The Secretary

by Zoe Lea

  ‘Well, it’s just a bit … ’ I looked at his writing on the board, thought about the disruption it would cause, how they’d all be irritated without a morning coffee and how no one would be able to directly blame us. It felt devious somehow. Although I agreed with everything he said, it felt wrong to do something so sneaky. ‘It’s a bit passive aggressive, isn’t it?’

  ‘I didn’t put you down for the confrontation type.’

  ‘I’m not,’ I said, ‘but this seems … ’

  ‘Fun?’ he asked, and I laughed.

  ‘No one grabs a snake by the neck,’ he said. ‘That’s how you get bit. No, the way to deal with snakes is beat them with a long stick. Well this is our stick,’ he said with a laugh, ‘and that –’ he pointed to his writing and the drinks cupboard ‘– is a tiny jab.’

  I opened my mouth to ask how often he did this kind of thing, when there was a noise from further down the corridor.

  ‘Trust me,’ he said, ‘this will be far more effective than you going in to John, or filing a complaint, or whatever you’re meant to do in these situations. You’ll get far more enjoyment out of this.’ He grinned, offering his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman. ‘Shall we?’

  I looked at the board. Lisa’s morning was going to be ruined and it felt wonderful. Stupid and silly and juvenile, but as he picked up the full Tupperware boxes, full of my cakes, there was a lightness in my chest that hadn’t been there before.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, taking his arm and left the room with him.

  FOURTEEN

  My mother rang complaining of a rapid heartbeat at seven thirty the next morning. We needed to be on the road at seven forty-five, but I’d foolishly answered on the landline and was stuck talking through her symptoms, which sounded, to me, like trapped wind.

  ‘It’s OK now,’ she was telling me as I tried to get her off the line, ‘but it might start up again at any moment. At any moment.’

  We left, eventually, at eight fifteen, after instructing her to monitor it and, if it came back, ring the NHS helpline. I made promises to call and see her later and dived out to hit all the rush hour traffic. The result was that we arrived at school at eight forty-five. The same time as some of the parents.

  It was inevitable really. I couldn’t expect that I’d be able to avoid her for ever, but that morning it was like she was looking for me. Searching and waiting for me. She hadn’t replied to my text and the silence from her had filled me with anxiety, knowing that she’d read my message but hadn’t answered. I would’ve preferred another threatening text, a one-word answer, anything but the radio silence that made my mind go on overdrive.

  I swung my car into the private car park for staff, rushing Sam to get his book bag, get his lunch box together and come on! And there she was. Loitering around the gates, the only exit from the car park to the school and she was there. As if she had all the time in the world, chatting with a group, Ashley among them, car keys dangling from her hand. They had no business being near the staff car park – the playground where her children should have been was on the other side of the building. A completely different entrance, and yet, there they were.

  ‘Mum?’

  I realised that I was sitting, frozen, in my car, staring at Janine and the group of women around her.

  ‘Mum, shall we go? I thought we were late?’

  I looked at Sam, his face expectant.

  ‘Yes, we are late,’ I told him, and opened my car door.

  I busied myself with my son so I didn’t have to look up, but I could feel their gaze on me. Could feel them staring.

  ‘Mum, you’re hurting.’

  I released my grip on his hand and straightened my back as I walked towards them. My plan was to keep my head down and get past them as quick as I could. No more drama, Becca had warned, no more outbursts, John had told me, and I intended to keep to it. I would just walk past and say nothing. But when I got closer to them, Janine’s voice suddenly got louder.

  ‘Terrible hygiene standards,’ I heard her say. ‘She makes all these grotty little cakes in the kitchen of a rented property and health and safety need to be informed. Thank God Rob was able to change the policy in time or who knows what would’ve—’

  ‘Are you talking about me?’

  I couldn’t help myself. What she was saying was clearly for my benefit; she was waiting for me to walk past so she could insult me indirectly.

  Janine turned to me. ‘I have nothing to say to you,’ she said coldly.

