Private School Matters

I watch Evelyn as she kneels at the toilet. She seems to have stopped throwing up, and any possible immediate danger has passed. It's time I step back and put some distance between myself and my daughter. This is why I can't argue with her. Every time we spiral out of control. It's like we have some kind of feedback loop! I get angrier, and she gets; sick. Well, not really. This is the first time it's been this bad.

Going back into the kitchen, I open a bottle of gin and mix it with a little soda. It tastes awful, but it slows my drinking down. Lately, I've found that it's the only way I can function in my job with the county and keep Evelyn in line. Fucking Sam. I need you now more than ever! I make a quick calculation. It's too early over there to call. What can he do anyway? It's still two months until his next leave. Not that he has any pull here. I'm the one who's cultivating the connections in this city.

There's a faint noise down the hall and then a slam. I down the drink with a grimace. A hearing on Monday. Not much time. These laws really streamlined getting school-aged lawbreakers out of the general population in a hurry. There was someone I could call. Lucille Kirtland. Rumor has it that her son had a similar issue a few months ago, but nothing came of it. He only missed one day of school. It may have not been anything, but I had to find out. I pull over my hefty Rolodex and flip to the K's. Punching in the number, I wait a few moments.

"Kirtland residence."

"Lucille? This is Charlotte Newberry. How are you doing tonight?"

"Fine. It's quite late, Charlotte. Is there a problem?"

I think about how I am going to bring this up. "You can say that. Your son, Robert. I had heard he had gotten into a spot of trouble a while back."

There's a healthy pause on the line. "It wasn't very serious. Did you hear something?"

"Well. You know how this town is. I just; had an issue that came up and wondered if you had any advice?"

Another long pause. "Did something happen to Evelyn?"

My hopes rise a bit. She makes the connection without hardly any prompting. "Can you keep this in confidence?"

"Not over the phone. I'm coming right over." There is a click, and I stare at the receiver. What on earth? Sure enough, a few minutes later, my close acquaintance arrives at my doorstep. "I'm sorry about that, Charlotte. Is Evelyn here?"

"Yes. She's in her room."

"Thank goodness. What are the charges?"

I'm both heartened and disconcerted at how fast Lucille has guessed at what my problem is. I give her a quick rundown of what I know. "...and the boy she was with is now at the station. His family is a little better off than us, so maybe we can get a good solicitor."

Lucille shakes her head. "It won't matter. It's almost like traffic court up there. The judge just about always sides with the police."

I bite my lip. "So; what happened to Robert?"

The raven-haired woman gestures behind her. "Can we walk?"

I look into the house. I didn't want Evelyn to do anything rash. "Just around back."

She nods, and we step away from the door. "Robert was standing up for a sixth-year girl who's being harassed. It got into a shoving match, and guess who threw a punch."

"Your son."

"We both plead our case, but it was useless. The Deputy Headmaster referred it to the police. I wasn't allowed to take him home."

Okay. So I could tell she was very leery to tell me what happened. I let her take her time.

"I needed help. There was only one person I could think of."

I knit my brows. "Who is it, then?"

"Promise me. Not a word to anyone. Not even your daughter."

I'm taken aback by her demeanor. "I promise."

"It was Edward."

"Eddie?"

"Yes. He cleared things up for us."

Edward Chamberlain. The head of the education board for the county. I know he's the son of a wealthy family and is doing quite well for himself. We had gone to the same school years ago and became friends of a sort. He actually introduced Sam to me in our sixth year, but then we had a falling out shortly after. I always found him to be a posh git when our paths infrequently crossed. "Why did he do that for you?" The woman stands there, completely silent. "Oh, no. You didn't..."

"I can't say what happened. Just say that we came to an understanding."

I lower my voice to a harsh whisper. "He couldn't have. That's blackmail! That's rape!"

"He didn't. At least not the last."

"He... What?"

"I swear."

"So. After; whatever you did; he fixed things?"

"Yes. You will need to call him soon. Once the papers get filed before the magistrate, there is nothing he can do."

Not much time then. Would it be better to just send Evelyn to reformatory and deal with my failure as a mother? I can handle the people at work. The society? At least a dozen of the older ladies would cut me out completely. The rest would not want to taint their good name and meet in public for some time. Damn! But what would Eddie want? It wouldn't hurt to feel him out if Lucille couldn't be more specific. Hell! If she could get enough on him, maybe the two of us here could work together! "Okay then. Do I just call him?"

