‘All the things she’s said and done to Lara!’
‘Mrs Miller, as I’m sure you appreciate, it’s often very hard to ascertain exactly what has happened and when between children. As much as the teachers keep an eye, they can’t watch every child twenty-four seven.’
‘They don’t have to watch every child. Just Rosie,’ snapped Nancy. She could see Lara staring off into the distance.
‘And they will. But we also want to take some proactive steps. Previous situations have shown us that talking tochildren who have issues with friendships and workshopping with them often has a very positive outcome.’
‘Workshopping?’ repeated Nancy, aghast. ‘What is this, some kind of corporate “getting to know you” bullshit?’
Mr Whitman frowned at her use of language.
‘And what exactly happens in these workshops?’
‘The girls will be encouraged to articulate what they find difficult about certain friendships and how best to navigate them. Often they use role play.’
Role play?She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was trying to see his point of view, she really was. But she was highly dubious that a child as devious as Rosie would fall for such a pile of touchy-feely crap.
‘Mr Whitman, with all due respect, I do not think for one minute this is going to change things.’
He frowned and glanced at Lara as if to remind Nancy that she should be remaining positive for her own daughter’s sake. It riled.
‘Mrs Miller, I think you need to have a little more faith. It has certainly worked in the past and I see no reason why it shouldn’t work again. We need to at least give it a try.’ He paused. ‘We should also remember that Rosie has been through quite a tough year.’
Nancy was staggered. ‘What?’
Mr Whitman realized he’d been insensitive, attempted to cover. ‘I know that’s not an excuse and I know she’s not the only child with big life-changing challenges to overcome’ – here he glanced at Lara – ‘but we need to look at the whole picture.’ He took a breath and laid his hands flat onthe table, brightening his tone. ‘Right, well, I need to let you know that we will not be punishing Lara for leaving the school as she’s already been through enough.’
PunishingLara?Nancy was so shocked she didn’t know what to say.
Mr Whitman smiled at Lara. ‘Are you ready to go back to class now?’
Lara obediently stood, just as there was a knock on the door and Esther put her head round.
‘Your next meeting’s arrived,’ said Esther.
‘Great. I’ll be there in a minute,’ said Mr Whitman.
Nancy saw Lara give her a tiny wave as she slunk out of the door. Esther held it open wider and smiled at Nancy. The implication, whether deliberate or not, was clear. Her time was up.
Mr Whitman stood. ‘I know it can seem unfair and all you want is to protect Lara but we would please urge you to trust us to make the right decisions. This kind of thing happens a lot in schools, and you’d be amazed at how in another few weeks or months it can all blow over.’
He sounded experienced, he looked confident, he seemed soconvinced, it was hard not to be reassured by him. And part of Nancy desperately wanted to be reassured. But the only thing she knew for certain as she walked back across the playground was that she was stuck in a system. A system devised and managed by the school. A system that, as a parent, you had no power to change.
She headed home, wrapped up against the cold. When she got back, she felt as rudderless as ever.
Nancy took her coffee up to her room and stepped out onto the balcony. She took a few deep breaths, trying to work out what to do. But she had no answers. She realized she was just waiting to see what happened next.
As she gazed out across the grey water, she noticed with a shock that she could no longer see the chimney pots. And the church spire was almost swallowed up by the rising water. She’d become so used to seeing them and now they’d vanished beneath the reservoir.
She gulped for breath without really knowing why.
FIFTY-FOUR
Friday 11 December
Lorna loved Christmas. It was her favourite time of the year. And there was a day she always spent decorating the house while the children were at school. She loved seeing their faces when they ran up the front path ahead of her, eyes lit up with excitement as they took in the wreath on the front door. That was the signal that everything was different inside and they would rush in with impatience, squealing at the wooden nativity, the large Christmas elves at the fireplace, the gold stars strung from wall to wall and the musical model Christmas scenes, complete with snowy mountains and Swiss-style chalets. The best part was of course the tree, and although Lorna dug it out of the loft (she didn’t go with the real ones, preferred instead to get something that required less hoovering), she let the kids decorate it themselves.
This year there was something new, something extra special that Amazon had delivered that morning. She looked out of the living room window and smiled. In the tiny front garden was a giant pop-up snowman, its LED lightscurrently unlit and unimpressive but come four thirty, when dark was setting in, it would come alive. Lorna couldn’t wait – the kids were going to love it! She was still admiring it when she saw Simon open the front gate. She started – what was he doing home so early?
