Suspicion Page 2
What I refrained from telling Rosie was that I would have liked a family, but Nick had always been interested in his career to the exclusion of all else. I didn’t really mind. It wasn’t as though we were delaying the decision to have a child for nothing. On the contrary, Nick’s ambition had served us so well that, at the age of thirty-eight, he had gained the coveted post of Head of Edleybury. And we still had time. I was only thirty-six. For years we had schemed and worked towards him gaining a headship. Now that our hard work had finally paid off, it was hard to see how anyone could cope with bringing up children while married to the head of a thriving boarding school. The previous summer we had travelled to Japan where well-off families were increasingly looking to send their children to boarding school in England, and Nick was planning a future trip to China. Our lives were full enough without any more responsibilities.
I met Rosie’s gaze with an equable smile. ‘Nick and I have over eight hundred pupils in our care. I think you’ll agree that’s enough children for anyone! Nick is dedicated to his work.’
‘Not to you?’
Her quick response made me wonder whether my words had betrayed an underlying wistfulness, but I kept my voice steady.
‘We’re a partnership. I admire what Nick does, and am happy to support him in his work.’ That was an understatement.
Chapter 3
‘Okay, that’ll do.’ Switching off her dictaphone, Rosie leaned back and her polished smile broadened into a grin. ‘I think I’ve got everything I need. You’ve been a brick. Thanks so much. A photographer will be along tomorrow to take a few pictures of you and your husband together, perhaps outside on the lawn if it’s not raining, and then we’ll need a headshot of your husband and a picture of him at his desk. I’ll come along as well, to make sure we get everything we need, so I’ll see you in the morning.’ Rising, she straightened her back, her close-fitting navy trousers emphasising her slim hips. ‘It’s not good to sit still for too long. I hope you didn’t find my questions impertinent. I was just looking for a human touch, you know.’
‘I hope you weren’t disappointed with my answers,’ I responded stiffly.
‘Not at all. I’m sure readers will find your comments very engaging.’
Apart from a couple of slightly awkward moments, my first serious interview as a head’s wife had gone smoothly. In fact, I had quite enjoyed talking to Rosie. It wasn’t often that people were interested in me.
Leaving the building, I passed David, the deputy head, in the courtyard.
‘How did your interview go today?’ he asked.
‘Fine. We talked about Nick, and his dedication to the school.’
David nodded. ‘That’s good. But I’m sure she was interested in you as well. The woman’s angle and all that.’
‘We touched on my role as Nick’s wife. She said she was looking for a human touch.’
‘A human touch,’ he repeated, with a benevolent smile. ‘I’m sure you were charming.’
Despite his faintly patronising way of speaking, David was a kind man. With a large square head and broad shoulders, he resembled a human teddy bear but, although he was not tall, he had an imposing presence that could be intimidating. In his forties and single, he had spent his life in the company of boys. It was no doubt a consequence of his blinkered experience that he addressed adults as though they were children, but he was that rare paradigm among teachers, a successful disciplinarian, both feared and adored by pupils. He had been at Edleybury for almost his entire career and his devotion to the school was obvious.
Nick had expressed his admiration for the deputy head to me on more than one occasion.
‘It’s one thing telling me, but have you told David? I’m sure he’d like to know how much you value his input.’
‘Oh, I think he knows,’ Nick had replied vaguely. ‘And I’ll certainly pay tribute to his contribution in my end-of-year speech. Everyone knows what an important role he plays in maintaining discipline without which we’re nowhere. It would be Lord of the Flies in our quaint bubble in rural Hertfordshire.’ He chuckled. ‘That sad little character in Year Nine, you know the one I mean, Bertrand who’s always running to the medical centre in tears, he’d be the first to be torn limb from limb. I know David’s stamping down on the lads who have been giving him such a hard time, but some kids are just natural victims.’
‘That’s a bit harsh.’
‘I wouldn’t say it to anyone but you, but we all know it’s true. The lads do bully him, but there are always two sides to every story.’
‘Sometimes more than two,’ I muttered, more to myself than to Nick.
‘If only David didn’t have such fixed ideas,’ Nick added thoughtfully.
‘Is that a problem?’
‘Not for me,’ Nick replied with a smile. ‘I’m the headmaster so he’ll back my plans, whether he agrees with them or not. His trouble is that he’s been here too long, and he’s set in his ways. But he’ll come round.’
That evening Nick came home late, flung himself into an armchair in the living room, and loosened his tie. ‘So, there’s a photographer from the Hertfordshire Style coming tomorrow morning, and then we’re done. I must say, David did us a favour.’
‘How so?’
‘It was David who arranged the interview. He knew the journalist from somewhere, I forget where, and he suggested she contact us.’
Although Nick didn’t comment any further, I knew he was pleased to be featured in the annual educational supplement of the glossy county magazine. While I was content to hover in the background, Nick was always courting publicity for himself and the school. I sometimes wondered whether it was his sense of responsibility to the school, or his ego, that made him so hungry for attention. But knowing how hard he had fought to get this job, I understood his drive to succeed. In a competitive market place, even an established school relied heavily on marketing.
