by Sanjida Kay
Dileep George swallowed uncomfortably, his Adam’s apple pushing out the grizzled skin of his neck. ‘Do you have any idea who created this? Or is writing these messages? This is a primary school, Mrs Baron-Cohen. The pupils here would simply not have the kind of skills…’
‘To create a Facebook page and then post status updates from fake accounts? I’m sure some of them do. Particularly the son of your IT consultant. Who happens to be twelve. A year too old to be attending a primary school. A little fact that seems to have slipped your mind when I first reported his bullying of my daughter to you. But you’re right, it does seem a bit advanced for a kid. I assume Aaron is behind it – he could even be helping Levi.’
‘This website is shocking but it’s a matter for the police. It is not—’
‘I can’t believe that, even with this proof, you’re unwillingly to believe what is taking place in your own school.’
‘These posts could be from anyone,’ said Mr George.
‘I’ve had enough,’ said Laura, snatching the phone out of his hands. ‘I’m taking Autumn out of this school right now. She’s not safe here.’
He sat back in his chair and looked up at her. His unease seemed to have dissipated. ‘I very much doubt that Social Services will look on such an action favourably.’
Laura turned and walked out, almost knocking over the secretary, who had come, presumably, to say she should have made an appointment, tell her off for running in school or to remonstrate with her about the mud she had tracked into the headmaster’s room. Laura marched down the corridor. She could hear the secretary asking Mr George if everything was okay. She angrily shoved Autumn’s phone in her pocket and wondered where to start looking for her daughter.
Autumn would probably be outside with the other children, but it wouldn’t hurt to check the classroom, just in case. She had an after-image of her pale face, as if she were underwater.
‘Wait.’
She turned to see Mr George hurrying after her, his blazer flapping, his brogues so worn that his steps were almost soundless.
‘I can understand your concern, Mrs Baron-Cohen. Let me speak to Mr Jablonski about this. I can’t accept your accusation that he would be behind it, and I don’t believe Levi is either, but if – if Levi knows anything about this site, Aaron would know.’
‘How?’
‘He told me once that he monitors Levi’s Internet usage. Something to do with—’
‘Being able to hack into his laptop or computer remotely?’ Laura interrupted.
Mr George nodded. ‘I don’t understand the technology – he has a mirror of Levi’s hard drive on his own computer. I don’t think he looks at it much – he says it’s more of a precautionary measure. I’m sure you’ll find that Levi is not implicated, but Aaron will be able to help us trace who could have set up this Facebook account and is posting those awful messages.’
Laura stared at him silently. His sallow skin looked greasy under the strip-lighting in the corridor. She assumed that Aaron was ultimately behind the troll page and had either set it up himself or shown Levi how to. Either way, he would naturally deny all knowledge and would have covered his traces effectively. And, if he hadn’t, why would he help her? The woman who’d pushed his child so hard he’d fallen and cut his cheek open on a rock. The woman he’d been cyber-bullying for the past ten days. She started walking away from Mr George.
To her surprise, the headmaster followed her.
‘Mrs Baron-Cohen.’ He held out his arm as if to touch hers, but withdrew his hand awkwardly. ‘Let me accompany you.’
‘I am taking Autumn out of this school,’ she said, quickening her stride.
‘I understand. I think it’s the right thing to do.’
‘What?’ She swung around to face him. ‘A minute ago you…’
He bowed his head in acknowledgement and held out his hands towards her palms up, as if in supplication.
‘I can see you and Autumn are both upset. I don’t want to lose her as a pupil. Take her home today. You have had quite a shock. Keep Autumn at home tomorrow too. I’ll mark it down as sick leave. In the meantime, I’ll speak to Mr Jablonski. But please, think about what you’re doing. This isn’t a long-term solution. Bring Autumn back to school on Monday. It won’t do you any favours when you have to appear in court if you have hindered your daughter’s education. After all, you do not have another school ready and willing to take her. I know, for a fact, that there are no places in any of the schools you are in the catchment area for. Your only other option would be to send her to a fee-paying school.’
‘How do you know that I’m not going to do that?’ She wondered if his sole concern was still only for the school’s reputation.
‘That is entirely up to you, Mrs Baron-Cohen, if you should chose to do so… and can afford it. But it is not why you’re removing Autumn at this point in time. She has, in many ways, settled in well here and I can see that she is an asset to the school. As I say, I do not want to lose her, nor do I wish her education to be jeopardized.’
He half-smiled at her, although his eyes remained cold. She could see the glint of his bridge-work. How on earth had he come to be in charge of a primary school, she wondered? She couldn’t imagine him making a child feel at ease.
They were standing a few steps away from Autumn’s classroom now. The noise from the playground seemed to boom and echo in the confined space.
‘She’ll be outside. It’s still lunch break,’ said Mr George.
Laura opened the door and stepped inside.
Autumn was in the classroom on her own, bending over one of the monitors. There was a faint flash of light, as if she’d just switched it off. The other monitor screens were dark. When she looked up at them, her expression was guilty.
‘What are you doing in here?’ asked Mr George, turning on the light.
‘Mrs Sibson said I could stay inside,’ Autumn whispered. ‘I don’t feel well.’
