‘It’s something we’re working on at the moment. Sorry – I have to take this.’ She might have raised the phone to her mouth but she spoke to Pat. ‘You might be interested too.’ And they walked away, leaving me on my own in the empty hall.
My office felt deeply unwelcoming: I felt like a child suddenly abandoned by grown-ups. But I wouldn’t howl. I must make myself think. Think like an adult. Where had my thoughts, my logic been during the last twenty-four hours? It was time for me to do what my therapist had recommended – to find a place of calm and silence and centre on myself. Only that way could I start focusing on other people.
But where on earth could I find such a place of refuge? Not in this school, not in this village: that much at least was certain. All I could do was laugh at myself and adjourn to the staff loo with a notepad and pencil – low tech but often effective to help clarify my thoughts. I was literally on my way there when I had a text from Richard Morris. Rosie was home from hospital and would really welcome visits from her friends at the school. Did I recall promising to take her some work? Could I manage it today? She was getting bored already.
Would a walk provide just the period of calm I needed? I was deeply tempted. Then I realised that it might help me, but it would hardly help the staff who would have to interrupt their already chaotic schedule in order to organise the individual assignments Rosie would need. Perhaps I could ask them to do it at the end of school? And perhaps I couldn’t! They needed their freedom and whatever relaxation time at home could provide. I texted back: I was sorry to disappoint Rosie but we had problems at the school that required my presence. With luck I would be able to come and see her some time over the weekend. I didn’t add that producing work would be my responsibility.
He responded with a glum-face emoticon.
I was tempted to text a cross-face one back. Surely as a governor Richard could imagine the chaos that would have prevailed but for the staff’s dedication? Surely even as an ordinary villager he would know how much pressure we were all under? Why had I not made a stand on day one, and every time since when they’d burdened me or my colleagues unreasonably? I had been supine, appeasing. Even the loo mirror showed my posture had collapsed. There I was, round-shouldered and hunched, as if trying to make myself invisible. I reviewed my body, joint by joint. There: I was standing tall literally, and prepared to do so metaphorically. Back at my desk, I sent an email to Dawes, copied to the rest of the governors. Then I headed for the staffroom.
I might have knocked on the door, but I didn’t wait for an answer before I entered. You could almost hear the swish as eyebrows shot up – Pat’s included.
I sat down uninvited. I used the words I had used in my email to the governors: ‘I think it’s time I was updated, don’t you?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
My chair, slightly higher than the others, gave me an authority I was determined would not be spurious. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I have responsibilities to my staff and to my pupils. I have responsibility to their parents and to the community at large. I cannot carry out my duties unless I know at least the part of your investigation that is relevant to me and my school. Are we agreed?’ In turn I eye-contacted each one, intent on triggering some long-dormant responses to Teacher – some not so long-dormant, too.
‘Pat’s always been your victim support officer, hasn’t he?’ Mandy said reasonably, as if that would make me back out of the room in gratitude.
‘Yes, he has. And no one will ever know how grateful I am to him. He’s saved my sanity and indeed saved my life.’ I hoped my smile conveyed everything except love. ‘However, if you people see me as just a victim, you will feel sorry for me and that may cloud your judgement. On the other hand, if you think my life is really in jeopardy, I would like to know what you are offering in the way of actual protection.’ Experience had long taught me that showing controlled anger was better than getting shrill-voiced with hysteria. ‘However, although much of what has been going on has been directed at me, the real victims are surely Rosie and Emma. And maybe – if children turn out to be the perpetrators – they will turn out to be victims themselves.’
More eye contact.
‘What’s your gut feeling?’ Mandy countered. It looked as if it was going to be just the two of us in the conversation.
Very well. ‘It wasn’t a child that installed those cameras throughout the school and in other locations, was it? And let’s not forget that the first probably arrived some years ago – something certainly happened to make Mrs Gough stop using what were then changing rooms and turn them into stockrooms. And most but not all of my troubles began when I changed the stockroom locks and started to clear them out. Ask PC Lloyd Davies.’
