Chapter 34
Emma
The gossip at school is off the scale since word got out that Henry’s been suspended.
I can hardly choke down a mouthful at breakfast the next morning, although that might have something to do with the fact that Mum’s flying into Edinburgh this afternoon.
Since Henry took the rap for me, it’s his parents who’ve been invited to a meeting—a virtual one—with Mrs. Sinclair, but Mum insisted on coming over anyway, once I told her what had really happened.
Tori and Sinclair are understandably speechless. And they still are when I finally tell them, in the dining room, what really happened with those exam papers. We’re late, and most of the seats around us are already empty.
“But that is his office,” says Sinclair. “If that’s where he told you to go, why wasn’t he there, and why did he leave the exam papers lying around?”
I shrug. “He says he told me a different room, 2150.”
Tori nods. “That’s the little meeting room. I’ve had to see him there before.”
“But I could have sworn he told me to go to his office.” I lower my voice slightly as a couple of fifth-formers walk past us.
“He did.”
I jump a mile. Tori, Sinclair, and I all whirl around simultaneously. Grace is standing behind us. She’s still holding her tray.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in on you. But he really did say that. It was the other day when he filled in for Ms. Ventura in chemistry, wasn’t it? I heard him mention his office.”
I stare at Grace. “What room number did he say? Do you remember that too?”
“2350,” she says, without a second’s hesitation.
I turn to Sinclair and Tori. “You see?”
“Maybe he made a mistake,” Tori suggests.
Sinclair looks at me. And then he says what I’ve been thinking. “Or maybe he did it on purpose.”
“Why would he do that if the exam papers were in his office . . .” Tori stops. Her eyes dart from Sinclair to me and back again. “Hold the bus, are you saying . . . ?”
“So that Emma would see them,” Sinclair says.
“Wasn’t the door locked?” Grace asks.
I shake my head. “No. I knocked, and when I didn’t get an answer, I walked in. And then those papers were lying there.”
“Whoa.” Grace pauses. “So he definitely did mention his office. And he even repeated the room number for you. I know that for a fact because I was making a video for my Insta, and you could hear him in the background.”
“Wait!” My cutlery clatters as I put it down. “You’ve got him on video saying that?”
Grace looks at me. “Yes, I—I wanted to make this reel and—”
“Have you still got it?”
“I don’t know. I uploaded it without sound. But the original might still be on my phone.”
“Could you check?” My voice trembles. Grace is looking at me like I’ve gone mad. “Please, it would make all the difference. For me, but especially for Henry.”
At that moment, she seems to put two and two together. “Is this to do with why he was suspended?”
I hesitate, but then I decide that it would be best to tell her the truth. “I saw the papers and knew they were for our maths exam. Which Henry would be doing too. And I was scared he’d just hand in another blank sheet of paper and fail it. I took photos of the questions.”
“Did Mr. Ward catch you?”
“No. I’d been out of his office for ages, waiting in the corridor when he came round the corner.”
“Because he wanted to give you time to fall into his trap,” adds Sinclair.
“Anyway, I told Henry about it. We argued. I deleted the photos. But he had them on his phone too. Because I sent them to him . . . Yesterday I was called to Mrs. Sinclair’s office because Mr. Ward told her I’d cheated.
He couldn’t prove it, but then Henry came along and showed them the photos on his phone. He said it had been him.”
“What?” Grace’s voice is shrill now. “But why would he do that?”
To protect me. I don’t say a word, but she looks at me and I’m sure she understands. Because she’s known Henry so long and knows that he’d do anything to keep others out of trouble.
“Fine.” Grace puts her tray on our table and pulls out her phone.
She scrolls for a few seconds, then holds it out to me.
Tori and Sinclair jump up and lean in as I start the video.
There’s a selfie of Grace and Olive, then a shot of the hallway, and another view out of a window into the courtyard.
In the background, you can hear the usual jumble of voices at break time.
Laughter, snatches of conversation. I turn up the volume and hold my breath.
Yes. It’s not very clear, but it’s Mr. Ward’s voice.
Kindly come to my office next Wednesday at five . . . Do you know where that is? Room 2350 in the old building.
I exchange glances with Grace, then hear my own voice repeating the room number, a “Yes” from Mr. Ward, and then the video ends.
“He really did say it,” Tori murmurs, looking at me. “That was no mistake, was it?”
