Page 54 of If I Could Say Goodbye
‘Sorry? Let me get this straight. The kids who were picking on my daughter are Oscar’s age?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What were they saying to her?’
‘I’m not entirely sure but I’m going to have another chat with Hailey.’
‘So how is Hailey now?’
‘She’s fine. I think she was more concerned that her brother was going to get into trouble. She’s in her English lesson with Mrs Woodley. Would it be possible to have a chat about this after school today?’
What do I do here? Jen is so vulnerable right now but on the other hand, the kids need her. I run my fingers through my hair, take a deep breath and reply. ‘I’ll see if I can get hold of my wife, but if not, I’ll be there. I’ll pick up the kids today.’
If I fire this advert through and don’t hit too much traffic, I can make it.
‘That’s great. Thanks so much, Mr Jones, I’m sure we’ll get this sorted. There are lots of children who are having a tough time at home and who get through it if we address the inappropriate behaviour swiftly.’
I nod. My mouth has lost the ability to speak.
Since when have we been a family having a tough time at home?
I run across the playground, cursing myself for being late. I get a glimpse of Oscar standing beside his teacher by the doors of the empty playground. My heart swells as I catch the look of worry in his eyes; I give him a smile and wave my hand as I jog across the tarmac. Hailey is biting the skin around her thumb – she’s looking for Jen, I realise – and seems shocked when she notices it’s just me.
I’ve decided to handle this myself. I rang Jen earlier and told her I wanted to pick up the kids; she sounded tired . . . the sleeping tablets are helping her during the night, but they seem to be making her lethargic during the day too. I make a mental note to mention it to the doctor at our next appointment.
‘Hello, Mr Jones, lovely to see you.’
‘Sorry I’m late.’
Oscar steps forward and clings to my leg, and I instinctively begin to stroke the hair on his head. Hailey looks straight at me. ‘Where’s Mum?’ she asks.
‘She’s not feeling well.’
Mrs Park, the headteacher, leads the way. Oscar is still hanging on to my leg like a monkey and I half drag him with each step. ‘The children can stay in one of the rainbow rooms while we have a little chat.’ She smiles at me as I try to detach Oscar’s hands from around my thigh.
The rainbow room is so rainbowy. I hate this kind of place; the bright colours are splattered all over it, like it’s telling you that you have to be happy, you have to be rainbowy. If Jen was here, she’d be telling me not to be so grumpy, and give some reasoning for the bright colours having a positive impact. I’d argue that it looks like someone ate too many ice creams with sprinkles on and threw up all over the place. Rainbow room, my foot. But I am the parent and so I smile enthusiastically at my kids and encourage them to have fun. Hailey’s face seems to mirror my own thoughts. She doesn’t feel rainbowy either, but Oscar is easily swayed by the tub of Lego and so they both leave us.
I follow the headteacher into her office. It smells like air freshener, has pretty boxes containing tissues and word stickers telling me to follow my dreams because ‘you never know where they may take you’.
‘Take a seat.’ She smiles as I lower myself onto the chair, sitting opposite, still smiling.
‘So . . .’ I begin.
‘So.’ Mrs Park places her hands on her thighs with a slap.
I jump in response. For a fleeting moment I wonder if the tweed and perfectly shaped chignon are all a bit of an act and for a second, I’m reminded of the first porno I ever watched. There was this secretary and the photocopier was broken, so in came this guy and—
‘Mr Jones.’ I quickly bring my focus back to the present. ‘If I can just start with saying how lovely both of your children are. Hailey is working well above her age-expected level and is always so polite and helpful . . . but Hailey’s teacher, Mrs Woodley, has noticed a change in her recently. She is becoming a little withdrawn and seems to be distancing herself from some of her friendship groups, and even though she is still making progress, she seems to be losing concentration often.’
‘What do you mean by losing concentration?’
‘Mrs Woodley said that she seems to be off in her own little world.’
I think of Jen swinging on the swing in the rain. I blink back the image. ‘Well she’s a kid, she’s probably thinking about, I don’t know . . . kid stuff. There is nothing wrong with Hailey.’ I sound defensive, I know I do, but she’s a kid. Kids daydream, it’s what they do.
‘Oh, I’m not saying there is something wrong with her, but we just thought we should raise it with you, that we have noticed a change in her behaviour.’
‘Her aunty died last year, just before Christmas. It was quite a shock to her. To all of us.’
