Inheritance

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Inheritance Page 22

by Thomas Wymark

In my mind I tried to retrace my journey from Elm Gables. I had looked at the clock as I’d left, and it had definitely been almost midday. I wondered whether that clock had been wrong. I worked back further.

  I went through breakfast, the kids going to school, Neil driving off to the bank.

  I had a definite time for speaking to Doctor Jones as his phone-in time was only a fifteen minute slot before he started surgery at 9am. I had spoken to him at 8:45am.

  Then I had showered. Tried to wash all the red paint and blood off my hands. Made an effort to look half human, and then come back downstairs to ring Colin Connell. It usually took me an hour to get ready. I may have taken a little longer this morning.

  I had checked the weather forecast on the TV, grabbed a coffee and then picked up the phone. I remember telling him that I would be half an hour. As I slammed the door on the way out I realised I had meant to take an umbrella just in case. So I had to come back in for that. His clock had been right.

  I pulled the car into a lay-by and sat back in the seat. I left the engine running to keep the warm air blowing gently on my feet. I turned the wipers off and let the rain cover the windscreen with circular psychedelic patterns.

  Where had I gone between leaving Colin’s house and pulling up at Mum and Dad’s? I had obviously driven a lot. The fuel-gauge was almost on empty. I had definitely used at least half a tank. I wasn’t sure exactly how many miles that represented but I guessed it must have been nearly 100 miles. The most I should have travelled was about 25 miles. Where the hell had I gone? Had I met anyone, or just driven? How could I not remember?

  A large splat of rain slammed against the car roof.

  It had been raining when I’d climbed into the car outside Colin’s, and it had still been raining when I’d pulled up at Mum and Dad’s.

  I remembered some of the journey. I hadn’t just zoned out and “woken up” in the driveway next to Dad’s car. I remembered thinking back to my childhood as I came into Banwell. Thinking how lucky I had been to grow up there — with the parents I had.

  I had been fully aware during that part of the journey.

  The front of my head started pounding, just around the scar. The concentration seemed to be confusing me rather than clarifying things. I shuddered as a frightening thought hit me. Colin had been very keen for me to have a drink at his house. I’d said no to the coffee, but he almost insisted I have something. Could he have put something in my drink? I did drink all of the water. Had it tasted funny? I couldn’t remember. I felt cold.

  I flicked the wipers on and they squeaked across the windscreen. I decided to stop thinking about what had happened in the missing time. I used to tell the kids in my class that if they couldn’t remember something, like a name or a date, they should think about something completely different. Invariably the thing they were trying to recall would come to them as soon as they stopped trying to recall it. I hoped that would work for me.

  I pulled back out onto the road and looked out for a petrol station.

  When I turned the car into our close I saw Margaret’s car parked against the pavement outside the front of our house. She was sitting in the driving seat, she looked like she was reading.

  I glanced at the dashboard clock. It was almost 3:30pm. Michael and Rose weren’t due home for another half an hour. My heart started beating faster again. Something had happened to Michael or Rose. Why else would Margaret come to see me herself? Unless it was about the Deputy Head position. Perhaps they had come to a decision. Both options put even more pressure on my heart-rate. The throbbing pain in my head kept time with it. I wondered how long she had been waiting for me.

  By the time I had driven the car onto the driveway, Margaret had climbed out of her car and started walking up the drive towards me. She held a hand up in front of her face, a small barrier to the rain.

  She smiled at me as I got out of the car. I smiled back.

  ‘Margaret?’ I said. ‘This is a surprise. Are Michael and Rose OK?’

  She smiled again but didn’t immediately say anything.

  ‘Margaret?’

  ‘Christine, they’re fine. Don’t worry. They haven’t had an accident.’

  She looked at the front door.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Let’s go inside. This weather is awful.’

  As we walked into the house the smell of paint hit me. I looked at Margaret but she didn’t seem to have noticed. She had taken her glasses off and was wiping the raindrops from the lenses. As we walked into the living-room the smell of the paint was so intense that I expected to see that the offensive words we had scrubbed off the outside of the house that morning had seeped through the wall to show as a mirror image on our living room wall.

  It hadn’t.

  The house felt cold. I asked Margaret if she wanted to take her coat off, but she shook her head.