“Absolutely not,” declares Sinclair.
“But why would he do that? Has he got it in for you?” Grace asks. I feel three pairs of eyes on me. Yes, but why? Because he wants me gone. Because since my very first lesson with him, there’s been something about him that makes me nervous. Because I finally have to know the truth.
The others stare at me as I get up.
“I have to make a quick call.”
My fingers are sweaty as I dial the number I’d never wanted to call. But I do, and I’m almost surprised that he picks up right away. And that he agrees to meet me this same afternoon in a café in Edinburgh.
Mum’s eyes bore through me as she gets out of the taxi that brought her from the airport to the school. To my surprise, she gives me a hug.
“What on earth were you thinking?” she asks.
I shut my eyes. “I only wanted to help,” I whisper. My chest feels too tight to breathe. I’ve achieved the exact opposite. Henry’s been suspended and is now with his brother in St. Andrews.
“I honestly thought you had more sense,” Mum says as the taxi turns. “Photographing exam papers . . . God, Emma.”
“I know.” I clench my fists. “It was wrong and I’m sorry.
But it might never have happened if you’d told me the truth from the start.
” When Mum hesitates, I know I’m on to something.
“Mr. Ward didn’t get me to go into that office by chance.
One of my friends has a video of him telling me the room number, so I’ve got proof.
But he says he didn’t. He wanted me to find those exam papers. ”
Mum keeps looking at me.
“Why would he do that, Mum?” I don’t want to talk to her like this. But I have to know what this is all about. “Why have I had the feeling—since my very first day here—that he wants to see the back of me as soon as possible?”
“Emma, this is all very—”
“Complicated, I know. But it’s more than just something between you, Dad, and him now.
Henry’s been suspended. For my sake. Because he’s an idiot and took the blame and I couldn’t prove it wasn’t him.
That’s why I need the truth. So he can come back and finish his A levels.
” Furious tears sting my eyes. “We’re meeting Dad at twelve in the Saint Giles in Edinburgh. You two can tell me everything there.”
He’s already there when I open the door, and he stands up as we walk toward him. I can see the surprise on his face as he recognizes Mum.
“Hi,” I say, sitting down. “Thanks for coming at such short notice.”
“Not a problem,” says my dad. His eyes are on Mum. I’m not sure when they last saw each other. I only know that Mum doesn’t look half as shaken as I’d feared. I may be confronting her with her past but, at this moment, I understand she’s built a new life and he can’t hurt her anymore.
“Hello, Jacob,” she says calmly as she sits down.
“Laura.” He clears his throat and sits too. “I didn’t know you were—”
“I only just landed. Emma wanted the three of us to have this conversation, and I can see the sense in that.”
I give her a sidelong glance.
“Fine.” My father nods. “Then . . . How are you?”
“Very well, thanks.” She doesn’t ask how he is, just tries to catch a waiter’s eye. I can’t help noticing that my dad is taking her in as she orders an espresso. He seems very different from how he was in Glasgow.
The waiter looks at me.
“I’ll have tea, please. English breakfast,” I murmur, because that’s what Henry would have ordered, and I miss him. It really hurts. I don’t know what he’s doing, only that he’s with his brother. It’s wrong for me to be sitting with my divorced parents in a café in Edinburgh, and not with him.
“How’s school?” my dad asks, once the waiter’s gone again.
I don’t know if he’s genuinely interested, even if he does seem like a different person now, sober and by daylight. I guess I should be glad that he even asked. But I’ve got no time for small talk and pleasantries.
“I have a question for you both,” I say, instead of replying. I look at my dad. “And I need the truth. It’s important. For me . . . and for a friend who’s in trouble for my sake.”
He studies me. “And you’re sure that I can help?”
“Yes,” I say. “Alaric Ward, Mum, and you. What happened between you three?”
My father looks from Mum to me. “Biscuit, this is nothing for you to worry about.”
“She needs to know,” Mum says. “All of it. Making a mystery of it has caused enough damage as it is.”
My dad looks at her.
“He’s her teacher.”
“And he hates me,” I add. “I need to know why.”
The silence as the waiter brings our drinks is unbearable.
“I’m the reason,” my dad says. Mum doesn’t dispute that, just stirs sugar into her espresso. “And I’m sorry, I really am. The accident, it was all my fault.”
“What accident?” I ask.