She made a note. ‘But there’s nothing in the staff meeting minutes – your Melanie’s a gem, isn’t she? – to explain why Mrs Gough took the action she did. Nothing. Did she challenge someone about them? Or simply keep quiet? Could she have challenged someone and been told to say nothing? I’d really like to talk to her, you know. Only it wouldn’t half stretch our budget to send someone out to talk to her.’
‘Skype?’ I ventured.
Her smile verged on the patronising. ‘The techies are on to that.’
A pale-faced young woman nodded.
I found myself telling them about the bunch of flowers meant ostensibly for Mrs Gough that I’d somehow forgotten about – the sort of amnesia I use to deal with unacceptable memories.
Mandy’s face registered a range of emotions I’d not expected. ‘Shit! What a nasty, malicious thing to do! Flowers are such a personal gift,’ she added, as if needing to apologise, or perhaps excuse her emotions to her team. ‘One of your disgruntled staff? Not that they don’t all speak highly of you. You know how animals gather round an injured herd member to protect it? That’s how they seem to be with you. Seem,’ she added more reflectively. In the same breath she added, ‘Prudence? Could the flowers be one of her tricks? Don’t look so gobsmacked. I’ve heard all about Prudence, remember. She seems a remarkably unusual child.’
‘Who, as you know, is not in school today,’ I admitted. ‘Look, she is an odd child, probably because she is amazingly gifted and has no equal amongst her peers to cut her down to size. And her parents do all they can to build her ego, not always to her benefit. They never let her simply be a child.’
One of the officers chipped in, ‘One of the lads I spoke to said she never read the books the school provided – always “grown-up” ones. Personally I wouldn’t have wanted my kids to be reading We Need to Talk About Kevin.’
I must have looked as disconcerted as I felt. ‘My God! Even so, I can’t see her killing one of her cronies. No and no and no.’
She and the team exchanged a look. I didn’t dare ask why. But they were going to tell me anyway.
‘It’s not just that Prudence isn’t in school today. She and her family are not at home. None of them. They’re not responding to calls or texts. So I’ve put out a call for her. You know I have to. Because it’s a short step from the playground – much shorter than from your office – into that stockroom. And I find it inconceivable that she doesn’t know something about what went on. As a witness, at this stage, Jane, as a witness.’ She got up and put a hand on my arm. ‘We have to, you know. And we have to talk to Robert, too – we’ve already contacted his mother. She’ll be present.’ She sat down again.
I found myself setting my lip like a sulky teenager, and tried to make my expression look like a professional’s frown. ‘I still think it’s an adult pulling their strings. Blackmailing them, if you like, into doing appalling things.’
‘I hope so. I really hope so. And I’d like your thoughts on who that might be too.’
‘Someone with easy access to the school until I changed the locks. Which meant a larger number of people than you could imagine. And even after I upped security someone who still managed to get in. It ought to narrow the field. So possibly a governor, possibly one of the Open the Book team.
Or possibly even a contact of our cleaner. Melanie will have all their details.’
‘Including the cleaner’s?’
‘Val. To my shame I don’t even know her surname.’ I’d never needed to.
A young man slipped out of the room.
Mandy glanced at Pat. ‘Pat actually did some highly illicit research last night, which we’ve managed to make official.’
‘About the governors. I didn’t have time to tell you, Avo, what with one thing and another. Sorry.’
‘Hard to talk with asthma.’ We exchanged a grin.
‘Before we share our information – Pat’s information – tell us about your dealings with them, Jane,’ Mandy said.
‘As you’ve all probably gathered, I’ve not had the best of relationships with the governing body as a whole, once they’d appointed me. There’s been both collective and individual hostility. So all I could offer is possibly prejudiced opinions. I’d like to hear what you found, Pat. Especially as one of them wants me to have dinner with him tomorrow and another wants me to visit his grandchild this very day. Oh, and a third wants a face-to-face talk about hiring the village hall. I told him to talk to your team, Mandy.’
