The Art of Friendship

by Lisa Ireland

  ‘Harry is fine, Ms Munroe. However, there has been an incident at the school this morning. Our records indicate that his parents are overseas at the moment and that you are acting as his legal guardian. Is that correct?’

  Legal guardian? Shit. ‘It is.’

  ‘We’re going to need you to come to the school as soon as possible.’

  Kit panicked. She was already in Maureen’s bad books. Leaving now would not be good. If the kid wasn’t hurt, what could possibly be so important that it required her immediate presence? ‘Um, I’m not sure that I can. I mean, I’m at work right now and –’

  ‘This is a matter of critical importance, Ms Munroe. Harry is outside Mr Quinlan’s office right now awaiting your arrival.’

  ‘Mr Quinlan?’

  ‘The principal.’ Jane’s tone hinted at her impatience. ‘Please bring any documentation you have confirming your guardianship of Harry.’

  Kit was about to reply that she didn’t have any official documentation on her, that she’d have to go via the house to collect it, but Jane had already ended the call.

  ‘Pompous cow.’

  ‘Are you talking to me?’ Maureen’s tone was faintly amused.

  ‘God no. Sorry, Maur, I didn’t notice you come in. I was distracted.’

  ‘By a “pompous cow” by the sounds of it.’

  Kit gave a half-hearted smile. ‘Yeah, about that . . . Maureen, I’m so sorry, but I’m going to need to duck out for a bit.’

  To her relief, Maureen’s expression was one of concern. ‘Everything okay with you?’

  Kit shook her head. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure.’ She relayed the phone conversation with the school’s receptionist.

  Maureen made a face. ‘Gawd. That doesn’t sound good, does it? What do you reckon he’s done?’

  ‘I can’t imagine. Surely it can’t be too serious. Smoking in the toilets or something? He’s at one of those swanky private schools, they take all that stuff pretty seriously, I think.’

  Maureen rolled her eyes. ‘This is why I don’t have kids. Look, Kit, why don’t you work remotely for the rest of the day. You don’t have many sessions booked, do you? I can take your group for you this afternoon.’

  ‘Really? Oh, Maur, that would be great. I’ll email the notes for the group when I get on the train.’ Maureen might come across as a tough old broad, but all things considered she was a good manager and, more importantly, a decent human being.

  By the time she drove up the tree-lined boulevard that led to Claybourne, the better part of an hour had passed. Normally the liquidambars – spectacular at this time as year as their leaves turned to gold – would have brightened her day. Autumn had always been her favourite season. But today she barely noticed the trees. When she finally arrived at the school, flustered from her roundabout trip, she was shocked to find Harry sitting outside the principal’s office, his uniform torn, knees bloodied and eyes red-rimmed. He looked more like a frightened toddler than the confident young man she’d farewelled this morning. She rushed to his side. ‘Harry! What happened? Are you okay?’ She placed a hand protectively on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off and gave the barest nod in reply to her question.

  ‘Ms Munroe?’

  Kit recognised the voice as the same one she’d heard earlier on the phone. ‘Yes. You must be Ms Stapleton.’ She offered the older woman her hand.

  Ms Stapleton seemed momentarily taken aback but she recovered her composure quickly, taking Kit’s hand and giving it a firm pump. ‘Do you have the documentation I requested?’

  Kit nodded and handed over the papers Libby had signed before leaving the country. At the time Kit had thought it was overkill, but now she was grateful for Libby’s penchant for dotting ‘i’s and crossing ‘t’s.

  Jane Stapleton slid the document out of its envelope and gave Kit a satisfied nod. ‘Take a seat, please. Mr Quinlan will be ready for you soon.’ She rapped twice on the principal’s office door before opening it and disappearing inside.

  Kit took a seat beside Harry, who was staring straight ahead. ‘What happened, Harry?’

  He shrugged. ‘Nothing. I just got into a bit of a fight. It really isn’t any big deal.’

