Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
ERICA
Woolifers Academy was set in twenty acres of woodland and its grand stately home exterior hid beneath it a multitude of brightly decorated classrooms, a huge gymnasium and various offices and meeting rooms. Outside, there was a pool, vegetable gardens, tennis courts and acres of space where the students could move or play or sit and run their hands through the grass: something that Benjamin loved to do.
Initially, Erica had only visited Woolifers to appease Andrew, but she’d realised within ten minutes of looking around and speaking to the staff how wonderful it would be for Ben. With her father’s inheritance, and some strict accounting of their household budget, they could cover the fees. For the first time, after two years of arguing with Andrew about it, she’d begun to think that letting Ben stay overnight somewhere like this might not be the worst thing. The biggest issue had been how they would manage to get him there each day when both she and Andrew had to get to work.
Then the school trip had happened, she’d been suspended from school and they’d got a call from Woolifers to say that a place had become available for Ben straight after the Easter holidays. All in the same week.
On the one hand, it solved a logistical problem. While she had no job to get to, she could rent an apartment close to Ben’s school so that she could get him there without the added stress of a long car journey. It also meant, she’d told Andrew – told herself – that they could try out an overnight because she’d be able to get to the school within minutes if he didn’t like being there. Once they got to the summer holidays, they’d decided, they could see how things were going and make a plan as to how they’d go forward. Three months in, they would know whether the school was a good fit, whether he could cope with some overnights, or a long commute in the car, and whether Erica was going back to school. At Easter there had been too many unknowns to make a definitive decision.
Except now the three months were pretty much up and she still didn’t have a solution.
She knew that people judged her for moving out and leaving Mollie. She would’ve had to have had a skin as thick as a rhinoceros not to feel the eyes boring into her when she collected Mollie from a birthday sleepover at a friend’s house a few Sundays ago. The mutters and the fake smiles from other mothers picking up their daughters. She’d heard one of them tell another how she ‘could never leave her child’. Even parents she knew and liked had struggled to say something supportive. If Andrew had been the one to move out, would he have had the same reaction?
It was hard every day to live separately from her daughter, but Mollie was so settled where she was. She loved her school, her friends and the house they lived in. Moving so that Ben could attend Woolifers had given him the chance to have that, too. To have a life.
For Andrew, the main draw of the school was the residential side. Even before they’d been offered a place, he’d suggested Ben could board for a week so that they and Mollie could have a holiday abroad. That had been too much and she’d got very upset with him. ‘Is that why you’re pushing for this? You just want him sent away?’
‘For the love of…it’s not some kind of asylum from the turn of the century, Erica. You’ve been there. It’s amazing.’
‘Would you send Mollie away to boarding school?’ She didn’t like to use her daughter in their arguments; it wasn’t fair on her. But he had to see what he was actually saying and that was the only way.
He’d dropped the tone of his voice, then. It was the cool professionalism that she hated. ‘I am not saying that Benjamin should stay there all the time. Listen to me. I’m just suggesting that he stay there sometimes. Give us a break. Give you a break.’
He knew where that tender point was and he was pushing it with a sharp finger. ‘I don’t need a break from my son!’
These arguments weren’t new. They’d been having variations of the same discussion for the last two years. She wanted Benjamin close. He wanted him sent away. The move to the apartment was supposed to be a temporary compromise. But it had been harder than she’d expected to hold up her end of the bargain.
As she closed the car door and walked up the path to the residential wing, she reminded herself that Ben was familiar with the school and the staff so it wasn’t as if she was leaving him somewhere he wouldn’t know. Helen – the house mother for the boys’ section – was ready and waiting with her customary warm smile. ‘Hi, Ben. We’re really excited you’ve come to visit us.’
When they’d started at the school, it had been explained that there were two bedrooms left available for short-term stays. Respite weekends were a common thing. But also these could be used in an emergency situation – like this – as long as they were available. There was a cost, of course – and it wasn’t cheap – but the option was a luxury that many parents didn’t have.
On the phone earlier, Helen had explained that usually they would want a student to have come for some familiarisation sessions before staying overnight, but in these emergency circumstances she was happy to help out. Erica was still hoping that they’d find Mollie soon and that she could collect Ben later that evening. Helen’s reply had been measured. ‘Let’s see how it goes. If Ben’s content, it might be nice for him to stay. Bring his overnight bag just in case.’
She was beginning to feel lately that the staff were trying to gently lead her to give Ben more independence. The letter about the trip into town had filled her with a fear that must look way too overprotective to them. She wanted to let him do more, knew that it was the right thing. But every time they suggested taking him out somewhere without her, she was right back at that awful day.