‘Give you dinner? That’d be?’
‘Brian Dawes.’
‘Jesus! You’ve not accepted!’
‘As if. And the guy with the granddaughter is Richard Morris. Rosie is the one who had her arm injured in the playground accident.’
‘Or possibly playground assault,’ she corrected me. ‘Interesting. The third governor? The one wanting a face-to-face talk?’
‘The vicar. Mark Stephens. He’s been fairly supportive.’
‘Thank goodness someone has!’ She smiled briefly. ‘What about contact with other governors, male or female?’
‘What I must say is that when there was the major crisis with Rosie, all the governors behaved impeccably. Several, including Brian Dawes, remember, came into school to help interview possible witnesses.’
‘So where the school is concerned, they behave professionally; it’s only you they seem to be targeting. Do you find that reassuring? I thought not. Now, the witnesses to Rosie’s fall would include Robert, Prudence, Sophia and Emma.’ Mandy didn’t need to check her notes. ‘And who helped you, apart from Dawes? Mrs Tibbs and Mrs Walker? Yes? And have you had less than happy contact with any other governor?’
‘One nearly knocked Mark over,’ I said lightly. ‘Running out of church. Had to take his child swimming. Toby Wells.’
‘So the child would be Sophia. Hmm.’
Pat looked at me quizzically. ‘A slight, whippy-looking guy – might have been into athletics at one time? I remember him bolting while I was talking to someone else. About my police commitments in Brum. Off like a rocket, he went. But then a lot of people don’t want to stand next to policemen.’
‘I should imagine,’ I said, ‘that you all already know he’s not Mr Popular in the village. He’s an ex-pupil, but wasn’t apparently liked while he was here. Fetched up at a public school and came back here. He sold the cricket field for housing. Capital offence. He’s regarded more as an incomer than a native.’
‘Pretty much the mark of Cain, that,’ Mandy observed dryly. ‘Is there a Mrs Wells?’
‘Oh, yes. She accused the school of dereliction of duty when her daughter dropped out of music without telling us or her. And Sophia continued to leave the classroom at the times the teacher assumed she was having a violin lesson. Robert Bowman, too. But his mother supported us all the way.’
‘Prudence?’
‘No. Wouldn’t you know it? She’s a talented musician who practises regularly. But we think it was she who tried to ruin the music teacher’s reputation by making a vile accusation to the local press.’ I couldn’t stop myself asking again, ‘What is it that’s driving those children? Who is it?’
‘Ah,’ Mandy said, as another young woman slipped into the room, followed by an older man, ‘we may have an answer. Perdie and Don, two of our techies. Well, guys?’
Their faces answered. ‘Whoever installed the devices has disabled them. None of them is transmitting any more. Not here, not in the caretaker’s house, not in Dove Cottage. There’s nothing at all to enable us to trace them back. Sorry.’
Pat was the one who responded. ‘No problem: it’s back to good old-fashioned police work, isn’t it?’
Mandy responded to his cheerful irony with a straight face. ‘That’s fine when you’ve got the officers to do it. Excuse me: I have to take this.’ She didn’t move away from us, simply frowning and snapping, ‘OK.’ Ending the call she said, ‘I’ve got to go. Now. To Maidstone to fight for a budget. Bloody cuts!’ She stood. ‘Sorry, Jane, I’ve no choice. We’ll get search warrants for all the governors’ properties. Males and those females whom Jane has specifically mentioned. Team: you’ll all report to DS Thomas when he gets back from the dentist.’ She overrode audible groans. ‘Needs must when the devil drives. Meanwhile, Pat is officially on secondment to us. Because although we think we’re on to some paedophile ring, I’ve still got this feeling in my water that some of this is personally directed at Jane. As for these invitations coming out of the blue, Jane, I for one wouldn’t advise you to accept any of them. Or any others.’ She was halfway out of the door when she turned to me: ‘That guy Tom. Is everything OK between you? Only he was up for your job, wasn’t he? And not everyone takes defeat graciously.’
