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Reaction set in as Louise followed Mary McMillan to the main School Office. As they reached the School Office, the Secretary took Louise’s arm.
“You’re right, he’s scum,” said the Secretary. “I’m Mary McMillan. I heard every word, Louise. You were screaming and he was shouting. Not at the start. At the end. He said he would kill you.”
“He won’t,” said Louise. “If I make a complaint to the Board, will you back me up?”
Louise realised that Mary had not seen her with the knife. Mary McMillan obviously thought that Bannister had threatened her with a knife to force her to have sex with him.
“I can say that I heard him threaten you as I approached the door, and when I opened it he was holding a knife at your throat,” Mary was quite calm and her voice was determined.
“He used me when I was a kid,” said Louise, surprising herself with her candour. It was no longer a personal matter to be hidden away. Bannister’s predation of Louise had been spoken aloud and immediately she felt stronger. “I came to say that I was going to expose him, and he threatened me. He said I had enjoyed it at the time and wanted me to do it with him right there.”
“You were going to kill him because he was using Kezia the same way he abused you?” asked Mary.
“Yes,” said Louise. “But she won’t get involved. She has gone to Dunedin to complete her exams there.”
Louise reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope. “I’ve written you a note so you can transfer her records.”
Mary took the envelope. “Thanks for that,” she said. “Are you okay now?”
“Yes,” said Louise. “I just need some time to think what to write to the School Board.”
“When you get it written, I’ll check it out if you like,” said Mary. “But you can’t fight a war on your own. Would you mind if I made a few phone calls to see if other Mums want to join us?”
“A brilliant idea,” said Louise. “I’m sure someone will come forward so the Board can’t sweep it under the carpet.”
Mary McMillan hesitated before saying, “It was your knife, wasn’t it? It’s all right. I won’t say anything. One woman on her own can do nothing, but what if we all got together?”
Louise answered, “Ever since he abused me, I’ve been unable to talk about it. That’s how men work. They fill you with guilt and shame until you are so weak nobody will believe your story. It’s time women got together to call men out.”
“That’s brilliant,” said Mary. “I have thought about something like that, but I’ve never had the money or the support to get it organised.”
The ideas that had been floating around in Louise’s mind suddenly melded into a kaleidoscopic picture.
“I have the money and the motivation,” said Louise. “All I need is the support.”
“Come into the toilets,” said Mary. “We can talk there.”
The two women engaged immediately, as if they had been lifelong long friends. Louise made ten thousand dollars available to engage a part-time clerical worker in preparation for forming a group to challenge deviant men. Mary said she would take two weeks leave to write a business plan and get some supporters. They agreed that they should think matters through so that they would have a robust organisation with definite goals and processes, able to engage expert assistance and opinion so that disadvantaged and abused women would get help of the kind available only to the privileged.
As she drove home Louise felt depressed and jubilant: depressed because she had not managed to hurt Bannister and jubilant because she could now see a way forward. Mary McMillan was right; the best way to hurt Bannister was to ruin him. The idea of a support group they had named Calling Out Men was a far better idea than stabbing Bannister with a knife. She would write her complaint as a first step although she held out no hope that her letter would be taken seriously. Whether the outcome was positive or negative, Mary would organise publicity that would do the real damage. The pen really was mightier than the sword.