  ‘But the cakes,’ I went on, ‘the cakes you’re talking about. The order you stopped, the cake you pushed through my door the other day, the one with … ’ Sam’s hand was in mine and I stopped myself just in time. ‘And the text,’ I said, ‘I got that, and you’ve made your point, but you have to stop.’

  I heard a laugh and saw it was Ashley, folding her arms dramatically and looking at the other women as if what I was saying was unbelievable.

  I turned back to Janine. ‘I’ve said I’m sorry. And I am, so sorry. I sent you a message explaining everything. I know you read it and I meant every word of it. I didn’t know. I had the same thing happen to me, you see.’ I leaned forward to her, lowering my voice to a whisper, aware that Sam was within earshot. ‘My husband was having an affair, a proper affair that went on for months, so it’s not something I would ever do. I would never be the other woman.’ I looked at the group behind her, the rapt faces all listening in to my attempt at an explanation. ‘And what happened wasn’t an affair, it was a one-time thing and I didn’t know he was married.’ I took a moment. ‘If you want to meet up, chat about this over coffee, you’ll see that I’ve done nothing wrong here.’

  Her eyes went dark. ‘Nothing wrong?’ she hissed, and I felt Sam’s fingers tighten around mine.

  ‘That night, when you … ’ her eyes glanced at Sam. ‘When you did that awful thing, did you know my husband was on medication?’

  I stared blankly at her.

  ‘That’s right,’ she went on, ‘he was out of his mind on painkillers for his back. He foolishly mixed his medication with alcohol and had no idea what he was doing. Couldn’t be responsible for his actions because he was drugged. And then you –’ she stabbed her finger in front of me, not quite touching ‘–take him up to your hotel room and … ’ she shook her head, crinkled her nose. I heard one of the other women mutter something under her breath, which sounded very much like ‘bitch’.

  ‘You’re shameless,’ Janine announced, and there were nodding heads all round. ‘So don’t stand there saying you’ve done nothing wrong. Sending me messages about how you are being lied to. You took advantage of a man who wasn’t in his right mind. He’s disgusted with himself. Absolutely disgusted with himself at the thought of … ’ she put a hand up to her throat, in mock horror, ‘that he did that … with you … ’

  I looked down at Sam, who was staring up at Janine with a horrified expression.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I told him, ‘it’s fine.’

  He looked at me but his face didn’t change, his eyes were still wide.

  ‘I’ve apologised,’ I told her, trying to keep my voice calm for Sam’s benefit, ‘and that’s not what happened, it was actually your husband, it was Rob who … ’

  She leaned in close. ‘We’ve both had to get tested,’ she hissed in my ear. ‘I have never been so embarrassed at the doctor’s surgery.’

  I looked at her, puzzled. ‘Tested for … ’

  ‘I don’t know what people like you have got,’ she said, and I felt as though she’d slapped me, like her words were something physical, ‘what you could have given him that night. Rob couldn’t even remember,’ she said. ‘He didn’t even remember you until you had your outburst the other morning, in front of my children.’

  ‘Your children were in school—’

  ‘And we’ve spoken to your ex-husband. We know all about your criminal record, we know exactly what kind of person you—’

  The school bell sliced through her wo
rds. She turned at the sound, they all did, moving slightly to gather their children and I pushed past them. I was shaking, unsteady on my feet as I pushed past the group of them, and as I did so, I noticed that Ashley was smiling. She was grinning broadly, a delighted expression on her face, and it shook me. It was so at odds with the situation that it was Ashley’s smile that scared me the most as I took Sam to his class and played catch-up with my job.

  It was the afternoon before I got in to see John. He was eating a tuna salad sandwich and his office was full of the pungent smell.

  ‘Come in, come in,’ he said, and a small bit of tomato landed on the desk in front of him.

  The upcoming residential break, the one Glen had put Lisa’s name down for, was proving to be a disaster. Year five were going to a youth hostel up in Scotland for a few days of canoeing, rock climbing and orienteering in the highlands as part of their ‘learning through adventure’, but the youth hostel had upped its prices, claiming that the transportation company they used had increased theirs and thus they were passing on the bill to us. It was totally unexpected, and had come after we had collected most of the funds from the parents.

