With the Headmaster's Approval (13 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The fourteenth of February
fell on a Thursday, but the dance was to be held the following day. On Valentine’s Day Lisa handed Adam the post, which the postman had brought right to her office instead of leaving in the box at the door in order for him to get a few minutes respite out of the freezing weather.

“This one’s from South Africa,” she said, glancing at the stamp. “Will that be from Nicole?”

Adam grinned as he opened the letter to reveal a Valentine’s card. He opened it and laughed and then showed it to Lisa. The front read: ‘
Wild Thing
(she’d underlined
Wild
)
You make my heart sing.’
Inside it said:
‘Out of tune’.

“Every Valentine’s she sends me the most insulting
card she can find,” said Adam. “It’s in retaliation.”

“Why, what did you do to her?”

“When she was about fifteen she was very much into horses, especially when she stayed on our ranch in Texas. She had long hair and tied it up with a ribbon. I told her she’d get bandy legs if she spent so much time riding. That year I sent her a Valentine’s card that said: ‘
To the girl with the ribbon in her hair - and the bow in her legs.’
She knew I’d sent it and was very indignant. She’s never let me forget it.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Lisa, laughing.

The staff
had met with the teachers from the boys’ school to determine who was going to be responsible for the various tasks to do with the dance. One of the male teachers was appointed to watch out for couples trying to sneak off to the gym or empty classrooms. The female teachers were to oversee the drinks and ensure that none were spiked, and they were all tasked to make sure there was no groping on the dance floor.

Adam and Don Shaw had agreed that his prefects be instructed not to allow any of the girls to become wallflowers. For some of the
girls it would be their first dance and Adam didn’t want any of them to be disappointed, although Lisa felt that it could be the boys who became wallflowers as some of the girls were not shy about asking boys out.

The dance committee had chosen the theme of
Grease,
as the musical was set in a school, and the prefects were permitted to begin decorating the hall after the Friday lunch break.  The art and design students from both schools had made posters and there were streamers and balloons pinned to the window blinds. By four o’clock everything was ready and the decorations were approved by Adam.

The dining tables had been brought from the dining room and
placed in the foyer for the food and drinks, which the girls began setting out with colourful cloths at six o’clock. The DJ, an older brother of one of the boys, arrived at the same time and soon squeaks and whistles came from the speakers as he adjusted the sound, which Adam told him to tone down for fear of the police arriving with complaints from the neighbours.

At seven o’clock the weather had set in as
a typical February evening with a cold wind blowing to make the icy weather even colder, which meant coats had to be left in the cloakroom and therefore someone assigned to keep watch for illicit trysts. Kyle Rudd and Dee Taylor volunteered for this duty.

Adam had
asked the staff to leave as much of the arrangements as possible in the charge of the head boy and head girl. Future dances would depend on the success or failure of this one and he wanted that responsibility to lie with them, and not the teachers.

After a shy start the hall soon
began to fill with dancing couples. The girls were dressed in their regulation uniform of yellow blouses with the school badge, and burgundy skirts, some hitched a little higher than the guideline length. A few of them had tried to enhance their appearance by leaving the top buttons of their blouses undone to reveal their budding cleavage, but had soon been told to button up. Glenda McKenzie however, had outsmarted them by going braless and knew that by turning her body at a certain angle a portion of her breasts would be visible through a gap in the buttons. She smirked at Adam, knowing that by saying anything he would have admitted to where his eyes had wandered.

The staff gathered round the snacks table to avoid the loud music in the hall, nibbling on the food that Barbara Crook had provided, which they all admitted was comparable, and probably better, than most catered functions. She confessed that she did some outside catering during weekends and school holidays, but had kept it low profile in case the governing body frowned on it. She was enjoying the compliments, especially from the male teachers who hadn’t previously been treated to her cooking.

The
staff took it in turns to check on the dancers and once or twice Adam moved a boy’s hand that had strayed too low on his partner’s back.  Lisa, concerned about wallflowers, remarked to Adam, “Erica Rawlings has been asked to dance by several of the boys, but she’s refusing. She’s either self-conscious about her leg, or thinks they’re asking out of pity. Can we do anything about it?”

“I’ll go and talk to her,
” he said.

He threaded
his way through the dancers and sat beside Erica, but as he spoke Lisa saw her shake her head. He took her hand and drew her to her feet. Placing his arm round her he slowly propelled her round the room. At first she looked awkward and embarrassed, but Adam was leading her so expertly that her feet seemed to follow his. Soon she was smiling up at him.  He led her back to her seat, but instead of allowing her to sit he handed her over to the deputy head boy, who obviously got the message and led her back onto the dance floor.

