Cruel Shame

by Sofia Daniel

  “I think Kendrick sees Gideon as a rival,” I murmured back.

  Maxwell snorted and placed an arm around my waist. “Nobody could out-gentleman Adewale. He’s the only person on that table who doesn’t want to get into your knickers.”

  As we reached the table, the other students glanced and giggled at the display, as though it was one of the funny things the boys did every day.

  Gideon and the knights remained standing until Maxwell made a show of pulling out my seat and pushing it in as I sat. A burst of giddy happiness filled my chest, but it was ruined by a stab of guilt. How could I enjoy myself when Mr. Burgh had been cast out and branded a predator?

  No sooner had the servers ladled out a minty watercress soup than loud chatter spread across the room. Students turned in our direction. I stiffened, wondering why they were choosing now to gape, when they barely reacted to the boys rising from their seats.

  Gideon, who sat opposite, glanced over my shoulder and narrowed his eyes.

  I turned to find Elizabeth standing in the doorway with a face like a slapped ass.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A sharp breath whistled through my teeth, and my fighting instincts reared up in a hot rush of fury. How dare she show her face after everything she did? I dropped my spoon in my bowl and placed a hand on the table, ready to stand, but Maxwell grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t,” he whispered.

  My nostrils flared. “But she—”

  “We all know what she did, but let someone else have a go at her. The more of her former customers and admirers who turn on Elizabeth, the better it will be for us to dismantle her.”

  “Alright.” I picked up my spoon and stirred my soup.

  Some of the students sitting around the table glanced at me as though to ask what I was going to do about Elizabeth since she had screwed me over the most. I ignored them and continued eating.

  Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I would like everybody’s attention, please,”

  I didn’t turn around. The annoyed twist of Gideon’s lips was enough to tell me that Elizabeth was looking pathetic standing in the doorway about to make a speech.

  “There have been rumors of impropriety—”

  “Rumors,” bellowed Mr. McGarr from the head table. “You went and bloody told everyone on TV that Mr. Burgh was a molester.”

  “M-maybe he was,” Elizabeth said.

  My shoulders slumped. “Now the stupid cow’s gone on the offensive.”

  “What do you want E-liar-beth?” shouted Maeve from the other side of the room.

  The younger students burst into giggles. I reached across the table and picked up a piece of garlic bread. Name-calling wouldn’t work on someone who had jumped down the rabbit hole of insanity and guzzled four bottles of liquid psychosis. I crunched the warm, buttery bread between my teeth, waiting for Elizabeth to finish her announcement and bugger off.

  At last, she spoke. “When I associated with Myra Highmore’s slimming business—”

  “Your business, you mean.” Maeve stalked across the room with a gang of girls at her back. “Myra had nothing to do with it. We paid you for the capsules, and we know you supplied those boys with the magic ingredient for the curry.”

  “You’re mistaken.” Elizabeth’s voice rose to a squeak. “Myra made them.”

  I leaned across and whispered to Maxwell, “You said she regretted all the trouble she caused Myra.”

  “All the trouble Lady Liddell caused Myra,” he whispered back. “That girl has followed her around since the first year, but Elizabeth never made a move because… You’ve seen her. The only reason they were together was because Myra made herself so available.”

  I picked up my water glass and took a long sip, washing away the taste of garlic and herbs. Myra was probably lying on a thin mattress, wondering how her life amounted to facing jail for attempted murder.

  The girls formed a tight circle around Elizabeth, driving her out of the dining room. Up on the head table, Mrs. Campbell raised her chin, her face etched with a look of naked hatred. When Maeve and the others returned, the girls closed the double doors and strutted to their table to a round of cheers.

  Elizabeth must have called home crying because the next morning at breakfast, Lady Liddell sat in Mr. Burgh’s place, looking like a blow-up baboon with over-inflated red lips. With her surveying the quiet dining hall, nobody dared to start shit with Elizabeth. Elizabeth sat alone close to the head table and ordered every item on the menu.

