With the Headmaster's Approval (11 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sandra Atkins couldn’t believe
how her life had been turned around. It was a Saturday morning and she was having her photograph taken in Andy De Villiers’ photographic studio, a converted bedroom in Miss Murray’s house.

She’d
often wondered where Miss Murray lived, and now she was here in this enormous old house that reminded her of one of the period dramas she watched on the TV. The huge lounge was furnished with dark wood chairs and a couch covered in chintz, and fragile tables with china vases she was afraid of bumping into and knocking over. The curtains were of crushed velvet that Mrs Atkins noted would protect the furniture from the summer sun and prevent the heat escaping in the winter. To the side of the window stood an easel displaying a landscape painting that looked to be of an African sun setting over the bush.  A fireplace was filled with fir cones, but there were also two discreetly disguised radiators to give the room pleasant warmth. A large bookcase stood on one wall, but there was no sign of a television.  The room had a hint of furniture polish mingled with the faint aroma of Miss Murray’s perfume.

Leading off the hallway a separate dining room with bay windows overlooked the manicured garden at the rear of the house. Two silver candlesticks stood on a gleaming wooden dining table and eight padded chairs were pushed neatly under it. What had once been a breakfast room was now Miss Murray’s study with a desk and computer and walls of bookshelves. French doors opened into a newly-built conservatory where Mrs Atkins sat primly on the edge of an easy chair afraid of creasing the cushions wondering if they had a ‘daily’ in ‘to do for them’. “You’ve got a beautiful home, Miss Murray,” she said, overcome with gratitude as she watched Andy setting up a few final poses against the backdrop of the garden.

“Thank you, Mrs Atkins. It’s where I was brought up
. My parents left the house to my sister and me. I’ve done a lot to it. As you can see, I’ve added on the conservatory,” she replied.

Jenna had picked
Mrs Atkins and Sandra up in her car earlier that morning. Mrs Atkins had made sure to note that it was an Audi so she could tell her husband, who tended to judge people on the make of car they drove. Then Jenna had driven them to a top hairdresser, a rather flamboyant and intimidating man, who had cut and styled Sandra’s hair. After which, Jenna had brought them back to the house and done Sandra’s makeup, explaining what she was doing so Sandra would be able to do it herself in future. Finally they’d found some stylish clothes of Andy’s that fitted Sandra, and finished everything off by spraying a light mist of expensive perfume on her.  “I don’t know how to thank you for what you’re doing for our Sandra,” said Mrs Atkins. “I always knew she was beautiful, but now everyone else can see it.”

“I
t was Mr Wild’s idea,” admitted Andy.

“He’s a good man, that Mr Wild. He really cares about the girls. He’s done right by our Sandra,” she said, nodding her approval.

“Yes, he has,” said Jenna. “But please remember not to show the photographs to anyone from the school. It might look as if Sandra is being rewarded for drug dealing.”

“Oh, we won’t, will we Sandra? We won’t let Mr Wild down,” she assured Jenna.

Andy took some digital pictures and printed them out so they could see what the final photographs would look like.

“Sandra, look at this. You look like one
of them models from a magazine,” Mrs Atkins said, quite awestruck at just how lovely her daughter looked.     

The following Tuesday Lisa put down the phone and hurried into Adam’s office. “Jenna wants to see us urgently in her classroom. It’s something to do with our website.”

The girls were on
morning break and Jenna was alone in the classroom frowning at the computer screen when they walked in. She looked up with a concerned expression.  Adam pulled up a chair for Lisa while he sat on the corner of Jenna’s desk.

“Someone’s hacked into the website. Look.”

“My God,” said Adam, scraping a chair out and sitting next to Jenna to get a better view at the screen.

A new feature had been added.
Discipline at St Mary’s
. There were pictures of Adam holding Danny Jackson by the lapels and searching his pockets. The pictures were captioned
We pride ourselves on taking care of our drug problems internally – Yankee style.

“Danny bloody Jackson,” said Adam, slamming his fist on the desk.

Yankee style. It was obvious who’d done it. Danny Jackson had been suspended and his brother was under police surveillance.  “How long have the pictures been there?” Lisa asked Jenna, who was responsible for maintaining the website.

“I don’t know. I don’t check the website very often as it’s just static information.”

“We need to get them down before word gets out, or someone from the governing body sees them,” Adam said, reaching for the mouse. But Jenna’s hand was already on it and his hand closed over hers. Their eyes locked. “I’ll drive, Miss Murray, if you don’t mind,” he said,

She returned his challenging gaze, but withdrew her hand. “Very well.”

He clicked the mouse several times to delete the pictures, but nothing was responding.

“Don’t you think I’ve already tried that,” snapped Jenna. “Whoever hacked in has changed the password.”

“Maybe they didn’t hack in,” suggested Lisa. “They could have got hold of the password.”

“How? The three of us are the only ones who know it,” said Jenna.

“When Miss Edwards first showed signs of memory loss I had to write it down for her,” said Lisa. “It wasn’t considered to be a huge secret as there didn’t seem to be any likelihood of anyone abusing it. It’s not as though we have our bank account numbers on the website.”

“
However they got in, we’ll have to get the site closed down. I’ll phone the service provider,” Adam said, taking out his phone and turning to Jenna. “What’s the number?”

She tried to open her desk drawer, but his knees were
blocking it. “I’m afraid you’ll have to move.”

He
scraped his chair back and Jenna took out her address book and recited the number. He punched it in and waited for someone to answer, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desk.

