes linked for a second before the judge looked at the defence lawyer. "I wish to speak to the defence attorneys and crown prosecutors in my chambers now!" Did her voice sound angry? Isabelle was certain that it did.

  Four attorneys, two from each side of the courtroom stood and followed the judge through a door that closed behind them.

  "Miss Kensington, you may stand down from the witness stand and take a seat," the clerk-of-the-court said. "Remember, though that you are still under oath and may well be asked to continue as a witness when the trial recommences."

  Isabelle grimaced but moved across to a seat an usher escorted her to. Her confidence plummeted for she was certain she had overstepped court protocol. To her, the trial turned out to be a sham, especially as it now seemed that because of her outburst, it would be abandoned, or even worse Hortmyre would be freed through some stupid technicality. He was the first of seven men charged with offences as an aftermath of the raids and, in some ways was the main one for all evidence pointed to him being the mastermind of the whole paedophile ring. If this trail failed to convict him or even only find him guilty of minor charges she heard that charges against the others might not even come up in court. In her eyes, it was grossly unfair that witnesses like herself and the other girls were treated with such distaste by obnoxious lawyers.

  Fifteen long agonising minutes later the four grim faced lawyers returned, followed by the judge after the clerk asked everyone to stand.

  The judge waited until everyone sat down and the room became silent before she turned to the jury. "Though unusual, I will allow the statement by Miss Isabelle Kensington to remain." She eyes turned to Isabelle. "Miss Kensington, please return to the witness stand and answer the question that the clerk-of-the-court will reread, without further elaboration."

  Isabelle listened and faced the defence attorney who originally asked the question. "No, I have not sent nude photographs of myself to any internet sites, public or private."

  The lawyer looked grim but somehow defeated. "That is all, Miss Kensington. You may step down."

  Isabelle just stood there almost in a daze before the crown prosecutor spoke to her. "Nobody will be asking you any more questions, Isabelle. Thank you, you may leave the witness box and also this courtroom, if you wish."

  *

  The trail lasted another day but Isabelle, Stella, their parents and also Karla were there for the judge's summing up before sending the jury away to deliberate. Three hours later they filed into the courtroom and pronounced that they had reached a verdict.

  There were numerous charges in all with lesser charges if the defendant was found not guilty of a more serious charge.

  However, on every original charge the chairperson of the jury, a soft spoken women who Isabelle had to strain to hear, replied guilty to every charge, including seven charges of sexual violation of a minor, a similar number of abduction for the purposes of sex, causing grievous bodily harm and other offences that Isabelle wasn’t even sure what they were.

  Her chin trembled as Stella and her parents hugged her before she noticed Karla standing behind them. She reached out for her hand into what turned into a hug. She knew, somehow that if she had not approached her, this trial would not have even been held and the ashen-faced man in the dock would probably be continuing his foul attacks.

  But the judge was talking. "Terrance William Hortmyre, you have been found guilty of all the charges brought against you. You shall be sentenced by this court on the fifteenth of May this year and will remain on remand in custody until that date." She fixed her eyes on the man. "Expect a long custodial sentence, Mr Hortmyre. The crimes that you committed will​ not be tolerated in our society."

  *

  After the same contractors who assembled the new block at school, laid the concrete floor for Karla and Ryan's new modular home, it went up in a week but took two more to hav
e everything connected and ready to move into. Unlike the school block, Warm Sunshine Construction had made almost no alterations to the original plan of their chosen home that had sold in Europe, North America and Australia. It was a two storey, double garage home that was in the middle price range of those available. Four bedrooms and two bathrooms were upstairs while a large open plan living area covered most of the ground floor with another small room that could be used as another bedroom but Ryan decided to make his computer room. The exterior was cream artificial wood with a black tiled roof. A new driveway had been laid beside the shop and even a new lawn had been rolled out to complete the landscaping. It was now well into autumn so there would be little garden growth before spring.

  Overall construction took one month compared with around ten months for a home built in the traditional way. More important, though was that with the discounts allowed by letting the firm advertise and have visitors and reporters view and record every stage of the construction, they saved a quarter of the construction cost.

  The Spider's Revenge and Hair Smile stores still occupied their building on the street front and Ryan had leased the apartment above the shops to the proprietor of Hair Smile. With all the visitors to see the construction of their home the salon had had their busiest month since opening their doors. With their reasonable prices and friendly atmosphere it was likely that they would continue to do well even after the foot traffic to the new modular home ceased.

  Both Alexis and Sophia were growing like mushrooms and Karla enjoyed being just a mother and helping Ryan in Spider's Revenge. She was, though, looking forward to returning to school for Term 2 at the end of April. She had stuck to a promise to Ryan to stay away from school but found that Michael rang her quite regularly with reports about school life. He had risen to the occasion and from all other reports she had heard, was doing an excellent job as acting principal. Across at Westview Intermediate, Belinda was also doing well and didn't really need Karla's visit. Under pressure from the school's board of Trustees, Peter Niles had moved his retirement forward to the end of Term 1 and Belinda had been appointed as the new principal at Westview. This meant that her position as Deputy Principal at Joseph Ward would be advertised.

  Perhaps more unexpected was with Michael who asked if Karla would be a referee for various positions that he was considering applying for. She had no hesitation in doing this and wrote a positive evaluation of his ability, including his present acting principalship of their school. In mid-March she received three calls from boards of trustees from schools. One even queried her about the problems she had had with him and his selection of more sporty out-of-zone students. She downplayed the incident and stated that, in her opinion he would make an excellent principal of their primary school.

  An excited Michael called her two days later and said that he had an interview for this very position. A week later an even more excited call from him said that he had been offered the position as principal of Luke Street Primary, a four hundred-pupil school on the other side of Auckland.

