Becky nodded thoughtfully, considering. ‘He could be fine,’ she said. ‘Or he could be an absolutenightmare.’
Chris Canne looked earnestly at Pat. ‘What I’m going to tell you is totally confidential. HR would roast my you-know-whats if they knew I’d spoken about this.’ He leaned back in his chair, plaiting his fingers as he remembered. ‘It was back in February, when we were appointing for the job, and Nev was on our shortlist,’ he said. ‘He was a strong candidate – excellent application, good references – a few years of being an Ofsted inspector under his belt. And then three days before the interview I got a call from Ken, the CEO at Quays Academy Trust. He said he’d heard there were some disturbing things about Nev that maybe I should look into. And then later that day Chantelle from Finefare Academy rang me, saying much the same thing: disturbing rumours I might want to find out more about.’
‘What disturbing rumours?’ asked Pat. Chris shook his head unhappily. ‘That’s just it,’ he said. ‘No one seemed to know. Just … something we might want to check out. Naturally we got HR onto it, but they couldn’t find a thing. A couple of complaints about a couple of the Ofsteds he’d led, but that’s par for the course with an inspector.’
‘Did you not find out who was starting these rumours?’ asked Pat.
‘No one seemed to know,’ said Chris. ‘Everyone we spoke to had heard them from someone who’d heard them from someone else—’
Pat nodded. For all its flatscreens and state-of-the-art media, this world of corporate trusts wasn’t so very different from the world of the primary school staffroom.
‘Believe you me,’ said Chris, ‘HR were all over it like a rash,’ he said. ‘IT, safeguarding, the lot. But there was nothing we could find, so in the end there didn’t seem any reason we couldn’t go ahead with the appointment – especially after the other candidate dropped out … But …’ He tailed off, frowning.
‘But you always wondered?’
Chris nodded. ‘Especially after I got to know Nev. I mean the guy was a hard worker, no two ways about it …’ Again his voice tailed off.
‘But?’ prompted Pat.
‘Well, I did hear some of his inspections got a bit fraught – one in Ossett, one in Fulford – a place in the North East calledPity Me of all things. Some of the names of these places – we’ve currently got a Gallows Lane on our books!’
‘These inspections,’ prompted Pat, bringing him back on course.
‘Yes, a bit problematic.’ Chris nodded. ‘Blood on the walls—’ He realised what he’d said and stopped short.
‘But surely you get that with inspections?’ said Pat.
Chris nodded. ‘Oh yes, all the time. But then, when he came to work with the team here—’ Again he stopped.
‘He didn’t get on with others?’ hazarded Pat.
Chris spoke slowly. ‘Nev Hilton was not a people person. He rubbed more than one person up the wrong way.’
Pat remembered that long-ago night at the Busby Stoop. She looked at Chris who was gazing worriedly at the ceiling.
‘I always wondered if this might come back to bite us,’ he said, almost to himself.
‘But it hasn’t, has it?’ said Pat. ‘Not that I can see.’
Chris nodded. ‘Do you think something happened to Nev – I mean that night – when you said someone was shouting at him?’
Pat shrugged. ‘The police seem satisfied it was a heart attack.’
Chris nodded again, shoulders relaxing. At that moment the door opened and a young man Pat had met once before, Jared Keen, came bouncing in, eyes wide.
‘The call has come!’ he announced dramatically, completely ignoring Pat.
‘Not Ofsted?’ Chris half rose, eyes also wide. ‘I thought we were in the clear? It’s well after one!’
‘Wagon Lane,’ said Jared. ‘They’ve only just let us know.’
Chris groaned, briefly closed his eyes. ‘Wagon Lane,’ he said to himself. ‘That’s all we need at the end of term!’
‘I’m getting the inspection team over there now,’ said Jared, retreating to the door. ‘Jacky Southwart’s down in Barnsley. She’s going to hotfoot it over there post haste.’
‘Pat, I have to go,’ said Chris.
Pat, who in this moment was very grateful to be retired, merely nodded.
