Don’t let the bastards have the final word

When Hannah finally got an interview for a teaching post at the prestigious Faggs School just a few weeks after her disciplinary meeting, she was as pleased as punch especially as her deputy head interviews had led her nowhere and although she would no longer be in a managerial position, she would at least be freed from her shackles at Queensford.
The headmaster of Faggs School, a certain Watt Grayman, seemed a pleasant enough chap but his stiff formal approach, sitting opposite Hannah at his enormously large desk in his lofty Victorian office, lacked the personal touch so characteristic of modern-day headteachers. He was noticeably uncomfortable with his role.
‘You know there’s nothing here for you, don’t you?’ he suddenly announced at the end of her interview, his middle-aged face puce red with stress. ‘All the promotional positions are taken.’
Hannah looked at him mutely and frowned. The idea of promotion had never even crossed her mind, particularly as she would have to prove her professional worth first. So why had he made such an unusual and unprofessional comment? And thinking about it, why had the other two candidates mysteriously withdrawn their applications at the last moment, on the very same day of the interview? Was there some sort of divine intervention working on her behalf to ensure that she got the job whether she wanted it or not? Or was it because the other two candidates had heard? That if you wanted to be treated like a professional, to have your opinions heard, to be happy in your teaching, to have support from your line manager when you needed it, and to receive respect from your colleagues and your pupils.
Then never, ever, under any circumstances…
Teach at Faggs School.

It wasn’t simply just a question of something in the water at Queensford School: it was more like the opening of a can of worms, a can which had been corroding and ready to burst open since the beginning of time. In the January of 2003, when the British press began to report upon the increasing number of sex offences in society – in the Catholic Church, the music industry, and in the professions – it came as no surprise when similar situations involving English public schools hit the national headlines almost at the same time.
It had been silently going on for centuries.

‘Have you seen the newspaper article about the two teachers who were suspended for accessing child porn on the Internet at a well-known boarding school in the West Country?’ read Tessa’s text message later that month. Hannah was astounded: she had only recently been to the school for a job interview! She secretly hoped Queensford would also have its name blazoned across the tabloid press one day.
Though she was still reeling from the whole Christmas Eve episode, the experience had taught her a few important lessons: to be less trusting of her colleagues in the workplace and to be a little more thick-skinned when people talked about her behind her back. Luckily for her, the written warning she received was the only logical outcome because Adams, incompetent and inexperienced though he was, would have been painfully aware of his mistakes: the way he had cultured the bullying behaviour of some of his teaching staff, without any visible action being taken against them, and how he had covered up the sexual improprieties of Wally Timpson, Wyatt Lowe and Justin Rupert from everyone, even allowing Wally and Justin to continue teaching for several months even after their indiscretions had been rumbled. And to cap it all, he had asked Justin if he wanted a reference for a teaching job at another school, knowing what acts he had committed, and could commit again, so potentially unleashing him to perpetuate the cycle of abuse.
Yes, Hannah knew all of this; Adams knew she did as well.
She had something on them all.
She must have seemed to him, and the weak chairman of the governors, like a canon.
Still loaded and ready to fire.

With Jonathan King moving to a more secure prison at the end of the same month that year and the police announcing to the press that 250,000 British males had used their credit cards to access American child porn sites, there was a feeling that the paedophilia situation in the UK was about to explode. Although most of the perverts would eventually either be let off or officially warned, those purchasing the pornography on a regular basis would not. There was no doubt in Hannah’s mind.
It was simply just bad timing for Justin Rupert.
The Grim Rupert.

Around the same time, Hannah carried out yet another school inspection. She was still driven to add professional achievements to her curriculum vitae as insurance for improving her career but on this particular occasion the experience turned out to be more interesting than she had ever expected.
‘So is Justin Rupert still at Queensford School?’ asked the tall, attractive chemistry teacher over coffee and biscuits in the school hall on the first day of the inspection.
Hannah’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped at the man’s unexpected question. It seemed all eyes of the small group of scientists gathered around her were staring at her, waiting for a response.
‘No,’ she replied cautiously, careful not to give anything away. ‘He’s not. He left last summer.’ She was slowly learning about the independent school grapevine and she wanted to avoid any careless comment about Justin’s behaviour going beyond the confines of Queensford School, in case it rebounded on her at some distant point in the future.
‘Is there any way I can contact him?’ he asked, innocently.
‘Um…I don’t know. I know he hasn’t got a computer at home so he can’t be reached by email,’ she replied, resisting the urge to give away his telephone number and address. ‘How do you know him anyway?’
‘We used to teach together before he disappeared off to Queensford School.’
‘Were you part of the wine club he used to tell me about?’
‘Yes, I was. We used to have some good times together, actually. So what’s he doing now?’
‘I’m not really sure except that he’s left teaching.’
When Hannah had time to digest her chance meeting with the chemistry teacher, she desperately wanted to take the opportunity to dig deeper into Justin’s past. It was a golden opportunity not to be missed!
‘So, you socialized with Justin Rupert a lot then?’ she asked after observing one of the chemist’s lessons to a lower school class.
‘Yes. I was in his social circle.’
‘He’s a bit of a boy, isn’t he?’ she chuckled.
‘Yes. He certainly liked his beer…and his women.’
‘Sixth formers?’
There was a brief pause.
‘It’s not for me to say.’
As her position of school inspector dictated that any further communication with the teacher would have to be carried out with the highest degree of professionalism, Hannah decided not to pursue the matter any further. It seemed enough had been said. Despite his previous reassurances, Justin must have been well practiced at taking advantage of young girls in his care.
Well before he had even arrived at Queensford School.

‘Have you got a job at Faggs School?’ Adams asked accusingly, walking briskly towards her whilst she stood outside her classroom waiting for one of her classes to arrive for their lesson. It was her first morning back at work after the inspection.
‘Yes,’ Hannah replied, simply.
‘I assume you will be taking it?’
‘Very much so, Mr. Adams,’ she replied, wanting to hurt him.
‘Well, I will need to advertise your job,’ he informed her, gruffly.
‘I haven’t written formally to accept the job, yet. I would also like to sign the relevant paperwork before I resign my post here.’
‘I will still need to advertise your job in good time.’
‘But that’s constructive dismissal!’ exclaimed Hannah, thinking the man had several months to replace her before the end of the academic year which was more than enough time, almost two whole terms!
‘No, it’s not constructive dismissal,’ came the sharp reply. ‘I would like you to resign in good time.’
‘There was never any doubt of that,’ she said, sensing his spite towards her.
‘Well, I would just like to repeat that I would like you to resign in good time.’
‘And I have just said that I will but I haven’t even accepted the job at Faggs School yet.’
Adams screwed up his eyes, in disbelief. He had sported the same unpleasant look before, during her disciplinary meeting, so she knew she had the upper hand once more.
He really is a nasty little man, she thought, watching him disappear out of the department and back to his lair. Gordon Chester must have told Adams about her job success at Faggs School before she even had chance to say anything to him. Had Adams deliberately gone to see her to stir up the hornets’ nest? No wonder his wife is divorcing him! And Lorna is right: he’s strong when he’s in his office but weak outside. And just because he wants to be popular and liked!
An over-bloated fish in a very small pond, she thought, smiling at her pupils as they came into view for their lesson.

