Chapter Five

 

 

 

I spent the next day in a state of anxiety. I searched for Sebastian to ask him to be my witness for what had happened, but it turned out he hadn’t come in that day because he had an interview at the university. I saw Ciara and she smiled at me, but we didn’t talk. And in any case, I was determined that I was going to keep her out of the whole affair. The last thing she needed was her dad getting to hear about the incident.

Finally, at three p.m. my dad turned up and we went to Mr. Clarendon’s office. When we arrived, Brutus was already there with DB. I was surprised to see that his father was not there. Mr. Clarendon stood, shook my dad’s hand and said, “Thank you for coming, Mr. Norgard. Please, take a seat. You too, Jake.” We sat and so did he, while Brutus watched us. I couldn’t see any black and blue bruising, though his nose was a bit swollen.

Mr. Clarendon said, immediately, “Mr. Norgard, let me be very clear about this. As it stands, this meeting is quite simply to decide whether Jake stays at the Anglo-American school or whether he is expelled forthwith.”

My dad’s face darkened. “Mr. Clarendon, hadn’t we better have a look at the allegation and at the evidence before we take any kind of—?”

“That is precisely what we are here to do,” cut in Mr. Clarendon, “but I want to leave you in no doubt, Mr. Norgard, about the seriousness of the allegation against your son, or indeed, how seriously we take this kind of incident. Now, Mr. Muller, would you please tell us, according to you, what happened on Tuesday last?”

Brutus shifted in his seat and smirked at me. “Yes, sir, Mr. Clarendon. I was coming out of the changing rooms to go to the baseball grounds and I saw Jake here coming along the corridor towards me. I knew he was a new boy and, wishing to make him feel welcome, I greeted him. At which point he said to me, ‘You’re the captain of the football team, right?’ To which I said I was, and he said, ‘Well, get used to the fact that there’s a new kid on the block.’ At this point, he punched me in the solar plexus and winded me. Then I realized he was carrying a baseball bat and he laid into me with the bat around my chest, arms and legs. When I was on the floor and unable to move, he told me he would be taking over as captain and that I should stay out of his way.”

I turned at Dad to see if he was swallowing this crock. He was frowning hard, but apart from that it was difficult to tell what he was thinking. He just said, “And you have a report from the hospital?”

Mr. Clarendon slid a sheet of paper across the desk for him to see, muttering, “I did email you a scan of the original…”

Dad glanced at it, but I could see it was the same document. He gave it back and said to Brutus, “Mr. Muller, I would like to see your bruises with my own eyes.”

“Of course, Mr. Norgard.” He stood up, pulled off his blazer and undid his shirt. His chest was a mass of bruises, and he had bruising on his arms, too. I knew I had not caused those bruises. It was impossible.

Dad and Mr. Clarendon both turned to peer at me.

Dad said, “What have you got to say for yourself, son?”

I looked Dad in the eye then Mr. Clarendon. When I heard my voice, it was weird. It was like I was listening to somebody else talking. “Mr. Clarendon. I will tell you exactly what happened. But before I do, I want to say that I did not cause those bruises. I have no idea where they came from, but I do know that I didn’t cause them.”

Dad was frowning. He said, “Go ahead, son.”

“In the corridor outside the dressing rooms, I came across Freddy Muller, Darren Engles and a couple of other boys. Freddy had a girl pinned against the wall and he was trying to force her to kiss him. She was clearly distressed and telling him to leave her alone. When I saw what was happening, I told Freddy to let her go, at which point, he became angry and punched me to the ground. Then he got a baseball bat and prepared to beat me with it. I took another bat that was thrown to me by another boy. I am a very proficient fencer…” I glanced at Dad and tried hard to ignore his expression of astonishment. “I used the bat as I would use a saber and was able to defend myself, for which reason I am responsible for the slight swelling on Freddy’s nose and some slight bruising you will find on his forearms and shins. But I am not responsible for those bruises.” I pointed at his torso. “In fact, if you check the Luncheon Hall records, sir, you will find that he and DB—that is Darren Engles—had luncheon there shortly after the incident, which he would not have been able to do if he had been at the hospital.”

Dad and Mr. Clarendon were silent, staring at the floor.

I said, “I would also like to add an observation, sir, if I may. Comparing our relative sizes and taking into account the fact that Freddy is the captain of the football team, it is very unlikely that I would have been able to inflict that kind of bruising on him.”

Mr. Clarendon studied Brutus for a long while. Brutus looked like he was sitting on an angry ferret but didn’t want to let on.

The headmaster turned back to me and said, “Who is this girl?”

I shook my head. “I am sorry, sir. I am not at liberty to say. Her part in this was that of an innocent victim, but if her father heard of it he would be very angry with her. I can’t do that.”

“You realize that without her testimony, you cannot substantiate your story.”

“I do realize that, sir, and even so, I am afraid I can’t bring her into it. But I would respectfully submit to you that Mr. Muller’s story is sufficiently hard to believe to cast doubt on the whole incident he alleges. Furthermore, sir, I have joined the fencing and the archery clubs, I have pulled out of the baseball team and I haven’t even joined the football team, which does not make much sense if I wanted to take over as captain. And the fencing club will vouch for my skill with a sword, sir.”

He flopped back in his chair and stared at me. Brutus was going slowly crimson.