Laura held out her arms. ‘Autumn, we’re going home.’
The girl flew across the room and hugged her.
‘Is there anything you need to get?’
Autumn shook her head, still buried in her mother’s embrace. Laura disentangled herself and strode across the room to pick up Autumn’s satchel.
‘I’ll call you when I know more,’ said Mr George, opening the front door of the school for them.
Autumn grabbed her coat and ran after her, bowing her head so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone.
In the car she looked almost cheerful again.
‘What were you watching on those computers?’ asked Laura, putting the key in the ignition.
Her daughter’s expression clouded and she turned to stare out of the window.
‘Are we going home?’
‘I have to go to work,’ said Laura. ‘I saw your phone, Autumn. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’
‘You looked at my phone?’ She was suddenly furious.
‘I thought you’d forgotten it. I was going to give it back to you but then I saw… I wish you’d told me, love. I couldn’t leave you there for another minute.’
‘But what will I do while you’re working?’ She had her arms crossed and was resolutely turned as far away from Laura as she could within the confines of her seat belt and booster seat.
‘Do you want to talk about it? Some of those texts were awful. Did they frighten you?’
Autumn said nothing and refused to meet Laura’s eye in the rear-view mirror.
‘Are they from Levi? Do you think he’s behind the Facebook page too?’
‘You saw the Facebook page?’ Autumn snapped her attention back to Laura.
‘Yes. I’m sorry, love. I just wish I’d been able to stop this earlier. Or that you’d told me. How long has it been going on for?’
‘Facebook is private. You shoul
dn’t be looking at my stuff – spying on me like this.’
‘I wasn’t spying! I saw the Facebook icon on your phone, when I was looking at the texts. I guess it was logged in as you already. All those awful messages.’
‘Messages? Just messages?’
‘Yes, messages. Written on your wall.’ Laura looked at her in confusion. She must have seen them. She knew they were there – so why was her reaction so odd?
‘They’re obscene. You must never think any of that stuff those kids have written is true. Not for a minute. You are beautiful and kind and smart.’
Autumn sat back in her booster seat. ‘You still haven’t told me what I’m going to do when you’re working.’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Laura, pulling out into the main road. ‘I hadn’t thought that far. Maybe you’ll be able to sit in a café. You could do some drawing. Or read a book.’
‘I didn’t bring my pad with me. And I don’t like my book,’ said Autumn sulkily.
She resumed looking out of the window and didn’t say another word until they arrived at the garden in Frenchay. Laura pulled over behind Barney’s Land Rover, his Bronze Beech logo emblazoned on the side.
Barney and Ted looked up and then did a double-take as Autumn climbed out of the car.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Barney, walking over and looking from her to Autumn.
‘There was an emergency. I had to take her out of school.’
‘What kind of emergency? Doesn’t look as if she’s bleeding to me,’ said Ted.
‘Look, I’m sorry about this, Barney, but—’
‘She can’t stay here,’ said Barney quickly. ‘Health and Safety would have a field day. We’re working, in case you haven’t noticed. Laying tiles. It’s no place for a child.’
‘I know that. It’s far too cold for her to hang about here anyway. I thought she could maybe go to a nearby café – there must be something around the corner – and I’d check up on her every hour. Maybe every half hour. Just for the rest of the day.’
‘Laura.’ Barney rubbed his face with his hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves and hardly seemed to feel the cold. ‘It’s Frenchay. There are no chi-chi cafés. The nearest place to grab an instant coffee is the Texaco garage.’
‘Then I’m sorry, Barney, but I’ll have to go home. I wanted you to know it was serious. I wouldn’t have left otherwise.’
‘Frankly, you’ve been having a lot of “emergencies” recently. And when you have been here, you haven’t been pulling your weight. Your mind has been elsewhere. I don’t know what is going on with you, but I’m afraid this is your last chance. You’ll have to go home now, you can’t stay here with the kid, and I’m not paying you for today. At all. But you need to sort yourself out. If you don’t turn up tomorrow, or you show up with the kid, then you’re fired.’
Over Barney’s shoulder Laura could see Ted smirking. She was about to argue – she had, after all, put in a morning’s work – but then she thought Barney might fire her on the spot. Instead, she held the car door open for Autumn and got in the other side.
‘Are you going to make me go back to school tomorrow?’ asked Autumn as they drove off.
‘No.’
‘Are you going to leave me at home?’
‘No, of course not,’ said Laura, thinking that there really was no one Autumn could stay with.
‘But you’ll lose your job. That’s what Barney said.’
‘We’ll see. He’s feeling cross right now. By tomorrow he’ll have calmed down. Anyway, I’ll have my own garden company soon. And I’ll be the boss. I’ll be the one hiring and firing people.’
At home, Autumn raced up the stairs to change out of her uniform, running faster than Laura had seen her move all week. Laura was about to make herself a cup of tea when she realized that there was no milk, not even a spare pint tucked in the freezer for emergencies. In fact, the cupboards and the fridge were almost empty. She still hadn’t been able to reinstate her debit card. Tomorrow, she promised herself, she’d go to the bank and sort it out.