  ‘I’m not staying long, Chris. Just a friendly visit to see how you’re doing. And to chat about a couple of things.’

  It was always so difficult to extract what Margaret really meant when she said things. Her tone was nearly always even. As a result, most people had no option but to take what she said at face value. But my mind was shooting possible meanings all over the place.

  ‘A couple of things?’ I said.

  ‘And to see how you are, Chris.’

  Well, I’ve just been to see a counsellor, just had offensive language spray-painted on my house and I just lost an hour and a half and over a hundred miles that I can’t remember at all.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Shall we have a coffee? You have time for that, don’t you?’

  She nodded and smiled.

  While the kettle hissed, I switched the heating on. I felt goosebumps all over my back, and my hair was damp from the rain.

  As I stirred the coffees I tried to calm myself down. I slowed the stirring to a more sedate speed and breathed out slowly.

  By the time I put the mugs on the coffee table I was pretty sure she wouldn’t spot the slight tremor in my hands.

  ‘How are you feeling, Christine? Are things going OK for you?’

  ‘Definitely on the mend,’ I said. ‘I saw the doctor not long ago, and spoke to him this morning in fact. I think he’s pleased with how things are going.’

  ‘And your head? Is it healing nicely?’

  I pushed my hand through my hair, pulling it back off my forehead.

  ‘The scars are getting less noticeable by the day,’ I said. ‘The one on the back of my head isn’t much more than a raised line now.’

  Margaret frowned as she looked at my forehead.

  ‘It’s still quite red around the edges isn’t it,’ she said. ‘It looks painful.’

  I dropped my hand and let my hair fall back over the scar.

  ‘It really is fine,’ I said. ‘I hardly even notice it anymore. I’ll be right as rain soon. I keep on at the doctor to let me come back to work.’

  ‘We all miss you, of course,’ Margaret said. She took a sip of coffee.

  I knew there was a “but” coming.

  ‘And the children miss you terribly. But you know us. We soldier on through. That’s why we’re such a good team, Chris. We all adapt, we are all there for each other.’

  Once again I couldn’t read whether Margaret was really saying something else. Face-value.

  ‘I can’t wait to come back,’ I said. I’m looking forward to seeing all the kids again. Putting all of this behind me. Onwards and upwards, you know?’

  She took another sip of coffee. It amazed me that she could drink it so hot. I hadn’t even touched mine yet.

  ‘I was thinking about when you come back,’ she said. ‘I was wondering what would be best for you, to make coming back as easy as possible.’

  I reached for my coffee. Too hot to drink but somehow, held in front of me, it felt like a barrier. Protection of sorts from what might be coming my way.

  ‘Oh it’s such a terrible shame that all of this has happened, Chris. A terrible shame. It alwa
ys amazes me how a single event can cause ripples to travel so far and so wide. It’s horrible that you were attacked. Awful. But it also has additional repercussions. Obviously it affects you personally, but also Neil and Rose. Michael. The school.’

  Why had she mentioned Michael separately?

  ‘The governors feel so sad for you too,’ she said. ‘They all think very highly of you, as you know.’

  I lifted the mug of hot coffee to my lips and blew gently across it.

  ‘It’s really unfortunate that this has all come at this time,’ she said.

  Unfortunate?

  ‘Just when we seemed to be moving forward with the Deputy Head position, gradually moving things into place.’

  Aha!

  ‘The governors were very keen to bring that to a conclusion at the end of February, have everything in place by the beginning of March. And then all this.’

  She waved her hand in front of her. I blew across my coffee again.

  ‘And now there’s another problem too.’

  I stopped blowing and put the mug down.

  ‘Another problem?’ I said.

  ‘Chris, I’m sorry — but Michael got into a fight today.’

  I sat up in my chair.

  ‘A fight? You said he was OK?’

  ‘He is OK, Chris. But he quite badly hurt the other boy — Harry Shaw.’

  ‘But Harry is Michael’s friend,’ I said. ‘He would never deliberately hurt him. It must have been an accident.’

  ‘Christine, the reason I came round personally is that this isn’t the first time. He’s been in trouble a fair bit over the past couple of weeks. This was just the most serious of them all.’

