I rolled under the sheets and called out to Juliette. It was only after five minutes without a response that I wondered what could have been posted. Calling her name I got out of the bed, and padded into the kitchen.
Juliette was looking up at the ceiling. In one hand she was holding an A4 envelope. In her other hand she was grasping what appeared to be a sheaf of photographs.
‘What is it?’ I said, rubbing my eye. ‘Why aren’t you coming to bed?’
‘Because of this,’ she said, in a low voice.
She handed me the black and white pictures.
The first was of me following Violet into her house. A broad smile on my face, my hand on her back. The picture had, in the bottom right hand corner of it, the date and time.
‘Juliette, I -’
‘Keep looking,’ she said.
I flicked through the other photographs. They were dated two days previous and showed Violet and I laughing over a cup of tea in a café. In one, her hand appeared clasped over mine. She was looking deep into my eyes.
The final photo showed the door closing behind me as I went into Violet’s apartment block. A cold chill shivered down my back when I saw that, in the photo Violet, seemed to be glancing directly the camera. As if she not only knew the photographer was there. But as if she had been expecting them.
I felt blood drain from my face. The ground beneath my feet grew weak.
‘Juliette, there is an explanation.’
‘I can’t even look at you right now.’ She looked at the ceiling again. ‘I honestly can’t even look at you right now.’
‘You know that they are doing this to undermine our fight for Marine tomorrow? Don’t you?’
I could see her attempting to measure each word, one at a time. ‘And you think carrying on with this girl is what Marine would have wanted?’ She shook her heard fiercely. ‘Who is she, Ben?’
‘A friend of Phillip’s.’
Her eyes flashed to Christian’s room as she narrowed her eyes onto me.
‘Some slut that you and him are passing between you?’
‘This is what they want us to do, Juliette,’ I said, deciding not to take her hand as I wanted to. Kraver has me right where he wants me, I thought. Again. ‘You have to trust me,’ I said. ‘She is a friend. I did let her in too much, after you threw me out of the house. But I have got a grip on it now.’
‘You are joking? There is no way you are trying to justify -’
I put my arm on her shoulder, but she shuddered away from it. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Don’t let them win.’
She shook her head, moisture building in the corner of her eye. The eyeliner was crumbling. ‘How can you say that -,’ she began, her voice breaking.
‘Say what?’
‘That I’ll let them win. Let me tell you something, Ben. I am going to pretend, for one night, that I believe you. It is going to take all my strength, but I need to believe it right now. I need to believe it because I need us to get through tomorrow. Because whatever happens we are not going to let them win.’
I hung my head. ‘You’re right,’ she said.
She moved closer. I caught the scent of spearmint on her breath. ‘You are going to beat them tomorrow, Ben. Do you understand me?’
I nodded.
That night, I barely slept at all. I thought for hours about what Violet had said. They had been digging for dirt on me, and I had stupidly given them something to find. But what was so awful, as I lay there on the couch, was that I wasn’t even able to marshal a sense of determination. I needed to go to sleep, to be ready for the fight of my life the next day. But all I could think about was that final photo. Had they somehow recruited, Violet to break up my family?
Why had she been looking at the camera?
TWENTY-THREE
THE FOLLOWING DAY, I stood in my dressing gown in the kitchen, barely able to move. Bracewell was sat, in the seating area of the lounge, where Marine had once scrambled. Then, it had been called ‘The Den’. Recently, we had renamed it ‘The War Room’.
He had arrived at 9 a.m. to take me through the charges that I would have to defend myself against. Juliette hadn’t yet emerged from the bedroom. I could only guess at the trials she had mentally put herself through in the night, thanks to me.
Just as Bracewell predicted, the charges had arrived in the post only that morning. He had intercepted the postman, scouring the streets for a distant flash of red.
‘Can we not call them out on that?’ I said.
‘They’ll find some email address of yours they sent it to, knowing you wouldn’t check it. Perhaps your teaching one?’
‘Which they’ve banned me from using.’
‘There we have it,’ he said.
