It was Megan who spoke. Iris couldn’t find any words and couldn’t have spoken them anyway.
‘Mrs Hamilton,’ Megan said in her plummy voice, ‘it has come to our attention that a video of Iris has been circulating today on group chats and social media around the students of South Lydacombe.’
Mrs Hamilton looked at Iris, who looked away. Iris fixed her gaze on a large print of Hokusai’sThe Great Wave off Kanagawaon the wall, but the picture blurred.
Without taking her eyes off Iris, Mrs Hamilton asked, ‘What does this video show?’
Neither Iris nor Megan answered.
‘Megan?’ the deputy head pastoral prompted.
‘Er … in the video, Iris is naked and she’s … um …’ It was the first time Iris had known Megan to be inarticulate. ‘She’s … masturbating … or, at least, pretending to,’ Megan said.
‘I see. And does the video show anyone else?’
‘No, only Iris.’
Only Iris indeed. Only she could have been so stupid. What on earth possessed her to send that video to Josh? She’d been so blind. She’d loved him so much, or she’d thought she did. But if he’d really loved her, he wouldn’t have put so much pressure on her to do it.
Oh God, Mrs Hamilton wasn’t going to ask to see the video, was she? A knot in Iris’s stomach tightened. She thought she might puke again. Looking around frantically, she located the wastepaper bucket under the desk just in case.
Mrs Hamilton was quiet for a moment, then she leant forwards, resting her hands on the desk and clasping them together. ‘Iris.’ Her tone was kind. That was something. She waited for Iris to look at her before continuing. ‘Did you make this video for someone?’
Iris nodded. So far, she hadn’t said a single word. She still wasn’t sure she could speak past the lump and bile in her throat.
‘Can you tell me who you made it for?’
‘J-J-Josh,’ Iris managed.
‘Josh?’
‘Joshua Knoll,’ Megan chipped in helpfully. ‘Iris’s ex-boyfriend.’
‘So you sent Josh this video when you were dating, I assume?’ Mrs Hamilton said.
Iris nodded again.
‘Iris split up with him and he didn’t take it well,’ Megan said.
Mrs Hamilton ignored Megan. ‘And did you send it to anyone else?’ she asked Iris.
Iris shook her head. The tears came then, and in seconds, Iris’s body was shaking with her sobs.
Megan inched her chair closer and put her arm around Iris’s shoulders. Mrs Hamilton pushed a box of tissues across the desk. She must have been used to people crying in her office. She grabbed a notepad and took a pen out of a pot on her desk and jotted down some notes. Iris read what she’d written upside down. Iris’s full name. And Josh’s full name.
‘OK, Iris, I want you to listen to me.’ Was it Iris’s imagination or did Mrs Hamilton sound slightly impatient? Iris made an effort to pull herself together. ‘As you know, all students at South Lydacombe are required to sign the IT Acceptable Use Policy and it is strictly forbidden to distribute images and videos of someone without their permission, particularly when those images and videos can cause harm and distress. Anyone who has shared this video –everyone who has shared the video – is in breach of the AUP. Those students will be subject to disciplinary action.’
Then it hit Iris. Megan hadn’t told Mrs Hamilton that she herself had received the video. Or who had sent it to her. Iris had only glanced at Megan’s phone. She hadn’t seen the name of the sender. Someone in her drama group chat, Megan had said. Iris didn’t do Amateur Dramatics. Megan wasn’t in Iris’s year. According to Megan, the video had been circulating on group chatsandon social media. How many pupils had forwarded this video? People Iris probably didn’t even know and who didn’t know her or anything about her. Until now. The whole school must know by now. How long before students at the neighbouring schools saw the video, too? For all Iris knew, it was already doing the rounds.
Mrs Hamilton thanked and dismissed Megan, then turned back to Iris. ‘I’m going to ring your parents and get them to come and pick you up. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to take the bus home and Mr Brook will want to have a word with you and your parents before you go.’
Iris definitely didn’t want to take the bus home. But her stomach lurched at the thought of her parents finding out about this.
Mrs Hamilton picked up her landline and punched in the number for Iris’s mum’s mobile. But it went straight to voicemail. The same for her dad, who was probably still at work.
Daniel answered, though. Mrs Hamilton hadn’t put the call through the speaker, but the volume was up loud and Iris could hear Daniel’s voice and make out what he was saying.
‘Mr Duffy, this is Mrs Hamilton, the deputy head pastoral at South Lydacombe. I’m afraid there has been an incident at school—’