“That was cleverly done,” Lisa told him.

“Remember, I have two younger sisters. My father made me chaperone them to dances plenty of times. They could be quite a handful, and although it was uncool, they would rather have danced with their brother than been wallflowers.”

“I see that Sandra Atkins has found herself a boyfriend,” said Lisa, watching the laughing flame-haired girl dancing with her partner. “She seems to have blossomed since Jenna gave her the make-over.”

“It’s a pity we can’t do it for more of the girls,” said Adam

Near
the end of the evening the DJ slowed the dance tempo. He’d been playing a mix of music, including some of the songs from
Grease
. The teachers were relaxed now that everything seemed to have worked out without any major incidents. Jenna, however, had not seemed inclined to join in the fun.

“I take it you disapprove of this dance,” said Adam.

“I’ll reserve my judgement until it’s over and there are no repercussions,” she replied frostily.

He placed
his hand in the small of her back, “Come with me,” he said, and she felt herself being propelled onto the dance floor, the pressure of his hand burning through the thin fabric of her dress as he guided her through the mass of dancers.

His height and presence created an immediate pathway. As they reached the centre of the room he swung her round and she
was suddenly in his arms. She gasped and instinctively put her hand on his chest to push him away, but she was locked in his powerful embrace. Before she could protest he bent his head and whispered in her ear, “Don’t struggle, or you’ll embarrass both of us. I just want to talk to you,” he said, leading her skilfully round the dance floor.

“Why? What could you possibly want to discuss in the middle of a dance in front of the entire school?”

“I don’t want you to run off. It’s the only place where you are forced to listen to me. I know I can’t have this conversation in private because of where it might lead.”

He was holding her so close she couldn’t run anywhere. “Wh
ere what might lead? What are you talking about?”

“Why are you always so angry, so hostile towards me, always sparring and baiting me? What are you afraid of?”

“What makes you think I’m afraid of anything?”

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “I think you’re afraid of your feelings towards me.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

He guided her towards the side of the room where it was less crowded. “Jenna. I know about you and Andy - Andrea.”

“What about Andy?” she said, her heart racing. How could he know? What did he know? They’d been so discreet. They’d never been openly affectionate.

“I know that she’s more than a friend.”

“I think you’ve said enough. Let me go.” She tried to pull away, but she was trapped in his arms.

His mouth was pressed close to her
ear; she could feel his breath on her cheek. “I know that you’re having a sexual relationship with her, and that she loves you. I’ve seen the way her face lights up when you come into the room.”

She
lifted her eyes to his and he returned her level gaze. “But you’re still unsure of your sexuality, aren’t you?” he said.

“So you’re a psychologist as well?”

“I’m very observant – for a man. There’s an attraction between us and I know you feel it. But you don’t want to acknowledge it – and you don’t want Andrea to know you’re bisexual.”

How had he read her so clearly? Sure, she’d had boyfriends, but none of them serious. And then she’d met Andy and thought she knew. And now this man had come into her life and the doubts had returned.

“What do you know about gay love?” she snapped.

He deftly guided them out of the path of a couple before replying softly. “My youngest sister is gay.”

“Is she?” Jenna said doubtfully.

“Do you think I’d lie about something like that? We once shared a girlfriend – albeit unwittingly.”

“I suppose you were trying to convert her to straight.”

He laughed. “Actually, she dated me in order to meet my sister. She was two-timing us.”

“That must have dented your ego.”

“Maybe – a little.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“A gentleman doesn’t tell.”

“That means, yes.”

He considered
for a moment. “Okay. Yes, I did. She was bi.”

“So you were toying with her?”

“Is that what you think I’m doing – toying with your feelings?”

“Are you?”

“Do you want me to?”

She had no answer. She couldn’t deny that she had feelings for him
. He exuded a masculine strength, and the firmness of his body pressing against hers excited her in a way that the soft sensual touch of Andy’s did not. His lips were almost brushing hers as he spoke and she felt the beginnings of arousal deep within her. She urged to rake her fingers through his hair, to feel his lips on hers. The feel and man smell of him was intoxicating – strength, soap, expensive after shave.  The DJ was playing
Hopelessly Devoted to You.
Her head said
Fool, forget him,
but her body betrayed her and desired him in a way that both thrilled and frightened her. She looked deep into his eyes and saw the longing mirrored in his own, and then someone bumped into them and his lips briefly touched hers before he turned to glare at the smirking couple standing beside them.