I noticed slender, dark rings under his eyes, and I cursed myself for not carefully checking how much money we had already spent on him. Given the strain of preparing, and the balancing act I had to keep up with Phillip, Violet and Juliette, I hadn’t attended to such practicalities. Even if I won, would I still be paying him off when I was an old man?
We tried to settle in, him opposite me in a sharp suit whilst I reclined, exhausted, on the sofa. In the distance I could hear a car alarm, which wouldn’t turn off.
‘You look wrecked,’ he said.
‘Thanks,’ I snapped.
‘Rough night?’
I nodded.
‘I’ve had word that Katy and Lorraine will be coming to the hearing,’ he said, unzipping his glossy leather briefcase. ‘Also, I got an email late yesterday, with the news that the teacher’s association have reluctantly agreed for the hearing to be made public.’
I heard Juliette wordlessly slamming items down. ‘Is she alright?’ he said.
‘Let’s just focus on getting ready, Simon,’ I answered.
I forced myself to my feet whilst Bracewell chugged through the charges. He stopped, every now and again, distracted by Juliette’s slamming, audible from various rooms. ‘What’s wrong with her?’ he said.
‘This is really getting to all of us now,’ I said, realizing that if she told Phillip about Violet I might see myself losing my partner, best friend and job all in one day. ‘Whatever happens, it has to end today.’
Perhaps detecting something, Bracewell smiled sympathetically. ‘It will. You’re doing well,’ he said. ‘There aren’t simply right moves and wrong moves, there’s more to it than that. Every move takes you further away from what this should all be about- which is Marine. This is a game that moves as you play, and one that hurts as you play, too.’
‘I agree,’ I said.
‘You don’t think she’ll do anything to undermine you, do you?’ he asked, looking over my shoulder.
‘Don’t talk about her like that, Simon,’ I said. ‘She’s made of tougher stuff than you or I.’ He widened his eyes, and I rubbed my forehead. ‘I’m sorry I’m snappy,’ I said.
He dismissed the apology with a shake of his head, turned to the charge sheet, and tapped it. ‘So. This is just full of the kind of low shots and exaggerations we prepped for, Ben,’ he said. ‘Item one, ‘use of social media to libel character of Paul Kraver’. It says you were an argumentative member of staff, which I can see no evidence of this morning, and that you sometimes indulged in devious behaviour.’
‘That’ll be the dressing in drag,’ Juliette said, appearing in the doorway.
Her face was scrubbed of makeup, and she looked more exposed, more vulnerable, than I had seen her allow herself to be with strangers before.
Bracewell continued to read. ‘It says you took sick leave that wasn’t agreed, made errors in administration, and didn’t take sufficient breaks.’ He began reading in an officious tone. “The panel will decide, given the evidence, if they should advise the Department of Education that the Interim Prohibition Order against you be made permanent,’ and you’ll hear two days after the hearing what they decide. It’s all just what we expected.’
‘This is your only chance, Ben,’ Juliette said, ta
king a sip of coffee. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t forget that.’
TWENTY-FOUR
IT WAS A COOL, brightening morning. As we approached the car park I could see in the distance a group of harried-looking parents, a hunched tapestry of coats, shielding themselves from the wind. When they saw me they gave out a low cheer. This prompted a flurry of car doors to open, and within a few moments a mob of photographers and reporters were surrounding me, microphones and video camera pointing in my direction. ‘Mr Pendleton, can you spare us a comment?’ one shouted. The others started firing questions at me.
‘What do you have to say to Paul Kraver?’ a bearded man asked, jostling in front of a Dictaphone. ‘He’s had plenty to say to us about you.’
‘My client has no comment to make at this time,’ Bracewell said, patting the air. ‘Please, give my client the room to get inside.’
Inside the building Lorraine, Katy and Phillip responded to my greeting with the kind of cautiousness that suggested hidden concern. We were directed, by a pallid receptionist I didn’t know, into a first floor room, where more new staff were laying out rows of chairs that faced a raised platform. The parents filed into chairs, their sudden movements denoting a willingness to kick off. I wondered why they had refrained from talking to me outside.
