and rehearsed what I was going to say to her when she did come home. It crossed my mind that possibly I should leave confronting her until John came home so that I had his moral support, but I dismissed the idea. I couldn’t carry on as normal, chatting to Dawn as though nothing had happened, knowing what I did. Although of course that was exactly what Dawn had done – carried on as normal and pretending she had been in school all week.
Adrian was unsettled too. I was so preoccupied that I hadn’t played with him as much as I usually did and neither had I taken him out for our usual ‘breath of fresh air’. By 3.30 p.m. I was pacing the room with Adrian in my arms and waiting for Dawn to return. At 3.45, dead on time, the front door bell rang, and my stomach churned. I braced myself as I went to the front door. I still hadn’t formulated what I was going to say, but I knew I would be saying it sooner rather than later.
I opened the door. ‘Hello, Dawn, come in. It’s freezing out there.’ I gave a brief tight smile.
‘I know,’ she said, shivering. ‘I’m so cold.’ As usual she gave Adrian a kiss on the cheek.
I closed the door and looked at her. She was perfectly relaxed and at ease, as if she had just returned from a normal day at school. She dropped her school bag in the hall and then unzipped her jacket and looped it over the hall stand. Normally I asked her how her day had been, but today I didn’t. I couldn’t set her up for another lie, for doubtless she would have said, as she had been saying, ‘Good, Cathy,’ and then added some detail, which now I knew would be a lie.
‘Dawn,’ I said sombrely. ‘When you’ve got yourself a drink and a biscuit, I need to talk to you.’ I felt my anxiety level rise.
She looked at me, apparently completely innocent and without any hint of guilt. ‘Is everything OK, Cathy?’ she asked concerned. ‘You look serious.’
‘Yes, it is serious, Dawn. I’ve had some rather bad news. Get yourself a drink and then come into the lounge, please.’
‘I don’t want a drink. I’ll come in now.’ She headed towards the lounge, and as I followed with Adrian in my arms, I clung to the last unrealistic hope that there was a plausible explanation.
She sat in the armchair and I sat on the sofa with Adrian in my lap.
‘You look unhappy,’ Dawn said. ‘I hope it’s nothing I’ve done?’
I met her gaze. ‘Dawn, Mrs Matthews phoned me today. I think you can guess what she told me.’
For a moment her face registered astonishment and she looked as though she was about to say ‘No’, but then thought about it and, looking down, said a quiet ‘Yes.’
‘You haven’t been going to school all week, have you?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Cathy. You have been so good to me. I’ve let you down badly, haven’t I?’
‘Yes, you have. And not only because you haven’t been going to school. It’s the lying and deceit that I find most hurtful. And that letter you wrote on Friday pretending it was from me, saying you were going to the dentist – that was very dishonest. Why haven’t you been going to school?’
She raised her head and looked at me, her face sad and her eyes filling. ‘I’m sorry, Cathy. Really I am, but school is a bad place for me. I hate it. I can’t make any friends. I feel so alone.’
I immediately felt a stab of sympathy. ‘Is that why you haven’t been going – because of not having any friends?’ I continued to look at her.
She nodded, and then sniffed.
‘There’s no need to cry. We just have to get this sorted and find a way forward.’
She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. ‘I haven’t been at that school long, and everyone already has their own friends. No one wants to let me into their group. I’ve tried to be friends but no one wants to know. I feel so alone when everyone is laughing and talking at breaktime. I think they’re laughing at me – Johnny-no-mates. I nearly told you, Cathy, but
Adrian was unsettled too. I was so preoccupied that I hadn’t played with him as much as I usually did and neither had I taken him out for our usual ‘breath of fresh air’. By 3.30 p.m. I was pacing the room with Adrian in my arms and waiting for Dawn to return. At 3.45, dead on time, the front door bell rang, and my stomach churned. I braced myself as I went to the front door. I still hadn’t formulated what I was going to say, but I knew I would be saying it sooner rather than later.
I opened the door. ‘Hello, Dawn, come in. It’s freezing out there.’ I gave a brief tight smile.
‘I know,’ she said, shivering. ‘I’m so cold.’ As usual she gave Adrian a kiss on the cheek.
I closed the door and looked at her. She was perfectly relaxed and at ease, as if she had just returned from a normal day at school. She dropped her school bag in the hall and then unzipped her jacket and looped it over the hall stand. Normally I asked her how her day had been, but today I didn’t. I couldn’t set her up for another lie, for doubtless she would have said, as she had been saying, ‘Good, Cathy,’ and then added some detail, which now I knew would be a lie.
‘Dawn,’ I said sombrely. ‘When you’ve got yourself a drink and a biscuit, I need to talk to you.’ I felt my anxiety level rise.
She looked at me, apparently completely innocent and without any hint of guilt. ‘Is everything OK, Cathy?’ she asked concerned. ‘You look serious.’
‘Yes, it is serious, Dawn. I’ve had some rather bad news. Get yourself a drink and then come into the lounge, please.’
‘I don’t want a drink. I’ll come in now.’ She headed towards the lounge, and as I followed with Adrian in my arms, I clung to the last unrealistic hope that there was a plausible explanation.
She sat in the armchair and I sat on the sofa with Adrian in my lap.
‘You look unhappy,’ Dawn said. ‘I hope it’s nothing I’ve done?’
I met her gaze. ‘Dawn, Mrs Matthews phoned me today. I think you can guess what she told me.’
For a moment her face registered astonishment and she looked as though she was about to say ‘No’, but then thought about it and, looking down, said a quiet ‘Yes.’
‘You haven’t been going to school all week, have you?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Cathy. You have been so good to me. I’ve let you down badly, haven’t I?’
‘Yes, you have. And not only because you haven’t been going to school. It’s the lying and deceit that I find most hurtful. And that letter you wrote on Friday pretending it was from me, saying you were going to the dentist – that was very dishonest. Why haven’t you been going to school?’
She raised her head and looked at me, her face sad and her eyes filling. ‘I’m sorry, Cathy. Really I am, but school is a bad place for me. I hate it. I can’t make any friends. I feel so alone.’
I immediately felt a stab of sympathy. ‘Is that why you haven’t been going – because of not having any friends?’ I continued to look at her.
She nodded, and then sniffed.
‘There’s no need to cry. We just have to get this sorted and find a way forward.’
She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. ‘I haven’t been at that school long, and everyone already has their own friends. No one wants to let me into their group. I’ve tried to be friends but no one wants to know. I feel so alone when everyone is laughing and talking at breaktime. I think they’re laughing at me – Johnny-no-mates. I nearly told you, Cathy, but
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