  I’d been in conversations with them since their announcement, which, apparently, was in their terms. It was a very tiny clause that briefly mentioned the price might increase due to ‘surcharges’. Only I could find no evidence of this in any of the documentation they’d sent to us at the time of booking, and neither could John. It didn’t help our case, but it was something.

  Along with upping the price, the company that organised the orienteering had now declared they didn’t have enough adults to fill the quota of children/adult ratio, hence John trying to rope in more teachers from the school to go with no extra pay. As a result, his face was puce, the sweat marks under his arms large.

  ‘So, no joy?’

  I shook my head and sat down, passing him the emails that I’d printed off earlier.

  ‘They sent these on after we complained. The only small print I could find was a clause that declares they have the right to increase fees due to surcharges such as transportation, but would give appropriate notice period for us to cancel and be refunded.’

  ‘A notice period isn’t what we need!’ hissed John, taking the paper from me, ‘and neither is a refund! We need it at the same bloody price.’ He put the papers down and shook his head. ‘Year five are all set for this trip. I’ll ring this afternoon.’ He paused a moment. ‘I’ll threaten legal action!’ he announced, and I took in a deep breath.

  ‘You could do that,’ I said, ‘but it might be better if you said a journalist was covering the story instead.’

  His eyebrows shot up and I smiled.

  The thought had occurred to me when I’d got to my office after the outburst with Janine that morning. I’d sat at my desk, my face burning with humiliation, and tried to think of what more I could do. How I could salvage the situation. I thought of what she’d said in front of all those women, how she’d been to the doctors to get ‘tested’, and I wanted the floor to swallow me up.

  What had she been saying about me on Facebook? And what would everyone think of me? The parents of the other children in Sam’s class, would they know? I’d hidden my face in my hands and, as was often happening lately, my mind had wandered to Glen. About the whiteboard that he’d messed with and his words of ‘not grabbing a snake by the neck, but hitting it with a long stick instead’.

  And then, as I’d tried to get on with my work, I’d seen the email from the holiday company outlining why they were right in hiking up their prices. It was totally unfair, I’d done all the paperwork, done everything correctly, got the money out of the parents, which had been weeks in the planning. We’d sent the deposit in time, paid the remainder, and now, to find out that they needed more money from us, four weeks before it was due to happen, was totally out of order.

  If the transportation company that they used had increased their prices, then surely it was up to them, not us, to foot that bill? We’d called them, emailed them, but they were standing their ground. It was obvious that, as a bigger company, they could afford to lose us. One residential from a primary school was something they didn’t seem bothered about and it infuriated me.

  I’d thought of Lisa, how the rota that Glen had messed with would be causing chaos, how they’d all be looking for some coffee, and how Glen was helping me because he didn’t like bullies, and realised the holiday company were doing exactly that: bullying us. I’d thought of Glen’s words, about his analogy of how to fight a snake and had the idea.

  ‘If you call, threatening legal action,’ I told John, ‘then I’m sure it will get a response, but perhaps not in the timescale we need it to. They would probably pass you over and wait for you to take advice … ’ I trailed off. John was staring at me, his eyebrows still raised. ‘But,’ I went on, ‘if you rang this afternoon and told them that a journalist from the Telegraph was covering the story, you’d get a much quicker response.’

  ‘The Telegraph?’ John put down the remains of his sandwich and sat back. ‘But I’ve never spoken to anyone from the Telegraph in my life!’

  ‘But they don’t know that,’ I said, ‘and it sounds so plausible. School children unable to go on educational trip because of a greedy holiday company sounds like something they’d cover. It would worry them, and that’s all you want to do. Worry them.’

  John looked stunned for a moment, then huffed. ‘Worth a try I suppose.’

  ‘And if it doesn’t work you can try legal action.’

  He narrowed his eyes at me, then smiled.

