Tony Blackman peered out of the window.
Unless he could prove he’d been set up, he was facing trial on charges of being a child molester. His flat in Keswick had become a prison; if he ventured out, he was either egged or verbally abused by waiting yobs desperate to get their hands on a paedophile. The police had provided a presence outside the house, but the damage had already been done to his reputation. Parents of pupils at the Academy weren’t interested in detail. They wanted blood. It was a scandal, and his life was ruined. He knew that much. Even if he was found not guilty – which he was convinced would happen when a jury heard the truth – if he was allowed to prove it, he’d still be remembered as the teacher who was sacked for being a paedo.
He’d worked out in his head what must have happened. And he had Sarah backing him up.
Sarah Peaks was his English deputy, and they’d hit it off from the day of her interview. She’d never believed what they were saying about him and was doing all she could to prove his innocence. It must be tough for her in the staff room, he thought. The pack mentality was difficult to break, and there was no denying that indecent images had indeed been found on his computer. However, what the police didn’t know, and what he would soon prove, was that they had been put there on purpose to frame him. It sounded ludicrous, but all he needed to do was wait until the defence was given access to his hard drive and could get a specialist to look at the download history. He knew the day, the hour and almost the minute it had been done, because that was when the bitch had been at his flat.
He regretted the day he’d involved sixth-formers. It had seemed a good idea at the time: they were open to suggested rebellion, they embraced risk, and most important of all, they trusted him. They’d done well out of it. It was a more than satisfactory arrangement.
But now they’d outsmarted him and he faced complete destruction. Unless he could prove what they’d done. They must have been planning it for weeks, if not months, and he’d never seen it coming.
He heard Sarah in the kitchen. She was helping him put a few things together to take to her cottage. It was private there, and he couldn’t stand the siege outside his own property. Interest had died away recently as other news stories overtook his in the press, but he was recognised wherever he went, and it choked him. His career was over, but he still had funds. All he had to do was hold his nerve and he’d survive, if he didn’t go to prison.
He and Sarah had talked about leaving the area permanently, but they couldn’t do that until he was either tried and given a prison sentence or acquitted. The best-case scenario would be for the CPS to find out the truth before trial and kick out the case, but at the moment that didn’t seem likely. He’d still leave the area once it was all over, whether Sarah came with him or not. He wouldn’t teach again, but he had plenty of other options and he knew a man who could help him make a new life, maybe even under a new name. It was ironic that the state could fund a change of identity for someone found guilty, but not if they were found innocent.
Looking on the bright side, this could be the break he needed to get out of the empty shell his life had become. He was sick of small-town mediocrity anyway. Keswick was the size of a postage stamp, and even though people raved about the hills around the town, he didn’t know what all the fuss was about. They were mere fucking humps compared to other national parks around the world. New Zealand, Africa, South America: each held an allure for him, and it was about time he went travelling and lived a little.
The insects who had set him up would get their comeuppance, if not now, then sometime, and he’d laugh his arse off when they did. They had no idea what they’d done. His anger bubbled just under the surface and it had begun to change him. Sarah tried to soothe him with her support, but his sense of injustice sat heavily in his heart and threatened to explode at any moment.
He’d grown a beard, and it was itchy. He stood scratching it and gazing into boxes, wondering what to pack. Sarah’s car was parked in the back alleyway, and he checked out of the window to make sure no one was loitering about there. The snow was thick on the ground and it kept people indoors. Good.
Sarah came out of the kitchen with two beers.
‘Here, get this down you,’ she said. She was a keeper.
‘Will you come around the world with me?’ he asked.
She smiled. ‘Of course I will! When do we go?’