Skeletal (9 page)

‘No I did not!’ I interrupted. I could feel the skin on my face heating up, the indignation made it harder to speak, and also made me want to cry. Was this whole thing hopeless?

I turned to look at Michelle, but she was glaring at me and so I turned back to Mr Fitzsimmons who was doing the same.

‘I reported that I saw Mr Bond and you in the English room last night,’ I said, my voice quiet. I looked down at the floor as the hopelessness of the situation swallowed me whole and drained my determination. ‘I told Mr Fitzsimmons that it looked like you were being raped.’

There was silence for a long time. Mr Fitzsimmons cleared his throat, but then didn’t follow up. My words echoed in my ears. A buzz started as the silence grew longer. Like the sound in your eardrums when loud music stops playing. I listened to the buzz and closed my eyes against the rest of it.

When I opened them again I saw that Mr Fitzsimmons was staring at the deskpad in front of him. I turned to Michelle and was astonished to see that she was crying. It was silent. The tears ran down her cheeks in a steady stream but she didn’t make a noise. Until she sniffed. Long. Loud. She swiped the back of her hand across her face, gathering the tears up with her fingers and flicking the moisture off.

‘That’s a vicious lie. I’ve never had sex with anyone.’

‘It wasn’t an accusation Michelle,’ I said as I turned fully towards her. ‘I just didn’t want to think that he would get away with it.’

‘Get away with what?’ she said and turned to face me. Equal. She was furious, and I felt my blood fizzle in fear.

‘I…’ but I couldn’t follow it up.

‘There’s nothing to get away with, Mr Fitzsimmons,’ Michelle said, turning her attention back to the principal. ‘There has never been
anything
of a sexual nature between me and Mr Bond. He’s a teacher for Christ’s sake,’ she said, and turned back to me. ‘He must be three times my age and there’s no way I would be stupid enough to meet up with an old man after school in an empty classroom. I don’t know
why
Daina is making this stuff up about me,’ she paused then, and rubbed her top lip with her forefinger.

She met Mr Fitzsimmons gaze again. ‘Actually I do know why. I had a run-in with Daina a few weeks ago. I suppose this is her way of getting back at me. But this isn’t true.’

She looked back at me, her eyes narrowed. ‘I’m sorry that I teased you Daina. But this is no way to get back at me. Mr Bond is a teacher; he could get in a lot of trouble over your made-up stories. I think you should apologise.’

Mr Fitzsimmons leant forward on his desk, his hands crossed; fingers intertwined. The relief was written large upon his face.

‘I think that’s a good idea, actually. I didn’t think it was true, but I have a duty to check Miss Carrasco, you understand. I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you or upset you in any way.’

Michelle nodded. A smile graciously accepting the apology.

‘I saw you, Michelle. I saw him. It’s not going to go away just because you wish it hadn’t happened. What if you’re pregnant?’

The smile dropped. Mr Fitzsimmons cleared his throat as if to speak again, but Michelle turned on me before he could open his mouth.

‘There wasn’t anything to see. It’s all made up in your dirty little mind.’ She looked at the principal again. ‘I would never engage in anything like that Mr Fitzsimmons. I’m a virgin, you can test that, can’t you? I’ve never, hmmm,
made love
with anyone and certainly not a teacher. I never would. I’m only fourteen years old, for goodness sake.’

I tried to protest again, but Mr Fitzsimmons leapt to his feet and waited while Michelle stood, then took her elbow to escort her out of the office, apologising all the way.

I sat frozen. The blood that had filled my face red pulsed in time with my heartbeat. My very fast heartbeat. I could see white lines in the same beat across my vision. A headache pulsed in my temples. I felt like a giant hand was squeezing my head in time. Thump, pump, bump. I felt sick.

‘I think it’s best that we contact your parents Miss Harrow. They’ll need to know about this. We’ll need them to come in and talk about appropriate disciplinary action.’