“Sorry, Sir. Sorry, Miss,” said
Glenda McKenzie as she and her partner moved away with knowing satisfied smiles.

He turned back to Jenna and she murmured,
“What do you want from me?”

“I
want you to stop blocking me, questioning me just because you’re angry at yourself. I want to call a truce. I want you to stop undermining me at every turn.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t aware of it,” she said.

“We’ve got to find a way to work together. Our attraction is a torment we can do nothing about. We’ll both lose our jobs if there’s any, what the governing body call ‘fraternising’.”

The music stopped
and the DJ was thanking everyone.

“I have to go,” he said, his lips almost, but not quite, touching hers. He released her, leaving her with an aching want, with feelings so long suppressed that they shouted for completion. He escorted her off the dance floor and led her to where the rest of the staff were gathered. “Wait here,” he
ordered, and returned to the hall to announce that the dance was over and that none of the girls were to leave unless they were accompanied by a family member or guardian. When he got back Jenna wasn’t there.

“Have you seen Jenna?” he asked Lisa.

“She’s already left. She seemed to be in a bit of a hurry,” she replied.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

On the
Monday morning following the dance Jenna phoned Lisa to say she was feeling unwell and wouldn’t be in for the final two days of term before the February school holiday. It was not like Jenna and Lisa had to re-shuffle her classes leaving Adam to take the computer science class.

When the
gate buzzer sounded and Lisa heard it was Andy she let her in, ready with a smiling greeting expecting to hear news of Jenna. But Andy was not smiling. “Where’s Adam?” she demanded.

“He’s in the schoolyard,” replied Lisa. “Why? Is something wrong?” 

“Yes,” said Andy curtly, and stormed off towards the schoolyard, fear and hurt fuelling her anger.

Adam was discussing the condition of the asphalt with Fred Smith. Some of the junior girls had been making slides in the icy weather and Fred
Smith had put salt down.  Adam was standing at the bottom of the steps in earnest conversation with Fred and didn’t see Andrea approaching.

“You bastard!” she spat out the words through gritted teeth, swinging her leather shoulder bag at his face as he turned to see what the girls were
staring at. He tried to block it, but his arm caught the strap and the bag was carried by its momentum and the heavy metal clasp caught him above the eye. She saw with grim satisfaction that it had drawn blood.

“What the hell?” he said, his hand going up to the wound on his eye.

“D’you know what you’ve done!” she swung the bag again, but this time he was ready for her. He grabbed it, and then his arms were round her legs and she was in a fireman’s lift, her bag swinging impotently in the air.

He carried her up the steps and into the school building
, her fists hammering on his back as she fought to struggle free, dimly aware of the wide-eyed and open-mouthed stares of the girls passing by in the corridor. Then they were out in the car park. He put her down, but she brought her knee up and he had to twist his body to avoid it making contact. His eyes were blazing. She tried to swing at him again, but he caught her wrists in an iron-like grip. “Stop it,” he snarled. “Stop it!” She saw the fury in his face and for a moment she was afraid.

“You’re hurting me,” she pleaded.

He gradually relaxed his grip, but the rage had not left his face. “What the hell d’you think you’re doing!” She stood mute, her anger suddenly spent. “You’ve not only made a spectacle of yourself, but also of me. How long do you think it will be before the board of governors hears about this? I could lose my job.”

She’d sworn she wouldn’t cry, but a sob escaped her lips. “Jenna’s gone.”

“What do you mean – gone?”

“She left a note. She’s gone away for a few days while she sorts out her feelings. And it’s all your fault.”

“What do you mean – my fault?”

“The dance.”

“Oh, God.” He put his hand on his head. “Where’s your car?”

She pointed to a blue hatchba
ck. He marched her over to it. “Get in.”

“You can’t order me to do anything.”

He flung open the door. “I said, GET IN. How many camera phones do you think are trained on us right now?”

She slid into the driver’s seat while he went round to the passenger side and
climbed in beside her, sliding the seat back so he could fold his long legs in. He turned to face her. “Tell me what happened.”

“We’ve talked about spending the rest of our li
ves together,” she said, staring unseeing though the windscreen. “We’d planned our future. And then you came along.”

He sighed. “Look at me, Andy.” But she wouldn’t look at him. He took her arm. “Andrea. Look at me.” Finally she turned
to face him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. All I wanted was for her to stop being so hostile towards me, and to stop trying to undermine me.”

