Chapter 18

 

The Key

 

Olivia sorts through the ideas as they pop into her head. None so far have been very practical.

‘May I borrow the key to the basement storeroom? I’ll bring it straight back.’ The idea is simple but it will never work.

Breaking into the school after dark and hanging upside down by a rope through the skylight, like in the Mission Impossible movies is not going to work either. For one thing, her injured arm and leg aren’t up to the task. And there is no way Mum and Dad are going to let her out after dark. Anyway, the office being on the ground floor of a three-storey building didn’t have a sky light to hang from.

Setting off the fire alarm and hiding until everyone is outside before sneaking into the office to borrow the key could work. Although, the trouble she’d be in if she got caught would be unimaginable—she would probably get expelled.

Olivia is running out of options as she approaches the office. Then she sees it.

The sick bay.

The sick bay door is right across the corridor from the office. From in there, Olivia can watch and wait. The office ladies have to eat, or go to the toilet or the photocopy room.

All she needs is one minute with both of them gone.

The key cupboard is a metal box the size of a briefcase attached to the back wall. There is a clipboard hanging from a screw next to it with a sign out list. As Olivia stands at the window in the foyer, she can see that the key cupboard isn’t locked. Its door is slightly ajar.

This could actually work, Olivia thinks.

“What can I do for you, dear?” Mrs Paulson asks, coming up to the window. She is thin as a stick with dark-brown hair pulled tightly back from her face.

“I’m not feeling very well.” Olivia looks at the bench. She doesn’t like lying. But come to think about it, she doesn’t feel all that well. So technically it isn’t really a lie. “I think Mum and Dad made me come back to school too early.”

Mrs Paulson looks at Olivia’s bandaged arm and leg. The dressing over the stiches in her temple and ear is hidden by her hair.

The bandages must have been impressive enough.

“How about I give your parents a call and they can come and pick you up?” she asks.

Great, thinks Olivia, groaning inwardly. Calling Mum and Dad is the last thing she wants. “I’ll probably be all right in a little while. If I could just have a lay down for bit, I’m sure I’ll feel better.”

Mrs Paulson looks dubious. “I don’t think we should take any chances. Maybe I should give them a ring.”

Olivia tries to think fast. It isn’t working.

Mrs Paulson walks over to the phone and picks up the receiver. She starts flipping through the contact numbers.

“But they won’t be home yet,” Olivia blurts out. “They had to go out today…”

Mrs Paulson looks up from the cards.

“…and they won’t be back ‘til after lunch.”

“I should still try,” she says.

“Honest, Mrs Paulson. I’ll be fine in a little while. I just think I over did it at recess.” Olivia can see the hesitation on Mrs Paulson’s face. “And I’ve already missed enough school work. I don’t want to get too far behind the others.”

“OK.” Mrs Paulson relents. “But, if you are not feeling better by lunch, I will be calling them.”

Mrs Paulson leads Olivia into the sick bay. As the door swings shut, Olivia sees Ms Whittemore sitting at a desk, working on a computer.

It’s 12:05pm according to the clock on the wall. The lunch bell goes at 1:00pm so she has fifty five minutes to get the key. It will take Mum at least twenty minutes to come and collect her if the office ladies call.

Olivia watches the office door from the sick bay bed. Now all she has to do is wait. The clock on the wall ticks loudly, counting down.

At 12:17pm Mrs Paulson hurries out, carrying a sheet from the message book.

“Come on,” Olivia whispers. But Ms Whittemore doesn’t budge.

The office telephones are running hot and Mrs Paulson ducks out three more times in the next ten minutes with messages. No wonder she is so skinny. She is up and down like a yoyo. Still, Ms Whittemore refuses to budge.

As the clock ticks around to 12:35pm Olivia expects Mrs Paulson to come in to check on her. Every time she steps out of the door, Olivia holds her breath and doesn’t let it out until Mrs Paulson hurries past.