Adams’s friendly attitude towards Fat Boye had started to annoy Hannah immensely, particularly since handing in her resignation. She could hardly get eye contact from him, let alone a courteous greeting or smile.
‘I wonder who’ll get my job now that I’m leaving?’ she asked Sally, one of her colleagues, in one of their heart-to-heart chats.
‘I doubt whether it’ll be Burper,’ her friend confidently replied.
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because of the rumours of his relationship with Germaine in Year 11.’
‘My goodness! You’ve heard that one as well?’
‘Yes, I have. And even Brunhilde told me she’d heard the same rumour.’
In truth, Burper had a cheek applying for Hannah’s job. There was no way he would be a credible replacement for her, especially since the investigation into his alleged relationships with female pupils at the school which unhappily seemed to have resulted in him retaining his job. But with Adams’s reputation for employing staff who turned out to be professional disasters, there was a general feeling amongst Hannah’s friends that anything was possible. After a protracted period of waiting so characteristic of Adams’ decision-making, it was finally announced Burper had failed in his bid to get Hannah’s job.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Hannah’s letters to Adams started when she realized if anything untoward ever happened to Justin in the future, history would only have Adams’ viewpoint on paper to call upon. Over time, she had allowed much to go flying over her head, particularly when the security of her job was in question, but now she was going to make a stand so that her employment record at the school would log her dissent. She had gone past caring whether Adams would abuse his influence as headmaster in letting Watt Grayman at Faggs School know of her record at Queensford, mainly because she figured he had much to lose himself if the truth about recent events ever surfaced. She would therefore need to prepare for the worst and have her side of events recorded in writing as well. As she had never been sent a copy of any of the notes Adams’ secretary had made at their meetings, Hannah instructed her solicitor to intervene for copies on her behalf. When they eventually arrived, Hannah was shocked to see that not only did they contain several inaccuracies but, to add insult to injury, Adams had signed them – as if he had self-verified their veracity.
So, with the prospect of leaving Queensford, Hannah was now free to confidently challenge Adams about the inaccuracies and lies contained not only in the notes taken by his secretary but also in Fat Boye’s account of the events on Christmas Eve and, despite the advice of close friends and her solicitor to draw a line under the whole unhappy affair, Hannah embarked on a series of tit-for-tat written communications with Adams. To Hannah, it seemed that no matter what she revealed, no matter how she accused, Adams knew.
She had him firmly by his balls.

The notes from the meeting ten months previously when she had reported Justin’s flirtation and possible grooming of Sissie Singer were riddled with omissions and factual errors. There was no mention of Norma Shezakowsky’s breach of confidentiality; or of Fat Boye’s and Flirt’s threat to dish the dirt on her about Ben, the fifteen-year old she had met at Laura’s party; or even of Phoebe’s name in relation to Justin losing his job! Neither was there any reference of her concern for Justin’s suicidal talk, nor her refusal and indignation at the suggestion she receive counselling. The notes also never mentioned Adams’ confirmation that Justin had not only flirted with Sissie Singer but with other female pupils at the school as well! The notes even accused her of being jealous of Sissie and talking to several people about Justin’s situation, when in fact she had only talked to a few of her close friends! Ben’s name, however, was mentioned.
Miraculously, the notes from her brief meeting with Adams, when she tried to clarify the issues to be considered at her disciplinary meeting, were almost a good and accurate record of what had actually been discussed. This was too much of a coincidence, given they had not discussed anything contentious!
But when she scrutinized the notes taken at her disciplinary meeting, Hannah’s heart sank: they did not accurately reflect what had been said at all. She remembered how the secretary had tried to keep pace with the meeting and Adams’ evident agitation when she continued to frantically write, well after Hannah had finished reading out her personal statement at the end of the meeting. And here was the proof of her incompetence! Then, it suddenly struck her.
The governor would have been given inaccurate notes from all of her meetings with Adams in the lead up to her disciplinary meeting!
‘May I please see the original notes from my meeting with the headmaster about Sissie Singer?’ Hannah asked politely when she reached Adams’ secretary’s office later that same day. She was shaking with upset after reading the transcripts she had just received in the post from her solicitor.
‘I don’t have them anymore,’ came the mild reply. ‘They were destroyed.’
‘Destroyed? Are you serious?’
‘I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about that,’ the secretary replied, getting quite agitated at Hannah’s incredulous tone of voice.
‘But the copy I’ve recently received is full of inaccuracies and omissions!’
Suddenly, Adams appeared through the open door which led directly from his secretary’s office into his study. Hannah’s fear levels almost instantly soared. He must have been listening to their contentious exchange!
‘We’re having a private conversation,’ Hannah explained awkwardly. Given his unexpected interruption and the way in which he gazed intently at her, they were the first words which came to her lips.
‘I’m sorry,’ he replied, non-plussed. ‘You looked as though you wanted me to take part.’
‘No. I didn’t want that at all,’ replied Hannah, boldly.
When the man finally disappeared back into his study, Hannah lowered her voice further, fearful his eavesdropping might continue.
‘The notes I’ve received are inaccurate. I made no mention at all of being jealous of Sissie Singer and I certainly didn’t mention the fifteen-year old boy in that meeting.’
‘Well, I know it came up at some point but I wasn’t sure when,’ came the secretary’s disrespectful reply, nervously fumbling with some notes on her desk.
Hannah imagined Adams must have placed the woman under great pressure to conjure up some new notes to replace the destroyed originals but at least she admitted she had bungled the whole underhand affair.
‘I would only mention the situation involving the boy in front of the headmaster and Brunhilde. Not in front of you,’ declared Hannah, brutally.
‘But I think it came up at your disciplinary meeting,’ suggested the woman, sounding increasingly uncomfortable.
‘No. It was never even mentioned at my disciplinary meeting!’ countered Hannah, confidently. ‘Let’s face it. This has been done by somebody to discredit me.’
And with her head held high, Hannah walked determinedly out of the devious woman’s office.
So, Mrs Secretary, you could have only known about Ben if you had read Fat Boye’s letter to the headmaster after the Christmas Eve situation, she thought.
Which you had no right to read!
Which means that you added details of the incident involving Ben to the bottom of the notes of my meeting concerning Justin’s flirtation with Sissie – when you shouldn’t have done!
You either did that out of panic because you had destroyed the original notes as you admitted or as a result of instructions from Adams!
And why would you do that?
Because otherwise there was no official record that I’d had a kissing encounter with a fifteen-year old boy!
You wanted to trap me, didn’t you, Mr Adams?
The notes also declared that she did not have any further concrete evidence about Justin’s flirtation with Sissie, with not even a mention of the several instances she had quoted about the unhealthy behaviour going on! Even though Adams had ultimately decided there was nothing untoward in what she had reported, this did not give him the right to omit her observations from the notes!
So what was Adams hiding?
Could it be that Justin really was in trouble over Sissie Singer and Adams knew it was serious enough to involve the police, which he wanted to avoid at all costs? Was it therefore just another convenient cover-up, at Hannah’s expense?
Of course it was!
To save the school from being dragged through the mud, she thought.