The following day was sunny again. I chose my outfit for the photographs carefully: a knee length summer dress, smart yet casual, and kitten heels. Rosie was waiting for me in the school reception area with the photographer, and together the three of us went to Nick’s office.
While the photographer was busy with Nick, Rosie asked me quietly if she could have a word with me. Assuming there was a question she had forgotten to ask during our interview the previous day, I led her into the outer office where she closed the door.
‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ she said, addressing me in a low hurried tone, and standing with her back to the door.
She looked agitated. Her eyes flicked around the room and she licked her lips nervously.
Waiting for her explanation, I began to share her unease, but I maintained the dignity appropriate at all times to the wife of a headmaster of a public school. ‘Please, take a seat.’
She stepped forward and sat down with a jolt, twisting her fingers in her lap, and avoiding my eye.
‘What was it you wanted to ask me?’ I prompted her at last, glancing at my watch.
Rosie shook her head and sighed. ‘This is so difficult. It’s not a question actually. But there’s something I need to tell you. That is, I feel I ought to share it because it’s not fair for you, of all people, to be kept in the dark.’
‘I’m listening.’
She glanced around. ‘We won’t be disturbed in here, will we?’
I shook my head, wondering what could possibly prompt such caution. She seemed very different to the confident journalist who had interviewed me the previous day as, clearing her throat, she uttered the most shocking words I had ever heard.
Chapter 4
‘What do you mean?’ Rising to my feet, I glanced at the door to make sure no one could overhear this gossip. ‘That’s impossible. I’ve never heard anything so outrageous. You couldn’t be more wrong.’
‘I’m not wrong,’ she replied simply.
As though confronting an insolent pupil, I sat down and forced myself to remain calm, my voice level, my
hands folded neatly in my lap. ‘No, that’s nonsense. My husband’s not like that. I would have known if there was anything going on.’
Rosie shook her head. Looking askance at me through her long fringe, she repeated her accusation, adding, ‘A wife is often the last person to know when her husband’s seeing someone else.’
Even acknowledging the truth of her last remark, I was adamant that she must be mistaken.
‘I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you,’ she said quietly. ‘To be honest, I assumed you already knew, or at least had a pretty good idea. Surely you must have suspected something?’
Swallowing my anger, I dismissed the idea with a wave of my hand, as though swatting away an annoying fly. Apart from the fact that I trusted Nick when he told me he loved me, he couldn’t possibly have time to be carrying on with another woman. An ambitious man, he thought of nothing but his career. Rosie’s defamation of my husband’s character was a deliberate attempt to undermine his position. All the same, I had to prevent her from mentioning it to anyone else. Gossip spread rapidly in a closed community like Edleybury.
‘Where is this alleged affair supposed to be taking place?’ I asked with a deliberate sneer in my voice.
Admittedly Nick and I weren’t together every minute of the day, but the school was close knit. Like us, many of the teachers lived on site, in the boarding houses with the pupils, or in designated staff accommodation, a row of houses forming an imitation street in the grounds. There were bound to be rumours flying around if there was any hint of a scandal, especially one involving the headmaster.
‘And what makes you think he’s having an affair?’ I demanded, my voice rising as I struggled to control my irritation.
‘I saw something.’
‘Oh, you saw something. So tell me, because I’m really curious, how would you have stumbled on this when no one else knows about it?’ I stood up, finally losing my temper, but still keeping my voice low. ‘How dare you come here and make these ridiculous allegations to me, of all people. Did you really believe I was going to take your derisory slander seriously?’
‘I’m telling you because you have a right to know. You don’t have to believe me, but I’m an investigative journalist. It’s my job to discover the truth.’
Fabricating a scandal in order to make her name as a newshound was contemptible. Even if it was immediately discredited, an accusation like that could ruin my husband’s reputation. For a moment, I was too furious to speak.
‘You’re interviewing head teachers and their spouses for a feature in a magazine,’ I pointed out coldly, when I had regained my composure sufficiently to respond. ‘That’s hardly investigative journalism.’
‘You don’t have to believe a word I say, but I felt I ought to let you know.’
She explained that during the course of his interview with her, Nick had been called out of the room.
‘I was left on my own in his office, sitting beside his desk.’ She hesitated. ‘The top drawer was open and I noticed a handwritten note. It caught my eye because ... because it was written on pink paper.’
Although I knew she was making it up as she went along, I had to admit she was convincing. Listening, I wondered if she believed her own lies.
‘So I took a screenshot of it on my phone.’
‘You had no right to do that! Delete the photo at once. How dare you go snooping–’
‘Here you are,’ she said, holding out her phone. ‘Take a look for yourself.’
Against my better judgement, I glanced at the screen. The image appeared to show a rather passionate love note.
‘But it’s not addressed to anyone.’