"I'll handle it. The less you do, the better for now."

"Okaaay." That's a strange thing to say. Am I being watched? "Tell him I'd like to meet somewhere public as soon as possible."

She nods. "I'll call you tomorrow morning and let you know."

We say our goodbyes, and Lucille drives off. Eddie must really have something on her friend. Although a widower, she definitely wouldn't do anything untoward under normal circumstances. Slowly walking back inside, I pass by Evelyn's door and pause. It's very quiet in there. I open it to be sure. "Evelyn?"

"Yes?"

I can barely hear her in the dark room. It's almost as if I can feel her despair somehow. There's no way I can come closer. I might make promises I don't know I can keep. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"Whatever."

I keep my mouth in check, barely. Closing the door, I enter my room and start to undress. My mind keeps turning the problem over. All these stupid laws. Was Eddie part of this? I would have to be very careful not to do something that would ruin Lucille. But can I bring down Mr. Chamberlain despite that?

* * *

Early Saturday morning, I get the call. "He'll meet you at the cafe in old town for brunch."

"Did he say anything else?"

"Not really. Just be prompt."

"Lucille. What am I getting into here?"

That long pause again. "Talk to him. I can say no more." She ends the call suddenly.

Well! This isn't very encouraging. Still, it's in a public place. I change into a light dress and short heels appropriate for walking outside. My thick hair is a real chore, though. This 'feathered shag' hairstyle Princess Diana made so popular is really hard to maintain. Especially if you're a brunette. Using a considerable amount of spray, I think it'll hold as long as the wind doesn't pick up. Heading into the hallway, I remember that my daughter has only come out of her room once to eat. "Evelyn! I'm going to lunch! Don't leave for any reason!" I think I get a mumbled reply. We'll just have to talk after this meeting, and then I can decide on how to proceed. After a short drive, I find a car park and walk briskly to the café Lucille mentioned to me. It's pretty busy this time of day. So much so, I have to wait just outside the door.

"Madame Newberry?"

I turn and see the maître d'. "Yes?"

He smiles. "Bonjour, Madame. You're expected. Please come." The man escorts me through the crowd, and I see a few familiar faces raise an eyebrow as I queue barge through them.

"This way, please."

I notice we're passing the main dining area and walk through a set of double doors to the back. We turn into a small room next to the kitchen, where I find Mr. Chamberlain rising from a private table. "Charlotte! Welcome. It's been so long."

I pause, looking at him for a moment. At forty, his skinny frame has filled out a bit since school. His dusty blond hair is still full and combed professionally. The thin gold-rimmed glasses and light tan suit all speak of a carefully refined appearance that he's maintaining fastidiously. "Hello Edward." I look at the small room. "You eat here often?"

"Just a little private spot. Come. Sit down."

The maître d' leaves, and a server asks us what we're drinking.

"A mimosa for me. And you, Charlotte?"

I think it better to avoid alcohol for the moment. "Orange juice and water, please." We're then left alone and stare at each other. Eddie seems to be evaluating my mood.

"I would ask how you're doing, but I think it's obvious. Our mutual friend told me you're in a bit of a fix?"

"You can say that. What did she tell you?"

"Oh, just a similar problem our friend had to deal with. The travails of youth, I guess."

The drinks arrive. I really can't stand the man. He just exudes an air of self-importance. I try to hide my distaste as a menu is handed to me. She just leaves without a further word, but a moment later, the chef enters and introduces himself. Soon I'm being given a thorough rundown of each entree, and I try to keep up through his French accent. I quickly notice there are no prices on the menu. If you have to ask... I choose a small plate with eggs, mushrooms, and foie gras.

"Bon choix, Madame." He then nods to Eddie and bustles out.

"Excellent service, wouldn't you agree?"

"The best money can buy, I'm sure."

He sniffs. "You couldn't be jealous of my success?"

"Ha! You mean your parent's wealth."

"It helps. But I've made a nice sum on my own. Connections are important, as you know."

Here we go. Time to get down to business. "I do. That's why I'm here."

He sips his drink. "No need to rush. This is just a meal between old friends, is it not?"

I sigh. He wants to drag this out. Keep me on edge. I gather my patience. "Yes, but we haven't been friends for a very long time."

He nods slowly. "Not since the end of school. Samuel and I lost touch as well."

