When You Know

by Archer, Kiki

“It’s true. You’ve done this before. I haven’t. Do you realise how humiliated I feel?”

  “What makes you think I’ve done this before?”

  “Jenna, you’ve done everything before.” Susan gasped. “You don’t even care that you’re all over Facebook. You’ve made things a thousand times worse with Marcus! He’ll definitely try and get some evidence against me now he thinks you’re writing a report.”

  “I am.”

  Susan was shaking her head. “You’re not. And I’m sending mine in exactly as it is, with the facts, just the facts.”

  “Susan, his behaviour’s inappropriate. His behaviour with you this afternoon has been inappropriate.”

  “No, my behaviour’s inappropriate.”

  “You Skyped your girlfriend. What’s the big deal?”

  “On the school site.”

  “In your personal apartment. Susan, really, what’s the big deal?”

  Susan shook her head and jumped off the bed. “I need to delete Skype. I need to delete it off my laptop.”

  ****

  Marcus scrolled as quickly as he could to the Skype app. He’d never opened it before and wasn’t quite sure what to expect. He pushed his glasses further up his nose as he stared at the screen. Looks pretty simple, he said to himself as he entered the username: Susan.Quinn

  ****

  “Don’t be so silly,” said Jenna. “You don’t need to delete the app. We talk on it every day.”

  “Well maybe we shouldn’t.” Susan was back on the bed with her laptop on her knee.

  “Argh! Susan will you please just calm down! Let me talk you through deleting the conversation. It’s really simple.” Jenna sighed. “We can’t not have our afternoon Skype sessions.”

  “And it’ll disappear? All of it?” Susan scrolled through the string of messages and pictures, cursing her own stupidity.

  “All of it,” said Jenna.

  ****

  Marcus pursed his lips. JennaJames. The red box flashed up. Incorrect password. He tried again. JamesJenna. Same box. He thought carefully. Maybe Susan set up Skype before the ski trip. Maybe the password was old. He clicked back on the box and typed the word: Teacher. “Damn,” he muttered as the access was denied. Marcus leaned backwards on the sofa and stared at the ceiling, desperately trying to wrack his brains. All he needed was a tad more leverage for Susan to be on his side. She’d vouch for him. She’d silence the critics. He smirked to himself. Pornographic pictures would provide the perfect leverage. StWilfreds, he typed, shooting off the sofa as the access was granted. He swept his arm across the counter, chinking the cups together and clearing some space. He placed the laptop down and jumped onto the stool, moving as close as he could to the screen.

  His moan was deep, guttural, and full of pleasure.

  ****

  “Click on tools.”

  Susan nodded. “Okay.”

  “Click on options.”

  “Okay.”

  “Click on privacy.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now you’ll see there’s a button on the right that says clear history.”

  Susan nodded. “I see it.”

  “So clear your history.”

  ****

  Marcus wiped a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth. “You dirty, dirty—” He stopped suddenly and sat backwards on his stool. He stared at the screen and tapped the keypad. “What? Where did that go?” He scrolled up and down but saw nothing. “No!” he gasped, logging out and then back in again. He clicked from tab to tab to tab searching for the string of messages. “No!” he cried. “It’s gone!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Susan entered the large oak office on command. It was 6.30 p.m. and Dorothy Brown had left her waiting in the corridor like a naughty school girl, punishing her for not disclosing Marcus’s altercation with Daisy Button at the very first opportunity. She glanced out of the large sash window across the dark acre, eyes drawn to the floodlit pitches in the distance. It was cold, dank and Susan couldn’t wait for the day to be over. She stood still in the designated spot, three feet away from the desk.

  “That’s the report?” Dorothy Brown was pointing at the piece of A4 paper that Susan had been clutching in the corridor for the past half hour.

  “Yes.” She stepped forward and handed it over before returning to her spot.

  Dorothy Brown flapped the thin sheet. “Is this it?”

  “The three headings you asked for, with facts.”