‘Autumn,’ she shouted up the stairs. When her daughter didn’t appear, she started searching for her and found her in her bedroom. ‘Sorry, love, we’re going to have to go out again. There’s no food in the house. We’ll have to do a shop.’
‘No way, Mum. It was too embarrassing last time when the lady at the checkout wouldn’t take your card.’
‘I’ll put it on my credit card. Come on. It’ll be fun. You can choose some nice things for dinner.’
Autumn shook her head. She looked utterly exhausted, her face was pinched and the circles beneath her eyes greenish. Laura hesitated. She didn’t want to drag Autumn around the supermarket but, on the other hand, she was reluctant to leave her alone, even if it was only for a short time. And they literally had nothing to eat in the house.
‘Come on, sweetheart. I don’t want you to stay here by yourself.’
‘I’ll be fine. I really, really don’t want to go, Mum.’
‘What if…’ She paused, wondering if she was being extreme. ‘What if I put the alarm on? You know, like we did last night. You’d have to stay up here though, and not go downstairs to the kitchen or sitting room. Or answer the door. Not that you should answer the door if I’m not here.’
‘Yes,’ said Autumn, her voice slurring with tiredness. ‘That’s a good idea. I’ll stay in my room.’
‘And I won’t be long.’
‘Just go, Mum.’
Laura drove to Waitrose. Normally she shopped at Lidl – Waitrose was too expensive – but it was the nearest supermarket. She could do a quick shop and be home in half an hour.
She felt nervous, leaving Autumn by herself. She imagined what Vanessa would say, or rather, wouldn’t say, merely arching an eyebrow in lieu of commenting. Vanessa had frequently left her on her own to run errands, as she put it, when she was as young as seven. No, that wasn’t quite right, she corrected herself. Damian had been with her, the responsible nine-year-old, who would disappear into his room, shutting the door behind him, to work on his latest science project. Anything could have happened to her, Laura thought wildly. She’d felt frightened in their large London house, unable to even hear Damian, and so she wouldn’t move from wherever her mother left her – usually curled up with a book by the radiator in the front room, watching out of the window for her mum to return.
Once she’d reached the supermarket, she scanned the Waitrose essentials range and bought the cheapest items she could find, enough to tide them over for a short while. They were out of all the basics: milk, bread, cereal, orange juice. At the last minute, she tossed in a large marbled bar of milk and white chocolate studded with raspberries because it reminded her of the birthday cake she’d once made Autumn, the photograph of it and her daughter blowing out the candles now irretrievably lost. At the checkout she handed the cashier her credit card.
The woman’s brow furrowed. Laura stopped packing her bags.
The woman shook her head. ‘I’m very sorry. I’ve tried your card twice now and it’s been declined.’
Laura put the bag she was filling down and walked out of the shop. In the car she buried her head in her hands and cried. She was exhausted. Her eyes felt raw.
There had to be a way to stop him.
There was a sharp rap on the car window. A woman stood outside with a baby balanced on her hip. Laura wiped her eyes and opened the window. It was Amy with her youngest, Tom.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked in her high-pitched and oddly child-like voice.
Laura nodded. ‘Yes. Fine, thanks.’
Amy lifted Tom up and hitched him onto her other hip. ‘I saw you inside. At the till.’
Laura could feel a blush beginning to spread across her cheeks. She hated the sound of Amy’s voice. It set her teeth on edge. She hadn’t even changed and she was still in her mud-covered
trousers. Amy, on the other hand, looked petite and perfect. She was wearing a diaphanous dress over thick woollen tights, with knee-high boots and a shearling aviator jacket. As if she’d stepped out of an advertisement.
Amy balanced her handbag in the crook of her arm and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She said, ‘I could pay for your shopping.’
‘What?’ said Laura, turning back to her.
‘It’s what credit cards are for. Come on. If we hurry, they won’t have unpacked your bags yet.’ She started walking towards the supermarket, leaving Laura no option but to jump out of the car and follow her.
‘Really, Amy, there’s no need. I’m going to go to the bank tomorrow.’
‘Well, when you do, you can pay me back. Silly to waste a trip.’
Laura felt utterly mortified and also relieved. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if Amy hadn’t shown up. Amy stopped a woman in Customer Services and swiftly had Laura’s shopping, which was just being unpacked, put back in a trolley. Tom gurgled and pointed at the shoppers, trailing a string of drool from his chubby fingers.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ said Laura, as they walked back to the car.
‘It’s no problem. I’m parked over here,’ she said, gesturing to a Volkswagen three spaces away from Laura’s battered Toyota.
Laura was thinking that not one of the other mothers would have stopped to help her. No one had even asked her if Autumn was all right. Not one of the other mothers had even questioned what had happened between her and Levi, preferring to believe Aaron and the gossip circulating the playground. She was about to say goodbye when Amy, as if guessing her thoughts, spoke.
‘I don’t know if you know this already, but the police are just over halfway through interviewing the boys. You know, the witnesses to the incident between you and Levi? They’ve collected four, maybe five statements so far.’
A spot of rain landed on Laura’s eyelashes and she blinked. She was thinking how tactful Amy’s phrasing was when she continued.