I gripped the arms of the chair tight; tighter. ‘There’s only my mother. She’ll be at work right now.’

‘We’ll call her on all numbers we have available until we reach her. I don’t think it’s appropriate you go into class at the moment. It won’t be fair to Miss Carrasco if you turn up in her class before we know how we’re going to discipline you. There’s a seat in the corridor where you can wait.’

‘I really don’t think you’ll be able to get hold of my mother until…’

‘That’s not your concern at the moment, Miss Harrow. Please go outside and wait and let us worry about contacting your mother.’

He opened the door to shuffle me out, and crossed the corridor to Pearson’s office with purposeful strides.

She would love this.

***

Ms Pearson 2004

Patty watched Daina sitting alone, waiting. She’d tried all of the numbers on file for her mother: there was one. Even repeated attempts. Patty was nothing if not thorough. But there was no answer. She didn’t expect one. Fitz may sit in his office with his mind in the past and his head in the clouds, but anyone with a stick of sense could see that this girl was basically rudderless. Her mother was a wash-out. Patty would guess drink, but nowadays it could just as easily be P. Or H. That may be a stretch in the rest of New Zealand, but Christchurch and Greymouth retained their die-hard fans.

Patty had had a taste of it herself once. After her father died, her mother had started a new career drinking. Or new to Patty. Turned out it it was an interrupted career of her mother’s. Interrupted by her marriage. Interrupted by Patty.

Her mother had spelt it out for her after the will was read and locked in. Patty had given her a lift home. She’d tried to be polite and not wince at her mother’s breath, and had succeeded a bit. Waiting for a red light at the corner of Bealey and Papanui her mother had started an unexpected conversation by saying, ‘I never wanted kids.’

Patty had just stared at the lights. She was a careful driver, but the announcement also hadn’t been unexpected. Children grow up knowing these things.

‘Your father wanted you. He talked me into it.’

The light had changed and Patty had turned into Papanui Road. It was a straight run through from there. The main road meant that the traffic flowed in stops and starts, but nothing to require much attention.

‘So since he’s dead now, I think that this should be the end of it.’

Patty had frowned. What had she missed? ‘The end of what?’

‘Of us. Of me being your mother. I think we should just end it here.’

She’d turned to look at her mother. Her frown had deepened. ‘End what here?’

Her mother had sighed deeply. An exhalation fraught with gin and coffee and mouldering foodstuffs. ‘I won’t contact you. You don’t contact me.’

Patty was a good girl. She’d been raised to obey her elders. She’d been raised to obey her betters. She had dropped her mother off at the retirement village. She’d driven herself home. She’d cried that night. She sometimes still cried. There was no clear reason why.

Daina shifted her weight, and Patty wondered how long she would cry herself to sleep if her mother cut her off. The amount of running about and covering she must already have done for her.

Fitz stuck his head around the side of the door. ‘Any luck yet? I don’t want her sitting there all day.’

And yet that’s what you told her to do, she didn’t say. ‘I haven’t been able to reach her mother yet. I’ll keep trying. What is it in relation to? Is it the bullying?’ She may have been pushing her luck, but if you don’t try you can’t succeed.

‘Some nonsense about Mr Bond. I don’t know. Ridiculous. Make sure you contact her by the time I get back.’

Fitz went down to the staffroom to take his lunch. He thought it kept him in touch with the teachers, so they knew he was on their side. Instead it just made it easier to roster outside duties.

Patty walked outside, and motioned Daina over. ‘I haven’t been able to get hold of your mother yet. Do you want to come in the office for a minute?’

The set look on her face let Patty know that this request was far from welcome, but she followed anyway.

‘Mr Fitzsimmons was just telling me that you were making a report about Mr Bond, is that right?’

Daina just stared back at her. Silent.

‘Has he touched you inappropriately?’

A small crease flashed across Daina’s brow, and then was gone.

