Dear Thing (28 page)

‘And why didn’t you mention your concerns to Ernest Doughty, Max’s head of house? We have a very efficient reporting procedure here.’

‘Max asked me not to.’

Veronica made a little distressed sound.

‘I know,’ said Claire. ‘But I thought if he could be allowed
to study music, if he could grow his confidence, it might … help.’

‘Claire, let me get this straight. You made up your own mind about what was best for a pupil, which is using your professional judgement, obviously, which I respect, but it happened to clash with what his parents wanted—’

‘His tutor did agree with me that he’d be able to handle the extra work.’

‘—and then took it on yourself to attack his parents’ love for him when they disagreed with you.’

Veronica’s voice had lost its kindness. Claire looked down at the maze again. ‘Yes.’

‘Many of our parents have busy lives. That doesn’t mean they love their children any less; in fact, they have very close family relationships. It’s an insult to all of our parents to refer to their sending their children to school here as “shoving them off”.’

‘I know that. But I wasn’t talking about all of the parents. I was talking about Max’s parents.’

The school was never silent, but it was now. All the children had gone and most of the staff, too.

Veronica sighed. ‘I know you’ve had a very difficult year,’ she said. ‘A difficult few years. And though you’ve had some good news lately, there must be some emotional adjustments taking place.’

‘I’ve wanted a child so badly,’ said Claire to her lap. ‘I can’t understand how someone can have a child and not love it with everything they’ve got.’ A tear hit her skirt. No, no crying. She tried to swallow it back.

‘I have so much sympathy for you, Claire. And of course you can’t magically leave your personal feelings behind when you step into school. We respect your teaching here at St
Dominick’s, but sadly, if we’re being honest, it’s not the first time your personal situation has impacted on your professional behaviour.’

‘It hasn’t—’

‘There have been medical absences, of course, and you’re due those. But students have mentioned to me that you’ve seemed … distracted. And there’s a noticeable effect in the staff room, too. I’m very sorry to have to mention it.’

‘I’ve tried very hard not to—’

‘Yes, of course.’

But not hard enough.

Veronica handed her the box of tissues from her desk. Claire took one and blew her nose. She didn’t see a bin, so she held the wet tissue in her hand.

‘The Gore-Thomases will insist that something is done,’ Veronica said again. ‘What do you suggest that we do?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I’m thinking that this might be a blessing in disguise of a sort, for you.’

‘Sorry?’

‘You were planning to take maternity leave after Christmas anyway. Perhaps we can bring it forward. Max’s parents will see that something is being done, and you can spend the time getting ready for your child. It’s a useful compromise.’

‘But all my lessons! And I’m in charge of the Michaelmas concert.’

‘We’ll be able to take care of it. You should take some time for
you
.’

‘And Max was going to—’ She went silent. She was unlikely to be allowed to work with Max for the foreseeable future. Another thing she had messed up.

‘It’s not the only option, of course,’ said Veronica. ‘But it
might be the easiest one. Why don’t you take the weekend to think about it and we’ll have a meeting first thing Monday morning.’

‘I’ve got A-level in period one.’

‘We’ll cover it.’ Veronica stood. ‘And Claire, this leave might be an even better thing if the governors see that you’ve volunteered to take it. They might see it as your appreciating the gravity of your actions. Our parents are one hundred per cent the school’s greatest asset. We would not have a school without parents choosing to send their children here.’

For all of the headmistress’s friendly, concerned tone, it was a warning. Claire didn’t want to take another tissue, but she had to.

‘Are you all right to drive home?’ Veronica asked. ‘Would you like to ring your husband to come and get you?’

‘I …’ She wiped her eyes. She thought of how Ben’s phone had been switched off when she’d tried to ring earlier. ‘No. No. I’m fine by myself. I’ll think about your suggestion.’

‘Lovely.’

When Ben got home she was sitting in the darkened living room under a knitted throw, staring at
Wife Swap
. ‘What on earth are you watching?’ he said, standing in the doorway of the room.

‘Where have you been? You had your phone off.’

‘I was playing Monopoly with Romily and Posie. Is there anything to eat?’

Claire rested her chin on her knees. ‘You turned off your phone to play Monopoly?’