I was directed, by the receptionist, to sit at the end of the front row of chairs, with Juliette, Lorraine, Katy and Bracewell sitting with muted expressions beside me. On the raised dais five chairs had been placed in front of table, which held a half-full jug of water and some school tumblers, heavily scratched from the dishwasher. The words ‘kangaroo court’ flashed into my mind- I half fancied for a moment that I was about to watch a school reproduction of Kafka’s ‘The Trial’.
It was then that Phillip entered, smiling apologetically, as he took a seat next to Juliette. ‘Just speak clearly and confidently,’ Juliette whispered, to me. ‘You can’t afford to let us down any more.’
Phillip overheard her warning. ‘Everything alright here?’ he asked, looking between us.
‘I got some rather unpleasant news last night,’ Juliette said, sourly.
‘What was it?’ Phillip said.
Juliette looked at me. ‘Ben?’
From behind me, a male parent with a strong hand clapped me on the back. ‘You give ‘em hell, lad,’ he said.
‘What’s going on, Ben?’ Phillip asked, again.
The door opened. Three men and a woman entered in front of Kraver, and moved towards to their seats on the stage. Kraver, wearing a double-breasted suit that looked new, assumed the role of usher. Once the panel had filed into their seats, he perched himself on the end of them. He looked steadily at me, addressing me in a tone that suggested I possessed variable mental faculties.
‘Good morning, good morning, good morning,’ he said, pulling his jacket around him. This man here,’ he said, motioning to the man on my far left, ‘is Ian Preston, who has kindly agreed to appear on the panel because he is something of a dab hand in these disciplinary matters. He will be offering us some oversight, and he’s here to just make sure there is no damage done to the reputation of the education body.’
Preston was bald, with white-rimmed glasses. He flashed a tight smile at me as he weaved his fingers together on the desk.
‘No guesses as to who Kraver’s plant is then,’ Simon whispered.
Kraver heard the whisper and turned to Bracewell. ‘Right then, Mr. Bracewell,’ he said, his voice sharp. ‘I know that as Mr. Pendleton’s legal representative you are looking forward to earning your stripes today, and we will give you the chance to speak. But we will only hear you when you speak as instructed. We must stick to certain practical and rational considerations, and I’ve found in my experience that when we do it all becomes very straightforward.’
‘I understand,’ Bracewell said, politely.
‘One important consideration is that this session will last for two hours, and it must end sharply at 1 p.m., mind, as this room has been booked by someone else.’
The parents in the seats gave off a low buzz of protest. I realized that they had filled the room, and the new arrivals were having to squeeze in at the back.
‘I must raise an objection to that,’ Bracewell said. ‘This hearing is to decide the fate of one man’s career. You can’t honestly expect us to be troubled by a room booking?’
‘Mr. Bracewell,’ Kraver continued, closing his eyes, ‘I see you’re already getting out of your box and we haven’t yet started. I’m assuming you don’t want to be kicked out? No?’
To my amazement, Bracewell shook his head.
‘Good, good, that’s all dandy, and I will now hand you over to the chair of this meeting, Chris Manning.’
‘Thank you, Mr Kraver,’ said the portly man sat next to Preston. Manning’s hand was clasped to his chin, with the forefinger pointed at the ceiling. The intensity of his gaze suggested a powerful intellect. But the slight hangdog look also suggested some sort of shame about its use.
‘Joining me on the panel,’ Manning said, is ‘Angela Glass.’ He gestured to a woman next to him who, despite her glossy, dark hair, possessed a slightly masculine muscularity. The final chair, next to Kraver, was filled by a man who suddenly introduced himself as ‘Rupert Morris, legal advisor’. The moment he spoke he raised his chin. His nasal wine seemed to pre-empt a disagreement that had not yet happened.
He and Bracewell eyed each other carefully, two cats ready to fight over an already promised ball of wool. Morris seemingly noticed something behind me. ‘I am afraid I must ask members of the public not to film,’ he said.
