Civvy Street

by Fiona Field

  Seb shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’re being very supportive.’

  ‘Fat lot of good that does though.’

  She turned to the counter and began cracking eggs into a bowl.

  ‘In other news,’ said Seb, ‘I saw Jack Rayner this morning.’

  ‘Oh yes. What did he want?’

  ‘He wants to know how I’m getting on with his plans to modernise the mess.’

  ‘And you said...?’

  ‘I gave him the same story that I have done since he first mooted it – that Susie and I are still finding our feet as the new team in charge of running the joint and to embark on any major change will probably mean we’ll be biting off more than we can chew.’

  ‘Did he buy your excuse... again?’

  ‘Not really. He’s getting impatient. Muttered stuff about me not being up to the job.’

  ‘The bastard.’

  ‘I’ve put him off for quite a while now – three whole months.’

  ‘Pah, that’s no time at all.’

  ‘I can’t do it for much longer. And then...?’ Seb looked rightly worried.

  ‘But he can’t railroad his mad scheme through, though, can he? I know we’ve been told not to discuss it with anyone yet but at some point he’s going to have to get the mess members’ agreement.’

  ‘I think his attitude is this is his battalion now, his toy, his rules.’

  Maddy thought about things for a while as she beat the eggs and then got out a saucepan. ‘I suppose going over his head – having a word with General Pemberton-Blake – would be career suicide.’

  Seb snorted. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘But I still don’t see how he’ll get everyone to agree to stripping out all that beautiful furniture and making the place look more like a Premier Inn and less like an officers’ mess.’

  ‘He writes all our confidential reports.’

  ‘Oh, come on! There’s laws against that sort of workplace bullying.’

  Seb raised an eyebrow. ‘There may be, but I think you’ll find there will be quite a few who aren’t prepared to risk jeopardising their careers for a few Empire style side tables and some leather armchairs.’

  Maddy snorted in disgust. ‘There’s got to be something we can do to stop him.’

  Seb shook his head. ‘Maddy, promise me you won’t let it even cross your mind about dropping hints to outsiders. With only us and the Rayners privy to this potty scheme, if it gets out, I know who he’ll blame and, unless you want to find yourself neighbours of Mike and Susie, you’ve got to keep shtum.’

  ‘All right,’ agreed Maddy with bad grace. ‘But I’m not happy. And there has to be a way to stop him. We just need to think of it.’

  *

  Supper at the Collins’ house was the usual subdued affair with the twins barely talking and Mike answering monosyllabically Susie’s questions about his day. She tried to lighten things by recounting news of their old friends in the mess but Mike didn’t seem to be interested in that either. Finally the girls finished their shepherd’s pie and escaped upstairs and as soon as they had gone, Susie crossed the kitchen and shut the door behind them.

  Mike looked at her. ‘What’s up?’

  Susie sat down next to him in the seat Ella had just vacated. ‘Mike, we need to talk.’

  ‘Sounds ominous.’

  ‘I think it might be. I’m really, really worried about the twins. I saw Caro today and she is too. They barely talk to her—’

  ‘It’s probably their age,’ interrupted Mike.

  Susie shook her head. ‘They’re not doing their homework at hers and I’m pretty sure they’re not doing it here either.’

  ‘So? They keep telling us how far ahead they are – that most of the stuff is a repeat of what they’ve already covered at Browndown.’

  ‘Mike, that really isn’t the point, is it? And if they’re not doing it, why isn’t the school telling us they’re failing to hand work in?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘And Caro thinks... well, I do too... we think they might be getting bullied.’

  At this Mike really paid attention. ‘You think?’

  ‘Why not? We both know how vile kids can be to each other and Ella and Katie are different: they talk differently, they went to prep school and then boarding school, all the sort of things other kids will pick up on and use against them.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘And they don’t seem to have any friends.’

  ‘Well, you don’t want them to make friends on this estate, do you?’ Mike sounded incredulous.

