Wicked! (119 page)

Feeling even more in need of a hair of the dog, Hengist edged towards the whisky decanter, then, dropping a St Andrews Bay Hotel bath cap on the big oak table in front of Alex:

‘I’ve brought you a present. I know how you like transparency.’

Alex didn’t smile.

‘You’d better sit down. Something very serious has occurred.’

Not Sally? Hengist felt a lurch of terror, but Painswick wouldn’t have been looking so cheerful.

‘“Lay on, Macduff,”’ he said lightly.

‘I’d like you to explain this.’ Alex chucked an exam script down on the table. ‘This was handed in as Paris Alvaston’s second history paper.’

Hengist picked it up and went cold to his bones. His heart stopped, then began to crash out of control. ‘So what?’

‘That is not Paris’s writing. Only four people knew the combination to the safe: the exam officer, Ian Cartwright – who as Paris’s foster father was not a disinterested party – Miss Painswick and yourself.’

‘Course it’s not Cartwright. I can’t imagine Painswick achieving an A star either.’

‘We’ve checked with a graphologist’ – although he’d have recognized anywhere that arrogant, flamboyant scrawl seen so often on praise postcards – ‘it was your writing, headmaster.’

There was a crash of cut glass on glass as Hengist poured himself a large whisky. For Paris’s sake, he mustn’t give in without a fight and prepare a defence, which of course was non-existent.

In a flash, he realized he would lose his school, Shadow Education and Fleetley, and Paris would lose his A star. It might have been better if Sally had died. She was so straight and true, the disgrace that would submerge him would kill her anyway.

It was a few moments before he realized Alex was saying, ‘I suppose you couldn’t bear your little guinea pig to fail.’

Then he backed away as Hengist turned on him, like a raging lion:

‘It was your bloody fault. If you hadn’t shopped Theo in the middle of GCSEs, Paris would never have screwed up. He was knocked sideways by Theo leaving.’

Hearing a thud, they both jumped.

‘We’re busy,’ called out Alex.

The door flew open and in bounded Elaine, hurling herself on her master with joyful squeaks, then racing round the room knocking over a side table, a waste-paper basket and a vase of scarlet dahlias with her thwacking tail, before jumping on the window seat to indulge in some scrabbling running on the spot.

‘Get that beast out of here,’ screamed Alex. In no way could he more have asserted his new ascendancy.

Elaine was followed by Sally. Devastated by the Oriana saga, she had been looking tired and drained for some time. Now, with highlighted, newly washed hair softening her sweet face and a pale blue cashmere jersey caressing her breasts, she looked utterly ravishing.

‘Darling, when did you get back? How lovely. The Bishop’s caught up in traffic, but he’ll be here in half an hour.’ Time for sex, her eyes smiled. ‘And some prospective parents have turned up.’ Then, noticing a muscle bounding in Hengist’s jaw and Alex’s face longer than a tomb stone: ‘What on earth’s going on?’

‘I regret our Senior Team Leader has been caught cheating,’ said Alex heavily.

In the distance, Hengist could see spirals of mist, the ghost of his career, curling up from Badger’s Retreat. ‘“O! the fierce wretchedness that glory brings,”’ he said bleakly.

‘Hengist wouldn’t cheat,’ cried Sally in outrage. ‘He’s the most honourable man.’

Hengist turned back, stroking Elaine, who, wagging her tail gently and joyfully, was gazing up from the ripped window seat.

‘I’m afraid it’s true.’ He tried to meet Sally’s eyes. ‘Paris found out Theo’d been arrested and made such a cock-up of his paper, I wrote it instead.’

‘Oh, Hengist,’ Sally clung on to the back of the sofa, ‘how could you? Poor Paris could have retaken it! He’ll be mortified, the press will crucify him after all the crowing about A stars.’

‘Paris Alvaston, in fact, suspected foul play,’ intoned Alex. ‘Joan Johnson overheard him saying he couldn’t possibly have got an A star, as he’d trashed his second history paper.’

Loathing herself, Sally turned to Alex: ‘Does this have to get out?’

‘My duty is to the other students,’ said Alex primly, ‘and I must immediately inform the chair of governors.’