  This now meant that there were two DP vacancies at their school. Karla accepted Jon's request to go on the selection committee. They selected two new deputy principals, both women, to begin the same day that she returned to school in Term Two. One came from a principalship of a small rural school and the other was a subject dean from Joseph Ward Senior High. Both positions had been well sort after and the final selection had been difficult. Karla would have liked to select as least one male to replace Michael but the few men who had applied were well down their list of rankings and failed to be even short-listed. This was now common with fewer men being attracted to the teaching profession in New Zealand.

  *

  When Karla answered the phone she expected a call for Ryan but instead an upmarket voice asked to speak to her.

  "Karla speaking."

  "Good afternoon Mrs Spicer, this is Annette O'Sullivan, chairperson of St Clare's Girls' School speaking. You have probably heard of our school here in Auckland."

  Karla had heard the name but not a great deal more. "You are a private girls' boarding high school, I believe Ms O'Sullivan."

  "Call me Annette."

  "And likewise I am Karla."

  "Thank you Karla. We are an independent girls' boarding and day school catering for Year 7 to 13 students."

  "So how can I help you, Annette?"

  "Our principal for fourteen years, Miss Cheryl Dunstan, is retiring as from the end of July this year and I'd like to extend an invitation to you to apply for the position as principal of our school. Our Board Of Governors has decided to open the applications by invitation only to highly regarded educationalists, hence this call to you."

  "I see," Karla replied as she gathered her thoughts. "This is an unexpected call and I will need to know more about your school before deciding whether to accept this invitation or not. I wish to point out, though that I have only taught in state schools."

  "That is of no consequence, Karla. As I said, we are looking for a top performer and have thoroughly researched your professional and academic background. Without making any commitment of course, would you like to visit us to see what our school offers its students?"

  "Possibly," Karla was not about to commit herself. "I will need to know the details of the position including safeguards, a sample contract and how my superannuation rights would be maintained by moving from the public to private sector."

  The woman gave a slight chuckle. "We heard you are extremely thorough. I can have full documentation emailed to you or you can pick it up if you decide to visit us."

  "Email it to me, please. As you stated, you have researched my background and I will need to do the same about your school. I assume you have a web site and the Education Review Office would have their latest review of your school available online. I will contact you if I'd like to make an initial visit to see your school in operation."

  "Yes, we were reviewed last year and received an excellent report. I can give you the exact page to go to and also our school's webpage. They are..."

  Karla wrote the site names down, thanked her and ended the call. She frowned. Somehow, she didn't feel excited, perhaps curious but that was all. The part about the Board of Governors opening the applications by invitation only, sounded elitist to her.

  "Go and have a look for you have nothing to lose," Ryan said a few moments later. "I doubt if anything will escape your notice but make sure any contract is rock hard. Want me to check up on your rights if you switched to the private sector and any info. about the school? The press delights in dragging up any dirt about this type of school. If anything has happened there over the last couple of decades, it will be online."

  Karla nodded. "Yes, I know nothing about teaching in private schools."

  *

  St Clare's Girls' School was in one of the upmarket inner suburbs of Auckland and had a park-like campus with a long curving driveway that ended in front of an ornate brick building that could have been uplifted from England. Beyond this building, though was a modern three storied classroom block that in many ways reminded her of the ones back at Joseph Ward. Further around the driveway but out of sight she knew there was a boarding wing that catered for two hundred and fifty girls of the eight hundred total roll.

  She parked in a designated visitors' park and stood by her car for a moment to glance around. It was nine thirty and the grounds were largely deserted. A groundsman was mowing a nearby lawn and three girls in blue kilted uniforms walked across an adjacent tennis court. A well-dressed woman in her forties walked out the front door and a moment later introduced herself as Annette O'Sullivan.

  "I'm to be your guide," she said. "Our principal, Miss Dunstan sends her apology."

  Karla hid a frown for she would have liked to talk to the woman and regarded it as a snub. Or did the selection committee want her to stay away from prospective candidates?

  "I hope she is not ill, " she said in a tone that hid any trace of sarcasm.

>   "Oh no, just busy that is all."

  Karla said no more about the topic as she followed Annette into a foyer that was all traditional with photographs of previous principals along one wall above four glass cabinets that held cups and ribbons. Each cabinet had a different coat-of-arms imbedded in a sliding glass door. In the middle of the foyer was a circular table with an enormous vase of flowers in the centre.

  "Our four houses," Annette explained. "As well as sports, we have inter-house drama, musical and academic cups and ribbons to compete for."

  "And where is student's work displayed?" Karla asked.

  The woman hesitated as if she was not expecting an interruption to her prepared speech. "In the corridors and classrooms," she muttered and nodded at a framed noticeboard on the opposite wall. "Our roll of honour includes the names of each year's school dux and famous old girls. Two present members of parliament are listed there as well as numerous doctors, lawyers and university professors."

  Karla nodded but said little as she followed Annette through to the administration area. This was traditional, dark and somewhat poky. Even the empty principal's office was smaller than her own one back home. In contrast, the classroom blocks were modern and well equipped. Girls in every room that she visited were industrious and Karla noticed quite a high proportion of Asian girls but few Maori girls while the teachers were all women dressed in formal business suits with skirts. There was not a trouser suit like the one she now wore in sight. This dress code was even worse than the one she had relaxed at her own school.

  Also noticeable were the smaller class sizes compared with at home. During her tour, an old-fashioned bell rang and the girls moved almost soundlessly between classrooms with serious looks on their faces. This was a distinct difference from Joseph Ward where the students chatted and laughed as they moved around the school.

  The gymnasium, art rooms and science laboratories were impressive but the dining room where every girl, even the day students ate a provided-for dinner, looked cold and formal compared with their own modern one.