the bike incident and the brick. But that just made Bennett’s allegation sound as though it had more merit, so I kept quiet.
She looked relieved. ‘I knew it would be, Elliott, but unfortunately we have to follow procedures, as you know, when this happens. I’ll get you to write up exactly what occurred and I’m going to have to inform LADO too.’ She was referring the Local Authority Designated Officer, appointed to look into any issues to do with safeguarding.
This was such bullshit. What a waste of time for everyone concerned.
Trying to quash the weariness I was feeling from my voice, I said, ‘Of course. I’ll get onto it.’
I had a strong desire to slink out of the office and go straight home but I forced myself to head down to my classroom. My hands were throbbing and my back hurt. Today was not shaping up well so far.
Halfway down the corridor I saw Zoe, who made that face again.
‘You okay?’ she said.
‘Yeah. Tell you about it later.’
I got my class started on their English project, which this term was all tied up with a Viking theme, hence the visit to the museum. They were writing letters to their families at home as Viking settlers.
Ryan Reece, the class wag, shouted out, ‘Sir? Do Vikings rape and pillinge?’ to which I gently put him right on the word ‘pillage’ and got round any tricky issues by telling them that some historians felt their bad boy reputation had been exaggerated a little.
It was hard to focus though, that morning. I kept thinking about the complaint that Lee Bennett had made. Writing it all out was just going to be a drain on my time. And what for? It was such a pointless sort of disagreement, over nothing. I was angry with myself too. I knew that if I hadn’t been sarcastic with him, he wouldn’t have taken such grave offence.
It was something that used to occasionally get me in trouble at school, this need to make the smart comeback, both with teachers and other pupils. I knew that I did it, yet somehow I still never managed to rein it in. This was the first time I’d had a complaint like this though.
While the class had a rare five minutes of quietly getting on with their work, I opened a document and started to make a note of what had happened yesterday morning. I felt uneasy when I remembered what I said to Jackie, that I hadn’t physically touched Tyler at all. Was it too late to say so now? I made a decision. I’d include it in the report and deal with the fact that I remembered differently when I gave it to her.
The other thing I intended to do was find out what sort of car Lee Bennett drove. Because if he was in such a strop that he was prepared to knock me off my bike for it, I might have an even greater problem than I first realized.
At the end of the day I lurked in the playground on the guise of checking an outdoor display of bamboo fencing that last year’s upper school had made. Tyler was late coming out and I wondered if he had been given a telling-off as he crossed the playground, all slouch and sad-sack trousers. His thick, pale ankles with pooled off-white socks ended in a pair of non-regulation trainers. He held his trendy but impractical messenger bag so low that it scuffed along the surface of the playground.
I pretended I was looking around but kept one eye on the gate for any signs of Lee. And there he was. Standing just outside and smoking a fag, which he extinguished and chucked onto the pavement. His expression didn’t change when he saw his son, but he rubbed his knuckles on the boy’s head in a way that looked mildly uncomfortable.
They began to walk off towards a side road and I was willing to bet that was where, like many of the local parents, he parked his car. I hurried across the playground to follow them, ignoring another parent’s attempt to catch my attention. I caught sight of Milly, a reception teacher, who was watching me for some reason, but I ignored her too and hurried out of the gate before I lost sight of them.
I was about to dash across the road when a white Range Rover, driving far too quickly, screeched to a halt by the yellow zigzags outside the school gates, about two feet from me.
A woman with oversized sunglasses and even bigger hair was glowering at me over the steering wheel, as if I was the unreasonable person in this scenario.
‘Hey,’ I called. ‘This is a school! You don’t drive like that on this road. You could kill a child!’
She made a ‘wanker’ gesture at me. I crossed the road and I find myself calling, ‘Yeah? Well you too,’ as she drove away.
A couple of parents clucked sympathetically at me, but I was too distracted to respond. I hurried into Caversham Road and cursed when I saw that I had missed them. Two cars were currently having a standoff, not wanting to give way, and there was a lot of angry honking and beeping. I swear half these families lived within a five-minute walking radius. We used to give out badges to reward children for walking to school but then we discovered that a small number were being encouraged to lie about it by their parents on the basis that they were otherwise ‘missing out’.
I quickened my pace just in case they were on the next road up. The pavement was thick with parents, buggies, and children of various ages and so I said, ‘’Scuse me, ’scuse me,’ as I made my way through them.
It suddenly felt imperative that I found them, and I began to run as the pavement became emptier. I turned the corner into the road at the top and almost collided with a man who was leaning against the wall there and making a phone call.
Of course, it was him.
Tyler was standing next to him, kicking at a stone with a scrunched brow of concentration.
Lee Bennett’s eyes widened, and he moved away from the wall with a fluid push from his foot.
‘Call you back,’ he said, then, more aggressively, ‘You looking for someone?’
‘No, I, er …’ My brain went blank. I couldn’t think of a thing to say and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘I’m just …’ I waved my hand ineffectually as I fought for sensible words. ‘I needed to give a message to a … another parent.’
Bennett swept his arm around in an exaggerated gesture. ‘No one else here, mate,’ he said.
I decided I had nothing to lose. ‘No car today?’
He frowned and pulled his head back a little. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Nothing at all.’
Face still burning, I turned away and could hear him say to Tyler, ‘You stay away from him. I don’t like him.’
Anya was late home that evening and I used the time to finish writing up a report for Jackie on what had happened with Bennett. I left out our uncomfortable exchange earlier that day because I had no idea how to explain what I had been doing.
I kept thinking about Tyler’s sad crumpled socks and pasty ankles. It made me wonder how I would have presented to the world at that age.
After the invitation to come in for cottage pie, Mrs Mack invited me in once or twice a week. She usually invented some sort of task that needed doing; replacing