‘Why not?’ said the man behind me. ‘This is a public interest case. Isn’t that why it is open to the public?’
‘Under law,’ Morris said, in an ingratiating tone, ‘an employee cannot say anything that damages his employer’s reputation. Recording this hearing would facilitate that.’
‘I’ll tweet instead then,’ said a woman at his side, raising a couple of cheers.
‘Now,’ Manning said. ‘We will begin by Mr Kraver taking us through the items which have raised concern about Mr. Pendleton’s Fitness To Practice.’
Those words, now issued without any contextual balm, stung more than I expected.
‘We will start,’ he said, ‘with points that have been raised since the informal hearing.’
+ + + + +
‘The first, and most immediate concern, is that in recent days, you have used a television interview to slander the school. In so doing you have not only destroyed the hard work of all members of staff involved in the documentary about the school, but you have brought the good name of the school into disrepute. You are therefore in violation of Section 4d of your teaching contract. How do you answer the charge?’
‘I did not wish to bring the school into disrepute,’ I began. ‘My main motivation for doing the TV interview was to bring to the attention of the public the fact that my daughter was killed during an outing at an affiliated school.’
Kraver straightened his back. ‘And in the aftermath of her death,’ I continued, ‘various people, such as Katy Fergus and Lorraine Hannerty, brought to my attention that one of the Teaching Assistants present that day, David Walker, had a history of convictions against children, which the school had not properly investigated.’
‘I must intervene,’ said Morris, leaning over to Manning. ‘This response, in a public setting is clearly intended to bring the school into further disrepute, thus enforcing the chairs claim.’
His nonchalance made my heartbeat quicken. ‘The CPS have decided,’ I continued, ‘as a result of the coroner re-opening the case into my daughter’s death, to instruct the police to now fully investigate what happened on the day she fell.’
‘The school spent every penny it could practically afford looking into that,’ Kraver said. ‘Unless you want the children to be taught using slate and chalk, there is nothing more we could do. Is that what the parents would want?’
The paren
ts bridled.
‘Noted,’ said Manning.
‘With me today,’ I continued, ‘is another teacher at the school, Katy Fergus. She was present on the day of the accident and she has found evidence that Mr Walker, under a previous name, was found guilty of offences against children -,’
‘Mr. Pendleton …’ Manning said, interrupting.
‘Out of the question,’ said Kraver.
‘Whilst under a previous name,’ I continued. ‘She is willing to present evidence now, that Mr. Kraver was informed about this.’
‘Out of the question, pure fiction,’ Kraver said.
‘- but decided not to investigate it,’ I finished.
The panel consulted.
‘Given that this case is still being investigated by the CPS,’ Manning eventually said, ‘the panel propose that this point of contention is irrelevant until their investigation is completed. This is a hearing to discuss and decide upon Mr Pendleton’s Fitness To Practice, not a court of law. Therefore the evidence of Miss Fergus is not relevant today.’
‘It certainly is,’ Bracewell said, his voice loud.
Morris whispered something to Manning.
‘That is the decision of the panel, Mr Bracewell,’ Manning said. ‘As Mr. Morris has quite rightly just pointed out to me, the evidence from other staff members is confidential, and therefore not in the interests of the greater good.’
‘But I waive my right to confidentiality!’ Katy shouted, from a row behind me.
‘Even if you do, Miss Fergus,’ Manning said, ‘that does not mean your opinion can be taken on board today.’
‘It is completely relevant!’ she said, to rising cheers from the audience. ‘What I have to say undercuts the premise of the whole case against Ben!’
The panel consulted again. ‘As the panel consult,’ Kraver said, wriggling in his chair, ‘I would just like to say something, if that’s okay. There’s been a lot of changes at this school since I took over and I know, I know, some people don’t like change. They like everything to stay the same it was. It’s easy to resist the brush of a clean broom, but I ask the parents not to let their fear of change stop them having faith in me.’ He pressed his hands against his heart. ‘Trust me,’ he said, ‘don’t push against me.’
An Honest Deceit Page 17
