Page 2 of Strictly Friends
‘I don’t think you realise quite how serious this is, MrsLamont,’ he snapped, before launching into an extended lecture on the importance of truthfulness in children and the risks involved in turning a blind eye to Jake’s lively imagination.
Ruby sighed inwardly and mentally reactivated the mute button.Why must everything be so bloody difficult?MrHinton’s bristling outrage at her audacity in talking back to him was nothing new. She’d lost count of the times when simply being five feet and eleven and a half inches tall provoked someone – usually a man – to react like a pack leader whose status was under threat. No matter how calmly Ruby spoke, she was still labelled as intimidating. But then, as Griffin had pointed out, it wasn’t her fault – or her problem – if some people felt apprehensive about engaging with a tall, athletic Black woman with wide shoulders, strong thighs, and abs you could bounce tennis balls off. Although, he’d added less charitably, her gobby mouth allied with all the above could also explain why some people felt somewhat unnerved until they got to know her.
None of which, Ruby mused, was any comfort in dealing with the irate teacher who, unfortunately, held her son’s fate in his hands. After a few moments of watching MrHinton’s lips articulating words she refused to hear, Ruby absently scanned the wood-panelled walls of the headteacher’s imposing office. Her gaze fixed on a display of framed certificates on the wall behind him and directly above a large picture of a smiling MrHinton shaking hands with a man dressed in ceremonial robes and wearing a heavy gold chain.
The sound of loud throat-clearing penetrated Ruby’s contemplation and she returned her attention to Jake’s headteacher.
‘—MrsLamont, let me be quite clear. We pride ourselves on our values here at StMartin’s, one of which is honesty. If Jacob transgresses or resorts to violence once again, we will be forced to exclude him from our school community. I really cannot condone any behaviour that puts our students at risk.’
Ruby generally scorned anything she considered mawkish or sentimental, but the one area of her life where this rule didn’t apply was her son. From the moment Jake’s tiny newborn fist had reached out to grab her finger, he had burrowed into her heart and lodged himself at its centre. There was no question she would stop a bullet or leap in front of a speeding bus to save him, and MrHinton’s implied threat to her son’s future was one provocation too far. Incensed, Ruby stood up and crossed the short stretch of carpet between her chair and the headteacher’s desk. She rested her hands on the edge of his desk and leaned forward, not missing the instant widening of the man’s eyes or the way he shrank back into his chair to widen the space between them.
‘So, let me understand this,’ she said. ‘You’ve dragged me out of my extremely busy workplace this afternoon to tell me that you think my eight-year-old son is ariskto your school because he stood up for himself this morning when some little shit shouted – infront ofeveryonein the playground – that Jake was lying about his father and is secretly an orphan? Arethosethe values you consider acceptable within your school community?’
The headteacher flinched at the fury seeping through Ruby’s quietly spoken words and his eyes darted nervously around the room. While she had him on the ropes, Ruby pressed home her advantage.
‘Isn’t it bad enough that Jake’s father isn’t around without the poor kid being tormented about it? Please explain to me how this type of behaviour fits in with the charitable Christian environment I thought StMartin’s was supposed to offer my son.’
MrHinton’s indignation subsided like a balloon suddenly losing air and Ruby watched as his flushed cheeks returned to a pale pink. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite.Hewasn’t a confused little boy whose father had left home one day and never returned.Hewasn’t a gifted young artist who drew haunting sketches in the hope that when his father finally did come home, he’d be so impressed with them that he would stay. No. MrHinton was a grown man who, Ruby would bet, had never needed to make sense of why his own father didn’t want to stick around.
‘Please sit down, MrsLamont.’ MrHinton spoke without bluster and Ruby returned to her chair with a pang of trepidation. Not for the first time, she silently cursed Kenny. Six years on, the shadow of her former partner’s abrupt departure from their lives continued to loom large and was now threatening to ruin Jake’s life. MrHinton might be a pompous cultural dinosaur, but Ruby couldn’t afford to push him too far. StMartin’s was a highly sought-after school, and its location only a short walk from their house in Blossom Street made it easy for Ruby to drop Jake off in the mornings and for Auntie Pearl, who lived with them, to pick him up after school. Even more importantly, StMartin’s after-school art club came with expert tutors who were guiding Jake to develophis impressive drawing skills, and her son would be devastated if he had to leave.
Ruby’s despair was mirrored on her face and, after studying her for a moment, MrHinton unfolded his arms. ‘Look, MrsLamont, I have also communicated with Oliver Marshall’s parents and made it clear their son’s behaviour was unkind and completely unacceptable.’ Remarkably, his tone had switched, and it sounded almost as if he were pleading with her. ‘Our ethos at StMartin’s is to support everyone, whatever their circumstances, to fulfil their abilities. Jacob is a talented student, and his artwork is remarkable for his age. Nevertheless,’ he added quickly, ‘while young Oliver’s behaviour was reprehensible, it did not justify Jacob’s actions and I cannot condone violence.’