  ‘Do you know, I think that even if they did that it would be better than nothing.’

  Mike looked sceptical.

  ‘Maybe not,’ admitted Susie. ‘Anyway, I rang the school this morning and asked for an appointment to see the head of year. It’s the day after tomorrow. Seb’s given me the morning off but is there any chance you can come along too? I think you should.’

  Mike groaned. ‘Not a snowball’s chance. I’ve got a meeting with the local water authority and Defra. I can’t bail out of it at this late stage. People are coming from London and all over – hotels have been booked, the works. Can’t you rearrange things?’

  ‘I suppose I could. Or I could go along on my own – find out how the land lies. There’s a chance Caro and I are both wrong, in which case...’ She shrugged.

  ‘Let’s hope that’s the case. You go on your own. If things are really terrible...’ Mike ran his hand across his face. ‘Let’s just hope we’re both wrong and it turns out to be a waste of your morning.’

  Chapter 27

  ‘Susie drew her car up in the visitors’ car park at Winterspring School and gazed at the main building. God, it was a dispiriting place. Perhaps if she wasn’t tempted to compare it to Browndown it mightn’t have been quite so bad. Actually, no, it was awful... depressing.

  She climbed out of the car and made her way over to reception.

  ‘I have an appointment with Mr Rogers, head of Year Eight.’

  ‘I know who Mr Rogers is,’ the receptionist responded tartly.

  Jeez, thought Susie, what happened to civility and good manners? Maybe they got beaten out of you at a place like this – which didn’t bode well for the kids.

  ‘He’s expecting you. If you make your way across to the Welwyn Block, he’ll be in the staffroom.’ She reached for a school map.

  ‘I know my way,’ said Susie. Two could play at being snippy, she thought rather childishly as she swept off.

  As before, she stood outside the staffroom and rang the bell. As before, someone, another someone who looked young enough to be a pupil not a teacher, appeared, took Susie’s name and scuttled back inside. As before, Susie was left waiting on the threshold. Finally, Mr Rogers deigned to make an appearance.

  ‘Ah, Mrs Coulson.’

  ‘Collins.’ Susie had to make an effort not to roll her eyes.

  ‘Yes – of course. Follow me.’

  They reached his office and he ushered her in.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ he said as she sat down.

  ‘I’ll come straight to the point. I am worried about my two girls – Ella and Katie.’

  ‘Oh, yes, the twins. In what way?’

  ‘Where do I start? They aren’t making any friends, they aren’t settling, they aren’t happy and I worry about the attention that is being paid to their well-being because of everything I have just said.’

  ‘I see.’

  Mr Rogers, thought Susie, didn’t sound in the least bothered. ‘Aren’t you concerned?’

  ‘Mrs Collins, I am responsible for nearly three hundred children, many of who come from families far less stable than your own, children with far less parental support than your girls presumably get, and to whom I must devote more time and energy.’

  ‘So you’re not worried that I think my two daughters are being bullied?’

  ‘Have you any evidence? Have they said anything to you?’

  ‘No, bu
t I am sure this is the case. They’re miserable, they’re becoming introverted and I think they’re underachieving.’

  Mr Rogers steepled his fingers and stared at Susie. ‘They might achieve better, Mrs Collins, if they bothered to do any work in the first place.’

  Susie felt her face redden. ‘I haven’t had any complaints from the school.’

  ‘You’re getting one now.’

  ‘I see.’ She felt stung but she recovered. ‘The trouble is, Mr Rogers, they’re bored. They’ve covered a lot of this work at their previous school and they’re no longer being stretched.’

  ‘So, instead of making any attempt to integrate in class, or maybe offering to help some of their less able classmates, instead of making any sort of contribution, they sulk in silence at the back.’

  ‘Well...’

  ‘“Dumb insolence” is the phrase most of their teachers seem to use to describe your daughters, Mrs Collins.’