When she bumped into Brunhilde in the common room at the end of her lessons that day, Hannah wanted to clarify exactly when the situation with Ben had first been discussed.
‘I’m sure it was around the time Justin was being investigated…’ Brunhilde began, pensively.
Investigated, thought Hannah! It sounded so serious! And surely her name would have been mentioned in the investigation if the situation with Sissie Singer had been dragged up as well?
‘I know I haven’t got it in my notes and I know I didn’t report it to the headmaster. Why do you need to know?’
‘Reference has been made to it in the minutes Adams’ secretary took for our meeting when we discussed Sissie Singer and I know we didn’t mention it at all at that meeting! It’s just not fair an inaccurate account remains on record. It’s all beyond my control!’
When a message came through from Adams’ secretary on her answering machine in her office, Hannah knew the incompetent woman was trying to dig herself out of a hole. She had a sense a conspiracy was brewing against her, not necessarily in the short-term but for the future.
In case they all had to go to court if Justin continued with his predilection for young girls, she thought.
‘Hello, Hannah. I would like to clear something up from the conversation we had earlier on,’ the woman explained, mildly. ‘Would you please ring me so we can talk?’
When Hannah took the woman up on her suggestion, the secretary went round and round in circles, getting more and more agitated as she tried to explain how she had made the notes after the originals had been destroyed.
‘Look,’ Hannah interrupted, finally. ‘I came to see the original notes because it was plainly evident the ones you gave me were inaccurate. I had the right to do that. I’m sorry if you didn’t like me asking and I really don’t have the time to continue with this conversation because it’s going nowhere.’
All of a sudden, there was an obvious click on the other end of the telephone; someone had been listening to their conversation. She wondered whether it was Adams, sitting at his desk in his study, connected to his secretary’s telephone by the school network.
Still running scared.
And it was the same sort of clicking sound she had often heard before in her office, and at home, on telephones connected to the school network, controlled from the easily accessible central switchboard, just across the narrow passageway from Adams’ office.
Clicks she had heard during her conversations with Tessa, and Lorna.
At her many times of need.

When Brunhilde rang later on that evening, Hannah had a notion Adams had put her up to it.
‘Why are you still going over old ground, Hannah, when I thought it had all been forgotten?’ she asked, referring to their conversation about Ben earlier on that day.
Forgotten? How could I ever forget what’s happened to me here, she thought?
‘Don’t worry, everything’s OK,’ Hannah lied, sensing the senior manager was fishing for information. ‘I’m just getting all of my paperwork together. You never know how these things explode and with all that’s in the press lately about paedophiles, if this ever came to court then I’ll be prepared. With somebody like Justin, a leopard never changes its spots.’
‘Yes, I agree.’
‘It still all seems so unfair to me that from just an association with someone, I’ve been made to suffer in this way but at least my solicitor knows all the details of what’s happened to me here and she knows about the inaccuracies in the notes I’ve just recently been given. It’s all been such a big mistake.’
‘Yes, it has,’ agreed the senior manager, wondering why on earth such a person of her calibre had bothered with someone like Justin Rupert at the outset.
‘I will just have to write to the headmaster to say the notes are inaccurate, even though my solicitor says not to bother.’
And with that, the tit-for-tat letter writing began.

‘What I can’t understand is why you haven’t been given these notes before now?’ asked Tessa in one of their long telephone calls one evening after work. ‘And from what you say about them, Adams shouldn’t have signed them without you seeing them first!’
‘That’s the part I’m worried about. It’s as if he wanted anyone reading them in the future to think they’d been ratified in some way and of course they haven’t been which is why I’m fighting this now. He must be trying to cover something up, particularly as there are so many lies, omissions and inaccuracies in what’s been written. It smacks of a conspiracy to discredit me and I think that’s why the notes he made on Christmas Eve make it look as though I’m emotionally unstable! I mean…why is he doing this? I’ve done nothing wrong other than to report my suspicions about some odd things happening in Justin’s relationship with a pupil. Do you think he is trying to cover his tail?’
‘Yes, I think he is,’ replied Tessa. ‘In the light of the politics of the place and what child protection issues have gone on in the past, he could be under a lot of pressure. You can’t hide incompetence or this sort of behaviour for long before something is found out, so he could lose his job.’
‘Yes, I think you’re right.’
‘And another thing, I’d be very cautious of Brunhilde if I was you. She’s not interested in you and she’s covering his back, not yours. And from the way Adams is behaving at the moment, I reckon he thinks you know more than you’re prepared to say.’
Hannah knew Tessa was right on both counts. Brunhilde would be covering her own back as well as Adams’, particularly as she had been involved in the whole affair, and if Adams had been lying about anything, then ultimately she would be dragged into the controversy with him too. She thought of her disciplinary meeting and how she had avoided being drawn into things that had gone on between teachers and pupils at the school. After all, she wasn’t the only one with a mound of information inside her head about what the bachelors had been up to in their spare time. So why should she be the one under the microscope and not her colleagues as well? Unless, of course, Adams had wanted to trap her into admitting she was responsible for writing the anonymous letter about Justin.
‘But I don’t know anything other than what’s been reported about Sissie or what’s already been known for years,’ continued Hannah, still hiding the truth.
‘I know that but whatever you do now,’ advised her friend.
‘Please, just stay away from Fat Boye.’