MrHinton sounded sincere and, mindful of her need to keep the teacher onside, Ruby relaxed her shoulders and forced a reassuring smile she was far from feeling. ‘I certainly don’t condone violence, either’ –unless it’s against that bastard, Kenny,she thought silently – ‘and I appreciate you speaking to Oliver’s parents. Believe me, I loathe any form of deceit and this certainly isn’t the Jake I know. I’ll have a strong word with him when he gets home today.’
The headteacher nodded and stood up, glancing towards the closed door of his office to make it clear the meeting was over. ‘Thank you for your understanding, MrsLamont, and I can assure you we will be keeping a close eye on young Oliver as well.’
The ‘as well’ almost did it, but Ruby bit her tongue and quickly shook MrHinton’s outstretched hand before grabbing the coat from the back of her chair and striding out of the office.
2
Leaving the school through its old-fashioned wrought-iron gates, Ruby stood on the pavement for a few moments, gulping in the cold air while deciding on her next move. The chilly October wind whistled past her ears, and she shook her long braids loose to frame her face and warm her ears before drawing her heavy wool coat up around her throat. She was in no mood to go back to the office and Priya, her assistant, could easily cover for the rest of the day. Jake wouldn’t finish school for another couple of hours, and after thirty minutes in MrHinton’s company, Ruby was in desperate need of a mug of tea and a few of the remaining Bourbon biscuits in the kitchen cupboard.
Ruby glanced at her watch. Auntie Pearl would no doubt be on the sofa engrossed in the daytime television shows that had become her favourite activity since her retirement. Only months after Kenny’s disappearance, Ruby’s life had been further devastated by the sudden death of her parents in a car accident. Without ever being asked, Auntie Pearl – her mum’s twin – had quietly moved into their Blossom Street semi one day between her nursing shifts, taking charge of a struggling Ruby and two-year-old Jake. When Ruby had once fearfully asked her aunt how long she was staying, Auntie Pearl had brushed away the question.
‘Looking after you and Jake is what Opal would have wanted. My darling sister and Neville didn’t get to watch their grandson grow up, so I’m going to do it for them.’
A sudden blast of cold wind jolted Ruby back into the present. She dashed off a quick text to Priya and dropped the phone back into her bag. Thrusting her chilled hands into her coat pockets, Ruby started down the road, her long legs eating up the short distance between the school and her house.
‘Ru-bee!Is that you?’
Ruby grinned and slammed the door behind her, resisting the temptation to shout, ‘No, it’s an axe murderer!’ Making flippant comments to an elderly woman who took everything literally was not a clever idea.
‘Hi, Auntie Pearl,’ she called, using the toe of one boot to ease off the heel of the other. Tugging off the other boot, she hooked her coat on to the rack behind the door and made her way to the living room. ‘I had to leave work to go to Jake’s school for a meeting with the headteacher. You’ll never guess what that child has—’
Ruby broke off abruptly at the sight of a woman sitting next to her aunt on the sofa. The woman was dressed in jeans and a lemon-yellow jumper. Her long blonde hair was dishevelled and judging from her blotchy, tear-stained face and the striped cotton hanky in her hands – which Ruby immediately recognised as one of Auntie Pearl’s – she had been crying. A full mug of tea with the steam still rising sat on a side table next to the visitor, and the television volume had been lowered to a hum.
Standing in the doorway in her socks, Ruby shifted uneasily while racking her brains to remember the name of the visitor now staring at her accusingly through red-rimmed eyes. It was onlya couple of weeks since she’d been out clubbing with her, along with Griffin and a group of their friends. But the polished, slightly stuck-up woman with a thick, glossy mane and posh drawl that she remembered was a far cry from the resentful-looking one on the sofa. Unfortunately, Griffin’s girlfriends came and went so quickly it was hard to keep track.It’s not Janine; she was a few months ago. Monica was last month...Think, Ruby! What the hell was ...? Shirley!
‘Shirley!’ Ruby exclaimed, throwing an apologetic smile at her aunt as she moved into the room. Remembering the possessive way in which the girl had clung on to Griffin at the club, Ruby had a shrewd idea of what was going on here, and her heart sank. But whatever Griff had been up to, it really wasn’t her aunt’s headache.
Auntie Pearl, however, didn’t seem the slightest bit put out. She gave her visitor’s shoulders a comforting squeeze before picking up her own mug, filled to the brim with milky tea, and fixing her gaze studiously on to the television. Her body language made it clear the woman was now Ruby’s problem.
‘It’s Shirlee, not Shirley,’ the woman snuffled in response to Ruby’s greeting.
Ruby stared at her in bafflement. ‘Isn’t that what just I said?’
‘No! The emphasis is on the second bit, not the first.’
