‘I’ll be back soon,’ I say, heading out the door.
‘Okay, no worries.’ Chloe is cross-legged on the sofa, reading a psychology course book. She’s a clever girl and studies all hours. Not like a normal teenager. I’m sure she’ll get top grades.
I hurry onto the street and, realising it’s too wet to use the country lane, half walk, half jog the slightly longer road route.
When I finally reach the school, I’m only just on time. My heart pounds. There’s something eerie about the playground, silent in semi-darkness. For once the gates and main door are open, and I walk straight into the reception area.
It’s spotlessly clean, without any of the usual children’s drawings that decorate school walls. Almost as if kids are an inconvenience to the headmaster’s orderly vision.
I hover there, not sure what to do with myself. Then Mrs Dudley appears from the school office. She’s wearing an odd combination of smart trouser suit with very shiny black Mary Janes.
‘Ah. There you are, Miss Riley. We’ll have to chat here in reception – everything is locked up now.’
‘Don’t you have keys?’
She smiles as if this is a silly question, and shakes her head.
‘What about the school office?’ I ask.
‘We don’t allow parents in there.’
We take seats in the reception area – woolly chairs clearly meant for passing visitors, not parent meetings.
‘I’d like to discuss Tom,’ says Mrs Dudley.
‘Mrs Dudley.’ My voice is firm. ‘Icalled this meeting. And I have something specific to talk about. Tom’s medicine has been going missing. I found an empty bottle in his school bag, and—’
‘Medicine?’ says Mrs Dudley, sitting up very straight. ‘Are you saying Tom’s been taking medicine from school?’
‘No. Of course not.’What an odd question. ‘Tom took medicine from our box at home. I think he has been bringing it in for someone. He’s being intimidated.’
‘It sounds like you’ve taken two and two and made twenty, Miss Riley.’
‘I found an empty bottle in his school bag. It was full before.’
Mrs Dudley becomes very stern, benign smile vanishing. ‘Miss Riley, I think we’re all getting a little tired of these accusations. I don’t know what’s happening at home, but I can assure you this school is a very good establishment with well-behaved children. No one is being intimidated. If Tom is taking things from home and putting them in his school bag, I’d suggest you take a long, hard look at how you’re parenting him.’
I bristle. ‘I’m a good parent, Mrs Dudley.’
‘Well. I’m glad to hear it. Now, if you’ve finished—’
‘There’s something else, too,’ I say. ‘We got the school photos back yesterday. Tom was by Pauly Neilson. I noticed some marks on Pauly’s forearm. Similar to the marks Tom had.’
‘Miss Riley—’
‘ThemarksI talked to you about. The ones that looked like injection marks.’
‘We’ve already cleared that up. No one has even seen these marks.’ Mrs Dudley crosses her arms.
‘The drop-in nurse—’
‘And I’m amazed you could see anything so detailed in a school photo of thirty-one children.’
I shake my head. ‘It wasn’t overly clear, but—’
‘Then we mustn’t jump to far-fetched conclusions. Miss Riley, Tom is lucky to have a place here. Very lucky. A hundred other parents would be delighted. All we’re hearing from you are wild accusations.’
‘I’m not—’