  I couldn’t imagine Michael fighting anyone. That wasn’t his nature at all. He didn’t even bully Rose, and she was his “annoying little sister”. If anything, he would protect people. Stand up for them.

  ‘Perhaps he was trying to break up a fight,’ I said. ‘Maybe he was trying to protect Harry.’

  ‘Michael started it, Chris. He was waiting for Harry in the playground and just launched an attack on him.’

  My head felt like it was filling with water. I couldn’t think clearly at all.

  ‘Is Harry OK?’ I said.

  ‘He had to go to hospital for a check over. His nose was bleeding and his eye had a lump under it. I haven’t heard back from the hospital or his parents yet. I’m sure he’ll be fine. But I’m not sure what we are going to do about Michael.’

  I felt a surge in my stomach. Adrenalin pushed its way through my body.

  ‘It’s unforgivable,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry, Margaret. He can’t go around fighting. I’m so sorry.’ I tried to sound calm, but I wanted to kill Michael.

  ‘I know it’s not like him, Chris. That was part of the reason I came round. Have you noticed any changes in him at home recently?’

  I squirmed in my chair. My cheeks felt hot.

  ‘He’s still too young for the “terrible teens” to be kicking in,’ she said. ‘How has he been here, at home?’

  I felt ashamed that the only thing I had noticed about him was that he had looked tired. It was horrible to hear from someone else what I should have been seeing for myself.

  ‘He’s been looking a bit tired,’ I said. It felt like a pathetic comment, but it was all I had.

  Margaret raised her eyebrows.

  ‘I know you’ll want to talk to him,’ she said. ‘I have spoken to him at school, reminded him that his mum is a teacher there, and that he needs to set a good example. I asked him to explain his behaviour but he seemed reluctant to talk to me. I didn’t want to push it because he’s your son. We all appreciate that you have gone through a terrible time. Perhaps if you and Neil speak to him, he might be more forthcoming.’

  ‘I’ll speak to him straight away, as soon as he gets home. Do you want me to keep him off school at all?’

  She didn’t answer immediately. I watched her lips squeeze tightly together.

  ‘I think a good talking to will do the trick,’ she said. ‘Obviously we’ll be keeping a close eye on him. And the sooner you’re back with us the better for us all.’

  ‘Of course,’ I said.

  ‘And you may want to consider a quick phone call to Harry’s parents, just to see how he is. I’ve brought their number for you.’

  ‘Of course,’ I said again.

  ‘The governors are seriously having another look at Matthew’s application,’ she said. ‘They have interviewed him again and seem more interested than before. He is a good candidate, Chris, and he’s been at the school for a good while. Longer than you.’

  She put her coffee cup on the table.

  I followed suit.

  ‘Margaret, when the Dep. Head proposal first came up, I had no interest in it whatsoever — you know that. But it was you who persuaded me that it would be a good idea. And after a lot of thought, I agreed. You know how much I can bring to the school, you know how dedicated I am. All this is just a blip. I’ll be back soon, I’ll talk to Michael tonight, sort it all out. I’ll give Harry’s parents a call. I’m pretty much at the end of all this now.’

  ‘Christine, I’m sure all of that is true. But the governors want stability. The school needs it. No decision has been made yet. They have already gone way beyond the time-frame they originally wanted. They are giving you lots of leeway. I’m just letting you know that they are under pressure too. Be thankful that they all know you. They understand your situation. But they have to think of the school too. For them, school-life goes on every day. The school has to be their first consideration. That’s why they are the governors.’

  ‘I understand,’ I said. ‘And I will be back as soon as I possibly can.’

  ‘I know, Chris.’ Margaret stood up. ‘And I can’t wait.’

  I walked Margaret to the door and waved goodbye as her car disappeared out of the close. My eyes glazed over. Rain splashed against my face. Cold, spiteful droplets. It brought me back into focus. Margaret’s car was long gone.

  I pushed the front door gently shut and listened to the latch locking home.

  Michael fighting; Matthew moving in on the governors; and me unable to account for an hour and a half of my day.

  I strode to the kitchen. The just-in-case bottle of wine was upright in the cupboard next to the clock. I pulled it out, slammed it on the work top and unscrewed the lid.

  25

 

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