If she stays very quiet, maybe Mrs Paulson will forget all about her altogether.

At 12:45pm, Ms Whittemore stretches in her seat and stands up, massaging the small of her back.

“Janette, I’m just going to duck up to the staff room for lunch,” she says. “Will you be right here for fifteen minutes?”

“I’ll be fine,” Mrs Paulson replies. She tries to sound cheerful but her voice is flustered.

“You can take your break as soon as I get back.” Ms Whittemore waddles up the corridor toward the staff room.

Ten minutes. That’s all the time Olivia has. Once the lunch bell rings she will have no chance. The place will be full of teachers and kids coming and going to pick up their medication or get icepacks or Band Aids for skinned knees.

Olivia can see Mrs Paulson through the glass panel in the office door. She is standing, shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Please, need to go to the toilet,” Olivia whispers.

Suddenly, Mrs Paulson pulls the door open and hurries up the corridor toward the staff bathroom.

Yes! Olivia gives a silent cheer. She gets off the bed and creeps to the sick bay door, peeking out into the corridor. As Mrs Paulson reaches for the toilet door, Olivia prepares to dash across into the office.

Brrriiinng, brrriiinng…

The telephone rings.

Mrs Paulson spins back and Olivia only just manages to duck back without being seen.

Olivia wants to say words her mum would definitely not approve of.

“Hurry up,” she whispers, her feet bouncing up and down nervously. “How long can you talk for?” She can never think of stuff to say on the phone and can’t understand how people can chatter away for hours on end.

Finally, Olivia hears the receiver being placed back on the carriage. She looks up at the clock. Ms Whittemore is due back any second and the lunch bell is about to ring. She clenches her fist and her leg jitters intensify.

Matthew Huppert is the bell monitor and although he had been known to ring the bell at end of lunch five minutes late, he has never, ever missed the bell for the start of lunch. He is very conscientious when it came to lunch and recess.

One minute.

Mrs Paulson can’t hold it any longer. She flies out of the office and disappears up the corridor.

Olivia can’t wait any longer either. It’s now or never. She darts across the corridor while Mrs Paulson walks to the toilets. Olivia hopes she doesn’t glance back over her shoulder.

The door to the office makes a little squeal as Olivia slips inside. She nearly knocks a tall stack of papers off the desk in her rush to get to the key cupboard.

Calm down, Olivia! she chides herself. She takes a deep breath and edges around another pile of files.

Olivia pulls the key cupboard door open. The hinges squeak, almost stopping her heart. She glances over her shoulder then scans the rows of keys.

Yes! she thinks. All the key hooks have neat, clear labels. ‘A Block Front Door’, ‘A Block Rear Door’, ‘Sports Storeroom’, ‘Music room’, ‘AV Room’, ‘Science Room’ and ‘Library’. And all of the classrooms have their own key.

Olivia’s heart sinks. There, right in the middle of the third row, is one empty peg. The ‘Basement Storeroom’ label stands out stark and white against the grey metal of the box.

“No, no, no!” Olivia fumes. She grabs the clip board and looks at the signatures.

Supposedly, all the keys are signed in. “What’s the point of having a stupid sign in book if people don’t bother signing the keys in and out properly. It just isn’t right,” she tells the empty office.

The lunch bell rings and Olivia can already see kids spilling out of their classrooms.

Olivia has no idea what to do next. She slips out of the office and is just closing the door as Mrs Paulson comes out of the bathroom. Olivia sees her from the corner of her eye and freezes. She takes a deep breath and knocks loudly on the office door.

As Mrs Paulson’s footsteps come closer, Olivia turns towards her. “I’m feeling a little bit better now. I don’t think you need to call my mum.”

Mrs Paulson frowns. “Just in time for lunch, hmm.”

Olivia resents the accusation in her tone. “I won’t be going out playing,” she says. “I think I’ll just find a nice quiet spot to sit until it’s time for class again.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Mrs Paulson steps into the office and closes the door.