Chapter 24
Fox
Thursday morning started as usual. I was getting used to this now, and yes, I had made numerous reports.
I had spoken to my colleagues, and I had reported myself to the safeguarding lead.
I had written down blow-by-blow accounts of every interaction with me and the child in question, and also our walk and interaction with a certain Mr Fairweather.
I knew how bad it looked. But…I also knew that Bailey Butcher was beaming from ear to ear sat at my tiny table, wolfing down a bowl of cereal and brushing crumbs off his school blazer.
He was having a haircut later and had slept on my sofa every night this week, turning up with his school iPad and a book around ten, after the housemaster’s lights-out, like this was perfectly normal.
I wasn’t helping myself either because I could see it coming and was leaving the door unlocked and would pop my head around the corner and say goodnight.
Perhaps I should be tucking him in, but I felt that was too personal.
This was not the proper way of doing things, and…
I still couldn’t bring myself to remove him and bring him back to his room.
Not when he was this happy. Grinning from ear to ear as I sat myself down opposite him with my morning tea.
All dressed in my robes. Hair back. Everything on point.
I’d even ironed my collar, ready for Baronetess Daniels’s critical eyes.
No dust on me. Not a fleck of anything they could accuse me of.
It was the way the world worked, and perhaps I was paranoid, but I was trying so hard to do the right thing here, when I knew full well what I was doing was…
perhaps wrong. Like stocking up on his favourite cereal and leaving it out on the table.
With a bowl and spoon. Dusting off my toaster and buying butter and jam. Like a normal person.
“You dad pretty good,” he said with his mouth full. “Although…Mrs Cook’s scrambled eggs are…really epic.”
“I agree. But if you’re going to be too late for Mrs Cook’s breakfast, you’ll be late for assembly, and we can’t have that.”
“If I’m late for assembly, then you’re late for assembly and you’re my dad, so your problem. You need to get me up on time.”
I rolled my eyes. We taught the boys independent living here. Self-management. Apparently not part of Bailey’s plan-of-life. “Mr Nolan is leading assembly today. I’ve got a meeting with our board.”
“Bah,” Bailey said. Then he drank the last of the milk out of the bowl. The way I had done as a child.
For heaven’s sake. I wasn’t doing this, was I?
At least, all bases were covered, including putting Noah on the list of approved visitors to the school, under the condition that he would be escorted at all times.
And I may…have also filled in the application to have him move in with me…
after our nuptials. Oh fuck. It made me smile nervously, and I was not spilling those little snippets of information to Bailey.
Instead, I sent him on his way and went upstairs to our official meeting room, where Baronetess Daniels was already in situ, having been provided with a cup of tea and a selection of Cook’s finest biscuits.
Me? I wasn’t eating or drinking a thing until this was over because I would no doubt spill on myself and I was already nervous enough.
Not much over this meeting, but everything was up in the air, and that?
That made me twitchy. Bailey Butcher made me twitchy.
He also made me smile and made me think about how my life could be…
And most of all, Noah Fairweather made me lose my mind. What on earth was I playing at here?
I took my seat, somehow expecting the worst. I would be sacked. Had there been complaints? Had there? Maybe I had pushed too far this time, skirting around the rules with a smile on my face.
“Mr Riley, a pleasure as always.” Gardiner Faulkner, our lead parent governor. Self-styled speaker of the pack and chair of the meeting. As always. I didn’t mind.
“It’s delightful to see you all here; I trust you have all had refreshments?”
I could talk the talk. Walk the walk. Head held high.
“You still look exactly the same, Riley. And you really should set a better example for our students. A haircut is long overdue, young man.” Right on cue, my monthly dressing-down from Mr Machintyre.
He still thought I was twelve, and in need of a stern whipping.
In his defence, he had taught Math here for donkey’s years before retiring, and yes.
I had been his student. I was still mad at him for only awarding me a B in my final exams.
“My hair is at regulation standard, Mr Machintyre,” I quipped.
“First on the agenda, Mr Riley. We have some concerns.” I was getting attacked from every corner today. Well fuck-a-duck.
I tried not to smile. I had no concerns. I had all the concerns in the world.