Aside from reputation, she didn’t know Vinnie Fisher, had never taught him. But the thought of having to keep her eyes on him for every minute of the trip filled her with apprehension. The head had been encouraging. ‘You’re a great teacher with lots of experience. It’ll be fine. I’m paying for an extra member of staff out of another budget, so you are just there to keep your attention on him.’
The first couple of days were okay. It took them six hours to get to the Lake District on a coach and he was lively but contained. Day two, they were orienteering in a field and he was fine then too.
It was day three of the five that it happened.
They’d taken the kids into Kendal for a wander around. Some wanted to buy souvenirs and gifts to take home. Others wanted to stock up on sweets for the coach. Usually, the teachers would position themselves somewhere they could be easily found and give the students an hour to wander around on their own with strict instructions to stay in groups of three.
Rather than join the other teachers, Erica stayed outside. Following, from a discreet distance, Vinnie and the other two boys he was with.
Vinnie was a challenge, but he wasn’t stupid. ‘Why are you following us?’
The other two boys looked uncomfortable. One of them was in her class, they got on well, but now he was being torn between wanting to look cool with this boy that they hero-worshipped and not offending a teacher he liked.
She’d smiled at Vinnie. ‘I’m not following you. I’m keeping an eye on everyone.’
Of course, she had no skills as an undercover detective so – even though she tried to keep a distance – it was only another ten minutes before he rounded on her again. ‘You are. You’re following us. Go away.’
It was pointless pretending otherwise now. ‘You’ve only got forty minutes, Vinnie. Just do the shopping you want to do and then we’re all going back to the centre.’
‘Nah. I’ve had enough. Come on!’
The last was said to the two boys he was with and then he was on his toes, dashing across the street. One boy followed. The second – Luke Taylor, the boy from her class – looked at her, back at Vinnie, then dashed across the road. Directly into the path of an oncoming car.
At the time, she’d gone straight into emergency mode. Calling an ambulance, sitting with the boy until it came, making sure that someone else was counting every child – including Vinnie Fisher who had been found hiding in the park. It was later that night, after they’d had the confirmation that – apart from a broken arm and cuts and bruises – Luke was going to be okay, that she’d started shaking uncontrollably, running the moment over and over in her head. Unable to shake off the sick dread of what might’ve happened. There was the fear of facing Luke’s parents, of losing her job, of trying to work out whether she could’ve done any of it differently: all of those things were painful. Worst of all, she kept seeing the face of her own little boy. His vulnerability.
It wasn’t possible to watch a child every second. She was a good teacher – an attentive teacher – and a young boy could have died that day. That’s why she had to be the one to look after Benjamin because she could watch him all the time. Why could no one understand that? Why had Andrew not been able to understand that? She was his mum. She was the only one who could keep him safe.
Now they were outside the entrance to the residential wing, she wanted to go and see his room. To make sure he would be okay there. Check the windows and the doors. But she needed to get to Andrew and help him to find Mollie, so she took a deep breath and held out Ben’s bag to Helen. Her voice wobbled. ‘Here are his things.’
Helen turned to Ben. ‘Do you want to take your bag from your mum, Ben?’
As if he was determined to prove her wrong, Ben took the bag. She knew it was an overreaction, but she could’ve sobbed as he gave her a wave and seemed perfectly happy to follow Helen inside.
Back at the car, she blew her nose. He will be fine. She told herself. It was more important that they find Mollie and get to the bottom of what was going on.
It was less than an hour from Ben’s school to her old house, but it took a while to navigate through the country lanes at this time of the day. Dredging up all the memories of Luke’s accident only heightened her fears for Mollie. Though Andrew was correct that it’d only been a few hours, she knew that it only took a few moments for tragedy to strike. In the last few weeks, waiting for the results of the investigation, she’d tortured herself with her part in what happened. She’d wanted to speak to Luke’s parents, to tell them how sorry she was, but had been advised that she should just stay away. The tone in which that advice had been given had led her to assume that they wanted her head on a platter. And who could blame them? Didn’t she blame herself?
After half an hour of smaller roads, she was just pulling onto the motorway when a call came in from Andrew. Holding her breath, she pressed the button on her GPS screen to take the call. ‘Hello? Have you got her?’
The reception wasn’t great and he sounded far away. ‘Erica? Can you hear me? Where are you? Are you nearly here?’
There was an urgency in his voice that made her heart thud. ‘I’ve dropped Ben at the school and I’m pulling onto the main road. I’m about twenty minutes away. Have you found Mollie?’
There was a pause at the other end that made her want to throw up. ‘Not yet. But something has come up. Can you meet me at work? I’m at the station.’
Now she really did feel nauseous. What was he doing at the police station rather than looking for Mollie? ‘What is it? What’s going on, Andrew?’
His voice was as cold as the fear trickling down her spine. ‘Just come. I’ll explain when you get here.’