“I understand.”
“If people knew I’d accepted your daughter after we…”
“No one will ever find out, I promise.”
She stares at me, unconvinced.
“You can trust me. I’m not the kind of guy who goes around shouting about stuff like this.”
“That wasn’t always the case.” She crosses her arms and studies my expression.
“I was just a stupid kid.”
“And, thanks to you, Mary Hannigan had to move out of town.”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“You told everyone that you slept together in the changing rooms after school. Her father was the church vicar.”
I keep my mouth closed; I’m scared that I’ll only make things worse. Nothing I say could ever convince Jordan that I’m not the man she thinks I am. Unfortunately, my reputation precedes me, and she seems to believe everything she’s heard. She thinks I’m a piece of shit who doesn’t even deserve a glance from her.
Which is why I never invited her to the school dance.
Which is why she started seeing Steven Hill.
Which is why she married him.
“I can’t trust you.”
“Please, I’ll do anything.” I reach my hands out across the desk. “Don’t do it for me. Do it for her.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You’re my last chance, Jordan. I don’t know where else to turn to.”
“We’re back!” A voice rings out from behind me, making me turn suddenly. “I showed her the classrooms, the bathrooms, the cafeteria, the library…”
Jordan gets to her feet. “Thank you, Anya.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, smiling. Her gaze falls onto me, briefly. “I’ll just get back to my desk, outside,” she says, as if she were a guard dog. “Where I can hear everything.”
“Go ahead. We’re done here.”
I get to my feet, too. “Already?”
“The bell will ring in a few minutes.” She looks at her watch. “I’ll have a look over the case and get back to you in a few days.”
“Of course, I understand,” I say, watching my last chance slip through my fingers. “Thank you for taking the time to see us.”
“Thank you for considering our school.”
“So…” I say, walking over to my daughter, who has stayed standing in the doorway with Anya. “Let’s get going, then.”
“Have a nice day,” Jordan says, coolly getting rid of us.
“You, too,” I say, resting my hand on my daughter’s shoulder to steer her outside. “Don’t worry,” I say to Anya, who was waiting to accompany us. “I know the way out.”
We walk the long corridor that leads to the main entrance, and step outside, where a flock of students, clad in purple uniform, are waiting for the school bell to mark the start of another week. We head towards the car park wordlessly, and I unlock it. We both climb inside.