With the increasing unhappiness and dissenting comments about Adams in open forum, Hannah was glad to be leaving Queensford. There was even talk of sending a delegation to Adams to tell him how upset people were with his mismanagement of the school. Even pupils had started quoting those staff who, in a moment of unprofessional off-guard, spilled out their spleen about Adams to the interested ears of their young charges.
‘With the poor behaviour in this school at the moment,’ commented Hannah, ‘we may as well be teaching in a comprehensive school! Where is Adams’s support for his teaching staff?’
‘Don’t knock him, Hannah,’ replied Iain, quickly. ‘He’s just blind.’
‘Well, he’s had his chance to make an impact but he’s cocked it up,’ commented the head of geography.
‘Yes, after six years at the school you think he would have had the school in his pocket by now,’ concluded Hannah.
With the staff speculating whether Adams had lost his marbles, the tongues continued to wag and tut when an unexpected notice appeared on the common room notice board: twenty three members of staff had missed assembly one morning and Adams was threatening them all with disciplinary action if they failed to spiritually mend their ways! Despite his ill-fated attempts to make assembly compulsory for his teaching staff, contradicting the accepted discretionary nature of the whole school gathering, Adams’ edict had been blatantly ignored by most of his minions. Needless to say, the numbers at assembly magically swelled over the following few mornings although they quickly dropped off again once Adams’s temper had subsided and he had made a public apology for his behaviour at the ensuing staff meeting. Whilst everyone reluctantly swallowed his humble pie, being forced to erase all knowledge of the bizarre incident from their memories, Adams’ reason for executing such an irrational act made them all howl with laughter up their sleeves.
He had had a bad week!
After this incident, even Norma Shezakowsky admitted to keeping notes on her dealings with Adams, just as Hannah had been doing for as long as she could remember. Norma had even approached Gordon Chester to tell him of her concerns about the rumours of Adams’s affair with Brunhilde but Ewan Hogg had already covered that dangerous ground a while back.
If Brunhilde thought she stood a chance of getting the newly created position of second deputy head at the school, she would soon be disappointed. With Hannah challenging Adams over his alleged affair with the woman in one of her letters and circulating it to the chairman of the governors and the governor who had attended her disciplinary meeting, her chances of getting the post were next to zero. With no cries of ‘defamation of character’ or ‘that’s slanderous’ arriving back from either the headmaster or the chairman of governors each time she wrote one of her letters, Hannah knew she was on solid ground. And everything he wrote to her, she challenged, highlighting his mistakes over his handling of every situation Hannah had been involved in. After all, if anything went to court, there were too many people who had said and seen too many things. Adams was trapped.
And what about Brunhilde? Well, anybody else in her shoes would have been encouraged to move on to another school, pretty quickly.
Don’t you think?

So had Adams really tried to make out she was emotionally unstable? Just as Amelia felt he had done to her? Hannah thought so. And had he really been messing around with the minutes of those few crucial meetings so that history would only get one version of the story, his story? Definitely!
Adams himself must have been psychologically damaged to play such a dangerous game and if he threatened his staff with disciplinary action for not going to morning assembly then Hannah did not stand a chance during his marriage breakdown. It was clear that whenever she went to him for help, it only ever landed her in more trouble. But then, of course, it would.
Because Adams knew she could destroy his career.

Hannah’s secret thoughts were still inevitably on Justin. She had heard through the grapevine his relationship with Ali was continuing, and with them both still being out of work, she wondered how they were financially making ends meet.
‘Apparently, he’s in love with her according to Wallace,’ Hannah related to Lorna. ‘Penelope told her when they spent a couple of weeks together recently and, of course, as you know Penelope has always had a soft spot for him.’
‘Yes, she did but I could never understand why, given his behaviour.’
‘But that’s Justin Rupert for you. When he’s behaving himself, he’s good company.’
‘Yes, but with Penelope there was something more than that. There were always rumours going around that they were having an affair.’
‘Anyway, you’ll never guess what,’ said Hannah, trying to deflect the conversation away from Justin’s peccadilloes.
‘What?’
‘Justin is retraining as a computer technician.’
‘He’s not working with children, though, is he?’ asked Lorna, her face quickly registering her distaste for the man.
‘I hope not!’ replied Hannah.
‘For their sake!’

‘So what is happening to Justin?’ Hannah asked bravely when she bumped into Brunhilde one day outside the school dining hall. ‘Will he be barred from teaching?’
She already knew the answer from her own conversations with Justin but she wanted it straight from the horse’s mouth.
‘Yes, he is barred. I’ve seen the paperwork,’ came the senior manager’s cool reply, seemingly pleased and thankful the man had finally been caught.
‘Does this mean he’s on the Sex Offenders’ Register as well?’
‘Yes.’
Hannah should have asked how long whether he would be on the register but she never felt courageous enough to face the inevitable truth. She imagined it would have been for life because he had actually gone to the furthest limit with Phoebe and goodness knows with how many other sixth formers in his care over the years: by having sex. With Brunhilde’s confirmation Justin had been barred from teaching, Hannah imagined all of the relevant authorities would be in full receipt of what had gone on: the police child protection unit, the education authorities, the department of education, the social services.
But she was more than a little disturbed by the way Brunhilde willingly divulged the strictly confidential information to her.
Breaching confidentiality, Brunhilde?
Yes! In a manner which betrayed it was an everyday occurrence!

Although Justin had become old news since his demise from the school several months previously, Hannah was still highly sensitive and alert towards any sex offender issues reported in the national press. She was also unsurprised when Burper became ill with some sort of nervous condition.
Probably worried for his job given his investigation, she thought. Just like Wally.
And then there was more.
‘You know Bernie Miles used to video boys all of the time, don’t you?’ asked Patricia, one of Hannah’s colleagues in the junior school.
‘No, I didn’t! When?’
‘In the junior boarding house and on official school trips.’
Hannah’s mouth dropped, immediately realizing what Patricia had said. To think, her son had been taught by this man!
‘I warned him to stop on many an occasion because it would have got him into trouble but it didn’t seem to have any effect. He just carried on doing it.’
‘I’ve also heard rumours why he’s come back sooner than expected from his headship in that school he went to in Asia…because of boys. But I haven’t heard anything else. How the hell did he get away with it here, though, especially as staff in the junior school seemed to be aware of his transgressions and continued to let him work? What is he doing now?’
‘I don’t know, although I heard he recently visited the school.’
‘Probably wanting his old job back, I daresay!’
‘I hope not!’
‘Of course, there’s somebody else in the junior school who is fond of doing the same thing…Ed. But I can’t imagine him being into young girls or boys but there again, you never know!’
‘Yes, I know. I always had that feeling about him as well. That sort of behaviour is all very risky nowadays and Ed would be well warned to think twice about doing it.’
‘You know why Justin Rupert left, don’t you?’ asked Hannah, taking the opportunity to widen their conversation to discredit her ex-lover.
‘I heard,’ replied Patricia, simply.
Good, thought Hannah. There was no need for further discussion.
Her work on the grapevine had borne fruit.