  The servers shot her disapproving looks, especially since she kept distracting them from handing out dishes to the other students, but nobody dared speak up.

  I shook my head, hoping we could get this plan together. The night before, Mr. Burgh and I had swabbed the insides of our cheeks with cotton buds, placed them in paper envelopes with our initials, and into another envelope addressed to his solicitor. Even if Mother refused to help us, he had a plan in place to sue the Liddells for harassment and libel.

  As Gideon was explaining to the table how his father got to travel around with the oil company, Lady Liddell appeared at my side, filling my nostrils with a sharp, floral perfume.

  “Miss Hancock?” she said. “Please join us immediately for an emergency hearing with the Board of Governors.”

  My stomach dropped. I raised my head to meet her gaze, but the woman was already halfway to the head table.

  “What’s happening?” asked Orlando.

  “Remember I told you about the text I got from the academy yesterday morning?”

  He frowned. “The one about the indefinite leave?”

  I nodded. “It looks like she wants me to spout a stream of bullshit to keep my place at the academy.”

  Kendrick’s lips tightened. “An ambush.”

  “Depending on who’s there, we might be able to take advantage of it.” Maxwell pulled out his smartphone and tapped a few buttons. “This model has a better microphone than yours. Even if you slip it into your pocket, the audio is crystal clear. I have no idea what they’ll say, but you’ve got to be prepared with these bastards, right?”

  I glanced at Gideon, who gave me an approving nod.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  Walking to the conference room was like walking to my own funeral and knowing that immediately afterward, I’d be dispatched to the pits of hell. Maxwell and Orlando flanked me on the left and right, their large bodies providing me with the strength I needed to put one step in front of the other.

  This would be an inquisition. Lady Liddell had probably already prepared a bunch of rubbish that proved Mr. Burgh was unfit to be the headmaster, and no one would give a shit that her daughter introduced drugs to the school or that she supplied a girl with a gun.

  Rapid footsteps followed us down the hallway. I turned to find Mrs. Campbell hurrying after us. We paused, allowing her to catch up, and she offered Maxwell and Orlando tired smiles.

  “Go to class, boys.” Even though she pulled back her shoulders to straighten her posture, the strain of recent events showed in her eyes. “I will escort Miss Hancock to her hearing.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Just a bit of nonsense. Everything will work itself out.”

  The boys turned to me as if asking permission. I smiled and mouthed at them to go. Even if Mr. Burgh wouldn’t be in the room, and Mrs. Campbell was powerless against Lady Liddell, I still had the truth on my side. That was more powerful than all that family’s toxic bullshit.

  Mrs. Campbell and I stood in the hallway as the students darted in and out of classrooms before the first bell. Orlando and Maxwell disappeared through a door that led down the stairwell.

  “You’ve made some rather influential friends,” she said.

  “Their families?” I asked.

  “And the boys themselves.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Between them, I’m sure they’ll come up with a way to put a certain young madam in her place.”

  When
the first bell sounded, the students disappeared into their classrooms, and Lady Liddell strode out of the dining hall with her nose in the air. Her steps faltered to find us both standing in the hallway, but she gathered herself and sauntered toward us like this was some sort of catwalk. Elizabeth jogged after her at her heels.

  “Come along,” said Lady Liddell. “This hearing won’t start without either of you.”

  The woman click-clacked down the hallway with a feline gait she’d probably practiced in the mirror. She wore red-soled Manolo Blahnik stilettos with seamed stockings with a bodycon skirt that hugged an ass that sagged like two bags of flour.

  Mrs. Campbell’s eyes blazed with loathing, and the corners of her lips turned down with disgust. She curled her hands into fists and inhaled a deep breath through her flared nostrils, looking like she was ready to spew out a few home truths.

  I placed my hand on the woman’s arm and shook my head. Mr. Burgh needed her in place, where she could keep an eye on the Liddells.

  We turned the corner and followed the scent of freshly brewed coffee into the same boardroom from my last hearing. About twenty people gathered at the far end around a long table containing a breakfast buffet and insulated carafes of coffee, tea, and hot water.