“Yes, this is Adam Wild, the Head of St Mary’s.  We need you to shut down the website immediately. Someone has hacked in.
And we’ll need a new password.” Lisa and Jenna couldn’t hear the reply, but it obviously wasn’t what Adam wanted to hear as his tone grew even more impatient. “Yes, I know it’s a girls’ school, but I’m still the head. I also know I’m American... and I’m obviously not Miss Edwards, she’s retired.” He stood up abruptly and started pacing in front of the desk. “What sort of security questions?” There was a pause before Adam replied. “No, I don’t know.” Another pause. “I don’t know that either. Who? Miss Murray?” 

Jenna grinned at Lisa
, and Lisa had to admit to a shared girlish pleasure in watching Adam’s obvious discomfort.

“Very
well.” He turned to Jenna. “He said he usually deals with you and for security reasons he needs you to answer the questions. Do you know the answers?”

“Yes.”

He offered her the phone, but she sat with folded arms, the hint of a mocking smile playing on her lips. “I thought you were driving.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please.”

She took her time taking the phone from him.

“Get them to check our account details are still correct
,” he said when she finally took the phone.

After answering
the security questions she handed it back to Adam. “They said it will take about five minutes. They’re going to email the new password.”

“Let’s hope no one took a screen shot,” Adam said. “If they got in using the password the new one will stop them, but if they hacked in we’ve got more of a problem.”

While they were waiting for the email to come through the bell rang and the girls started lining up outside the classroom waiting for Jenna to signal them to enter. She motioned for them to take their seats and they filed in whispering their speculation as to why Mr Wild and Mrs Ryan were sitting each side of Miss Murray and all three of them were wearing angry impatient expressions. The two girls whose chairs they were using decided it would be prudent to share with a friend rather than make a fuss.

Jenna instructed them to continue with the work they
’d been doing. As she returned to the computer the email came through with the new password. Adam’s hand closed over the mouse and Jenna said in an icy tone, “The website is part of my job description. Would you like me to relinquish it?”

He
removed his hand. “Carry on, Miss Murray,” he said, leaning back in the chair and lacing his hands behind his head.

With a few key strokes Jenna removed the offending feature. “Let’s hope whoever it was won’t be able to log or hack in again,” she said.

“Thank you, Miss Murray,” said Adam. “I think from now on one of us should check the website daily.”

At the lunch break Adam appeared at the staffroom door clad in a track suit and with sweat dampened hair. “I’ll be using the shower,” he said.  It had now become a routine and they knew to stay out of their locker room for ten minutes. Barbara Crook asked if he’d been playing squash.

“Yes, with Kyle Rudd.”

“Didn’t Noel Coward say: ‘
Squash – that’s not exercise, it’s flagellation’?”
said Jenna Murray.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” said Adam with a broad grin, “I’m not into flagellation,” a
nd he quietly closed the door.

Annette Woolf had been catching up on some work in her classroom. She’d missed lunch, but there was usually something to eat in the staff kitchen, Barbara Crook made sure of that
. She was looking forward to a cup of tea, but first she’d get her cardigan out of her locker as she was feeling chilly from being in the cold empty classroom. She was lost in thought when she opened the door and didn’t at first hear the shower running. It had clear glass sides and there was little steam from the luke-warm water. Adam had his back to her as he shampooed his hair. But then he turned and tipped his head back, his eyes closed as he allowed the water to cascade over his head and body. Transfixed, she watched as a thin river of soap suds traced a pattern through the fine dark hairs on his sculpted chest. It meandered down and hesitated for a moment in his navel before continuing its journey towards his belly and hips. It trickled over the faint tan line where he wore his swimming shorts low on his hips. Unable to take her eyes away she followed its passage as it crept into the crevices between his legs, and saw that he was perfectly proportioned.

It stirred a
long suppressed memory - a memory that could change her whole world if she allowed it to surface. No, No. She wouldn’t permit it, not after all these years, not after she’d conquered it, buried it where no one could find it. But the visions, the words were coming back, returning with a hated, haunting clarity. She was seven-years-old again. She hadn’t known her step-father was in the shower. She’d only wanted to use the toilet. “Little girls shouldn’t peep. What would your mummy say if she knew you were peeping? You don’t want me to tell your mummy you’ve been naughty, do you? Come here. Come to me. Come and lick this nice lollipop.”  She gagged as it all became real again. She could hear again the drip, drip of the leaky shower after he’d turned it off. Felt the remembered terror as he took her hand. No. No. She mustn’t think about it. She must get away. With a pounding heart she turned and fled from the cloakroom, leaving the pneumatic door-closer to do its job.

Her hands were clammy and cold, her legs shaky. Back to normal
- she had to get back to normal. Erase the memories.  Re-bury them. Hide them behind normality once again. She could hear the chatter and buzz in the staffroom. She waited outside for a while, taking deep calming breaths, and then she opened the door. They all glanced up, but when they saw her face the room quietened. It was Jenna who asked, “Are you all right? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her throat
was constricted, as if the lollipop were still choking her. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. She nodded and went to the kitchen to pour a cup of tea, but the cup rattled in the saucer and she was afraid she’d spill it.

”Let me do that,” offered Jenna, and poured it for her. “Come and sit down, something is obviously wrong.”

“I’m f-fine,” she stammered, and holding the cup with both hands she managed to sip at the scalding liquid.

And then the door swung open and Adam strode in. All eyes turned to him. His hair was still damp and slicked back. As it dried it would flop forward in that familiar way. His gaze took in the whole room, but settled on Annette. There was a smile playing on his lips.

She felt the blood rush up her neck and into her cheeks. He must have seen her - and know she’d seen him.

He went to the kitchen and had his back to her as he poured the tea into a mug. “Perhaps I should get a sign made,” he said, and slowly turning to face Annette Woolf he said with a roguish grin, “saying occupied.” She felt everyone’s aghast gaze on her. Now they all knew - knew she’d seen him naked. She gathered up her things. “I have to prepare for a lesson,” she said, trying desperately to control the tremble in her voice as she fled from the room.