“They’re here,” his secretary said from the door.
He waved a hand. The secretary relayed the gesture and stood aside while four girls entered the room. They were Julie’s friends—Alicia, Deirdre, Tia, and Annie. They had called earlier to ask to see him, to his relief. If he had been the one to call them, he would have been accused of tampering with potentially hostile witnesses. Now he was simply the Head of Mount Court being accessible to his students.
He motioned them to sit and perched on the corner of the radiator. “What can I do for you?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.
Alicia, the spokeswoman apparent, said, “We heard what happened this morning.”
“How?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.
“Julie told us. She said she wasn’t supposed to, and she made us promise not to do anything, but she’s really upset. She said you don’t believe her. But we saw, Mr. Perrine.”
He sat very still. “You saw what?”
“We saw her with Dr. Grace.”
“Doing what?”
“They were hugging. It was at the hospital, right in front of everyone.”
Noah might have moaned in disgust, if he hadn’t had faith in Paige, who had faith in Peter. “What kind of hug was it?”
Alicia looked confused, clearly caught off guard.
“What do you mean?” Deirdre asked.
“Was it a friendly hug?”
“What other kinds are there?”
“There are passionate ones. Or desperate ones. There are relieved ones. And victorious ones.”
“They were wrapped in each other’s arms.”
“Uh-huh,” Noah acknowledged. “That’s how I’d define a hug. What I want to know is what kind you saw.”
“It was a hug,” Alicia insisted, as though that made it all clear.
“Then perhaps there wasn’t anything wrong with it,” Noah pointed out. “I hugged you—remember, when we all made it across Knife Edge—and no one thought anything amiss. Did you think I was coming on to you?”
Alicia colored. Quickly she said, “No.”
“But you’re sure that the way Dr. Grace and Julie were hugging suggested they were having an affair. How do you know? What did you see that suggested passion? Did they kiss?”
“Maybe later.”
“Did you see them do it?”
“No.”
“Did they hold hands when they were drawing apart?”
Alicia sought the others’ help, but they remained quiet. “No,” she conceded, then added, “They couldn’t do that. Everyone was watching.”
“They were watching the hug, too. I take it that it was less suggestive than hand holding? Pretty innocent, huh?” When Alicia didn’t respond, he said, “Okay. Let’s talk about words. Did they say anything to each other at the time of this hug? Make any promises? Set a date for later?”
Tia said, “We didn’t hear. We were on our way downstairs.”
“Just because we didn’t hear anything,” Deirdre put in, “doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“Yet you choose to believe that it did,” Noah said.
“Because Julie says.”
Noah drew in a deep breath and sat straighter. “Well, I say that Julie is in a whole lot of trouble and wants someone to share the heat. So she’s fingering Dr. Grace, who is old enough to be her father and, by the way, has no trouble finding women closer to his own age. Why would he be interested in an eighteen-year-old?”
“Men always like younger women.”
“Always?”
“A lot of the time.”
“Are you speaking from personal experience, Deirdre? Has Dr. Grace ever come on to you?”
“No.”
“Or you?” he asked Alicia, who quickly shook her head. “Or you?” he asked the other two. There wasn’t a single nod.
“Yet you jump at the chance to say that he came on to Julie.”
“She said he did.”
“And you’re her friends, so you’re supporting her. That’s a fine thing to do, assuming the case is a valid one. If not, your support is ill spent. If she’s lying, you won’t look so great. You’ll be walking around here with egg on your faces, because if she’s lying, the other kids will know. They’ll know that she was fooling around with another student, or maybe with someone at home during fall break, who just happened to get her pregnant, and chances are they’ll know who that boy is. Do you think he’ll sit back and let Dr. Grace take the fall for him?”
“He’ll get in worse trouble if he comes forward,” Annie said, and immediately knew she had blundered. She shot a frightened look at the others, who tried their best to ignore her.
Noah didn’t home in on her. If he couldn’t get a name from the others, he might seek her out separately, but she was the most vulnerable of the bunch. He wouldn’t put her on the spot. Not yet.
“The fact is,” he said to the group as a whole, “the deed is done. Julie is pregnant. You girls know; the rest of the school will know before long, and kids will be whispering.” He knew how that worked. Boy, did he ever. “My guess is that it’ll be the major topic of discussion, second only to where you all will be skiing over Christmas. And there will be speculation. Dr. Grace may seem like a perfect patsy, but he’ll be denying her claim. If it comes to a trial, his lawyer will put you girls on the witness stand and ask you the same kinds of questions I asked you before, and you’re going to make fools of yourselves. Because one hug, between people who know one another, particularly in this day and age of the sensitive man, does not make an affair. There might have been any number of reasons for that hug, all totally innocent. If any of you saw something else, something more definitive between Julie and Dr. Grace, either at that time or at another time, I’d like to hear about it. I’d also like to hear about relationships she may have with guys here. You can be sure I’ll be asking the faculty. They see more than you think.”
“Why can’t Julie just get an abortion and be done with it?” Tia asked. “Why does anyone have to be named?”