The news that Ed was renting a room in Justin’s small cottage came as quite a shock to everyone, particularly because Ed was pretty much a well-liked figure around Queensford’s junior school. Either he had no idea why Justin had been sacked in the first place or he just did not accept it as true and was taking pity on the disgraced and impoverished musician. The two men had always got on reasonably well together but Hannah knew that Justin’s constant desire for his own space would not lend itself to harmonious domesticity, particularly when she heard of Justin’s angry remonstrations with Ed when he attempted to move Justin’s furniture and furnishings around between rooms.
‘What the hell is Ed playing at?’ Hannah asked Lorna, perplexed. ‘Living with Justin?’
‘Yes, it’s all very strange, isn’t it?’
‘Do you think he knows about Justin’s sacking?’
‘I would think so. It would be hard to imagine otherwise.’
When Ed finally moved out from Justin’s cottage to work abroad, his two-year relationship with Laura, a single parent at the school, was in tatters. He tried desperately to make the relationship work, but behind it all, his unhealthy desperation for domestic bliss could not be concealed from the most important people in Laura’s life: her children. Seemingly nice to them when Laura was around, Ed would snap and spit at them behind her back – in the same way Justin had done with Hannah’s two children. It seemed that in their emotional anguish, both men had eventually and inadvertently revealed their true colours.
But Hannah imagined Ed was running away from something else in his life: his unhealthy workplace practices. After all, he did make a lot of videos of his pupils. Did he fear, too, that the authorities would soon catch up with him after Justin had told him about his experiences of the last year?
Or with Justin’s penchant for men, had there been something else going on between the two friends, especially when women were in short supply?
She would have loved to have been a fly.
On Justin and Ed’s wall.

Even in those days, it was quite usual for schools to carry out some form of staff training on child protection issues, albeit brief and low-key. So, when Adams announced that he had arranged a whole day seminar, given by two Child Protection Officers from the local authority, and then tried to justify, unconvincingly, that it had now become normal practice to do so, everyone knew something was dreadfully amiss. Such presentations on this scale, given by professionals in the field, were exceedingly rare. It seemed the sex offender record at Queensford School had been rumbled and Adams was paying the humiliating  price, at last.
For his endless string of cover-ups.

The two Child Protection Officers looked calm and professional as they took their seats behind the table set out for them at the front of the large school hall. The lead officer stood up to begin her introduction and a tense hush fell on the room of junior and senior school teachers. A sea of expectant eyes hungrily followed her every movement.
‘Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Sarah Moses and my colleague sitting next to me, Rachael David. We would both like to thank Mr Adams for allowing us to come and speak to you today as a body, about child protection issues. Some of you we have already met in the course of our work. Some of you may also find yourselves feeling quite uncomfortable at what we are about to discuss, so please feel free to leave the room if you need to. Child abuse is something we all come into contact with at some time or another in our lives.’
Hannah could feel an uncomfortable tenseness creep into her chest and shoulders. These could be the actual professionals directly involved in leading any investigation into allegations of sexual abuse in schools! Mrs Moses made it quite clear that the two officers had encountered Adams and Brunhilde in the course of their work, but in what capacity? After all, it was well-known Adams had tried to bury every single situation involving the sexual relationships between teachers and pupils at the school under the carpet. Had something seeped out? About the bachelors?
Her emotional turmoil made her feel like crying but she knew she would have to keep an outward appearance of calm, to give the impression that this meeting and what would be revealed had no detrimental effect on her at all. She found herself staring intensely at the two women in an attempt to avoid direct eye contact with Adams and the bachelors, sitting directly opposite her on the other side of the hall.
‘Even though there are several different types of child abuse, today we are going to focus on just one area…sexual abuse…’ continued the woman.
Hannah could hardly draw breath, her chest imploding.
‘…and, in particular, sexual relationships between staff and pupils.’
Her instincts were correct! The room fell into a deathly silence. Everybody now knew! The reason for their visit began and ended with the bachelors!
‘There are several different definitions of the term ‘paedophile’ but whichever one you choose to consider they are all people who have a sexual attraction towards children. The definition of a child, as far as schools are concerned, is someone who is up to eighteen years of age but if the pupil is still in the care of a teacher, then that teacher must not engage in any sexual activity with that pupil right up to their nineteenth birthday. I cannot emphasis strongly enough that it is now a criminal offence for any teacher to engage in such a relationship with a pupil.’
My goodness, thought Hannah, hanging on to the woman’s every word. So I’ve been right all along! It is a criminal offence!
‘Any teacher found guilty of such an action would obviously lose their job and could incur a penalty of up to a two-year prison sentence.’
Hannah glanced triumphantly across the room at Adams once she realized Justin could be sent down for his behaviour with Phoebe. She found Adams staring at her and so she calmly returned his stare. He was beginning to look pale once he realised she had been right all along. She had been the strong one in reporting Justin and he had been the weak one in suppressing her and supporting and covering up for Justin. No wonder he tried to downplay what she had to report about Sissie Singer; it would have added oil to the fire as far as Justin was concerned. And the fact the minutes of their meeting about Sissie, who had been just fifteen years of age at the time, had been destroyed upon Adams’s secretary’s admission and substituted with incorrect ones in their place, smacked of a conspiratorial cover-up! It firmed her resolve to continue writing her letters to him, to challenge his behaviour and what he had written about her, to ensure history would continue to see both sides of the story – and the truth.
‘There are many reasons for teaching staff not to inform on their colleagues suspected of abuse…’
Hannah’s heart pounded in her chest. She felt sick with the tension continuously gripping at her stomach.
I will have to keep my face motionless, she thought. I mustn’t give anything away!
‘There may be recriminations for doing so, which may include ostracizing that person…’
That happened to me, she thought!
‘Also the teacher might ask: ‘Did I imagine it?’ or ‘Did I get it wrong?’
I felt like that, too!
‘Whether these feelings are acceptable or not, teachers have a legal and moral duty to inform the headteacher or the school Child Protection Officer about abuse of any kind.’
I did that, she thought! And look what happened to me!
‘It is also the solemn duty of the headteacher to keep the confidentiality of any member of his staff who reveals information of this kind about another member of staff.’
Hannah sat bolt upright. Although Adams, as headmaster, or Brunhilde, as Child Protection Officer, may not have told Fat Boye about her reporting Justin’s flirtation with Sissie, one of them certainly had told him she was having counselling, imaginary though it was!
‘And, of course, it is also the right of the person being accused that they are kept in full contact with the details of the accusations being made against them.’
Hannah looked at Adams once again, wondering whether he had kept Justin informed of the details of her allegations about Sissie. She caught Fat Boye quickly glancing her way, his sheepish look betraying the realization that Justin was a paedophile.
In that he was sexually attracted to the pupils in his care.
‘All sexual abusers engage in grooming activity,’ explained Mrs Moses, continuing on with her presentation without a break. ‘First of all, they work to gain the trust and confidence of their victim. Then they create opportunities to be alone with them. Then, after the abuse has begun, they make threats or promises so that their victims keep the secrecy of their activities. And then finally, they maintain the relationship for their own personal gratification.’
Images of Justin, Grunt, Flirt and Burper flashed through her mind. Surely their behaviour could be interpreted as grooming? Drinking with pupils in their spare time, their leering looks and comments, the text messaging, the clubbing, kissing their pupils, the rumours of sex after the Leavers’ Ball, Justin having sex with Phoebe in his office. The list was endless! Hannah gazed expressionlessly at Grunt and Flirt sitting opposite her, their eyes firmly fixed on the speaker, against their will. Where else could they pin their stares?
‘Once sexual abuse has been reported, it must be recorded by the school exactly how it was reported by the victim or by the teacher reporting it and it must be recorded without opinion. It is then the duty of the headmaster to inform the local Child Protection Officers as part of the next step in the process.’
And yet another infringement by Adams, with regard to my reporting the Sissie Singer situation, she thought! The notes his secretary typed out were grossly incorrect! And he enforced the opinion on those at the meeting that no further action should be taken! Did this mean not taking any further action against Justin?
‘In the last year,’ began Mrs Moses in her final summing up of the morning’s discussion, ‘there have been six teachers reported for sexual abuse in this area.’
Hannah’s heart stopped. How many of them had been from Queensford School? And who could it have been? She knew Adams had not intended to report Justin, Wally or Wyatt, the ones who had lost their jobs. And what about Grunt, Burper and Flirt, the bachelors who had long reputations with engaging in inappropriate behavior with female pupils at the school? And what of Bernie Miles in the junior school and Danny the musician? Were any of these included in the six?
What sort of can of worms had been opened up as a result of that anonymous letter?

