The Mummyfesto (22 page)

‘There’s no need to be facetious, Mrs Sugden.’

‘It’s Ms, actually,’ I said, no longer caring about rubbing him up the wrong way. ‘And I was simply pointing out that if you have a student who is different to their peers, suggesting that they should adapt to become more accepted is not a particularly inclusive policy.’

Freeman looked down his nose at me. Any pretence that he welcomed the opportunity to discuss this matter had gone. I got the distinct impression that he was trying to think of the fastest way of getting me out of his office.

‘I can only reiterate, Ms Sugden, that we do not tolerate bullying of any kind at this school and I can assure you that none takes place on our premises. What your daughter and her friends get up to out of school is really a matter which you need to resolve with the parents concerned.’

‘You’re well aware, Mr Freeman, that there’s a history of bullying in my daughter’s case. The school has a duty to safeguard its pupils. I don’t believe you’re taking that duty seriously enough.’

‘Should you have any evidence that your daughter is being bullied on school premises, please do let me know and I assure you it will be dealt with appropriately. In the meantime, as I’ve made clear, I’m afraid it really is an external matter.’

He nodded at me and stood up. Charlotte was right. It had been a waste of time. He clearly didn’t want the hassle and had somehow managed to make me think that I was to blame.

‘I’m an adolescent counsellor, Mr Freeman,’ I said, as I stood up. ‘I spend my time trying to repair the damage caused by this sort of thing. It would be nice to think that schools were genuinely interested in the well-being of their pupils, because whether things happen inside or outside the school gates, that child’s education is still affected.’

I walked out of his office and down the corridor, propelled by indignation and anger. My instinct was to find Charlotte, drag her out of the classroom and take her home with me. I didn’t want her to be here any more. I wanted her to be loved and valued for who she was. Most of all I wanted her to be protected.

I knew I couldn’t do that, though. Knew she would never forgive me and it would only make things worse. But I still hated leaving her there. Still brushed away the tears as I walked out of the gates. Still wished I was bringing her home from hospital, wrapped snugly in a blanket, David at my side, with a look on his face which proclaimed that he was going to look after us both and protect us from harm. No matter what.

‘Esme, no handstands indoors, please,’ I said, glancing through the open kitchen door to the hall where her upside-down face was turning pinker by the second.

‘Ohhhh,’ she said coming down straightaway, but
knocking a pot plant off the hall table as she did so. ‘Ooopps.’

‘Come and get the dustpan and brush please,’ I called out.

‘Do I have to?’

‘Yes. We clear up after ourselves in this house, thank you.’

Esme bounded into the kitchen, grabbed the dustpan and brush and danced out again, her ability to bounce back from such mishaps was the one positive thing about it all.

I glanced at Charlotte who was sitting at the kitchen table with a history textbook in front of her and a faraway look in her eyes. I hadn’t had the chance to tell her about my visit to Mr Freeman since she’d come home. Or maybe it was more that I’d been putting it off. The thought of telling her that her school had washed its hands of its responsibilities didn’t exactly appeal to me.

‘I’ll run you down to choir practice, if you like,’ I said, ‘being as it’s tipping down.’

‘I’m not going,’ she said, without looking up from the book.

‘Why?’ I knew why, of course. I guess I’d been half expecting it. I’d seen it so many times in the teenagers I worked with. But I still wanted to hear how she dealt with the question.

‘I just can’t seem to fit it in any more,’ she said. ‘Not with all my school work.’ It was a predictable answer, if not an entirely honest one.

‘I’m sure we could make time for it,’ I said. ‘You’ve always enjoyed choir so much. It would be a shame to waste that beautiful voice.’

Charlotte closed her textbook. Her hair was hanging down in front of her face, but I could still see her eyes welling with tears. I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her.

‘Don’t let them win, love,’ I said. ‘Don’t stop doing the things you love, being the person you are.’

‘I just need to get them off my back,’ she said, her voice quavering.

‘Then be yourself,’ I said. ‘Be proud of how special you are. I know it’s hard, but every time they say something which hurts you, try to remember that it’s not going to last forever. And that you’ll so regret it when you’re older if you let them change who you are and who you’re going to become.’

Charlotte sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. ‘I can’t go now,’ she said. ‘My face is a mess. I’ll go next week.’

I nodded and squeezed her shoulders. Scared that by next week there’d be another excuse but knowing I had to stay with her. That she had to have someone who believed in her.

‘How did you get on at the school?’ asked David later, when they were all in bed.

‘Not good,’ I said. ‘It was pretty much what I expected.
Freeman basically said if it’s not happening on school premises they don’t want to know.’

‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘I know. That’s what I told him.’

David put his mug down on the coffee table, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. ‘So what happens now?’ he asked.

I shrugged. ‘We pull her out of school.’

‘We can’t do that.’