  ‘But that’s... they’re not... in the past they haven’t behaved like that,’ she finally managed to enunciate. No, Miss Marcham had called them ‘rude, opinionated and disruptive’, but she wasn’t going to share that fact. And now they were insolent and sulky. And how often, when she’d wanted to criticise the below-par behaviour of other children, had the phrase ‘I blame the parents’ been on her lips?

  ‘Really? Maybe, when you are paying very expensive fees, the staff are more inclined to give your daughters the benefit of the doubt. Here, at Winterspring, we will help, we will encourage, we will even cajole – but when pupils flatly refuse to play any part in the curriculum we haven’t either the time or the energy to spend on them when we have other children who want to, and who are willing to learn.’

  Susie sat, ramrod straight, trying desperately not to show how she was reeling from the onslaught.

  ‘I still think they are being bullied,’ she insisted, not wishing to address Mr Rogers’ other comments.

  ‘I will ask the staff to keep an eye out for any signs. But I suggest, Mrs Collins, that you ask your daughters yourself that question. I don’t want to spread scarce resources even thinner if your assumption is incorrect.’

  Susie knew when she was being given the brush-off.

  ‘And,’ he continued, ‘while you are at it, you should also ask them to consider their behaviour and attitude in school. Now, is there anything else?’

  Susie felt humiliated and angry in equal measure and, head held high, she left the head of year’s office without another word. Why, whenever she thought the family had hit rock bottom, did she find they could descend yet further?

  *

  Susie waited until she got the girls home after school and they’d all had a cup of tea before she broached the subject of her trip into Winterspring Comprehensive.

  ‘So, I had a word with Mr Rogers.’

  ‘You did what?’ snapped Ella.

  ‘Darling, I am worried about you and Katie. Caro is too.’

  ‘You’ve been talking to her about us?’ said Katie.

  ‘Have you been talking to all your old pals?’ added Ella.

  Susie got defensive. ‘No! And I only had a word with Caro because I’m worried about you. You don’t seem to be happy at school.’

  ‘Well, whose fault is that?’ shot back Katie. ‘You and Dad sent us to that dump.’

  ‘It’s not a dump,’ said Susie.

  The twins’ sneering look told her they disagreed.

  ‘Look, whatever you think about the school, you have to be educated somewhere and Winterspring is all we can afford. I wish it was otherwise but that’s that. And the reason I went to see Mr Rogers was to try and find out why you seem so miserable. Even Caro thinks you’re not happy.’ She gazed at the twins but they didn’t make eye contact back. ‘Are you being bullied?’

  ‘Is that what Rogers said?’ muttered Katie.

  ‘No.’ Susie didn’t add that their head of year, the man responsible for their pastoral care, didn’t say anything much and what he had said had been less than favourable.

  ‘So, what’s your problem?’

  Ella’s comment verged on the insolent and Susie, only wanting to help, felt stung. She took a slow intake of breath. ‘My problem is that I love you, that I can’t bear the thought of you being unhappy, that I want the best for you—’

  ‘So why send us to Winterspring?’ said Katie.

  Susie felt she was going round in circles. ‘You know why. And you’re not answering my question.’

  Katie looked up. ‘Well, we’re not... being bullied. Happy now?’

  Susie wasn’t sure she believed her daughter but what could she do? ‘I’m glad. You know, if you’ve got any friends you’d like to have over for a sleepover...’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Why not?’ said Susie.

  The girls just shook their heads and shrugged, then Katie muttered, ‘No thanks.’

  So did that mean they didn’t have any friends to ask for a sleepover or they didn’t want to ask their friends to come back to this house? Susie didn’t dare probe further. ‘OK, but the offer is there if you want it. So...’ She tried to sound bright and cheerful, ‘What homework have you got tonight?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘But you must have. Caro said you just watched TV at hers.’

  ‘You checking up on us now?’ accused Ella.

  ‘Of course not. I just asked her what you’d got up to.’