‘Did you notice how uncomfortable Grunt, Flirt and Burper looked during the presentation?’ asked Lorna during a break in the presentation for lunch.
‘I sure did,’ replied Hannah, desperate to talk over the events of the day so far. ‘They’ve got a lot to be uncomfortable about. And did you notice how Fat Boye and his cronies were asking searching questions, checking whether Justin had been reasonably accused or not? Did you hear them probing the age thing?’
‘Yes, I did. I must admit, I thought of you at the start of all of this. And then I couldn’t help but feel very uncomfortable myself when it all got going.’
‘I did as well. I could hardly swallow or breathe and I didn’t dare look over at Adams for ages, not until she mentioned the two-year sentence. And did you notice how Burper walked out half way through the information on grooming?’
‘Yes. That was very strange,’ Lorna replied, giving one of her pensive looks.
‘That smacked of guilt to me,’ Hannah theorized, his investigation by Adams still a secret she kept very close to her chest. ‘Going back to Fat Boye, though, he probably brainwashed all of his cronies that Justin’s behaviour was acceptable but they all certainly looked ill at ease when the Child Protection Officers highlighted the true situation regarding teachers having sex with their pupils.’
‘Talking of paedophiles, did I tell you Wally Timpson rang me the other day?’
‘No, you didn’t. How is he?’
‘Well, you know I told you he’d broken his two year parole over his step-daughter, Zoey, it now seems there may be a chance he’s going down!’
‘What? I don’t believe it! What’s he done to deserve that?’
‘He’s been stalking Zoey again and Angie’s informed the police. Serves his own right, I say! If he can’t control himself, then he deserves to go down.’
As it later turned out, Wally avoided prison because he became gravely ill.
He had learned a dreadfully painful lesson.

There was no doubt the training day boosted Hannah’s confidence in her position with Adams and she was pleased to see how the key players in recent events were as affected as she was, albeit in different ways.
‘It was a good day,’ she declared to a sheepish-looking Brunhilde at the end of the presentation. ‘It’s just a pity it didn’t happen a few years ago when the last paedophile was sent down. I just hope my involvement with the most recent one hasn’t ruined my career.’
Brunhilde smiled back sweetly, her inner turmoil and panic visible on her drawn, aging face. She dared not utter a word to counter Hannah’s contentious reference to paedophiles this time!
‘Well, my department recently had a musician who’d indulged in this sort of behaviour,’ declared Boris Arnold privately to her, with a wry smile. The two colleagues had never discussed Justin, although it was the opinion of the head of economics that Boris was someone who would have had a very good motive to write the infamous anonymous letter about the troublesome musician.
‘There were certainly a few lessons learnt there, today!’ declared Norma Shezakowsky, the uncomfortable look she had sported all day having now disappeared.
When Hannah bumped into Terry Adams the following day, she took advantage of rubbing a little salt into his wounds.
‘It was an interesting day yesterday, Mr Adams,’ she declared, smiling. ‘But it would have been nice to stop the discussion at various points and discuss them with you, particularly as they were so poignant to my own circumstances. This sort of training day should have happened a long time ago; it may have prevented a lot of what’s happened here over the last few years.’
‘Well, at least we agree on one thing, Hannah,’ came his arrogant reply.
‘Just the one thing, Mr. Adams! Don’t get too used to it,’ she joked, thinking of her letters to him and wondering whether her off-the-cuff reply would warrant yet another disciplinary meeting. He was that sort; overly sensitive and fractious.
‘Well, Bertie. It’s official. What Justin was up to is now illegal,’ announced Hannah triumphantly, when she reached the quiet confines of the biology department.
‘I’ve always known that sort of behaviour was a no-no,’ he quickly replied, unaware Hannah knew all about his bedding Phoebe following Fat Boye’s barbecue, just a year after she had left the school.
‘Well, if you knew, why didn’t you warn me about him?’
‘Well, I tried at one point.’
‘Yes, I remember you telling me to be careful because he used people…
But you didn’t mention anything else.’

