“He has no experience in site-specific catering.”
“Excuse me”—James Royce-Royce tried to restrain Baby J from doing something potentially destructive to his computer—“I’ve made a sausage plait for the queen.”
Bronwyn gesticulated at the screen. “See. I’ve had to deal with this all week.”
“See,” mirrored James Royce-Royce, “she has no respect for my experience.”
“You don’t want respect,” Bronwyn said over any intermediarying I might have been planning, “you want obedience.”
“Okay,” I tried at last, “perhaps we can all accept that both of you bring valuable and unique—”
“Whatshebrings,” James Royce-Royce interrupted, “is seven different ways to make a mess with jackfruit.”
“Oh, get your head out your arse, arsehead.”
James Royce-Royce clapped his hands over Baby J’s ears. “Language. You see the kind ofunprofessionalism—”
“Oh, because it’s the height of professional to bring a toddler to a work meeting, isn’t it?”
“He’svery precocious.”
“Please.” I don’t think I actually screamed. I might have actually screamed. “I know you’re both doing me a massive favour here”—James Royce-Royce and Bronwyn opened their mouths—“and ifeitherof you says that you’re doing me a favour but the other person is lucky to have the exposure, I will…well, I won’t do anything on account of the whole doing-me-a-massive-favour thing, but you’ll have been really predictable and I hope you’ll feel bad about it.”
Baby J said “Arsehead” happily into the silence.
And then my phone started ringing. I glanced down at my desk in the fervent hope that it would be somebody so important that I could cut this meeting short.
Then I realised that by fervently hoping that, I had massively jinxed myself. Because Ididhave to cut the meeting short. Because it was St. Jude’s Academy.
“Sorry.” I didn’t even bother to hide my apprehension. “You both make really good points, but I have to get this. It’s Jaz’s school.”
I de-headphoned and wheeled my chair away from the computer. “Hello?”
“Mr. O’Donnell?” It was Miss Collins. She sounded… I was going to go withstudiedly professional. “I’m afraid you’ll need to come and pick up Jasmine.”
It was not picking-up-Jasmine time. It was not even close to picking-up-Jasmine time. “Can I ask why?”
There was a moment’s silence from the other end of the line, and then Miss Collins said, very calmly, “She’s been suspended.”
* * *
James Royce-Royce and Bronwyn had been very understanding about my need to bail immediately, and not entirely trusting myself to jump straight into the car from a standing start, I took a moment in my study to compose myself and message Oliver.
That took longer than I expected it to, because I wound up typing and deleting the same message six times over, working through different phrasings until I finally said fuck it and went withJaz has been suspended.
While I was waiting with a nauseous knot in my stomach for him to reply, I also noticed a long chain of messages in the Are the Straights Okay (Dinner Party Remix) group.
CANT DO HTIS WEEKEND BABYSITTER HAS SCROFULA.This was Bridge.
Sorry, did you say scrofula?That was Peter.
I was unsurprised to notice that James Royce-Royce had followed up withWe thought Baby J had scrofula once, but then James Royce-Royce had brought him down to earth withIt was nappy rash.
Definitely scrofula?Peter again.Like the king’s evil scrofula.
DON’T KNOW ABOUT TAHT SHE DFEINITELY SAID SCROFULA
I refuse to believe your babysitter has scrofula.That was Priya.