"You weren't jealous, were you?"

"No. I was sad that he started spending all his time with you, but; I wished him the best."

"Yes. You were his best man. I remember you not talking to me much."

He shrugs. "I seem to remember you not wanting me to hang around."

"We were getting on with our lives. I'm sorry if I barely remember." In fact, a few things did stand out in my mind. I had started to think of Eddie as a third wheel the last few weeks of school. I did go out of my way to push him away. He was just so; annoying!

"School was rough at the end. Do you remember Mistress Grotz?"

I roll my eyes. "Ah, yes. Our head for the last year. She ruled with an iron fist."

His eyebrow goes up. "Funny you would say that."

"You seem to have gotten through it fine." This is uncomfortable ground, so I try to change the subject. "Head of the county board?"

"Yes. Yes. Just one of the distractions I deal with. Ah! The food!"

The server begins to place the plates in front of us, and we sit in silence until she leaves. I take my first of several delicious bites, and then I see him look up.

"Now we can talk without interruption. Please go ahead."

"Did Lu..." He raises a hand "...our mutual friend, tell you about the citation?"

"No. Again, I like to be careful about what is said, and our friend agrees to keep it that way. Now go ahead. Tell me all."

I slowly describe the citation and summons to Edward. "...I know my girl isn't the most responsible, but she doesn't deserve this."

He smirks. "I think you mean you don't, Charlotte."

"That's besides the point. The laws are too restrictive and beg for abuse."

"That as it may be. I still think you want to keep your reputation clear; or am I wrong?"

I'm starting to get angry. "If I must say it, yes. So. Can you help me?"

"For an old friend? Of course. But I'm going to want something out of you first."

I look at him coldly. "What would that be?"

"Come by my place tonight at seven, and we shall discuss it. Don't call. Don't contact our friend. This will be just between me and you."

"Are you suggesting..."

"I am suggesting nothing." He fishes out a fifty note.

Is he going to bribe me?! "Put your money away, Eddie! I will..."

He laughs mirthlessly. "What? You think so little of me?"

The man rises from the table and begins to storm out. I push back the chair just before he heads through the door. "Hold on, Eddie. I just want to be clear about what you want here."

"Not now. At my place. Come at seven, or don't come at all. And dress nicely." With that, he's gone.

I sit there with my mouth agape. A busboy comes in and begins to clean up. There is nothing for it but to just leave. The absolute gall of the man! I yank my keys out and have to jerk to get my car door open. It's all I can do not to gun the engine, but the last thing I need is another citation. All I can think about is his smarmy face and how I want to slap it. Well! That decides that, I suppose. Lucille was blackmailed and is too ashamed to talk about what she did. At least my friend isn't married. But what about me? This is just too awful to think about.

Arriving back at my house, I get out of the car, march in, and throw my handbag in the general direction of the counter. Still breathing heavily, I try to calm myself. One glass of gin. That will be all. I don't even bother with the soda.

"Mom?"

I turn to my miscreant daughter. "What?!"

She takes a step back. "I heard a crash..."

"Never you mind!"

She flees from my wrath. I squeeze the glass in my hand. Luckily for me, it has quite thick walls, for I would have surely shattered it. I place the drink on the counter and force it away, even though I'm shaking. God, I needed it. My mouth waters for a sip, but it was time to face facts. I must talk with my daughter about her future. To do that, I have to be stone sober. I knock, but there's no answer. My heart skips a beat, and I open the door. Evelyn is on her side in her pyjamas, just lying there facing away from me.

"Get out," I hear her mumble.

"After we talk."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"We have to." I step into the room and get that strange feeling I can never put my finger on. It can't be just my nerves. I take a moment to settle down. I'm the one in charge. Gritting my teeth, I sit on the edge of the bed. "This will be hard for both of us."

"Yeah. Hard for you."

I bite my tongue. "Not as much as for you." We sit in silence for a while.

"I swear, I didn't know it was past curfew."

I take a slow breath. "What were you doing there?"

"I was doing something--something that I always wanted to do."

"Public indecency with Thomas Howard?"

"No mother. God no!"

"What then?" She continues to lie there. I give her a moment.

"I was taking pictures with him. I want to be a model."

"A model?! What kind of pictures were you taking?!"

"Just fashion and posing. I was showing off a little bit. Stuff like in my magazines."

