‘I hope you haven’t been quizzing my daughter on her private life, because I can’t say that I see what Claire’s home life has to do with her work, and you tell me that her work is entirely satisfactory.’
‘This is a school, Mr Duvall,’ Katherine informed him with equal coolness. ‘We do not make it a habit to interrogate our pupils. However, what happens in a child’s home has a great deal of bearing on what happens in school. Claire is very reserved, very anxious.’
‘And you’re somehow blaming me for that?’ He shot her a look of scathing dislike.
‘I’m not blaming you for anything,’ she responded acidly. She had never before dealt with a difficult parent. In general, parents who paid for their children’s education took an inordinate delight in their progress. At parent-teacher evenings, they would hang on to her every word.
Dominic Duvall could not have been more unhelpful if he’d tried, and she knew that personal dislike of her would be playing a part in that, though to what extent she had no idea.
‘Let’s get one thing very clear from now,’ he said, leaning forward slightly, and his presence was so overwhelming that she felt herself press back into her chair. ‘Neither you nor anyone else has any business prying into my personal life. Your job here is to educate my daughter, and that’s where your duty ends.’
‘And the fact that we once knew each other has no bearing on what you’re saying now?’ Katherine asked, stirred into making the remark through sheer anger at his attitude. ‘Please don’t let your dislike for me colour your reactions to what I’ve been telling you.’
‘Spare me your schoolmistress speech,’ he snarled, his mouth tight. ‘What happened between us is in the past. If I hadn’t decided to send my daughter to this school, we would never have crossed paths again. The fact that we have, my dear Miss Lewis, is unfortunate, but it’s something we both have to live with. In the meantime, please do not interest yourself in my daughter’s home life.’ He stood up. The meeting, as far as he was concerned, was at an end, and Katherine hastily followed suit, crossly knowing that control had been taken out of her hands.
They went out into the assembly-room, where a group of older children were doing ballet. The piano teacher was banging impatiently on the keys while a handful of girls frowningly concentrated on trying to get their feet into some kind of synchronisation.
Dominic stopped and looked around him with interest, then his eyes flicked across to her.
‘What made you decide to give up your job in advertising?’ he asked, sticking his hands in his pockets and moving on, expecting her to hurry behind him but, she gathered from his attitude, not much caring whether she did or didn’t.
She had to think a bit about what he had said, then she remembered that a job in advertising had all been part of the myth which she had created for herself during those short, heady months of another life.
‘I enjoy teaching,’ she answered awkwardly. ‘And what have you been doing for the past six years?’
They went out into the hall, where some more girls were sitting on the ground, cross-legged, waiting to be collected. Behind them, the wall was one large notice-board—listing school events, displaying paintings done by some of the pupils.
Judith Evans, one of the teachers, was sitting by the doors, trying to keep one eye on the girls while correcting homework. She looked at Katherine, then slid her eyes across to Dominic with great interest.
‘Working,’ he said smoothly, opening the door and stepping outside.
Katherine hesitated, then she stepped out behind him, letting the door shut behind her.
‘Claire mentions that she doesn’t see a great deal of you,’ she began, and he turned on her, his green eyes filled with distaste.
‘I thought that we’d been through all this,’ he said in a hard voice, and Katherine stuck her chin out defensively.
‘You’ve been through all this, Mr Duvall. However, just because you’ve decided on what’s important in Claire’s life and what isn’t, it doesn’t mean that I have agreed.’
He looked her up and down unhurriedly, then said, ‘And you are the final word on what’s best for a child, are you? Tell me, have you any children of your own?’
‘No,’ she admitted in a low voice, lowering her eyes. ‘But I really don’t see what that has to do with it. I have a great deal of experience with children in general.’
‘No children,’ he mused, with enough thick irony in his voice to make her flush with anger. ‘No husband. What happened to the misguided lover?’
She didn’t have to think too hard about that one. She remembered the fictitious lover whom she had hurled at Dominic when he had demanded a reason from her, a reason for leaving.
‘That’s none of your business,’ she muttered, looking away and staring at the playing-fields, where more girls were playing hockey in the distance.
It had never struck her before, but now she thought, how strange, to surround myself with children, children who represent everything that I no longer have—hopes, dreams, a life ahead to be filled with everything I shall never be able to attain.
Would Dominic Duvall ever know just how successfully he had wrecked her life? She would never forgive him for that, even though she knew that the fault for it all lay in her own hands, because she should never have become involved with him in the first place. Not in the way that she had, not fuelled by motives which had seemed so right at the time, but in the end had proved so misguided.
‘Did the grand reconciliation never take place?’ he asked, sarcastic and amused, which made her even angrier. ‘Poor little Katherine Lewis. Or maybe you’re one of those ever-hopeful women, still walking along the garden path, optimistically thinking that she’ll get her man in the end, if only she can hold out for long enough.’ He laughed under his breath, a cruel, jeering sound. ‘Is he still holding out the promises he made to get you back?’ he asked, looking down at her with a smile that was as hard as ice.
‘This is irrelevant,’ Katherine said, trying to sound brisk and instead only managing to sound defensive.
‘Oh, but I’m merely trying to piece you together. Natural human curiosity. You asked me about what I’d been doing over the past six years. Well, I’m merely speculating on what you’ve been doing.’
‘I must get back to the school,’ she said, turning away, but before she could walk off she felt his fingers snap around her arm.
‘What for?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows. ‘To tidy desks?’
‘You may think that what I do is boring,’ she snapped, ‘but teaching is as essential as what you do. A person’s usefulness in life isn’t judged by the amount of money they earn. And kindly remove your hand from me.’
He removed his hand and she drew back, aware with horror that she was shaking like a leaf.
‘Dear me,’ he said, coolly amused, ‘I do hope my questions haven’t upset you.’
‘You hope nothing of the sort, Mr Duvall. And, no, your questions haven’t upset me. They’ve annoyed me.’
She