‘Like bloody DS Thomas,’ someone muttered.
‘This is crazy. We have a whole meeting supposed to be about the governors and I still have no idea what you dug up,’ I told Pat as we stood in the middle of the playground drinking yet more coffee. Safely back in the village hall. the children, having had yet another cold lunch – I dreaded what Ofsted would have to say about that! – were now writing about or drawing things they’d seen on their crocodile walk.
‘That’s because you gatecrashed – quite superbly! – a meeting about something else. You can’t really blame Mandy for not being totally prepared when you tore up her agenda.’
I couldn’t, could I?
‘I wouldn’t want to be leading a major enquiry with her resources, I can tell you. If you’re this far from cracking up, she’s only this far.’ His fingers moved from a few millimetres apart to about a centimetre. ‘And she’s got the media on to her, of course.’
‘At least the governors are dealing with that side of things.’
He gawped. ‘And you’re saying that’s a good thing? Just don’t read the papers, girl. Or check your phone. If it’s not all over the national media it’s only because someone with bird flu-like symptoms has landed at Heathrow, and politicians are scared, very scared. Now, I will spill every single bean about the governors, promise, but it should be somewhere no one can overhear – and no one can interrupt, either,’ he added, as I gestured ironically at the empty expanse. Even as I did so, of course, as if to prove his point, not mine, Dougie and Tamsin of the Open the Book team waved from the other side of the playground wall. There was no question of asking them to risk their limbs on the sheet of ice, so we teetered over to them. I was ready to perform formal introductions, but they greeted each other with the relaxed flap of hands that suggested they’d been talking before I turned up last night.
‘Now I realise that you’re the man with the wonderful singing voice!’ Dougie said. ‘As it happens, I’m part of the Invicta Operatic Society: we’re desperately in need of someone capable of taking the male lead in our next G and S. I don’t suppose …?’
‘I’m sorry. My secondment here is only temporary,’ Pat said, with no hint of the sarcasm that amateur operatics, and Gilbert and Sullivan in particular, often elicit.
‘How did your walk go?’ I asked quickly, not because I was afraid Pat would react badly if he was pestered but because I really wanted to know.
‘I think we all enjoyed it. The grown-ups more than the kids, perhaps. No one does disciplined walking these days, do they?’
‘
They will soon if I have anything to do with it. And daily running. Meanwhile, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all you’ve done. And for your kindness last night.’
‘No ill effects from the smoke or the cold?’ Tamsin was asking Pat. ‘Or for you, Jane? If there’s anything worse than being ill it’s seeing a friend suffering. Look, why don’t you pop round for supper this evening? Just a buffet for the OTB team – we always make too much, and you’d be doing us a real favour.’
My stomach froze inside. Another unexpected invitation. I was ready to panic. Paranoia or what? But I heard my voice saying calmly enough, ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t manage early this evening: there’s something I really have to do.’ Then it dawned on me that they might mean to include us both. ‘What if we could drop round later?’
‘Excellent. Of course, I know you have asthma, Pat – do you have food allergies? Can you share a room with a peanut?’
‘I can indeed. And will do with pleasure. I don’t see us being with you before nine-thirty if at all – and I’m afraid that that would be too late?’
Despite the hospitable denials, it was obvious from the tight smiles that it would.
‘Another time, perhaps?’
‘Next time I’m down, I hope.’
I didn’t object till we were well out of earshot that it wouldn’t take me till that hour to pick out a few outfits, especially if we left soon after the end of school.
‘I don’t care if you could magic them out of thin air by the end of afternoon school: I want you to be in a place bristling with CCTV during the evening. Think about it, Avo: by now everyone in the village will know you’re staying at Diane’s. What’s the betting something nasty happens to the Cricketers, for which you will be blamed? Mandy and her team agree: they’re installing cameras there as we speak. But I want a belt and braces approach. Not only will you not show up on their cameras – you’ll be well and truly captured on security twenty miles away.’
Head Start Page 22
