A surge of anger and shock welled up in Nancy. She swallowed it back down before it could erupt. ‘She did what?’
‘We were in the playground, next class to go in for lunch, and she came over to the quiet zone where I was standing with Mia. Rosie came up to us and took Mia’s arm and said she was going to sit next to Mia at lunch today. I said that wasn’t fair, Mia and me had already decided to sit together, and she said, “Tough”, and when I tried to take Mia’s other hand, Rosie spun around and hit me on the head with her lunchbox. On purpose,’ said Lara, upset. ‘Then she ran off. So did Mia. Except she went to get one of the lunch teachers because I was crying.’
‘But why do the teachers think you got hurt from a game that went wrong?’
‘Because Rosie told them that.’
‘But you told them the truth, right?’
‘Yes. But they don’t believe me.’
Nancy was incensed. ‘But what about this Mia? Didn’t she back you up?’
‘She said it was an accident too.’
‘What?’
Lara flinched. Nancy checked herself. She had to keep calm or she’d frighten Lara into silence.
‘Sorry. Why did Mia say it was an accident?’
‘Because she’s scared. Rosie said she’ll kill her mum if Mia tells anyone it was on purpose.’
Inside, Nancy was seething. Who the hell did Rosie think she was, going around hitting Lara and lying and threatening other kids so she could get away with it? She was probably sitting in the classroom right now, all smug and carrying on with her day as normal, while poor Lara was isolated in this room with a lump on her head, waiting to go home.
What was going on with this school anyway? It was over a week since Nancy had asked for a meeting with Miss Young. They’d ended up having a conversation on the phone where Miss Young had promised to have a chat with Rosie. But it seemed to have made no difference.
With tremendous effort, Nancy kept her anger in check and stood up. ‘Darling, I’m just going to use the bathroom and then we’ll take you home, OK?’
Lara nodded. ‘You won’t be long?’ she pleaded.
Nancy assured her she wouldn’t, then left the room. She walked a little way down the corridor and stopped outside the door with the ‘Head teacher’ sign emblazoned on the front.
She knocked, once, but didn’t wait for an answer and let herself in.
James Whitman was sitting at his desk, typing something into his laptop. He looked up, surprised at the intrusion. Then he stood, smoothed a hand down his pale blue tie and offered up a charming smile.
‘Sorry, do you have an appointment?’ He gestured towards his laptop. ‘Only there’s nothing in my diary.’
‘No, I don’t,’ said Nancy.
‘It’s Mrs Miller, isn’t it? Lara’s mum? How are you?’
He remembered. It surprised her. Worked to disarm her slightly. She dug in firm. ‘I’m pretty pissed off.’ She walked across the room and sat herself down in his armchair.
He waited a moment then came from around the desk and took the armchair opposite her. Opened up his hands. ‘Go for it.’
She’d been expecting more resistance. It threw her.
‘I have just been called into school to pick up my child who has been hit on the head by another child.’
‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Miller. Sometimes the children’s games get out of hand.’
‘Out of hand?’ Nancy could feel her blood pressure rising again. She took a deep breath. ‘It wasn’t a game. It was a deliberate attack on my daughter.’
‘I understand that’s what Lara also told the teachers.’
‘Yes, because it’s true.’