He sighed. ‘Let’s not, Claire. I didn’t mean to.’

‘What if I needed to talk with you?’

‘You had parents’ evening. Besides, you could always have rung Romily if it was an emergency.’

‘Do you not see how it might feel a little bit wrong for me to ring Romily to talk to my husband?’

‘Okay. I’m sorry.’ He began to move off to the kitchen.

‘I might get sacked,’ she said.

Ben stopped. ‘Pardon?’

‘I’ve … I said something foolish.’

‘I don’t understand. Why would St Dom’s sack you? They love you.’

‘I yelled at Max’s parents.’

‘Who’s Max?’ He was still standing up, but he put his hand on the back of the sofa. His face was lit up from the television.

‘I told you about Max – the boy who’s such a good guitarist? The one who I wanted to give a recital?’

‘Why did you yell at his parents?’

She started at the beginning, with what Max had told her about his father and stepmother, his music and its yearning for love. The letter she’d written asking if he could study music, the recital, all the lunchtimes and break-times he’d spent with her. And then the conversation she’d overheard in the loo, the Gore-Thomases, that stylish, trim baby bump. How she’d lost control and said exactly what she was feeling.

‘Oh, Claire,’ he said.

She’d been about to mention the surge of power she’d felt – how exhilarating it had been in those few moments freed from the rules of playing nice. Instead, she said, ‘But what I said was true, Ben. They’re lousy parents. They don’t really care about Max. If they did, they’d take the time to get to know him.’

‘It sounds awful. But … it’s not like you.’

‘It was how I really feel.’ But Ben was right; she didn’t do these things. It made her stomach sick to think about it. ‘Veronica said she doesn’t think I’ve been doing a very good job teaching. She says that I’ve been letting my personal life affect how I am in the classroom. It’s ridiculous.’

‘Well, it would be surprising if it didn’t affect your teaching. It’s been a lot to get through.’

‘Has it affected the way you’ve done your job?’

‘I’m sure it has. I haven’t been one hundred per cent, not lately. Especially since Romily had her accident. Listen, Claire, this is okay. It’s got it all out in the open, anyway. And St Dominick’s know what an asset you are to their school. It’ll be fine.’

He put his arms around her and kissed the side of her forehead.

‘Veronica says I should take my maternity leave early. She says I should start it right away. To get me out of the way, stop the Gore-Thomases baying for my blood. Veronica didn’t mention that the father is an MP, but she must have been thinking about it.’

‘It’s not a bad idea, you know. You’ll have some time to yourself.’

‘I’ve just had lots of time to myself. Too much time to myself. I was going crazy over the summer holidays.’

He stroked her hair. ‘It’s going to be all right, Claire. This is because of the pressure you’ve been under. Take some time, get everything ready for the baby, and then once it’s here, everything will be perfect. The last thing you’ll want to do then is go back to school. You’ll wonder why you thought it was so important. You’ll be laughing about all of this, you’ll see.’

‘You think I’ll be laughing about losing my job?’

‘You were planning to leave anyway.’

‘But not like this.’

‘Claire,’ said Ben, dropping his arms from her, ‘what do you want me to say? I’m trying to make the best of this.’

‘I don’t want you to make the best of it.’

‘Do you want me to agree that you made an awful mistake, then?’

Claire stood up. ‘I just want you to be on my side.’

‘I
am
on your side. I want what’s best for you. I think you’re not yourself lately, and you end up saying things and doing things that you don’t really mean. Anybody would.’

Claire buried her face in her hands. ‘I’m not anybody,’ she said, her voice louder in her head because she was speaking to her hands. ‘I’m me. I meant to say those things. And I want you to fight for me. I want you not to think that I’m irrational, or not coping, or out of control.’

‘I don’t. I don’t think any of that.’ He stroked her back.

But I do
, she thought.

WHEN CLAIRE OPENED
the door on Tuesday, Romily was standing there balancing an umbrella and a cardboard box, which rested on her stomach.

‘I heard what happened,’ she said, with half an apologetic smile. ‘I’ve taken the morning off. Want company?’