  Dorothy huffed and lifted her glasses from the desk, hmm-ing at different points in the text. “Short, but informative,” she said, finally placing the piece of paper back down. “Now tell me. More importantly. How did he behave with Willamena Edgington?”

  “Willamena?” Susan paused. “He was fine, I think. Nothing unprofessional that I was aware of.” She shook her head. “No, there was nothing that I’d add to the report.”

  “Nothing?”

  Susan shook her head. “Nothing I noticed.”

  “Aha, so there could have been something?”

  “No, I didn’t mean that.”

  “But you admit you weren’t paying attention to the pair of them. There could have been something.”

  “No I don’t think so.”

  “Thinking’s not good enough. You have to know.” Dorothy Brown took off her glasses and nodded. “I’ll add you to the list.”

  Susan sounded almost apologetic. “What list?”

  “Professor Ramsbottom’s being investigated, and I do believe we have enough evidence to warrant a tribunal.” She tapped Susan’s report. “You’re not the only witness who’s been fact finding. I’ve had reams from his head of department, and his head of house couldn’t file her report fast enough. Not to mention parental complaints and criticism.”

  “Will it be an official tribunal?”

  Dorothy Brown cleared her throat. “Principal Cavanagh is letting me take the lead on this one. She’s utilising my years of experience. I think I’ll keep it all ‘in house’ to start with. You know how crippling bad publicity can be for an establishment like ours.” Dorothy shook her jowls. “But if he doesn’t jump ship of his own accord then I’ll be more than happy to escalate.”

  Susan glanced back across the acre and stayed silent.

  “So,” said Dorothy with gusto, “until the tribunal.”

  “Will I be needed?”

  “Madam Quinn, you’ll be instrumental. You’ll testify against him. You’ll tell the panel all about his sexual harassment and inappropriate behaviour.” She flapped the report once more. “It’s all in here. There’s no going back now.”

  “I, umm, I don’t think I mentioned the term sexual harassment, did I?”

  “No need.” She nodded. “This speaks for itself.”

  ****

  Susan walked slowly back to her room, unable to decide if Marcus was right in his accusation of Dorothy Brown’s personal vendetta, or if he was, in fact, in need of a professional warning and possible suspension. She shook her head. Marcus was just being Marcus, wasn’t he? She paused. But what if there was something untoward happening between him and Willamena? She nodded. She was only sixteen. That would be cause for a tribunal. Susan shook her head again. No, of course nothing was happening between them. She was smart. Sensible.

  “Madam Quinn, are you having another one of your fits?” The voice was giggling.

  Susan turned around. “Oh, hi girls.”

  It was Champagne’s turn to laugh this time. “We’ve been following you down the corridor and your head’s been wobbling around like Churchill the nodding dog.”

  “Oh.”

  Champagne pulled up alongside her teacher. “Are you okay? Are you still worrying about Jenna? I can show you those pictures now if you want? We were just heading down to the video room for our Edward and Bella fix.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. What’s happened to Mischa and Phats?”

  Champagne laughed. “Twilight.”

  Priggy stepp
ed in closer. “Twilight last night, New Moon tonight, Eclipse tomorrow, and on Saturday night they’re letting us watch both Breaking Dawns.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “Come with us,” said Priggy, smiling. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you in the video room.”

  Champagne rattled the packets of popcorn. “We’ve brought snacks.”

  Priggy patted the pink pillows under her arms. “And pillows.”

  Champagne pushed her friend’s shoulder. “Susie’s not going to be snuggling up with you, Priggs.”

  “She might!”

  “I won’t, and it’s Madam Quinn please, girls.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Champagne. “I think I’m going to message Jenna and tell her to start her training early. You need her back here. It’s obvious.”

  Susan frowned. “You’re in contact with Jenna?”

  “Of course. She’s hilarious on WhatsApp, isn’t she Priggs?”

  “Hilarious!”

  Susan sighed. “Have fun at the film, girls. I’ll see you in class.”

  Priggy wiggled her pillow once more. “Are you sure we can’t tempt you? I spray perfume on my pillow.”