  ‘I like your thinking,’ he said, and gave his head a tap, ‘sneaky but smart. Good idea, Ruth.’ A small balloon of pleasure rose in my chest at his words.

  He nodded, picked up his handset and looked at me. It was my cue to leave, but I stayed sitting. He replaced the handset.

  ‘I need to talk to you about something else,’ I began, and he shook his head.

  ‘If you mean the internal investigation with Janine Walker then you’ll have to wait.’ He took the wrapper from his sandwich and screwed it into a tight ball. ‘I’ve just been told of two pupils who are applying for additional support that we don’t have the funds for, another teacher wanting early retirement and three council meetings that they expect me to attend. Could you look at my calendar for next week? There’s some training I was meant to be going on but that will have to be cancelled. And I’ve the holiday company to call now and lie to about speaking to someone from the Telegraph.’ He took a moment. ‘Perhaps I will speak to someone at the Telegraph! Like you say, it makes a bloody good story.’

  He threw the ball at the bin – it missed and lay on the carpet at the side.

  ‘So, in a nutshell,’ he went on, ‘I don’t have the time or the resources to investigate a dispute between my school secretary and some parent who threw her phone at her this week.’ He swallowed and surveyed me. ‘As far as I’m concerned an internal investigation can wait. Did you get hold of your union rep? Tell them it’s on hold, no rush.’

  I nodded. I wanted to talk to him about the staff meeting, about what was said, about how Glen had told me that Lisa, my son’s teacher, wanted me fired. I wanted to tell him about me being discussed on Facebook and how Janine had insulted me just that morning, in front of my son, but I paused, not sure how to phrase the whole thing. However I tried to word it, it made me sound like one of the children. Whining about gossip and people waiting to ambush me at the school gates. I felt ashamed and didn’t know how to protest my innocence in the whole thing.

  ‘This morning,’ I began, ‘Janine and a group of women … well they said some things … ’

  ‘I don’t have time to be involved in tittle-tattle,’ John warned. ‘I’m not interested in gossip.’

  ‘It’s just that, I’m scared she’s starting rumours about me. Saying things to other parents and teaching staff … ’

  ‘I understand that you left some cakes in the staffroom?’ He
gave a nod. ‘Very good of you, to smooth things over like that. I’m glad it’s all back to normal.’

  ‘But I’m not sure it is. I’ve tried. I’ve really tried to apologise, but everyone here seems to be … ’

  ‘Give it time, Ruth.’ He went back to his phone, eager to get on with his work, and I realised I’d already lost his attention. ‘There’s bound to be the odd remark here and there, but after half term it’ll all be forgotten and, if it isn’t, come see me then and we’ll revisit the situation.’

  I said nothing about no one eating my cakes, nothing about how they’d all ignored me. Nothing about how they made me feel. John began to dial and I left him to his phone calls. What could he do about it anyway? Another staff meeting where he ticked off the staff for talking about me. How would that help? That wouldn’t win me any friends. And if he got Janine in, had a word about her insulting me at the school gates, how would she retaliate? File another complaint about my professional conduct? Get her friends to lie about what they saw? I thought of Ashley’s smile and a flush of shame rushed up into my chest. Those women were awful, judgemental and sanctimonious.

  My office was quiet. It was that golden time just before the end of school. Most teachers would now have their class sitting on the carpet in front of them, telling them a story to wind down before home time. I’d had another message from Eve, the woman who’d witnessed the incident that started this all off, asking me to call her. It was about something to do with Janine, something else she’d probably done, and I realised, like John, I didn’t have time for any of it. I didn’t want it to carry on. I didn’t want to feel this way. I couldn’t wait until after half term, I needed it to stop now. I needed my cake business to be bringing in money. I needed to concentrate on Will and his threat to take Sam. I had to work out a way to stop Sam from being bullied. I didn’t have time for Janine and Rob to persecute me. I didn’t have time to fight them. I needed to stop it, to put an end to it all and quickly. I needed to do it for Sam.