She didn’t, but she let Romily in anyway. She was too shell-shocked with the fact that it was a Tuesday in the middle of term and she hadn’t had to get up and get dressed for work. She was in leggings and one of Ben’s old T-shirts, her decorating clothes, although there wasn’t much left to decorate.

Romily had been letting her hair grow and the ends were wet. She handed the box to Claire and leaned down to untie her boots, grunting with the effort of getting round her belly.

‘Ben told you,’ Claire said.

‘He told me, and I think it’s totally ridiculous,’ said Romily. ‘How can they make you take leave just for saying what anybody with any common sense would think anyway?’ She straightened up, putting her hand in the small of her back. ‘These people should be falling down on their knees to thank
you for taking the trouble to raise their kids properly when they can’t be bothered.’

‘You think I was right to say what I did?’

‘I’m all for telling a few home truths every now and then at work. Stir it up, cause some controversy. It makes things interesting.’

This was so different from just about everyone else’s attitude that Claire couldn’t help but stare at Romily.

‘Then again,’ Romily said, ‘what do I know? I work alone in a room full of dead bugs.’

‘I never thought I’d say this, but I can see the appeal of a job like that right now. Cup of tea?’ They went into the kitchen, where Claire had not yet washed up from breakfast. ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone today,’ she said, as if she didn’t do the washing-up first thing every morning whether she had guests or not.

Romily didn’t seem to notice, and she realized that even if Romily did notice, she, out of nearly everyone Claire knew, was the most likely not to care.

As infuriatingly casual as Romily could be, as careless on sand dunes and as slapdash in matters of diet and tidiness, she did have one very appealing quality right now. She wouldn’t judge Claire.

It must be so easy for Ben to be with her
, she thought, and then she tried to crowd that thought out by bustling around with the kettle and the teapot.

‘I hear Thing is fine,’ she said. ‘I’ve been getting updates practically every day from Ben.’

This was meant as a dig; it seemed that since Friday, when her brain had given her mouth permission to say what it wanted, she hadn’t been able to help herself. It was as if some control switch had been turned off. Except unlike Friday, the
barbed truths that escaped her didn’t give her any feeling of power or freedom. They just made her tired.

Romily didn’t seem to notice this, either. ‘Thing is a kicker. I think you have a lot of football games and/or dance recitals in your future.’ She shifted in her chair, trying to get comfortable. ‘I wanted to check your schedule. One of the ladies at school has got me booked into an NCT class at the beginning of December and I thought you’d like to come.’

‘My schedule is wide-open now. As you know.’

‘How long have you got to stay off?’

‘The governors accepted my proposal to take maternity leave effective immediately. Apparently they’d lined up a cover teacher over the weekend. Before all this happened I’d thought I’d go back part-time for the last few weeks of term in the summer, and then not come back in the autumn, but now I’m thinking I might have to resign first and not come back at all.’

‘It might have all blown over by Easter.’

‘Maybe. But I doubt it. The management were … I wasn’t made to feel very welcome yesterday.’ Even Veronica, who had been reasonably supportive of her on Friday evening, had had a grim expression as she accepted what was tantamount to Claire’s resignation. She’d had more communications from the Gore-Thomases over the weekend, Claire supposed. It was surprising they found so much time to complain between all the dinner parties.

‘What did they do, jeer at you when you walked in?’

‘No, they were all polite, but—’

‘But they gave you a big box to pack up all your stuff, I bet.’

‘Two small ones. I had to carry my aspidistra separately.’

Romily caught her eye. Incredibly, the two of them began to laugh.

‘It’s not funny,’ Claire said. ‘It’s horrible.’

‘Some things can be funny and horrible at the same time. Look in the box that I brought you, for example.’

Claire had put it on the table while she made the tea. Now, she opened up the flaps and gazed inside. The aroma of burnt chocolate greeted her.

‘I made you some cupcakes,’ Romily said. ‘At least, I tried to make you some cupcakes. It went a bit wrong.’

Claire lifted out the plate. On it were nine misshapen blackish-brown lumps in pink cupcake papers. Each one had a half-melted marshmallow on the top of it.

‘They’re meant to be chocolate. The corner shop didn’t have icing sugar so I tried to put the marshmallows on there while they were warm, but then they didn’t do anything so I put them back in the oven to melt but that didn’t really work either.’