There goes politics and Fleetley, thought Hengist. His heart was thumping relentlessly, his knees shuddering together.

‘As I’m not prepared to be an accessory to a crime’ – Alex cracked his knuckles – ‘I have also alerted the police.’

‘Oh dear,’ sighed Hengist, draining his whisky, ‘such a bad effect on recruitment. To have one master arrested looks like misfortune, but two, definitely carelessness.’

‘Don’t be so bloody flippant,’ yelled Sally.

Elaine vanished under the sofa.

‘Theo’s was a lapse, motivated by lust,’ said Alex sanctimoniously. ‘This is a far greater crime. Who knows how many papers Hengist tampered with? Our entire year’s GCSE marks could be declared null and void. I’m sure Fleetley will appeal.’

A smell of moussaka was drifting from the kitchens. In two neighbouring practice rooms, pupils could be heard hammering out pieces for the Queen’s visit.

Alex sat back in Hengist’s chair. Perceptibly, he was shrugging on the mantle of power. I hope he gets it better cut than his suits, thought Hengist irrationally.

As Sally slumped on the sofa, he could see the line of her suspender belt through her grey skirt and that she was wearing sheer black stockings and high heels.

‘It’s a sad way to end your career, Hengist, but I have to think of Bagley,’ sighed Alex. Then, seeing a Panda car emerging from the Memorial Arch: ‘Here come the police.’

As he opened the door, Miss Painswick nearly fell into the room.

‘The new parents will be old parents if they’re kept waiting much longer,’ she said tartly, ‘and the Bishop’s arrived.’

Alex smoothed his beard. ‘I will entertain his lordship.’

‘Mrs Cox has made celeriac purée,’ said Sally in a high voice, ‘the Bishop liked it so much last time.’ Turning to Alex, she stammered, ‘Hengist only did it for Paris’s sake.’

‘No, I didn’t, I did it for myself, said Hengist. ‘I’d invested so much in Paris, I couldn’t bear him to fail.’

‘You have brought independent schools and the entire exam system into disrepute,’ said Alex, no longer feeling the need to conceal the extent of his loathing. ‘You could get five years.’

What a dreadful combination, thought Hengist, Alex and ruin staring one in the face.

After lunch, in a frenzy of righteousness, Alex rang his chair of governors, not only to tell him about the cheating, but that Hengist had been knocking off a member of the governing body.

‘Good God, not the Bishop of Larkminster?’ said Jupiter in alarm.

‘No, and a parent too, I’m talking about Ruth Walton.’

Jupiter said, ‘Good God,’ a second time. He’d always fancied Mrs Walton. One of his favourite sayings was: ‘That man’s the true conservative Who lops the moulder’d branch away.’ There was no way Hengist was going to get Education now.

Putting down the telephone, Jupiter was about to dial Fleetley, then, remembering Lord Hawkley would be still at the Headmasters’ Conference, he called the St Andrews Bay Hotel.

123

Hengist was arrested, taken down to the station for questioning and kept overnight. Dora, dying to find out what was going on, in overalls, wig and the guise of smartening up the general office for the Queen’s visit, was so shocked as she assimilated the terrible truth that she managed to paint Miss Painswick’s coat, as well as an entire wall, vicarage green.

Sally retreated to Head House, sat on the bed in which she’d been looking forward to Hengist making love to her, and cried. She’d never dumped on others. She’d been too busy listening to other people’s problems and, unlike the clubbable Hengist, had always kept her distance. So she was now intensely alone.

What would happen to them? Hengist would never get another job in teaching. Nor would the New Reform Party look at him and – apart from the terrible disgrace – what would they live on? They had always spent a fortune on entertaining, on pictures, books and the garden, but never bothered to buy a house or save any money. When he had gone abroad on school or political business, Hengist had invariably picked up the bill. And how would such a free spirit ever survive in prison?

Randal Stancombe, who loved hospital cases, decided as night fell to call on Sally. The humiliating amount of coverage over Rupert getting his GCSE, abetted by Hengist and Janna, had increased his detestation of all three. He’d zapped Janna by moving the bulldozers in on Larks; now he was overjoyed to learn, from a very over-excited Poppet Bruce, of Hengist’s arrest.