  Kit nodded slowly. She wasn’t sure what the protocol was in this situation. Was she supposed to play the part of the outraged parent, demanding that he tell her the whole story? Was that what Libby would expect? Her stomach churned at the thought of Libby’s reaction to this. No doubt this would confirm her belief that nobody could care for Harry the way she did. To Kit’s knowledge the boy had never been in any sort of trouble before. Then again, maybe he had and Libby had chosen not to share that information with her.

  She was saved from having to make any comment to Harry by the reappearance of Ms Stapleton. ‘Mr Quinlan will see you now.’ The secretary opened the office door wide and beckoned for them to come in.

  A tall, dark-haired man in an impeccable navy suit made his way towards her and held out his hand for Kit to shake. He smiled apologetically and Kit returned the gesture. He was younger – and much better looking – than she’d imagined.

  ‘Ms Munroe, I’m John Quinlan, principal here at Claybourne. I’m sorry to have to get you down here under these circumstances, but unfortunately, with Harry’s parents away, we had no choice.’ He gestured for her to take a seat. Harry wordlessly took the seat beside her. ‘I’m not sure if anyone has explained the situation to you yet.’ He looked at Harry, who dropped his gaze to the floor and said nothing.

  Kit shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. I have no idea.’

  Mr Quinlan took a seat behind his large, highly polished timber desk. ‘Harry here has been in a fight this morning, and unfortunately has injured another student. We had to administer first aid to the other student, and he has had to visit the emergency room for an X-ray. I’ve just had a phone call from the staff member who accompanied the student to the hospital and fortunately . . .’ he paused to give Harry a meaningful look, ‘his nose is not broken.’

  Kit gasped. ‘Harry!’ she said before she could stop herself. ‘What on earth were you thinking? I can’t believe you’d do something so awful.’

  Harry’s face went crimson but he didn’t respond.

  ‘Now at Claybourne, as Harry’s parents would be aware from the enrolment agreement they signed, we have zero tolerance for violence. An incident like this has very serious consequences, and depending on the circumstances can lead to a student’s expulsion.’

  Kit’s stomach lurched. Fuck. How the hell was she going to explain this to Libby? ‘Mr Quinlan, I completely understand the school’s zero tolerance policy, and I’m certainly not condoning Harry’s behaviour, but before we start thinking about disciplinary measures, I think we need to hear Harry’s side of the story. I can assure you he is not a violent or aggressive boy and he’s never been in trouble at school before – in fact he won the Citizen’s Award at his previous school. I’m sure there is a good reason for his behaviour.’

  John Quinlan nodded. ‘I agree. We would love Harry to tell us his side of the story, but unfortunately so far he has not cooperated. We have some witnesses to the event, but before I make any decisions about what the consequences will be I would like to have a proper statement from all parties.’ He looked directly at Harry. ‘Now’s your chance, son. If you won’t tell us what happened then we can’t help you.’

  Harry shrugged. ‘It was just a fight. I don’t really remember what happened. There was a bit of pushing and shoving at the lockers and I just snapped. I’m sorry.’

  The principal raised his eyebrows. ‘You just snapped for no reason? Nobody said or did anything to provoke you?’

  Harry shook his head. ‘I dunno. Not really. I got pushed so I hit back.’

  Mr Quinlan placed his palms on the desk and sighed. ‘I would really like to show some leniency in this case. I realise Harry is
new to our school and is still settling in.’ He directed his gaze at Kit. ‘This morning I’ve spoken to his teachers, all of whom say he is polite and well-behaved in class and is doing well overall. I can’t let this incident go unpunished, but if I thought there were mitigating circumstances then I could perhaps afford to enforce a sanction towards the lower end of the scale. However, if this was a completely unprovoked act of violence, then I’m going to need to talk to Harry’s parents about whether Claybourne is the right choice for Harry’s education.’

  Kit realised her palms were sweating. She placed her hands on her skirt and tried to discreetly wipe them as she turned her attention to Harry. ‘Harry, please, there must be more to it than what you’ve told us. It’s okay to tell the truth. No one will think you are a dobber in here. You need to speak up.’

  Once again Harry remained silent.