  “No,” said Susan, turning the corner and walking away from them, down the wide oak corridor towards the staff living quarters. She picked up her pace as she pushed through the double doors that lead to the student dorms, deliberately keeping her head low until she got to the safety of the ‘staff only’ section of the block.

  “Ah! Mon amie, I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Oh what now?!” snapped Susan.

  “Temper, temper.”

  “It’s been a long day. I’m heading back to my room.”

  Marcus lifted the corner of his moustache into a lopsided grin. “All of your extra-curricular activities no doubt.”

  Susan glanced over her shoulder to check that the doors had closed behind her. “Never discuss this with me again.”

  “Can I discuss it with others?”

  “There’s nothing to discuss.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” said Marcus rubbing the corners of his mouth with his fingers, “I’ll make you a deal. You stay quiet about me and I’ll stay quiet about you.”

  “Marcus, I’ve handed in the report.”

  “What? You haven’t? As it was?”

  “As it was.”

  “And Jenna? Is she sealing my fate too?”

  Susan shook her head. “I don’t know, Marcus. But this is much bigger than Jenna and I.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Dorothy has reports from your head of department and your head of house. She also says she’s received parental complaints.”

  “Complaints?”

  “Yes, complaints.”

  “Plural? I know about the ridiculous one from Willamena’s parents, but she’s bluffing if she says there are more.”

  “She didn’t name names.” Susan paused. “But there’ll be a tribunal.”

  “Oh don’t talk such nonsense. She’ll wheel old Martha Adams and Mary Llewellyn into some class room and get them to listen to all of your claptrap.” Marcus fingered his thinning hair. “Teachers get suspended instantly if they’re accused of malpractice. I wouldn’t be here if they’d found anything.”

  Susan frowned. “Is there anything to find?”

  “No, of course not.” Marcus tried to smile. “But I need your support, Susan. We could be one another’s defence council.”

  “I don’t need a defence council. I’ve done nothing wrong.” Susan tried to walk off.

  “You’re into more mischief than me, Susan.” Marcus was back at her side matching her pace.

  Susan kept her eyes forward. “What I do in my own time is my own business.”

  “On the school site. On the school Wi-Fi.”

  Susan upped her pace. “In my own apartment. On my own Skype. With my own webcam.”

  Marcus stopped suddenly, letting Susan walk away, as an image of a pork chop flashed into mind. You had two apps open, he thought. You minimised your webcam first.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jenna sat down in a booth near the back of the cocktail bar. It was Thirsty Thursdays and the place was rammed, mostly due to the offer of a free fishbowl with every round of drinks that came to more than twenty euros. She dropped the change into Hugo’s hat, which was sitting in the centre of the table and acting as the makeshift kitty. They had all added forty euros and knew they would be set for the night ahead.

  “What have we got coming?” asked Amber.

  Jenna grinned. “Four Jägerbombs, four bottles of Bud, and a cheeky vimto fishbowl.”

  Lisa looked shocked. “And you still got change from a twenty?”

  “Yes. Lyndsey’s behind the bar.”

  “You dirty dog,” laughed Amber, narrowing her eyes and fingering her tall pink hair. “Are you still seeing her?”

  Jenna shook her head. “Of course not. She’s a friend.” She paused as she handed out the long twisting straws. “I’m happily taken.”

  Hugo spoke in his strong French accent. “I am unsure if everyone knows of zis.” He nodded at Lyndsey who was making her way over with the huge tray of drinks. “I ‘ave just been watching ‘er applying ‘er lipstick and ‘er, ‘ow you say it? Bloosher? Behind zee bar.”

  “She hasn’t,” laughed Jenna.

  “She ‘as,” nodded Hugo as Lyndsey arrived at the table.

  Jenna looked up and smiled at the freshly painted face. “Thanks, Lynds. That’s great. Looks like you’ll be run off your feet tonight.”