‘They don’t know what you’re going to do,’ suggested Tessa, when Hannah rang her to relate what had happened that day. ‘It’s obvious the ball is now in your court.’
‘Well, they’ve certainly tried their best to keep me quiet. Think what would have happened if I’d have lost my job after my disciplinary meeting and gone to the press! They must have been shitting it!’
‘Yes. I would say they’re waiting to see what happens, to see what you are going to do. There’s no doubt now that Queensford School is on the map as far as this sort of behaviour is concerned. It’s also obvious they’re keeping a lid on this because if it exploded, it could expose the school.’
Hannah reflected on how her instincts had been correct all along and how she should have worried less about reporting Justin for his flirtation with Sissie. It also seemed that the way the bachelors had treated her was just part-and-parcel of the whole process of reporting allegations of sexual abuse. She had just been very unfortunate in being sucked into a relationship with one of them. But, despite all of the upset, there was now no doubting Justin’s present status.
As an official Sex Offender.

In those last few weeks of the summer term, Hannah began to have very vivid dreams about Justin. In one, he was in the pub with Fat Boye, saying sorry to her but as he opened his mouth to utter the words, fire flew out from a long, fiery tongue, which he held out as far as he could towards her. In another, she saw him in an unfamiliar street, smiling and helping people, something he rarely did. It gave the impression he was settling down to village life and reinventing himself as someone who the community would like and accept. He had a child with him and was being fatherly towards it; he was making a go at family life. It was hard to imagine this would ever be the case with Justin, although the vision made her realize he would at least try to achieve some form of stabilizing domesticity with his new lover, Ali. But how long this stability would last before boredom set in was anybody’s guess; it was almost sadly assured that his sexual abuse when he was a child would prevent such a harmonious blending of lives in such a simple existence.
She reflected on how Justin had talked superficially about his life, filtering out only small pieces of information to satisfy her innocently-asked questions. Even to this day, she had little idea what his earlier life encompassed other than that gained through an occasional glimpse into a wicked and sordid past. He would persistently over-react in many situations, a well-practiced mechanism he used to protect himself, and on the topic of sexuality, it was abundantly clear he had dabbled with both sexes which he relayed to her in dribs and drabs over a long period of time. Had he revealed sooner what was going on in his mind, Hannah might have had time to take stock of it all and end her relationship with him before it had properly begun.
But then, that was precisely what he would have desperately wanted to avoid. To have risked losing yet another good woman in his grasp was more that he could psychologically suffer. He needed to get his emotional claws into her first and then scrape her raw, from the inside out.
Which was what he achieved with every woman who ever had the misfortune to meet him.

‘One of my friends had his password stolen by Mr Lowe,’ one of the boys in her house announced during one of their weekly tutorials.
‘Really?’ Hannah replied, hoping the boy would reveal more about her disgraced South African ex-colleague, Wyatt Lowe.
‘Yes. Mr Lowe told my friend he would turn off his computer for him and it was then that he looked at child pornography on the Internet.’
‘So what happened next?’ prompted Hannah, stunned the young boy knew what Wyatt had been up to.
‘We were told Mr Lowe went back home to South Africa because his mother was ill but we all knew he’d been sent back home because he’d been caught.’
Hannah was shocked; here was the evidence that pupils in the junior school were in full possession of Wyatt’s penchant for child pornography whilst Adams had thought he had done a good job of containing the affair in an attempt to prevent the information from leaking to the press. The next time she bumped into Ester, Wyatt’s long-term friend, Hannah was determined to find out more.
‘So how’s Wyatt getting on in Pretoria?’ she asked, in a nonchalant manner.
‘My God, Hannah, he’s trawling the streets for boys! I’m really worried about him,’ Ester replied.
Hannah didn’t like to say anything but she knew it would come to this.
‘He’s also going to move to Cape Town,’ continued Ester.
‘What is he going to do there?’ asked Hannah, expecting to hear that Wyatt had at last been told to leave the teaching profession.
‘He’s got a job in another boarding school and he’s really happy. I’m going to go out there and visit him next summer.’
Hannah made some noise about how pleased she was Wyatt had at last settled down and found happiness but underneath her facade, she was seething. How could someone like that still be getting away with chasing young boys, and remaining undetected by the authorities? In this country, accessing child pornography websites carried a five-year conviction, although if Wyatt admitted his guilt to a senior police officer he would have received a caution and forced to sign the Sex Offenders’ Register. Some of Ester’s words from the past echoed in her ears: ‘Wyatt wouldn’t harm the boys. I know he wouldn’t’.
How much longer would it be before he was caught?

After Brunhilde hit one of the boys in Hannah’s house quite violently over the head with a textbook, Hannah knew she had to take some sort of action, particularly when the boy started to complain of a headache. As Child Protection Officer, it was quite unacceptable Brunhilde should do such a thing and when Hannah witnessed Brunhilde’s remonstrations with the boy, citing her tiredness and his cheekiness to justify her actions, she knew the senior manager was in trouble.
Writing firstly to the boy’s parents and then to the headmaster explaining the situation, Hannah placed copies of both letters in a plain white envelope into Brunhilde’s pigeon hole. With her name hand-written on the front and then sealed with a piece of sticky tape for security, Brunhilde would not pick up the letters until the start of the new term in September, by which time Hannah would have been long gone from the school.
Glancing though Brunhilde’s pigeonhole just a couple of days later, Hannah noticed the sealed white envelope was still in place, seemingly safe. Or was it? She picked out the envelope, noticing that the front was curiously blank. Suspecting some dirty work was afoot, Hannah took the envelope home to investigate further and, using gloves to protect any fingerprints the sender would have left, she carefully opened the envelope. It was empty! Someone had removed the two letters and substituted her envelope with a new one!
Clearly, such an action could only have been orchestrated by one person, someone who had a vested interest in protecting Brunhilde, and himself.
Terry Adams.