  The principal shook his head. ‘All right then. Harry, you are suspended from school until further notice. I’d like you to go and collect your things from your locker. When you are done you can come back here and wait on the seat outside for your . . .’ he looked at Kit, ‘aunt?’

  ‘Close,’ Kit said. ‘I’m actually Harry’s godmother.’

  The principal nodded and Kit inwardly rolled her eyes at her correction. What did it matter what relation she was to Harry? John Quinlan was being perfectly pleasant considering the circumstances, but the man had unnerved her slightly. For some reason she felt compelled to say the right thing, to show him they were on the same side.

  They were both silent for a moment as Harry left the room. Once the door was closed the principal stood up and came around to sit beside her. ‘Look, this is a bad situation, and it’s made worse by the fact Harry’s parents are away. Perhaps I should try to speak to them over the phone? I made the decision to contact you as a matter of urgency as we need someone to attend the school to escort Harry home, but I am more than happy to call his parents to discuss the matter as well.’

  Kit’s heart thumped against her chest wall. The thought of Libby getting a call from the principal while Harry was under her care sent her heart rate into overdrive, but the thought of telling Libby herself wasn’t any better. She really didn’t know what the best course of action would be, but the principal was waiting for her answer. In the end, she was Harry’s guardian. He was her responsibility, and the news would probably be better coming directly from her, no matter how hard that phone call would be to make. ‘They’re in Malaysia. Harry’s father is attending a work event and his mother decided to go along. They are contactable by phone if you think it’s absolutely necessary, but I’d appreciate it if you refrained from calling them just yet. I’d like the opportunity to get the truth out of Harry before we speak to them, and maybe it would be better if the news came from me. I have no doubt that Harry’s mum will want to speak to you in person, but I’d like the opportunity to get to the bottom of it and speak to her myself first, if that’s okay.’

  Mr Quinlan nodded. ‘You’re his legal guardian at the moment, so that decision rests with you. I’m happy for you to inform Harry’s parents of the situation and they can call me to discuss the matter further.’

  Kit’s discomfort must have been obvious to the principal, as he adopted a warmer tone. ‘Look, Harry doesn’t strike me as a troublemaker, and just between you and me the injured party is a child who has had his fair share of issues over time. And it seems to me there were a few boys involved. My gut feeling is that Harry lashed out because he was being victimised. But I can’t just assume that.’

  ‘I understand. So what’s the next step?’

  ‘Harry is suspended from school while we investigate the matter further. If I find any evidence of bullying then the other student, or students, involved will be appropriately sanctioned. If I discover that Harry just lashed out without due cause, then I will need to discuss the expulsion option with his parents. In any case it would be best for Harry if he could give us some insight into what really happened.’

  ‘I’ll do my best to get Harry to open up to me, and I’ll let you know if I find out anything. And of course I’ll inform his parents as soon as I can.’

  He went back to his desk and picked up a business card, which he pressed into her hand. ‘This is my direct line. Feel free to call me as soon as you have any news. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms Munroe.’

  ‘Likewise,’ she said, and despite the odd circumstances she realised she meant it.

  *

  Harry had headed straight for his bedroom the moment they got home and Kit had let him be ever since. She was no expert on adolescents but her job at the women’s centre had given her insight into the behaviour of people in crisis. Badgering rarely got you the answers you needed. And unlike the women she dealt with, time was on Harry’s side. She could afford to give him some space. But now it was almost dinnertime and she figured he would be getting hungry seeing as he hadn’t emerged to eat lunch. She made her way up the corridor and knocked softly on his bedroom door. ‘Harry, can I come in?’

  When no answer was forthcoming she opened the door a crack. ‘Harry, come on, mate, I just want to know you’re all right.’

  ‘I’m okay.’ His voice was thick and nasal, like he’d been crying.

  Her chest ached at the thought of his distress. She opened the door wider and took a step inside the room. ‘It’s so warm, I can’t really be bothered cooking. I was thinking Macca’s for tea. What do you think?’

  He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes. ‘Mum doesn’t approve of McDonald’s.’ He was talking to her, so that was a start.

  ‘Yeah, I know, but sometimes circumstances call for a bit of a treat. And at the risk of stating the bleeding obvious, your mum’s not here.’