As relief swept through me, I realised that her allegation had actually disturbed me quite considerably, in spite of my protestations to the contrary. I had noticed the way female members of staff clustered around Nick, hanging on his words and giggling at his jokes. He dismissed my concerns with a laugh, assuring me that the young teachers were currying favour in the hopes of gaining promotion or glowing references, and their attentions meant nothing to him. If anything, he said, he found them irksome. But having witnessed how he enjoyed their banter, I was uneasy. Anyone could be susceptible when tempted. Far better to avoid temptation than gamble with what fragile happiness we had.
Knowing my own suspicions were foolish and unfounded, I dismissed Rosie’s allegation with a careless shrug. ‘It could have been meant for anyone. There’s nothing to suggest it has anything to do with Nick.’
‘It was in his drawer. Why would I make up something like this?’ She held out her phone again. ‘Here, take another look.’
Shaking my head, I turned away from her. ‘I’m not in the slightest bit interested in your malicious scandalmongering. It’s time to rejoin my husband.’
The photographer had completed the shoot, and Nick chatted easily with the journalists, heedless of my silence. Watching him shake hands with Rosie, I kept quiet as he smiled at her and thanked her for her time, unaware that she had tried to stitch him up for the sake of a story.
‘I’ll email you,’ Rosie muttered to me as she was leaving.
Giving her a frosty smile, I said nothing.
Although I did my best to put Rosie’s accusation out of my mind, it rankled. It was difficult to stick to my decision to ignore what I had seen, and that night I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the note, neatly written on pink paper. There was no way that message could be misinterpreted, but it might have been intended for anyone. There was no reason to suppose it had anything to do with Nick, just because it had been seen in his desk. There was only a very slim chance that Rosie had drawn the correct conclusion. On the other hand, if she was right perhaps everyone at Edleybury knew that my husband was having an affair – everyone but me that is. As Rosie had pointed out, a wife is often the last person to know when her husband is seeing someone else.
The following afternoon I had arranged to play tennis with one of the PE teachers at the end of the school day. It was lovely weather for a game, bright but not too warm, with a gentle breeze sending clouds scudding across the sky to offer us some shelter from the sun which would otherwise have beaten down on us remorselessly. The conditions were perfect, yet I did not play well. Rosie’s words kept running through my head: ‘I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you, but your husband’s having an affair.’
‘You’re a bit off your game today,’ my tennis partner, Angela, called out.
‘Sorry.’
Not wanting to spoil the game for her, I focused on the ball. It wouldn’t be much fun for my opponent if I failed to return a single serve, but it was an effort to pull myself back into the game, and I was relieved when it unexpectedly began to rain and we scurried off the court, passing a cluster of Japanese sixth formers hurrying towards one of the boarding houses.
‘We ought to do more to encourage them to integrate,’ Angela muttered as the boys went by, chattering in their native language.
Although my partner was older than me, she was a skilled tennis player, and moved effortlessly around the court. I had never been particularly good at sports, unlike my sister who had captained the girls’ football team at school and had played in the netball team. It could easily have been embarrassing to be so outclassed on the tennis court, but Angela was generous enough to say she enjoyed playing with me, and she had the knack of putting me at my ease. In short, she was an excellent coach, feeding me simple shots and shouting encouragement rather than trying to win, although we both knew she could beat me without breaking into a sweat if she chose.
More interesting to me was the fact that, living on site, she was abreast of all the current gossip and often filled me in on what was being said about other members of staff. We had a good giggle over most of it.
‘What’s the latest on the Edleybury grapevine?’ I asked her.
‘Not a lot.’
A housemaster’s wife was said to be having affair with a member of the PE department.
‘Of course there’s not a word of truth in it, but I had you going for a minute there, didn’t I.’ She laughed. ‘You’d be surprised at the stories the pupils make up.’
‘I have worked in a school before. In my last place I was supposed to be a rampant lesbian, even though I’m happily married.’
‘Oh yes, they’ll have some story about you circulating by now. Last I heard, I’m supposed to be shagging David, along with most of the female staff, including Dot from the kitchen.’ She laughed again. ‘Teenage boys don’t seem to be able to get their heads around the fact that a man can be happily single, and that it’s actually possible for adults to be both healthy and celibate. I am, for one. I suppose I’d rather be with someone, as long as it was the right person, but I’m perfectly content to live alone. That’s teenage boys for you. They have to pair us off together and have us shagging like rabbits. They just assume everyone is obsessed with sex.’
‘Has David always been single?’
She nodded. ‘There was supposed to be some girlfriend working in France, but I think he invented her for his application.’
‘Application?’
‘Yes, you know he applied for the headship when William retired?’
‘Surely David knows they don’t appoint internal candidates to headships.’
She shrugged. ‘I guess he just thought he’d throw his hat into the ring, because you never know, do you?’ She grinned. ‘He dragged some woman into school and made out she was his girlfriend, but they didn’t seem like a couple. When he brought her to the staff dining room and put his arm round her, they both looked pretty uncomfortable.’ Angela chuckled at the memory. ‘He made out they were planning to get married, but once he knew he hadn’t got the job we never heard a word about her again. Apparently, they had conveniently ‘split up’, once he no longer needed to parade her around as his pretend fiancée. Sad and pathetic really.’