  I turned to Mrs. Campbell. “Are these all governors?”

  She inclined her head. “We hardly ever get all of them in the same room, but recent events…”

  Right. I gulped, wishing I’d brought a bottle of water. It was one thing battling Lady Liddell and a few sycophants, but it was me against a legion.

  Lady Liddell made a show of adding cream to a coffee cup and handing it to the archbishop. Father Neapolitan stood beside the pair, trying and failing to engage them in conversation. Today, he wore a tweed suit with a white shirt and nondescript tie. It had been years since I last saw The Matrix, but I’m sure Neo wore that outfit before taking the red pill.

  I clenched my teeth. The only person missing was Camden Liddell, who probably had real police business to do instead of framing teenaged girls and threatening them in their hospital beds. Every time I thought about how that man protected Elizabeth, I became more and more convinced that he was her real father.

  “Thank you all for coming at such short notice.” Lady Liddell crossed the room and sat at the head of the table with the archbishop taking the seat to her right. “The allegations facing Headmaster Burgh are very serious indeed and require thorough investigation before allowing him near any of the precious children within the academy.”

  The people around the buffet hurried to take their places closest to the head of the table. Father Neapolitan shouldered his way to Lady Liddell’s left and sat with his back straighter than a teacher’s pet.

  Mrs. Campbell placed a hand on my shoulder. “Take a seat, Lilah.”

  I trudged to the chair directly opposite the blonde harpy and sat with the deputy head on my left.

  Lady Liddell pressed her lips together in a Deloris Umbridge smile. All that was missing from the ensemble was the abundance of pink. “Before we question Mr. Burgh, I thought it best to speak with Miss Lilah Hancock, a young woman who he helped to bypass the recruitment process. Did you know he provided her with both a luxurious guest room within the academy and a bedroom within his private quarters?”

  Before I could speak up in his defense, Mrs. Campbell said, “Headmaster Burgh was taking advantage of a benefit offered to all members of staff. Your own daughter also bypassed the recruitment process, yes?”

  The archbishop patted Lady Liddell’s hand. “Shall we continue the subject of the meeting, chairwoman?”

  Lady Liddell cleared her throat. “Could you tell us in your own words your relationship with the headmaster?”

  Resentment seared through my veins. Why the hell should I be talking about my life to a room full of hostile strangers who weren’t even the police? I sucked in a deep, calming breath, reminding myself that this was for Mr. Burgh. I had to do everything possible to discredit that collagen-riddled hag.

  “Mr. Burgh is my mother’s father,” I said in a loud, clear voice, making eye contact with everyone, including Father Neapolitan. “I discovered this when Elizabeth—”

  “Thank you,” said Lady Liddell with a tight smile. “You have answered the question to the governors’ satisfaction.”

  “Elizabeth uncovered the information and told everyone,” I blurted. “After that, Mr. Burgh confirmed we were related.”

  The other woman’s lips tightened. “Quite. There was talk of impropriety between—”

  “You mean the stuff you made up?” I snapped.

  Red blotches appeared on Lady Liddell’s face. She pressed a hand on her chest, and spluttered with a fake attack of shock, looking like she was about to faint. “Why, I have never in my life!”

  My blood boiled. What did the stupid cow expect from holding a hearing? Did she think I would throw poor Mr. Burgh under the bus to keep my place at the academy?

  On my left, Mrs. Campbell made a hissing sound that hit me like an electric shock. Lady Liddell wanted me to fly into a temper, so she could expel me for bad behavior. After driving Mr. Burgh from the academy under such terrible allegations, she’d see to it that her parishioners drove us from Templar with pitchforks and flaming torches.

  Exhaling a long breath, I said in my best Gideon voice, “Please forgive the outburst. Recent events have unsettled my emotions. I’m also recovering from a terrible concussion brought on by being struck with a pistol.”

  All of the faces around the tables softened, save for Father Neapolitan, who fixed me with a glare fiery enough to send me to hell.