"Was that what the police said was indecent?"

"No. We were away in the woods. They saw us kissing when we got back."

"That's all?"

The teen rolls over. "Well; I mean, we kissed a lot."

"Ah! Here it comes."

"Nothing happened, mom. Tom is nice and all, but I figured he'd get fresh. When he did, I ended it there."

"So you were leading him on?"

"Well, yeah," she says defensively.

"What about the indecent exposure?"

"I hurt Tom. He tried pressing up against me, so I pushed him away. We were just looking at the mark."

"That's all?"

"That's everything. The constables came up then."

Looking out for teens like them. They were not the first to get caught there, I'm sure. My daughter is a conniving young lady; there's no doubt, but that is between me and her. Not the state. Not for kissing or being out when it's still light.

"How bad is it there, mom?"

"Pretty. Discipline is; harsh. I hear the matrons can be..."

"Cruel?"

"Yes."

She lies back on her side. "I just wanted to go for it. Do what I dream about."

"I'd rather you go to university. They have art programs you could study."

"Not much chance of that now. Not with this and my grades."

I sit there, thinking. "If you had to do this over, would you seriously consider continuing your education?"

Evelyn shrugs. "Again, fat chance now."

"Just tell me."

"I suppose so. Like an art academy?"

"Just not modeling. After this is over; don't pursue it."

The young lady buries her head in the pillow. "Yeah. After it's over."

I want to try to comfort her, but I dare not reach out. I always feel uneasy when I do. It's better she doesn't know what I'm considering anyway. "You rest. I'll make something nice for dinner before I go."

"Another social event?"

"You can say that. Come out when you're ready." All I get is a nod. Getting up to leave, I can't believe I'm actually entertaining even the possibility. This is what I want, right? I avoid any social stigma, and she goes to university. Then again, every time I talk seriously with my daughter, she always seems to get her way.

* * *

I stand in the middle of my room after my shower, still debating with myself. Yes, I'm married; but Sam didn't answer when I called earlier. I'm on my own, and I have to make this decision for the three of us. Damn him.

I glance over at the mirror. No matter how much tennis or jazzercise I do, my figure just won't get back to the size six it used to be. Don't get me wrong. I'm perfectly healthy, and all that extra weight is evenly proportioned: including my now D cup breasts.

Dress nice, he said. I pull out a long, burgundy gown and place it in front of my naked body. No. I throw it on the pile of rejects. I need to look like I'm all business. Someone who shouldn't be trifled with. The black skirt then. And it's just below the knee. A red silk top? Okay, but over that, the short black jacket with shoulder pads.

The undergarments? Not that he'll see them, I promise myself. Just the black satin briefs. The bra? The extra support wire one. Time to push the ladies up a bit. If he stares, then I'll know what's up. Then my thigh-high black hose with four-inch heels slide on one by one.

Now for the makeup. Rouge. A little blush. Sharp eyeliner and dark lids. Matching red lips for the top. I step back and set my face into a disinterested frown. Perfect.

I grab my keys and pass Evelyn, who's watching the tele. Well, if you count staring in its general direction really watching. "I'm off. I'm not exactly sure when I'll be back, but I hope it won't be too late."

"Yes, mother."

I can feel her despair. I swear it's right in the air between us. "Please, Evelyn, don't do anything rash. I'll; do what I can."

"Yeah."

I grow more worried by her listlessness every minute. Getting into my car, I start to drive into the country. Hopefully, this won't take very long. The old Chamberlain estate is just a few kilometres outside the city proper. This gives me a chance to think about what I'm going to do. I would just have to be firm. If he tries to blackmail me, it's over, whatever the consequences.

The sun is still well up as I pull into the long drive. Trees line the crushed rock road, and then I finally see the manor at long last. As a teen, I had been out here a few times to visit Eddie, and I always thought it was too big for the family to maintain. By the late sixties, it had started to run down, in my opinion. Obviously, Eddie is doing much better these days. The plants are well kept, and the entire front looks almost as good as when it was first built due to a recent restoration.

As I drive up, I see a few nice autos parked to one side near the four-car garage. Are these his? Parking near them, I get out and make my way to the front entrance. I have to be careful, as my heels threaten to slip on the pea gravel everywhere. Reaching the door, the old-fashioned bell pull is still there. After ringing it, the entrance opens, and I'm greeted by a familiar face. "Mr. Werthers?"