‘So why didn’t you tell me about Justin propositioning your daughter?’ Hannah asked on the spur of the moment when she noticed Brian Tarten hovering near the outdoor notice boards opposite her classroom.
‘He didn’t proposition her,’ the head of the sixth form replied, defensively.
‘Oh yes he did, because Justin told me. If you had reported this to the senior management team at the time then I would have been saved the heartache and stress of being in a relationship with him.’
It was plain to see Brian was feeling uncomfortable. After all, he had avoided his legal duty in reporting the grooming activity of his colleague to save his daughter from shame and embarrassment; his lack of action had also allowed Justin’s behaviour to continue, unchecked.
But Hannah cared little for his embarrassment; she was now getting everything off her chest.
At any cost to herself.

Even though Gordon Chester had openly broadcast to everyone that Justin was barred from ever visiting the school site again, Hannah would still occasionally take her bin bag in the same old obsessive way to the skip behind the music department, to check whether Justin’s car was parked there. It seemed she was expecting it to magically appear at any time.
And then, like someone had turned back the clock, there it was! His car! She peered into the untidily kept car and noticed several familiar items: his old dark green trainers, his umbrella, some sheet music, and several odd bits of paper with telephone numbers visibly scribbled on them. She hurriedly wrote down the numbers, remonstrating with herself whether she should ring them, to ask whether their owners knew him. Did they have children? Was he teaching them? Should she tell them who she was and what he had been up to? Although she later tried ringing the numbers, with her heart in her mouth each time, she eventually decided to let the whole issue drop. It seemed ridiculous to get into any further trouble; the man just did not seem worth it.
The following day, there was music, floating towards her. It was coming from the direction of the school chapel and immediately she sensed something important was up. Was this the reason why Justin’s car was on site once again? She gingerly climbed the chapel steps, hoping to peer in through its large glass doors. And, yes! There he was! Playing the school organ…with Ali by his side! Instinctively, she needed to talk to him. How stupid of her, she thought. She carefully turned the doorknob, but it was locked. So why was he playing the school organ? And with Ali there, too?
It’s got to be Bertie’s wedding, she thought. Yes, it’s Bertie’s wedding!
And with that, she slowly and silently stole away to avoid being seen.
She had always got on reasonably well with Bertie but when she was the only one in the biology department to be left off his wedding invitations, she knew it was the end of the road. She had supported him through thick and thin during his time as head of department, including a protracted period of over-work and self-doubt over whether he was doing the right thing in marrying someone who was twenty five years younger than himself. Having met his future wife at a party Ester had arranged almost four years before, there had been much tongue-wagging when he started to date the nineteen-year old gap student to the extent that several of his colleagues, pupils and even their parents, openly declared their lack of respect for the man. He was, after all, well into his forties and undoubtedly another bachelor who enjoyed young flesh!
But Hannah knew the reason why she had been left off the guest list: Bertie had asked Justin to play the organ at his wedding long before Justin had lost his job. It was Justin’s wedding gift to the happy couple and now the wedding had arrived, Justin had returned.
‘Did you know Justin’s back on site playing the organ?’ Hannah asked Gordon Chester at the first opportunity, agitation evident in her tone of voice.
‘Yes. He’s practicing for Bertie’s wedding.’
‘What? You mean to say he’s been given permission to do that even though he’s been disgraced?’
‘Yes. The headmaster gave him permission.’
‘I don’t believe it! Surely, this can’t be right? The man’s lost his job because of his sexual abuse of pupils in his care and here is Terry Adams giving him permission to come back into the school?’
‘Yes, but I don’t think he’ll do any harm,’ Gordon replied, evenly.
‘That’s not the point!’ exclaimed Hannah.
But there was no getting away from it, Justin was going to abuse the chink in Adams’ armour even to the point of parking Ali’s car right outside Fat Boye’s flat, announcing to the whole world: ‘Look at me! I’m back!’
I’ll just have to wait patiently until the wedding is over and then, hopefully, he’ll disappear again, she thought, sadly.
When the day of the wedding dawned, Hannah was preparing herself for the worst. With her flat just yards away from the chapel, she would be able to see and hear the wedding in full flow whilst the happy couple tied the knot in the pretty Victorian building. She had already stolen a sneak preview of the inside of the chapel the night before the wedding, which bedecked in flowers and what seemed like bed sheets, looked more like a weird Druid festival than a modern day wedding. With the post-wedding party also taking place outside the chapel on Middle Lawn, the whole day would be a test of Hannah’s ability to turn a blind eye.
Interested in seeing the unfolding events of the wedding, Hannah made her way to one of the empty rooms in the boarding house where she lived. With the school already broken up for the summer holiday and Iain and his wife away on holiday, she was able to swiftly and safely move into an elevated position from where she could watch the post-wedding revelries. She did not dare go anywhere near the chapel doors to spy on the actual service itself; she had managed to resist that temptation but watching the party from a secret, safe distance was quite another thing. But there was no sign of Justin or Ali on Middle Lawn, and she wondered whether they had stayed inside the chapel, away from the many burning yet embarrassed questions from Justin’s ex-colleagues who would want to know how he was surviving unemployment since losing his job. But then, when she thought of it further, there was only one option open to Justin that day.
To disappear off site as quickly as he had arrived.

The last letter Hannah wrote to Terry Adams made her feel victorious. Amongst its complicated details of their continuing arguments about the inaccuracies of notes of their meetings together, Hannah tried to include some of the valuable information she had gleaned from the recent Child Protection Officers’ presentation.
‘I may never use the term ‘paedophile’ again,’ she wrote contentiously, referring to the Christmas Eve situation, ’so I will use the legally accepted term instead.’
She may have been hauled over the coals for calling Justin a paedophile but now it was official, confirmed by Brunhilde, and the two Child Protection Officers.
Justin was a Sex Offender and that was what she would call him in the future.

Hannah understood that once she had left Queensford School for the last time then that would further expose her to Fat Boye’s lies and elaborations. But it was she who had the reputation and respect as a professional, not him. Even Norma Shezakowsky was being courteous towards her of late, probably because she had begun to appreciate any future court action involving Justin would seriously involve her as well. With the understanding that her anger with such two-faced people might erupt once again at some distant point in the future, Hannah knew it was a good time to bale out from the sinking ship, particularly when rumours of a more sinister nature went around the common room: of Adams’ own disciplinary meeting with the governors over his alleged affair with Brunhilde.
With Adams’ words of warning still ringing in her ears to keep Justin’s behaviour a secret: ‘It wouldn’t look good for the school, Hannah. It wouldn’t look good for the school’, she knew she had to get out.
Before the sex offender bomb exploded.
One day.