questions were answered as she parked outside her little house. Jack was home but, as she would see, he wasn’t alone.
5
As Veronica walked into the kitchen, Jack was sitting on a bar-stool at the kitchen island bench with a middle aged pale-skinned woman. Both were sipping from large coffee mugs.
“Hello,” said Veronica, her voice tinged with curiosity and foreboding.
“Hi Mum! This is Mrs. Verlarny,” said Jack with a curious tone of inevitability.
“Hi!” said Veronica. “I’m Veronica Souter.” She held out her hand and the woman took it and clasped it firmly; too firmly for Veronica’s liking. This was a person who felt an over-firm handshake would make you like them instantly: her guard went up like an activated air-bag.
“Good afternoon,” said the woman with a broad smile. “Daphne Verlarny.” The woman was as pale as A4 paper but the name sounded Asian, although Veronica couldn’t be sure; she was slim, conservatively dressed with an undeniable erect and elegant poise. Put on, perhaps?
“I see Jack has made you some coffee,” said Veronica smiling. ‘Well done’ to Jack.
“Actually it’s tea, and very refreshing,” said Daphne Verlarny.
“Mum thinks that tea should only be drunk out of tea cups but they hold so little and one tea bag makes so much,” said Jack in a sing-song voice as if such an attitude could only be expected from today’s mothers.
“And do you think you could make me one too?” asked Veronica.
“I suppose you want a tea cup,” said Jack.
“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Even if she didn’t mind tea in a mug, which she did, she didn’t want to seem to be on this woman’s side, whatever it might be.
“OK,” said Jack, climbing down from his bar-stool and as he walked around the bench into the galley kitchen, Daphne Verlarny said,
“I’m sorry to come without any warning but circumstances and today’s little incident conspired to make this the most convenient option.”
“Little incident?” queried Veronica wishing for a better explanation. “So what....?”
“I was trying to explain to Mrs. Verlarny that it was just a little argument,” began Jack as he climbed on the bench to get the tea cups from a high cupboard.
“Jack, let Ms. Verlarny explain. I think that’s best.”
“Please,” said Mrs. Verlarny, “call me Daphne.”
“So, what’s this all about?” said Veronica in a tone that made it clear that she was already on Jack’s side.
“Do you know Cinnamon Carmody?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes you do, Mum,” said Jack with a little too much annoyance in his voice. “She’s the one I told you about; the one with the plait. I asked you if it had any religious meaning.”
“I don’t remember that Jack, sorry, but can I ask, Ms. Verlarny, what you have to do with this plait business?”
“My apologies, I thought you knew. Jack, haven’t you told your mother about my new job at the school?”
“Y-e-s!” said Jack in that annoying tone again.
“OK. Let’s start again,” said Veronica taking the lead.
“Yes. Of course,” said Mrs. Verlarny, determined to take the reins herself. “I’m Daphne Verlarny, the new Community Relations Officer at the school and Jack and Cinnamon Carmody had a fight in the playground today.”
“A fight?” said Veronica looking over at Jack as he put the cup of tea on the bench for Veronica. She saw that he had reused the tea bag and she wanted a fresh one but saying so would’ve put her off Jack’s side and she wanted firmly to be on Jack’s side, if only to be not on this woman’s side.
“It wasn’t a fight,” said Jack resenting having to say it again. “It was an argument.”
“That’s not what Ms. Brooksbank said, Jack,” countered Mrs. Verlarny.
“Ms. Brooksbank didn’t see anything, she just heard it and made a mistake,” said Jack as he took his seat again.
“Jack, are you saying Ms. Brooksbank is lying?” asked Mrs. Verlarny as she turned her head accusingly in Jack’s direction. Veronica felt a strong urge to slap this woman. It wouldn’t be the last.
“She didn’t see. She wasn’t there. She was around the corner and came to see what all the shouting was about.”
“And, darling, what was all the shouting about?” said Veronica having now sized up the situation and knew exactly how to handle this.
Jack looked at his mother quizzically, she rarely called him ‘darling.’
“I asked her about her plait. I wanted to know why she always wore her hair like that. I thought it was interesting. But I suppose I used the wrong words, or something, because she got upset about what I meant. I dunno. I was just asking.”
“But, Ms. Brooksbank was very sure.....” began Mrs. Verlarny.
“Ms. Verlarny, please,” interrupted Veronica as she held one finger up in front of Mrs. Verlarny’s, now, rather stern face. “Just one moment.”
“Jack, do you like Cinnamon Carmody?”
Jack hung his head a little as she could see his ears redden. “...yes,” he said shyly, “I would never hit her.”
“Does Cinnamon like you?”
Jack looked up sharply at her and his face flushed red. “I dunno. Not any more I think.”
“But I think we have to listen to all......”
“Right,” interrupted Veronica with a knowing smile. “I think it’s pretty clear what has happened here. I’ll have a talk to Jack and I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Well, I’ve actually spoken to Cinnamon’s father. She also comes from a broke ... a single-parent household and he’s available for a meeting late tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh, really?” said Veronica unable to take all the growing anger out of her voice. “Is that completely necessary?”
“He was very upset to hear what happened?”
“And I suppose you told him what you thought had happened?”
“I told him what happened because I was told what happened.”
“So you spoke to her father but not to me? That’s funny; I’m sure my mobile number’s on file at the school.”
“As