  “Oh you know me, calm in a crisis. I’ll still have enough energy to hit a club after my shift if you fancy it? Or maybe we could just go for a coffee in that late night bar back in Morzine? You might need sobering up after all of these fishbowls?” She smiled and pulled her long hair back behind her ear. “Or maybe you’ll want to continue the fun somewhere else?”

  Jenna sensed the silence coming from her booth. All eyes and ears were on her. “Ah, thanks, Lynds, but I don’t think it’s going to be a late one.”

  “Yes it is!” said Amber. “This lot are back on the schools with me next week, so they’re making the most of their current chalet schedule.”

  “Maybe catch you later then?” said Lyndsey, looking at Jenna.

  “Okay, maybe,” said Jenna with a nod.

  The group waited for the barmaid to disappear into the pack of après skiers, before directing their laughter and comments at Jenna. “You’re so bad,” said Lisa.

  “I’m not!”

  “You are,” laughed Amber. “You just can’t say no, can you? I could have been offering myself out on a plate and she’d still only have eyes for you.”

  Jenna shook her head. “I just don’t like being mean to people.”

  “Sorry, I’ve got a girlfriend, isn’t mean,” said Lisa, lifting her straw to the purple coloured bowl.

  “But she’d think I was presuming something if I said that. She’s a friend, that’s all.”

  “A friend you’ve fucked,” added Amber.

  “Zee lady likes you.”

  “Oh stop it you lot,” said Jenna, adding her straw to the bowl, immediately responsible for the sudden drop in liquid height.

  “Games, games, games,” said Hugo tapping his hands on the table. “Can we do zat ducky fuzzy one?”

  “Fuzzy duck?”

  “Zat one! Oui!” said Hugo, displaying his brilliant white smile. “I start. To my left, fuzzy duck.”

  Amber quickly swallowed her mouthful. “Fuzzy duck.”

  “Fuzzy duck,” said Lisa.

  “Does he?” asked Jenna, sending the game back in the opposite direction.

  Lisa grinned. “Ducky fuzz.”

  “Ducky fuzz,” said Amber.

  Hugo nodded. “Ducky fuzz.”

  “Does he?” asked Jenna, once again changing direction.

  “Fuck a duck,” said Hugo, before bursting into laughter. “Zat is not fai
r. You always just say does he!”

  Jenna smiled. “Anyone can say it. You’re getting better though. Let’s go again. To my right.”

  “Wait!” Hugo was beaming once more. “Henri, Henri!”

  Jenna turned around and saw Hugo’s boyfriend edging his way through the mix of people, some of whom were still dressed in ski jackets and salopettes, having come straight from the slopes, and others who were dressed more smartly for a night on the tiles. “Hey,” she said with a wave, to the perfectly preened French man.

  “Henri!” giggled Hugo, quickly plumping up his perfect black quiff and rubbing his tongue across his teeth. “Que faites-vous ici?”

  Henri smiled at the group, “Bonsoir, everyone,” before directing his attention to Hugo. “Changement de plan. Pas de travail.”

  “Come join us,” said Hugo with his hands outstretched.

  Henri looked at the mass of drinks littering the table and pursed his mouth. “Non merci. Je tiens à vous prendre pour un restaurant.”

  Hugo glanced nervously around the group. “Umm.”

  “Go!” said the girls, all having a good enough grasp of French to know that Henri would rather wine and dine his partner than stay and drink like a fish while he fucked a duck.

  “Really?” asked Hugo, already tipping the notes and change out of his hat and onto the table.

  “Désolé, Mesdames. I just love my man.”

  “Now that’s how you do it,” said Amber, nodding at Jenna.

  “Susan’s not here!” said Jenna. “But if she were here then I’d be wining and dining her too. At a restaurant. A posh restaurant, with a pianist and a price tag to match.” She stood up and let Hugo slide out of the booth.

  “No you wouldn’t,” said Lisa, sharing out Hugo’s drinks, “you’d be dragging her out with us.”

  “Bye guys,” said Hugo and Henri, holding hands as they turned around to make their way through the crowd of people.