I scowled at her and crossed my arms over my chest. I did not have time for this level of fuckwittery. “I need to speak to aMiss Clara,” I said through gritted teeth for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Did this Clara woman have the plague or something? Why was it this hard to have a simple conversation with her?
“Miss Clara doesn’t deal with parents,” Miss Summerfield said, also for what felt like the hundredth time. “She’s only a teaching assistant.”
“Well, she’s the one my son has been talking about for the last month non-stop. And she’s the one who told my son his ‘brain works differently’ yesterday, so I would like to bloody well speak to hernow.”
“Daddy, you can’t say swears here,” Ozzie said as he tugged on my trouser leg.
I uncrossed my arms to ruffle his hair as I smiled down at him. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll do better, okay?”
“Miss Clara’s super shy with big people,” Ozzie went on to say. “She only talks to Miss Lily. I don’t think she’ll wanna talk to you. Specially if you’re gonna use yourscary voice.”
“I’m not using my scary voice,” I lied as I crouched down so I could be eye level with him. “All Daddy wants to do is speak to her, okay? I’m not going to scare her. She’s a grown adult and a teacher, Oz. She can handle talking to a parent.” Ozzie looked sceptical, and I began to wonder what the fuck was wrong with the mysterious Miss Clara.
“Hello, Lord Sterling.” I straightened up at the headmistress’s voice. Finally, someone who could make sense of this shitshow.
“Mrs Clayton,” I said brusquely, straightening to my full height and towering over both women.
“Lily,” Mrs Clayton said. “Why don’t you and Oscar go back to class? I’ll deal with Lord Sterling.”
Lily let out a relieved breath and smiled at Ozzie who took her hand.
“No more swears, Daddy,” Ozzie said over his shoulder as he was led away.
“Sure thing, Oz,” I called after him. “I’ll see you later, buddy. Have a good day.”
The smile I’d worn for my son dropped as soon as they were out of sight, and I turned back to the headmistress.
“I’m not sure what sort of show you’re running here, Mrs Clayton,” I said stiffly. “But if I want to meet with my child’s teacher, that request should be accommodated.”
Mrs Clayton gave me a shrewd look. Myscary voicecertainly had very little effect on her. But then again, she’d been the headmistress of Molton Prep for twenty years, and before that she’d beenmyform teacher. Not much could scare Mrs Clayton.
“Rafe Sterling,” she said in her very own scary voice, “don’t you come in here and throw your weight around like I haven’t seen you shove Blue Tac up your nose and cry after Molly Anderson pushed you into a puddle.”
I felt heat creep up my neck. Bloody hell, she was like a damn elephant. I’d been a scrawny little shit at prep school. It was only after I hit puberty that I’d “hulked out”, as my sister liked to put it. That bitch Molly Anderson had been twice my size back then. I shoved a hand through my hair and shifted on my feet just like I was a naughty nine-year-old again.
“Okay, fine, I’m sorry,” I muttered, relaxing my stance as I looked toward Ozzie’s classroom, then back at Mrs Clayton. “Listen, I’m not trying to throw my weight around. It’s just that Oz has been talking non-stop about thisMiss Clara. And I know she’s the one assessing him for dyslexia. I have a right to speak to the person educating my son.”
Mrs Clayton tilted her head to the side as she stared up at me. “Are you unhappy with her input?”
“Not exactly,” I said carefully. “I mean, Oz definitely seems less frustrated now, but I need to know what’s going on. Hetalks about her all the time, and I’m not sure I agree with all thisbrain working differentlychat.”
“Oscar’s braindoeswork differently, Rafe,” Mrs Clayton said gently. “And Miss Clara is the very best at helping children with different needs. I won’t have you coming in and bullying her.”
My eyebrows went up. “Bullying her? I just want to speak to the woman. I’m not sure what the hell is going on here, but you can’t hide employees away from parents who are paying exorbitant fees and, in the case of my family, making significant financial contributions to the school on a regular basis.”
“Now see here, young man,” Mrs Clayton said in her most stern tone, the same one she used when I painted Molly Anderson’s ponytail blue, “Iknowyou didn’t just try to use your money to get your way. I know this because I expect better from an Old Moltonian.”
“Yes, Mrs Clayton,” I chanted like I was back in her office as a naughty kid.
She stared at me for a moment, then let out a sigh. “You’re not going to let this go, are you, Rafe?”
I stood my ground and shook my head. No, I was not going to give up until I met the elusive Miss Clara. Where the fuck had they been hiding her? I hadn’t come across her at any of the school parents’ evenings or functions. She was like a ghost.
Mrs Clayton looked away from me for a moment and bit her lip in a highly unusual display of indecision and concern.
“Okay, I’ll see if I can set it up.”
I huffed out a frustrated breath. “Can’t I just see the woman now, for God’s sake?”