Mr. Clarendon said, “Apparently it isn’t just a sword you have skill with. You are quite right. The whole incident is insufficiently clear for me to take any action. But you are both”—and he turned and raised a withering eyebrow at Brutus—“both on notice that if there is one more incident of this sort, clear or unclear, you will both be out on your ears. Am I understood?” We both muttered that he was and he turned to Brutus, “I don’t know how you received those bruises, Mr. Muller, but I am satisfied that it was not from Mr. Norgard. So, you may be sure that I shall be watching you with interest from now on. You are dismissed.” As Brutus got to his feet and left, Mr. Clarendon turned to me, “Not you, Mr. Norgard, though I shall also be watching you with interest. Who knows? You may yet be an asset to the school. I just hope I am not making a mistake. However, you get to stay, young man, but I want something in exchange.”

I was surprised and so was my dad. “Yes, sir?”

He nodded. “You are eloquent and you think on your feet. I want you on the debating team. You have,” he said, “the gift of the gab. I am quite serious. I want you on the debating team, winning trophies for us.”

 

* * * *

 

We went down to the car in silence. Once we had climbed in and slammed the doors, my dad sat gazing at the steering wheel for a moment. Finally, he said, “You are a very proficient fencer? Since when?”

“I—”

“You have never picked up a sword in your life!”

“I… It just seemed to come to me naturally.”

“You lied, Jake…”

I shook my head, “No, Dad, no I didn’t!”

“You have never learned to fence, Jake!”

“I didn’t say I had. I said I was proficient. And, Dad, ask at the fencing club! They’ll tell you. I am really good.” Then I added, “I wouldn’t lie, Dad.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on, Jake, but I know that there is something that you are not telling me about. Now”—he stared hard at the wheel—“I’m sorry, Jake. I know you meant well, but you got into a fight in the corridor on your second day in school! That is irresponsible! You could have handled that in many different ways, and you chose to fight that boy. I have no choice. I’m sorry. You are grounded for the weekend.”

I looked at him in horror. “No! Dad! No, no, no, you can’t! Please, Dad. You don’t understand. Not this weekend!”

He frowned at me. “Why? What’s so special about this weekend?”

“I…” I flopped back in the seat and closed my eyes. “Dad, just…please, not this weekend.”

I glanced over at him and he was smiling. “Who is she?”

I turned away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The girl Muller was trying to kiss and the girl you are supposed to be meeting this weekend. Who is she?”

I sighed. “Ciara Fionn.”

He cocked his head. “Michael Fionn’s daughter?”

I shrugged. “I guess. She said he’s some kind of political figure.”

“He’s a leading consultant on environmental issues. He works for the European Commission. He’s a gray suit, but he is a very powerful man.”

He started the car and began to pull away.

I asked, “So can I see her?”

“Not this weekend, son.” He eased into the traffic and accelerated. “I’m sorry. You have to learn that your actions have consequences, Jake. Take a rain check till next weekend.”

“But, Dad—”

“It’s final, Jake. No means no.”

 

* * * *

 

That night over dinner the atmosphere around the table was tense. We ate in silence. I couldn’t stop thinking that if I didn’t see Ciara that weekend, it might be weeks before I got another chance. But after a while, I noticed that Rosie’s face was rigid and she wouldn’t raise her face from her plate. Dad kept glancing at her and appeared decidedly worried. Finally, she laid down her knife and fork and looked straight at him. Her face was not a reassuring sight.

“George, there is something I do not understand.”

He smiled nervously, “Yes, honey?”

“As I understand it, your son took on the captain of the American football team, a young man of six foot six, built like the proverbial brick—”

“Yes, honey.”

She paused, eying him sternly. “A very tall, powerfully built young man. Your son took him on, in spite of considerable risk to himself, in order to defend a young lady who was being molested by this lout. A lout who is also, by all accounts, the school bully.”

Dad smoothed his hair and loosened his collar.

Rosie turned to me and said, “Is that right, Jake?”

I looked at Dad and said, “Pretty much.”

“So, your son,” she went on, “behaved like a perfect gentleman with admirable courage, and is now, no doubt, Ciara Fionn’s knight in shining armor. And for this he is being punished?”

Dad sighed. “Rosie, it isn’t that simple. You just can’t go into a school like the Anglo-American and, on your second day, start beating up another kid—even if he is the captain of the football team…”

“On the contrary, George, ‘simple’ is precisely the adjective I would use.”

“Rosie, please, honey. Jake has to learn discipline, and he has to learn obedience. I’m sorry—”

She cut right across him. “I see. Well, thankfully, George, rather than this foolish, pseudo-military nonsensical claptrap you seem suddenly to be spouting, your son seems to have assimilated the values I have always admired so much in you when you are not trying to be General Westpoint Wally. And he has behaved exactly as I would hope you would have behaved in a similar situation—not according to the stupid rules of some fossilized institution but according to his own judgment and a heroic heart!”

“Um…Rosie, honey—”

“However”—she snapped out the word and it was like she’d slapped him across the face—“your father has made up his mind, and he is your father, so we have no choice but to abide by his decision, however reactionary and Stone Age it may seem to us. It is a shame, because I was going to take you both to see Stonehenge tomorrow. But now you won’t be able to come. Your father and I shall go, Jake, and you will be left home alone. I hope you’ll be able to use the time productively.”

I swear she winked at me then. Dad didn’t see because, as well as turning scarlet, he was staring so hard at his plate that he couldn’t have seen anything but his food.

He said, “We’re going to Stonehenge?”

“Yes then Avebury. It’s fascinating, and I was really looking forward to showing Jake. They are among some of the most ancient, mystical places on the planet.”

He glanced at me then back at Rosie. “Well, I guess, if it was educational—”

“Nope! You have decided and that’s final. We can take Jake some other time.”

She stood up, collected the plates and went out to the kitchen. We stared at the table a second then we peered at each other.

He said, “What just happened?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea, Dad, but I can see why you’re crazy about her.”

He nodded then smiled. “Right.”

I smiled back. “Yeah, enjoy Stonehenge.”

“Right…”