“So you set out to seduce her.”

“No. That’s ridiculous.  I did no more than dance with her.” He was quiet for a moment and she saw his expression soften. “I didn’t realise there was such a strong chemistry between us. But there can never be a relationship as we could both lose our jobs.  Jenna is a good teacher and the girls like and respect her. But it’s obvious that she is bisexual. You’re going to have to live with that. But you have nothing to fear from me.”

Blood was oozing down his face. He took out a handkerchief and dabbed at the wound.

“You’d better come up with a good reason for calling me a bastard – one that doesn’t smack of a lover spurned, or Jenna and I might both lose our jobs,” he said.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t want to lose Jenna
, I love her so much. I’ll tell everyone it was a complete misunderstanding.”

Fred Smith would later tell his wife, “I don’t know what Mr Wild did to make her so angry, but she hit him a fair cropper with her bag. And then he picked her up and marched her into the school
and out to the car park.”

“Oh dear,” sympathised Brenda. “I expect he wanted to get her somewhere private, you know, where the girls couldn’t overhear.”  She expected it would become the talking point of the kitchen, but she wasn’t going to start any gossip or speculation on what had occurred.  She liked Mr Wild, he always had a kind word with the kitchen staff. He wasn’t stuck up like some of the teachers
. He took you for what you were. But then again, he was American and didn’t know about the British class system. And he’d been good to Fred, discussing the problems of the machinery man to man, in a way Miss Edwards never could.

Lisa didn’t ask what had happened, and Adam didn’t offer an explanation
for the plaster over his eye. Even Barbara Crook refrained from comment. But she knew it must have something to do with Jenna. After the school holiday she found an opportunity to probe.

During the morning break on the first day back Barbara Crook was leafing through her latest magazine when she found an item of interest. “Listen to this,” she commanded, folding the magazine to more securely anchor the page as they dutifully looked in her direction. “It says that in a recent survey seventy percent of people have fantasies about sleeping with a co-worker?”

They all
hurriedly glanced down again, afraid to catch Adam’s eye, studiously returning to whatever they’d been doing. But Lisa had seen the darting glance exchanged between Adam and Jenna, and she knew that Barbara Crook had also seen it.

“And
fifty percent have fantasised about sleeping with their boss,” she added, looking directly at Jenna.

“Do the stats mention the percentage if the co-workers are of the same gender?” asked Adam
from behind his newspaper.

“No, I don’t think they do,” she replied.

“And do they mention how many carry through on that fantasy?” asked Kate O’Brien, feeling obliged to keep up with matters of a sexual nature in order to stay ahead of the girls.

Barbara
Crook scanned through the article. “It says that sixty percent have slept with a co-worker,” she replied.

“I can vouch for that,” snorted Lauren Mathews. “My husband ran off with his secretary.”

“That could involve sexual harassment,” said Kate O’Brien. “Perhaps I should include it in sex education and warn the girls how to handle it.”

“Sexual harassment can work both ways,” said Adam, lowering his newspaper. “There was a case of a woman boss
who was charged for sexual harassment of a younger male employee.”

Barbara Crook was about to reply when Adam’s phone rang.  He glanced at the screen with a worried frown.  “It’s Polly,” he said to Lisa
, getting up and moving towards the door, “She never calls me here. I hope nothing has happened to Jack.”

When Lisa returned to her office she saw Adam hunched over
his laptop.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Apparently Nicole is in hospital in South Africa. They thought she could have meningitis and sent her to hospital as a precaution, but it turned out to be tick-borne disease. I’m looking it up so I can calm Polly. She’s ready to pack her suitcase.”

“Perhaps Andy would know something. She’s from South Africa,” said Lisa, and then remembered their altercation and quickly added, “But she was a schoolgirl when she left and probably wouldn’t remember.”

“In the States you can get Rocky Mountain spotted fever from a tick-bite and it can be quite severe,” he said. He was reading from the screen, “It says that African tick-bite fever is usually mild and death and serious complications are uncommon.”

“That’s a relief,” said Lisa.

“I’d better phone Polly. Nicole has probably spoken to her, but I think she’ll be more reassured if I tell her myself. Nicole used to be a real tomboy and would dismiss all cuts and grazes as ‘nothing serious’ even when they required stitches.”   

Adam later reported that Polly had spoken to Nicole and she was coming home for a short holiday in order to recover.

“That will please Polly,” said Lisa. “She must miss Nicole.”

“Yes, we all do,” said Adam.