  ‘Well, don’t.’

  ‘But you didn’t do any homework.’ Susie’s tone was harsher than she meant.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And... you should both be getting about an hour a night, and I haven’t seen you do any for a while now and, more’s the point, neither has Caro.’

  ‘There’s no point in doing any. The lessons are rubbish and we’re not learning anything,’ countered Katie.

  ‘So is that why Mr Rogers told me you both sulk at the back of classes?’ Susie stopped. She wished she hadn’t said that but they’d pushed her.

  ‘He’s lying,’ said Ella.

  Susie remained silent.

  Katie pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘Except you seem to want to believe him not us, don’t you?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ said Ella, following suit.

  ‘You don’t trust us, you don’t believe us. You’re as bad as Dad.’

  ‘But...’ said Susie. She put a hand on Katie’s arm but Katie batted it away.

  ‘Just leave us alone,’ snarled Katie.

  She and Ella stormed out of the kitchen and a few seconds later the front door slammed.

  Susie sat at the kitchen table wondering how she’d got it so wrong. She’d just got her and Mike back on an even keel and now she’d wrecked her relationship with the twins. How? She shut her eyes for a second, willing herself not to give in to the tears that were just under the surface. After a few seconds she opened them again. This wasn’t getting supper made and the girls would be back shortly, she had no doubt. It was getting dark, the weather was chilly and they’d want something to eat in a while. Besides, where would they go?

  She got up from the table, fished some spuds out of the veg rack and set about peeling them. She’d just run the water into the sink and picked up the peeler when the phone rang.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘It’s me,’ said Mike. ‘Just ringing to say I’m probably going to be late.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  She heard him sigh. ‘That meeting I had went on longer than I expected so I’ve only just got back to the office and I have to write up my notes before I leave.’

  ‘Can’t you do it at home?’

  ‘No, I need some files here. How did your meeting go?’

  Susie groaned. ‘Don’t ask.’

  ‘That bad?’

  ‘Worse. And now I’ve just had a row with the girls.’

  ‘Welcome to the club.’

  ‘Only this time it was them who stormed out of the house, not one of their paren
ts.’

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Sorry...’

  ‘Where’ve they gone?’

  ‘I don’t know. It can’t be far and it isn’t as if it’s late. I’ll get supper on then go to look for them.’

  ‘Hmm. Don’t leave it too late, it’ll be dark soon.’

  ‘I expect they’ll be at the bus shelter or somewhere like that.’

  ‘OK – but even so...’

  ‘Mike, they’re together, they’re twelve and it’s still afternoon. You wouldn’t have worried about them on the patch.’

  ‘Exactly – but this isn’t the patch.’

  Mike’s words stuck in Susie’s brain for a while after she put the phone down and when she’d finished the potatoes she put them in a pan of water, grabbed her keys and coat and headed out of the front door herself. She took a punt on them going to the end of their road and down the hill towards the village. As she neared the junction she heard laughter. She listened. Laughter and voices. She stopped walking and listened even more intently. Yes, she could hear Katie and Ella’s voices but she couldn’t make out what they were saying although it was clear that they weren’t alone and they seemed fairly relaxed. That was something to be grateful for. Maybe they did have some friends in the area and her interview with Mr Rogers had been unnecessary. She headed back to the house feeling happier; they hadn’t gone far and they were with friends. She could get on with supper. If they weren’t home by the time supper was ready she’d go out and call them in.

  Half an hour later that front door banged open.

  ‘Katie, Ella?’ she called from the kitchen.

  Footsteps thumped up the stairs. Two pairs. They were both in, good.

  Susie went into the hall. ‘Katie, Ella?’ But still silence.

  She followed them upstairs. ‘Katie...? Ella...?’ she called tentatively. The last thing she wanted to do was spark another row.

  ‘Yeah? What do you want?’ said Katie from her room.

  ‘I just wanted to tell you that supper’ll be about fifteen minutes.’