“In theory, no one does, though that means Julie has to take the flak alone. In this case, someone has already been named, and that someone stands to lose his practice and his reputation. I want to get at the truth before that happens.” He looked from one face to the other. “Any suggestions about who the guilty party really is? Any names Julie might be scribbling in her notebooks? Anyone she might be stealing off to be with in the shack by the pond—you didn’t think I knew about that?” he asked in response to the widened eyes. “I was young once. That’d be the place I’d pick if I wanted shelter from the night with my girl.” He made a round of the faces again. “No thoughts on who’s using the shack now?”
If they had any, they weren’t sharing them.
“Let me say one more thing, then,” he offered gently. As he saw it, his job included the teaching of values. “You kids have an unwritten code that says you don’t rat on each other, and that’s commendable, in some circumstances. In others, it isn’t at all.
“This is one of those others. I could understand you maintaining a silence if no names had been mentioned. What happened between Julie and this other person was private. If they don’t speak up, that’s their decision. But we’ll probably find out who it was anyway, and the longer it goes on, the harder it will be on that person.” He let the thought sink in before adding, “If you all keep your silence and sit by while Dr. Grace’s name is smeared, you’ll be as guilty as Julie.”
He saw one hard swallow, several fidgety fingers, and a pair of eyes that were trying not to blink. Quietly and with disappointment, he said, “If any of you want to talk again, alone or together, I’ll be around and glad to listen.”
He gave the radiator a pat, rose, and went to the desk. By the time he had focused on the papers there, the girls had left. The timing couldn’t have been better. Two minutes later he got a call from the president of the Board of Trustees.
Roger Russell had graduated from Mount Court thirty
years before, was a successful businessman in New York, and traveled to Tucker for monthly meetings. He and Noah talked on the phone in between. Noah liked him. He was thoughtful and reasonable, realistic about Mount Court’s problems, and anxious to solve them. He was a modifying force for the rest of the board, which was older, more conservative and demanding. If any of those others had been president, Noah might not have taken the job. It was Roger’s personal plea that had clinched it.
Now Roger was pleading again. “Tell me that what Clint Engel just told me isn’t true.”
Noah had known Clint would call him. When parents were paying as much as Mount Court parents were, if they didn’t get satisfaction from the Head of the school, they went higher. “I’m not sure what he told you, but the part about his daughter being pregnant is true.”
“By the school’s doctor?”
“That part isn’t true.”
“Are you sure?”
“Reasonably. I don’t know the man well, but I do know one of his partners, and she is vouching for him. Apparently Julie made a play for Peter. She asked him to take pictures of her, and when he refused, she was angry. Now she’s pregnant, and she needs someone to blame, hence her revenge. The real father could be one of half a dozen seniors here. She’s an active dater.”
“Clint is livid. Whether or not charges are brought against the doctor, he blames the school for lax supervision.”
“Do you?” Noah asked, wanting to know where he stood.
“Of course not. The school can’t take these kids to the toilet, for God’s sake, but sex happens there. Sex happens all over the place at boarding schools, except maybe at the few single-sex schools that remain, and even then you never know. So how can we get at the truth?”
“I’ll be meeting with the faculty members who are closest to Julie later,” Noah said. “They may know who the boy is. Or they may be able to find out. It won’t be so bad if it’s a student—easy to blame on the irresponsibility of youth, rather than a man the school pays to guard the well-being of the students.”
Roger sighed. “We have a serious problem in either case. I tried to calm Clint down, but he’s out for blood. I’ve set up a meeting with him here in the city tomorrow. Our lawyer will come. Between the two of us, we may be able to convince Clint that he’s hurting his daughter more than anyone by making a scene.”
“He’s a volatile man. It’s no wonder she had to cry rape. He has her up against a wall.”
“He’s working on putting us there, too, Noah, and damn it, I don’t like that. Mount Court is finally getting its act together. To be set back by one irresponsible girl doesn’t seem right.”
Noah tried to think positively. “It may come to nothing. She may break down and confess to being involved with someone else, in which case her father will know she was lying. Or someone else may come forward, with the same result. The school is in trouble only if Clint chooses to take us to court.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t,” Roger replied. “For more reasons than one. You’ve done a remarkable job in three months. I was hoping I could convince you to stay.”
In September, Noah wouldn’t have considered it. He would have laughed in Roger’s face. But things had changed. He might want to stay now. For more reasons than one. “I promised you one year. You’ll have that, at least.”
“But you’ve started good programs. I want them continued and more added. If this thing goes to court, that may be impossible. The board will want to distance itself from you and everything you’ve done, which means regressing to the place we were at before you came. You’ll be blamed right along with the doctor. We won’t have much of a choice, Noah, if Mount Court is to come out with the least amount of damage.”
Noah understood that. He was a realist. Unfortunately, if he left under the cloud of a lawsuit, finding another headship would be hard. He could go back to the foundation, but that wasn’t what he wanted.
“I’ll let you know what happens tomorrow,” Roger concluded. “In the meanwhile, call me if you learn anything. We have to settle this soon, one way or another.”