‘We can’t leave her there either. There’ll be nothing left of her soon. That’s why she didn’t go to choir practice this evening. Because it’s something else they take the piss out of.’

‘Did she say that?’

‘She didn’t have to.’

‘Are you sure you’re not reading too much into this? I mean all teenagers go through phases don’t they? Falling out with each other. Especially girls of that age.’

‘David, these girls weren’t even her friends to start with.’

‘Has she got any friends?’ I stared at him. It appeared to be a genuine question.

‘Well, Emily, obviously. But she’s no use to her at a different school, is she?’

‘Can’t we get Lotte into her school?’

‘It’s a grammar school, David.’

He nodded and sighed. ‘I always said she should have done the eleven plus.’

‘Oh cheers.’

‘What?’

‘Well that makes it sound as if the whole thing is my fault.’

‘I’m simply saying that the argument about this school being part of the community and having a creative curriculum doesn’t seem so strong right now.’

I stared at the far wall. He was saying it was my fault. The argument he was talking about had been mine. The grammar school had seemed formal and stuffy when we’d looked around. David hadn’t thought so, but then he’d gone to a very similar school himself. The worst thing about it was that he was probably right. Maybe she would have been happier there. And maybe I should have seen that. Maybe I’d failed her.

‘We can’t change the past now,’ I said, switching to counselling mode to avoid beating myself up. ‘All we can do is try to work out a way forward.’

‘Well, if it’s not a school matter we should get the police involved.’

‘No. Charlotte would never forgive us. I don’t want to lose her trust.’

‘So what do you suggest?’

‘Like I said, we pull her out of school. We could home educate.’

‘And how are you going to have the time to do that?’

I didn’t know what was worse. The fact that he’d said it or the fact that judging from the look on his face he had no idea what was wrong with what he’d said.

‘Who said it was going to be me?’ I said it quietly, more
out of disappointment than anything. David looked across at me as if I’d said something utterly ridiculous.

‘Well I can’t give up my job, can I?’

‘And you think I can?’

‘You’re the one who suggested home-educating.’

‘I was thinking we could maybe do it between us.’ David made a soft snorting sound. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Have you forgotten that you’re about to stand as a candidate in the general election? Where exactly do you propose you’ll fit in home education?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t got that far yet. But I’d find a way.’

‘The only way would be to forget the whole idea of standing.’

I stared straight ahead again, unable to look David in the eye. ‘And you think that’s what I should do?’

‘I think I’ve made my views on the subject quite clear, Anna.’

I wanted to say, ‘Is it b’coz I is a woman?’ in Will’s fake Ali G voice. I didn’t think David would appreciate it though.

‘That’s not how I’d have reacted if you were standing, is it?’

‘No, but that would be entirely different. I’ve been active in politics all my life.’

‘So have I. Life is politics.’

David rolled his eyes. ‘It’s not as if it’s actually going to achieve anything.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘You’ve got no supporter base. You’ll just be one of these novelty candidates.’

I waited to hear him say we were on a level with the Monster Raving Loony Party. I suspected he had been, but the natural instinct for self-preservation must have kicked in because he stopped himself.

‘I’m not doing this for a giggle, David. This is serious. I’m fighting for things I believe in. We all are.’

‘And what about fighting for your family?’

I jumped up from the sofa like a cat who’d had its tail sat on. ‘Who was at the school today? Who took time off work to do that?’ I was aware that my finger was jabbing in the direction of David’s face. He was lucky I didn’t have my claws out.

‘Yes and I appreciate that,’ said David, adopting a deep, measured tone, presumably in order to highlight the screechy nature of my voice. ‘But the fact remains that our daughter is being bullied at school and our son appears to prefer hanging out with some dubious characters in the park, rather than applying himself to his revision. And when you look at which one of us has the qualifications and experience to deal with those issues, it appears very much to fall to you.’

I stared at him. Desperately searching his face for any hint of the man I’d fallen in love with. A man who, yes, had always had a rather serious demeanour and whose formidable intellect had sometimes allowed him to stray into patronising territory without realising it, but a man who’d also had a heart and soul.

I wanted to say something, but there was nothing I could say. I was empty inside. I picked up my mug and walked towards the door. He didn’t say anything. Just picked up the remote and turned
Newsnight
on.

I was the first to arrive at Sam’s house. Rob let me in.

‘She’ll be down in a minute,’ he said. ‘Oscar’s pulling the “but it’s your turn to read a story” string.’

I smiled and nodded. ‘How’s work going?’

‘Oh, you know. Just about paying the mortgage.’

‘No, I meant your painting. Your art work.’

‘Oh,’ said Rob, grinning. ‘People don’t usually class that as proper work.’

‘You’ve got a degree in it, haven’t you? It’s what you love doing.’

‘Yeah. It’s just not exactly lucrative. Unless you’re David Hockney or Damien Hirst that is.’