  He gave a half-hearted smile. ‘I don’t even know where the nearest McDonald’s is. There’s not one anywhere nearby that I know of.’

  ‘I don’t mind going for a bit of a drive. There’s one in Altona North, I think. We could order at the drive-through and head back down to the beach to eat if you like. It’s a nice enough night.’

  ‘Okay. That sounds good. I might just wash my face and change my clothes.’ He was beginning to sound less like a surly teenager and more like the boy she knew and loved.

  Once they were in the car Kit refrained from asking him anything. She turned the radio up and sang along enthusiastically, and it wasn’t long before Harry started to laugh at her.

  ‘Don’t give up your day job,’ he said.

  ‘What? You don’t like my singing? I happen to think I’m very talented.’

  ‘I hate to be the one to tell you this but, um . . . I think you might be kidding yourself.’

  She grinned. ‘Do I at least get points for trying?’ From the corner of her eye she spied his lopsided smile.

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘So, what are we ordering?’

  ‘I’m up for a Quarter Pounder meal. And maybe a sundae too.’

  ‘I might need you to order for me. I can’t remember the last time I went to McDonald’s, or any burger place for that matter.’

  ‘I don’t get to go much either. I haven’t been at all since we moved here.’

  Kit decided to take the opening. ‘So, Harry, tell me the truth, do you like it down here? Don’t worry, you won’t offend me, and I won’t tell tales to your mum or dad, so you can be honest.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s all right, I s’pose.’

  ‘Just all right, huh? I guess that’s fair enough. Let’s look at it from all angles, then. What’s good about living down here? Apart from the obvious benefit of being close to me, of course.’

  He smiled again. ‘Well, I like the house, and the pool. Dad promised we can get a dog soon, so that’s good.’

  ‘And the not so good?’

  He hung his head. ‘The school is crap.’

  Kit nodded. ‘Yeah, school can be
like that sometimes. Is the work too hard? Or is it something else?’

  ‘The work’s not too hard. In fact a lot of it is pretty easy, especially if you’re not a dickhead.’

  Kit knew that Libby would have chastised him for using that type of language, and possibly even given him a little sermon on people having different abilities. Which, of course, Kit totally agreed with, but right now winning Harry’s confidence was a higher priority than picking him up on his word choice. ‘Are there many people who struggle with the work?’

  He sighed. ‘Yeah, a few. They don’t listen, they muck around in class, but no one cares.’

  This wasn’t the answer she’d expected. Surely a top-ranking school like Claybourne had better discipline than that? ‘Really? I’m pretty surprised to hear that, mate. You mean the teachers don’t do anything about it at all?’

  ‘I dunno, kinda. Sometimes the teachers don’t notice. If they do they tell them off or send them out of class, but then the next class they’re right back in there doing the same stuff.’

  ‘So what is it exactly that they do, Harry?’

  She felt him tense. ‘Just stuff. Don’t worry about it.’ His face had reddened and the carefree look of just moments before had disappeared.

  Kit knew better than to push it. They were just about to pull up in the drive-through anyway, so she just shrugged and said no more.

  It was a still autumn night, perfect for a picnic. It didn’t take too long to drive back to Altona beach and once they got there Kit was lucky enough to nab a park close to the sand. She dragged her beach towel from the boot of her car – one of the advantages of never cleaning the car out was that she often had the very thing she needed even if she hadn’t thought to specifically pack it – and followed Harry. They kicked off their shoes and settled down on the towel next to each other, both looking out at the calm water. Harry opened the large paper bag and started distributing their indulgent meal. Well, indulgent to him. Kit couldn’t really think of anything she’d like to consume less. But she knew it was Harry’s favourite, possibly because his mother so ardently disapproved of it, and tonight was all about Harry. They ate in silence for a while and then Harry started to throw fries to the seagulls that had gathered nearby. Kit watched as he timed his throws carefully, obviously aiming for the one-legged gull who was slower off the mark than all the rest. The gull managed to score a couple, but the others quickly caught on to what was happening and started to attack his one-legged friend.