“We have had a comprehensive written complaint about your conduct as of late, from an anonymous outsider. Certain things were mentioned, and we would like to start by addressing them.”
“I am now concerned myself. Can you elaborate on what these complaints adhere to?”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“There were mentions of a recent holiday where you got so inebriated that you had to be carried back to your accommodation.”
Okay. I burst out laughing because not only was this ridiculous, but I had also once been in a relationship with a man called Thomas Swain, who had no sense and would absolutely have put himself forward to try to bring me down.
Any way he could. Because I was better than this, and he was petty and frankly…
an idiot. A jealous one. Perhaps he had expected me to stand up to him, on that stupid holiday.
Beg for him to take me back? Had that been his plan, bringing that twink along?
I had to shake myself out of this, and I once again laughed out loud.
“I recently had a short break away on holiday with a group of friends. This group included my former partner, Mr Swain, as well as my current partner, Mr Fairweather. Some of you had the pleasure of meeting him when he visited last weekend, and I hope to see more of him this term.” Talking out of my arse, but whatever. Polite smile.
Baronetess Daniels took another sip of her tea.
“Never cared for Mr Swain,” she said, sucking on her teeth. “We care greatly about our reputation, Mr Riley.”
“So do I. And if you want to know why Mr Fairweather carried me back to my accommodation? I can assure you I was not drunk but had merely submitted myself to a moment of frivolity where I got my foot so burnt by the sun that I struggled to walk. Mr Fairweather, being the gentleman he is, carried me around for two days.” I smiled, like I’d told a hilarious story as Mr Gardiner Faulkner sucked on lemons.
Literally. Was I getting away with this? I hoped so.
“I had concerns about appointing you,” he said, Mr Faulkner.
Grey hair. Tartan suit. Thought himself above everyone in the room.
Concerns? We were currently all overusing that word.
“Your youth would always be an issue here, Riley. The board would have preferred a more experienced head with fewer episodes of, what did you call it? Frivolity.” Here we went again.
I’d been here for ten years, and they were still moaning.
“I have concerns,” I said sternly. “We are running a school here, and we have one hundred boys who depend on our care and attention. That is what we promise them when they join us here at Kilmartin. We have boys in need of emotional care, around the clock. We have young men who need gentle guidance and others in need of a steady hand. I am spreading myself far too thinly at the moment, trying to accommodate everyone’s expectations to fulfil our promise to these boys, and I am incredibly grateful to our teachers and staff who are at hand twenty-four seven to ensure we do exactly that.
We nurture. We support. And we care about these youngsters.
We care. That is what my concern is here, that we are spending time discussing my recent holiday when we should be discussing appointing an additional school nurse and upping Mrs Thakur’s hours so we always have a dedicated councillor on site. ”
I stared at Mr Faulkner. He stared back.
“You’re doing a stellar job of it as well,” he said, nodding. “That clears that up then. And what are your plans for this Mr Fairweather? I trust you will bring him in front of the board at some point?”
“Certainly.” I smiled. “I am hoping to accommodate him here with me later this year.”
“I see congratulations are in order?” Baronetess Daniels. I wasn’t sure of her mood today. “You have submitted the required paperwork. I see he’s a doctor. A fine man, I suppose?”
“The finest, Baronetess.”
“Riley, you’re a fine man yourself. I admit this board was very sceptical ten years ago, but you have to believe me when I say this. A man like you?”
“Yes?” Make this day over. Please. I felt like I was on trial here, with more abuse to come.
Yes, I was gay. Yes, I was a young man. Too young for this role.
Nobody had cared much for my previous choice of partner, and I agreed with them, wholeheartedly.
But I’d been here ten years, and I thought by now I’d proven myself.
Yet this was my life. Every meeting, they reminded me how inadequate I was for this role.
Perhaps I should be used to it by now. Perhaps I never would be.
“We’ve never had a single headmaster here,” she droned on, picking up a crumb from the table and letting it drop onto the napkin by her cup.
“We always accommodated the wife in tow. We adored Mrs Townshill. Mrs Carruthers before that. We have missed having a spouse around; it brings the place to life.”
“It does indeed.” Did it? Would it?
“I assume Mr Fairweather would like to engage in the school? Perhaps join our fundraising committee?”