‘Is everything OK?’ I ask, as I sit down with her and Dad.
Mum sighs. ‘I’m afraid not.’ She looks at me. ‘The governors are still on at me about the uniform business. They won’t change their minds.’
‘Meaning?’
‘They’re furious, and they’re demanding an instant return to the traditional dress code. Some parents are even threatening to take their children out of the school.’
‘They’re what?’ I blurt. ‘Seriously? Over a stupid uniform policy?’
‘You know that your fellow pupils come from a wide range of cultures, Charlie. It’s important to me that Dunbridge Academy is an inclusive and liberal place, where everyone feels comfortable, but I also understand that it can be hard to let go of old beliefs and be tolerant towards newer ones.’
‘How can it be a liberal place where everyone feels comfortable if it’s going to give way over something so silly?’
‘Charlie, this is about one day a week . . .’
‘This is about the principle, Mum.’
‘I’m on your side, love,’ she says, which makes everything all the more frustrating. ‘And I really have tried to explain to the governors and the parents’ council that even an elite boarding school, for all its traditions, has to move with the times.’
The parents’ council . . . a.k.a. Valentine Ward’s mother, who’s been gunning for Mum for years and won’t miss an opportunity to kick up a fuss. Unfortunately, Veronica Ward is also oneof the school’s most influential backers, and regularly donates eye-watering sums of money, possibly in the hope that it will somehow help her waste-of-space son to scrape through his A levels.
‘Unfortunately, some of them are very set in their ways.’
‘So what does that mean?’
‘Charlie, it’s breaking my heart, but if certain people stop donating money to the school, things will soon be looking grim. And they’ve made it very clear that they don’t approve of their sons and daughters being taught at an institution that’s undermining traditional values.’
‘But we can’t let them do that!’ I protest. ‘That’s exactly how people like the Wards always end up winning, just because of their shitey money. Mum, you can’t let this happen.’
‘I’m afraid there’s no solution that will keep everyone happy here.’
I want to reply, but I bite the words back.
Mum might believe it, but that makes it our job to find one.
TORI
‘They said what?’ I laugh. ‘God, how old-fashioned can you get? Just because we’re standing up for equality? The governors get to wear whatevertheylike, don’t they?’
Charlie shrugs. He’s sitting on a bench in the courtyard. ‘Mum thinks it’s stupid too.’
‘But she still won’t do anything?’
‘As head teacher, she has to take everyone’s interests into account,’ Henry says.
‘I think freedom of choice is in everyone’s interests, don’t you?’
‘Man, Tori, sometimes things just aren’t that simple,’ Gideon puts in. ‘Obviously I’m in favour of everyone being able to wearwhat they like. But I’m also in favour of staying at this school, and just now that’s looking shaky. At least, if you ask my dad.’
‘Do your parents really have that much of a problem with it?’ Olive asks.
‘They’re worried. And I’m not the only one. I’ve spoken to a few people in other years. Especially the younger ones – there are loads of kids from conservative families who want to send them somewhere else.’
‘So we’re giving up?’ I wonder. ‘I think our families would be better off worrying about their children being discriminated against at this school.’
‘I know, Tori,’ says Charlie, but I look past him to Valentine, who’s just walking by with a few of his guys. He gives me such a look of contempt that hot rage begins to boil in my belly. He definitely got his parents involved, because he can’t stand the idea that we might succeed with our campaign. And it doesn’t even matter to him – hopefully he’ll never have to set foot in this school again after this term. He probably just about scraped through his A levels, and his parents will get him into universitysomewhere, I’m sure. It’s hard to express how much you can despise a person, even before he started sabotaging our plans, which is making me mad with rage.
‘Where’s your pretty skirt, Sinclair?’
