Simone
SIMONE
A fter waking up in the hotel room alone, all Simone could remember about how that night with Cillian ended was that she’d fallen asleep in the middle of a Remy story, right before she’d got to the part about reading the pages from her printer.
Simone thought that was her brain’s subtle way of telling her that is how her last night with Remy should have ended.
Simone had made it to school but not without tremendous effort; she would crawl down the school corridor if she could guarantee it wouldn’t draw attention; she was exhausted physically and emotionally.
Remy had not stopped calling her. Simone had eventually switched off her phone and quickly surmised she had no reason to turn it back on.
Simone assumed it would be easy to return to her old self.
She’d been fine before Remy; logically, she should be fine after her.
But having to wear a mask in front of naturally inquisitive children and naturally nosy colleagues was draining her mentally.
She found herself unable to entertain her children’s endless questions, snapping at them a few times and begging for quiet in the room more than once.
She constantly had a headache due to dehydration, and once she allowed her forehead to rest in the palms of her hands, she noticed her unironed trousers and that her socks looked similar but were, in fact, not of the same pair.
At the end of the school day and on the way to Martha’s classroom, Simone spotted the headteacher, Edwina, walking in her direction, accompanied by a blond, petite woman Simone had never seen before but assumed was a parent.
Edwina stopped in her tracks, but the mother continued to approach Simone, gaping openly at her.
Simone struggled to read her expression; there was surprise, a hint of disbelief.
Then the mother blinked twice before lifting her chin higher, not able to match Simone in height but able to dominate her in posture.
Edwina joined them and placed a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder before she said, “Simone, you need to head to my office, immediately. I’ll join you soon. ”
“Take a seat,” Edwina offered once they were inside her office. “Do you know why I’ve asked you to see me today?”
Simone sank into one of the chairs opposite Edwina. “I can’t say I do.”
“Did you recognize the woman I was with moments ago?”
“I did not.”
“That was Lara O’Connor,” Edwina said, clasping her hands on the desk. “Cillian’s wife.”
Simone’s heart stopped.
“She’s brought some rather disturbing news to my attention,” Edwina continued.
“Lara claims to have seen you and Cillian leaving a hotel last night and she is under the assumption that you and her husband have a… ‘working’ relationship outside of the school. That he, how can I put this delicately, pays you for your time?”
Simone stared at Edwina. She had of course considered what she would do if a colleague found out about her second job, and she’d planned to either lie or haughtily say her private matters were of nobody’s concern.
But Simone knew that neither option would be good enough for her boss. So, she told the truth.
“No money exchanged hands last night.”
Edwina’s eyes widened dramatically, and her mouth went more than a little slack. “And prior to that?” she asked.
“Anything prior to Mr. O’Connor working at the school doesn’t seem relevant.”
Edwina scoffed. “Simone, this is a very serious allegation.”
“Why? No crime was committed.” Simone attempted to remain confident, but she felt it now—this was going to be the last back-breaking straw.
“Simone, I’m sure you’re aware that we cannot have a prostitute teaching our children. The parents would riot.”
“I prefer the word ‘escort.’”
“Simone, if I were you, semantics would be the least of my worries.” Edwina looked at her as if she wasn’t quite clear what or who she was seeing. Simone recognized this expression easily: the look of a person who has realized you are nothing like they imagined.
“To confirm,” Edwina said, “you slept with Mr. O’Connor and demanded payment for doing so?”
“Prior to his employment at Linwood, he willingly paid for sex, yes.”
“Were you aware he was married?”
“Yes, I believe Cillian was aware that he was married when he hired me.”
Edwina sniffed. “Are you sure he knew?” she asked again. “That you… that you do what you do? That you would charge him afterward?”
Simone furrowed her brows, unsure if she understood what seemed so obvious. “Did he know he was paying for sex when he paid me for sex? Yes.” Simone paused for impact. “I would think so.”
Edwina pursed her lips and clasped her hands tighter. “I have to discuss this matter with the higher-ups and, to be perfectly honest, it could be grounds for dismissal.”
Even though Simone saw this coming, it didn’t prevent the remaining piece of her heart from breaking any less, and when she spoke, her voice came out shrill.
“I didn’t see anything against my job in my school contract.”
“The school’s ethos, which you agreed to uphold, is to protect the children in our care.”
“I’m not a threat to them! My children are perfectly safe,” Simone said. “I do my absolute best for each and every one of them. You talk about protecting the children, but do you know how many times I’ve had to chase for information regarding Tyler’s situation at home?”
“Ah, yes, speaking of Tyler,” Edwina said.
“Martha has informed me that you pressured and bribed her to push Tyler’s safeguarding form to the top—we have a system, Simone.
I was going to let that one go, but coupled with this recent development…
” Edwina rose to her feet. “You will need to leave the school premises immediately, and I will be in touch.”
Back at home, Simone turned her phone back on. Amid the flurry of notifications from Remy were a few from Cillian.
You’re not answering your phone.
I just got out of a mock exam and my wife was here.
Where are you?
I’m going to get your job back.
Call me.
Simone, call me back.
Simone switched her phone off again and, fully dressed, climbed into bed.