  Lady Liddell glanced around the tables and tightened her lips. It looked like Mrs. Campbell just foiled her plan to make me act like a madwoman. “Quite.” She cleared her throat. “You have returned from compassionate leave to address this hearing to help us with our inquiries?”

  Leaning back in my seat, I waited for every one of those fucker’s around the table to turn their gazes to me. “I went to London over the weekend to see my mum and ask her why she left Templar.”

  “Abigail Hancock née Burgh is the daughter of our former headmaster,” Lady Liddell said for nobody’s benefit, seeing as she’d already repeated the rumor in a newsletter that went out to everyone in the Church of Scotland.

  I nodded. “She told me it wasn’t true and—”

  “Victims of abuse often hide their shame,” Lady Liddell said.

  “And she was raped,” I said in a louder voice.

  A hush spread across the room, and all the color leached from Lady Liddell’s face. I turned to Father Neapolitan, whose face darkened to an unflattering shade of purple. The man flared his nostrils, breathing faster than a racehorse.

  “Thomas Neapolitan is my biological father.” I pointed at the man, making sure to look him full in the face, even when the disgust and loathing in his eyes made my stomach twist. “If you want to blame anyone for abusing my mother, look at him.”

  Father Neapolitan rose to his feet. “Filthy lies.”

  “I’ll call my mother now and get her to prove you wrong.” I picked up my smartphone and pressed the shortcut for Mother, my heart spasming with dread. This was such a huge, fucking risk. If Mother was in the wrong mood, she would say out of spite that my father was Mr. Burgh.

  Excited chatter filled the room, and everyone sounded like they were delighted to have taken time off work to witness these daytime theatrics.

  “Enough!” The archbishop raised both hands, making everyone turn silent. “I remember some talk of impropriety between Thomas and Abigail Burgh eighteen years ago. As far as I’m concerned, the matter of Miss Hancock’s parentage is closed.”

  My throat dried, and I glanced around the table. Most of the academy governors’ mouths gaped open, as though this was the biggest scandal since Queen Elizabeth I executed Mary, Queen of Scots. In a small town like Templar, it probably was.

  Lady Liddell pursed her lips. The archbishop ha
d just confirmed that I was possibly a Liddell. A Liddell who could lay claim to the fortune his wife tried so desperately to protect.

  I gulped. What did that mean for me, now? I pictured her offering me ten grand to bugger off back to Richley. I would shove the offer up her bag-of-flour ass, add half-a-pound of butter and set it on fire.

  My call went to voicemail, and I hung up. Of course, Mother would still be sleeping at this time of the morning. She’d probably spent Sunday and Monday drowning herself in gin.

  “After putting Miss Hancock through yet another ordeal, do you think you could permit her to return to her classes?” said Mrs. Campbell, her voice doused in venom.

  “Of course.” The archbishop offered me a tired smile. “Thank you for coming, Lilah. We will recess until ten o’clock.”

  I rose to my feet with my gaze fixed on Lady Liddell’s cold eyes. The look on her face said that I might have kept my place at Templar Academy, but what she planned next for me would be deadly.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  As far as victories went, that one was pretty bizarre. I walked out of the boardroom in a daze and wandered down the hallway in the opposite direction to my Business Studies class. The only reason I stopped was because I reached a fire door at the end. On my left stood another door that led to a stairwell, but I was in no mood for a class or a conversation.

  Pushing open the fire door, I stepped outside the building. A gust of cold air blew over my skin, rustling the my dry strands. I winced at the result of two days with no conditioner and made a promise to myself to try out a deep conditioning masque Gideon swore would work wonders on my hair.

  The gardens around the academy’s side were mostly gravel with evenly spaced paving stones that slipped underfoot. Frost-covered lavender shrubs lined the garden’s borders, with English primroses providing a pop of yellow.

  I walked over a gravel path that ran along the flowerbeds, enjoying the way my feet crunched over the tiny stones with every step. After rounding the corner, I rested my back against the wall and sighed. What I wouldn’t do right now for a few puffs of Heavenly Kush.