Noah knew precisely what Roger hadn’t said. Totally aside from minimizing the damage to Mount Court that would arise from a scandal, there was the matter of hiring a new Head. If Noah wasn’t staying, other candidates would have to be interviewed. The time for that was fast approaching.
Noah had no sooner signed off with Roger than he received a call from Walker Gray, a member of the board. He, too, had received a call from Clint Engel, who belonged to his golf club. Walker was far less sympathetic than Roger had been.
“How could this have happened? I thought you were brought in to straighten things out, so now one of our students has been molested by the school doctor. How did it happen?”
“She was allegedly molested,” Noah corrected. “Nothing’s been proven. The doctor denies he ever touched the girl in anything but a professional manner.”
“Well, he’s lying.
“Do you have proof of that?”
“She’s pregnant.”
Noah let the absurdity of the accusation hang on the line for a minute, during which he made sure his temper was in check. Then he said, “That’s no more proof that she was molested by our doctor, than that she was molested by her own father.”
“Clint wouldn’t touch the girl!”
“Peter Grace claims he wouldn’t, either. So who do you believe? The fact is that Julie is a social butterfly. She could have been with any number of boys, either here or at home.”
“Do you have any control over what happens there?”
Noah defended himself, not only then, but a short time later when another member of the board called and, a short time after that, another. All told that afternoon, he spoke with five board members and four parents. His secretary had just left for the day when the phone rang again, and he nearly let it ring. But he could calm people down. The more of them he talked with, the more heard the rational argument. So he answered the phone.
It was Jim Kehane, his Santa Fe connection. “Just wondering if you’ve given more thought to coming here next year,” he said. “The offer is open. We’re starting to set up interviews with other candidates. I’d like to set some up for you. As things stand now, you’re our first choice.”
Noah wanted to say, “Wait ‘til you hear what’s been going on here. I may not be your first choice for long.” Instead he said, “I’m interested.” He had to keep his options open. “What would you like me to do?”
“A résumé is all we need now. A letter or two of recommendation wouldn’t hurt, either. The rest will come later. Say, this is good news, Noah. I was worried you’d decide to stay at Mount Court. I take it everything is going well there?”
Noah managed to answer with an ambiguity that didn’t compromise him, but he got off the phone as quickly as possible and left the office soon after. He didn’t need more phone calls. What he needed was to meet with Julie’s dorm parent and faculty adviser.
Paige’s last patient of the day was a three-year-old girl, the first child of a couple from lower Tucker. Her parents rarely saw each other; one worked the day shift and one the night so that Emily was never alone. The father, who had brought her in after she had coughed her way through the day, had her dressed in multiple layers against the December cold. None of the layers matched. She looked like a roly-poly rag doll—in Paige’s view absolutely precious.
Paige handed the father the prescription she had just written out and lifted the child from the examining table. “Give her the medicine four times a day, but make sure she’s eaten something before she takes it. Keep her warm, have her drink as much as she’ll take, and call me if you don’t see improvement in two days.”
As though knowing help was on the way, little Emily was peaceful in Paige’s arms. “Such a sweet-heart,” Paige said with a smile, but the smile grew sad when she thought of how Sami would be at three, and the knot in her stomach reclenched. She was fine when she was working and me
ntally challenged, but at in-between times like this, brief moments when her mind wandered, she fell back into a melancholy funk.
She hugged Emily and returned her to her father, saw them to the door, and retreated into her office. Peter and Angie joined her there a short time later.
“Any news?” Angie asked Peter.
He shook his head, looking exhausted. Paige suspected he was having as much trouble concentrating as she had.
“Julie’s father isn’t moving to bring charges yet,” he said, “but I don’t know how long we can hold him off. She still insists it was me.”
“Did she say it to your face?” Angie asked.
“No. I tried to get her to. I asked her outright, there in Perrine’s office, but her lawyer cut in and accused me of harassing her. If she continues to point at me, and if no one else comes forward, it’s only a matter of time before they go to the cops. They’ll indict me for rape, her word against mine.” He eyed Paige. “It doesn’t look good.”
Paige, who was sitting with her fists pressed to her mouth, wanted to disagree, but she couldn’t find the words. She was overwhelmed thinking what damage a rape charge would do to Peter, to Mount Court—and to the practice, which was the one single, most solid entity around which the rest of her life revolved. If it fell apart along with everything else, she might just hang in the air for an agonizing minute before shattering on the ground.
“What is Julie doing about the baby?” Angie asked.
“She isn’t about to tell me,” Peter remarked dryly. “Have you heard anything?”
Paige shook her head. “Her father has taken her back to New York. She’ll see an obstetrician there.”
“Do you think she’ll abort it?” Angie asked.
Paige had no idea.
“Whether she does or not,” Peter insisted, “DNA tests will prove that the baby isn’t mine. My lawyer is putting a request into writing that if there is an abortion, the fetal tissue should be tested. If they fail to do it, they’re destroying evidence. I wish there were as conclusive a test for rape.”
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