Patty sighed, and smoothed her hair back. Everything was still in place. Just as it should be. It would never do to let her personal standards drop. Appearances were everything in her job. If she didn’t look efficient, then pretty soon they’d bring in some smart software and she wouldn’t be needed for anything at all. ‘If Mr Bond has been inappropriate with you in any way, then I think you should tell me right now. If I call your mother and let Mr Fitzsimmons decide on a discipline then this is the last time that anyone will take a complaint from you seriously.’

Daina continued to stare at her. The deep study made Patty feel uncomfortable, but she met Daina’s gaze. Inscrutable. That had been the one-word description on her standard four-report card. Inscrutable at ten years old. Let her look.

‘It wasn’t me. It was with Michelle, and she won’t back up the complaint.’

‘How do you know he did something wrong?’

‘I saw him.’

Patty raised her eyebrows. And stared. Two could play the silent game.

‘I saw him rape her.’

‘But she says he didn’t?’

Daina nodded.

And this was how cycles continued. The complainant wasn’t believed, the molester was vindicated, the sexual assaults continued. A circle of pain and humiliation. But there wasn’t any way to get off the merry-go-round once it started. No one could force Michelle to complain if she didn’t want to.

‘Your mother isn’t answering the phone.’

Daina nodded.

‘I have a number for your father on file.’

Daina looked startled, and Patty felt a grim satisfaction that she’d managed to get one over on her at last. ‘Can I call him, or should I keep trying your mother?’

Daina shook her head from side to side. The slow movement was graceful. The girl had poise.

‘Your mother’s not going to come, and Mr Fitzsimmons isn’t going to let you sit out there all day.’

Daina nodded. And then shrugged. ‘Try him then. Even if you get an answer there he’s not going to come.’

‘You can go back out to the hall and wait.’

Daina left the office and sat down in the hallway again. She looked straight ahead, her hands folded softly in her lap.

Two weeks after Mr Bond had started at the school he’d backed Patty up against the file cabinets in the back room. He’d taken her nipple between his fingers and pinched, hard, scrutinising her face the whole time for a reaction.

It was hard to stop the cycle from happening if people wouldn’t lay a complaint. But that wasn’t Patty’s problem. Right now she just had to contact a parent. She picked the phone up again and dialled.

***

Mr Harrow 2004

Graham slammed his arm out to stop his son flying forward as he also slammed on the brakes. It thumped heavily on the sides of the car seat and he shouted, ‘Shit!’ while he tried to manoeuvre the car to a stop.

Billy burst into tears, and Graham swore again. Under his breath this time. He didn’t need a lecture from Emily when Billy started running around the home shouting ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ He was already getting cold stares because of a mishap with the grocery run. It was guaranteed to drop a few degrees if she found out he’d had to go to Daina’s school to sort her out. Icicles would form if he had to bring Daina home with him.

Hard to sleep with an icicle, though god knows he’d still try at this point.

‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,’ Judy shouted from the backseat.

‘What hon?’

‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.’

Graham turned around to see that Judy had gotten free of her seat, and her belts, and was now trying to throw her leg over his seat back. ‘No honey. Get back down. Sit down for Daddy.’

‘Daddy! Daddy!’ she responded, and tumbled forward, her leg caught on the elastic of the seat cover, her face striking the gear stick.

There was a moment where she went silent. She blinked. Once, twice. A line of red shone across her forehead where she’d hit. She blinked again. Then her face screwed up and tears sheeted down her cheeks.

‘Daddy!’ she wailed. ‘Daddy!’

His arm was throbbing where he’d struck Billy’s seat. He tried to encircle her small rigid frame with it, but she was at too awkward an angle for him to manage.

‘Shit!’ Billy shouted, and then burst into companionable tears. ‘Shit!’

‘Daddy! Daddy!’

Graham pulled the car to the side of the road, and looked with longing at the dead neon sign of the bar opposite.