And then I reach into my jacket and take out the drawing from my inner pocket. I know what’s sketched on this sheet, I don’t have to look at it again. It’s an image that won’t leave me while my heart still beats. Turning, I hold it up to Denman.
“The last time we met I felt really sorry for you,” I tell him. “There you were, scrabbling around on the floor for your precious bits of charcoal.Poor Mr Denman, I thought.What shitty luck he had with that hit-and-run over Christmas.Your recovery must have been very slow and painful, sir; over three months before you could come back to school. But what I didn’t realize until today was that El never uttered a word of sympathy for you, even though before the holidays he was your favourite pupil and you were his favourite teacher. I must admit, I used to get a bit jealous sometimes.”
The art teacher has stopped dead, his coffee mug dangling from his finger. His eyes are rooted on your drawing, El. A nerve jumps in his neck and he passes his tongue over his teeth.
“Yeah, El was a great tease,” I continue. “Don’t you think Mr D has the cutest bangs? Have you seen Mr D’s eyes? You could justdrownin them.But that’s all it was. Teasing. Problem is, I don’t think you understood that. Well…” I shrug. “Even if you did, you didn’t care.”
“What is this?” Denman laughs.
“It’s the truth. Or as much of it as El could ever face. You raped him.”
He jabs a finger at the unidentifiable figure lurking behind the sculpture. “You think that proves something? I mean, I don’t even know what that’s supposed to be. Look,” he draws his hand across his mouth, “you have to understand, Dylan, Ellis always had a very vivid imagination. It was a wonderful thing. But…but obviously it could get the better of him.”
I start to refold the drawing, replacing it in my pocket. “So you’re saying he made this up?”
“Well…” Denman juts his chin at me. “It isn’t true, that’s all I know. I mean, whatever it’s supposed to represent, it isn’t real. Now listen, if you leave here right now we can forget this ever happened. I won’t tell anyone what you’ve said today, I swear.”
I stare at him. “But why wouldn’t you, if the drawing’s a lie? I’ve just accused you of a serious crime, Mr Denman. That must mean I’m dangerously deluded.Ifthe drawing’s a lie.”
“I feel sorry for you.” He tries on a shivery smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s awful, what you’ve been through. Watching the boy you love drown. Blaming yourself for not being strong enough to save him. That’s what you’ve been thinking, isn’t it? All that guilt, Dylan, it’s bound to have an effect.”
I won’t listen to this. I change tack.
“You know something, sir?” I give him a long up-and-down look. “You really are anawfulmess. Remind me, how did you get so spectacularly fucked-up in the first place? Crossing the road, wasn’t it? Hit-and-run? Did they ever find the driver?”
“Dylan, listen…”
“Listen? Didyoulisten when El begged you to stop?” I’ve had enough. It’s time to end this bullshit. “I agree, the drawing proves nothing. It’s too abstract, too vague to ever stand up in court. But the coffee you just gave me? What exactly is in your special blend, Mr Denman?”
His gaze darts to the mug resting on the low parapet.
“I think the police will be interested in the contents of that cup, don’t you?”
He threads his fingers together until his knuckles stand out, sharp and white. “There’s nothing distinctive about that mug,” he says. “Nothing to connect it directly to me.”
“Isn’t there?”
Reaching into my trouser pocket, I take out my phone and show him the screen. A red circle flashes and a counter marks the thirteenth minute of the recording. “I started this just before I entered the school,” I tell him. “It’s being automatically uploaded to a file-hosting service. The recording will cover our entire conversation up to this second, including your offer of coffee. And when the police analyse whatever’s in that cup? Well, I think that’ll be enough to put you under suspicion for at least the attempted rape of a student. Then the police will probably get a warrant to search your house. I wonder what they’ll find there?”
You used to love my klutziness, El, but I think you might have been even prouder of my lack of it now.
“Tell me about your accident,” I say. He stares back at me, his clear blue eyes as black as ink in the failing light. “It wasn’t a hit-and-run, was it? Ellis came for you. He spent a week trying to recover from what you’d done to him, shutting out the world and everyone who loved him, but then, slowly, gradually, he began to re-emerge. El was never really the same again. I can see that now. Something was taken away from him that night, but you couldn’t eclipse him. Not totally. He was just too strong for you. Too bold and proud and brilliant. He came back to the world. Back to me. But before he could, he had to reclaim some of that power you’d stolen from him.”
For a second it looks like he’s going to start protesting again. But then his gaze shifts back to the coffee cup and something new enters his tone.
“Outside my house,” he says slowly. “He waited outside my house. New Year’s Day. It was still dark. I had to let my cat out and when I opened the door, he…”
“I know what he did to you,” I say. “I can see it.”
“He said he wouldn’t go to the police,” Denman says. “That they’d never believe someone like him. But he told me never to come back to Ferrivale High. That if I did…” He runs his good hand over that crooked claw. “So I stayed away as long as I could. I tried to respect his wishes.”
“You fucking liar,” I spit back at him. “You stayed away because you’re a coward.”
“But I had to come back,” he insists. “In the end, I had to. Because of my contract. Even if I wanted to go to another school, I needed to work out my notice. I had to live, Dylan. I had to work.”
“And your first day back was the day of the Easter dance. El didn’t see you until then because we’d taken the day off after Ollie’s video hit the internet. He had no idea you were back until he spotted you with the other teachers in the gym.”
I flash to you in the car, perfect pink lips trembling, your gaze flicking to the gym doors again and again. In those brief moments you couldn’t bear for me to touch you because my touch, any touch, would remind you of his.