‘How’s Sally?’

‘In shock. I took round some organic hot cross buns and offered her counselling, but she insisted on being on her own. I’m sure she’s hurting.’

Randal had always fancied Sally. What sweet revenge to take her off Hengist. Champagne might be too celebratory a gesture, so he settled for a huge bunch of bronze chrysanths.

He didn’t tell Anthea of his plan, even though she’d been delighted by the turn of events. Sally and Hengist had always shown their preference for Anthea’s late husband, Sir Raymond, and constantly displayed favouritism towards Dicky and particularly Dora. Anthea didn’t feel Sally deserved any sympathy, so Randal decided to make a mission of mercy on his own.

Showering in his penthouse at Cavendish Plaza, he drenched himself and the blue spotted handkerchief with which he had so often wiped away ladies’ tears in lavender water rather than Lynx. Lynx would come later. If there were people with Sally, he’d just leave the flowers with a caring message: ‘Thinking of you, Randal’, which would soften her up for a later pounce.

Nice property, Head House, thought Randal as he pressed the doorbell. How long would Alex let her stay on?

Sally had clearly been crying a great deal; her face was blotchy and swollen, bloodshot veins intensifying the blue of her eyes. Upset by her mistress’s tears, Elaine rushed to the door hoping Randal might be Hengist to make her better.

At first Sally didn’t recognize Stancombe. With his mahogany tan and huge circular shield of bronze chrysanthemums, he resembled a Zulu warrior.

‘I only popped in, Sal, to offer my condolences,’ and he was over the threshold.

He could tell she was in a state. She was shuddering uncontrollably, the fire had not been lit, none of the sidelights had been turned on and she had obviously been trying to persuade that bloody dog to eat. An untouched bowl of chicken curled and dried on the carpet.

‘You shouldn’t be on your own.’

‘It’s awfully kind, but I’m better that way. Rupert thinks Hengist will be bailed first thing tomorrow, unless he comes up before Anthea Belvedon. Oh, I’m sorry, Randal, it’s Rupert’s way of joking.’

‘I know,’ said Randal bleakly, ‘only too well.’

Sally started frantically plumping cushions. ‘I don’t mind for me, but Hengist was so excited about the future. He would never have touched Paris’s paper if Paris hadn’t been so devastated by Theo’s arrest. Hengist wasn’t there to reassure him and came back to find Paris had put in a completely dud paper, just signed his name and a few incomprehensible sentences. So Hengist answered the paper for him.’

‘No wonder Paris got an A star,’ said Randal coldly. ‘I don’t approve of cheating, Sally.’

‘Neither do I, but Hengist has lost everything.’ She started to cry. ‘Please go.’

‘I’m not leaving you like this.’

Randal had changed his hair, Sally noticed mindlessly, it was shorter and gelled upwards like an oiled, black pincushion. Turned upside down, he could be used to spike up the leaves littering the lawns outside. He was now telling her she was a fine woman.

‘Look at that dog, Sal, asleep on its back, taking up nine-tenths of the settee, leaving you no space. Hengist is the same, taking up nine-tenths of your life. You’ve devoted yourself to a taker who wasn’t worth it.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Hengist broke my heart.’

‘Your heart?’ Sally stopped plumping a silver wedding cushion in which the embroidered initials H and S had been entwined.

‘I cared very deeply for Ruth, then discovered she and Hengist were having a relationship.’

‘Ruth’s a great friend of both of us!’

‘Hengist is a persuasive guy. He also had a relationship with Janna Curtis. Sorry to be brutal, Sal, but you’re too straight and sincere not to know the truth.’

Sally gazed at him bewildered. ‘But Janna’s such a dear.’

‘Stands to reason.’ Randal paced the room turning on radiators. ‘If ladies are sweet to you, you’ll invite them to your posh dos and they’ll have a chance to pop upstairs for a quickie with Hengist.’

‘Don’t be revolting. How dare you? Hengist is such a super chap and so kind, mothers, pupils, schoolmistresses are always falling in love with him.’

Stancombe produced a trump card. ‘Here’s a love letter he wrote Ruth and a picture of them in Paris. She left it under the lining paper in my penthouse apartment.’