for taking the trouble to come in.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ I replied.
‘Perhaps you’d like to sit there?’ She motioned to an empty chair about two feet away from George. I looked at him before straightening up; tried to get him to meet my eye, but he wouldn’t. I even went so far as to lift his chin with my finger, but he pulled against me, keeping his head low.
I sat, glanced at the three women in front of me, each wearing a sympathetic expression meant to infer We do not judge here.
‘So,’ began the head, ‘I’m sure Mr Toovey brought you up to speed with last week’s problem and, really, what we’d like to do now is get your thoughts and come up with a suitable plan of action for George. A plan that we can all work towards that will—’
I cut her off.
‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘You’ve spoken with Winston about this?’
Hilary Slater frowned. ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘You haven’t?’
‘This is the first I’ve heard.’
‘Oh,’ she blustered, uneasily. ‘Oh, that is … unfortunate. I just assumed that since …’ Her words died off and she looked to the other teachers for inspiration.
George’s class teacher cleared her throat. She was a kind, pleasant woman in her early fifties who was very approachable but who had the annoying habit of pretending not to recognize you if you should come across her outside school. ‘We did try to contact Mr Toovey today to be part of this meeting but we were informed by the man who answered the call that Mr Toovey was out of the country on business.’
I cast a glance at George, who raised his head before quickly lowering it again. His knees were grass stained and the lace in his left trainer had rejigged itself so that one end was too long, and the other too short to tie.
‘That’s regrettable,’ I said, all of us knowing it was Winston himself who had taken that call. ‘But you say you’ve spoken to him already?’
‘Yes,’ said Hilary Slater. ‘Twice. The first time would have been last Friday, and then again on Tuesday of this week when Mr Toovey came to collect George from school. Things had been disappearing for some time—’
‘What kind of things?’ I asked.
‘Stationery supplies and whatnot … nothing of any real value, but that isn’t really the point. Stealing is stealing, Mrs Toovey.’
‘And you told Winston about this?’
‘Yes,’ and she paused, biting down on her lip before continuing. ‘Mr Toovey didn’t seem to take it very seriously. He appeared to think that this was normal for little boys. In fact, he joked that his mother had to sew up his pockets when he was George’s age. I apologize that you weren’t informed, but I assumed that Mr Toovey would relay our conversation to you.’
I looked at George. ‘Honey,’ I said gently, ‘you should have told me about this.’
‘I’m afraid we can’t get George to talk about it,’ Hilary Slater said. ‘He won’t admit to his wrongdoing and we can’t seem to find a reason why he’s doing it. And, other than this, as you know, he performs very well in school. And it goes without saying that he is well liked. He is a kind and popular member of the school.’
‘George?’ I prompted, but he simply shrugged.
Turning my attention back to the head, I said, ‘So, stationery supplies. Is that it?’
‘I’m afraid not. The reason we were able to ascertain that George was the thief was because he was trying to sell these supplies to some of the other children.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘One of the Year Two children was found with a staple gun in his backpack.’
I winced.
‘And sadly, today,’ she continued, ‘we found George in the staffroom during lesson time going through the handbags. He had forty pounds in his pocket, and we’re almost certain it’s not the first time he’s done it.’
I moved from my chair. ‘Christ, George,’ I said, crouching beside him, ‘what on earth were you thinking ?’
He started to cry.
‘Mrs Toovey, we know
‘It’s no trouble,’ I replied.
‘Perhaps you’d like to sit there?’ She motioned to an empty chair about two feet away from George. I looked at him before straightening up; tried to get him to meet my eye, but he wouldn’t. I even went so far as to lift his chin with my finger, but he pulled against me, keeping his head low.
I sat, glanced at the three women in front of me, each wearing a sympathetic expression meant to infer We do not judge here.
‘So,’ began the head, ‘I’m sure Mr Toovey brought you up to speed with last week’s problem and, really, what we’d like to do now is get your thoughts and come up with a suitable plan of action for George. A plan that we can all work towards that will—’
I cut her off.
‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘You’ve spoken with Winston about this?’
Hilary Slater frowned. ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘You haven’t?’
‘This is the first I’ve heard.’
‘Oh,’ she blustered, uneasily. ‘Oh, that is … unfortunate. I just assumed that since …’ Her words died off and she looked to the other teachers for inspiration.
George’s class teacher cleared her throat. She was a kind, pleasant woman in her early fifties who was very approachable but who had the annoying habit of pretending not to recognize you if you should come across her outside school. ‘We did try to contact Mr Toovey today to be part of this meeting but we were informed by the man who answered the call that Mr Toovey was out of the country on business.’
I cast a glance at George, who raised his head before quickly lowering it again. His knees were grass stained and the lace in his left trainer had rejigged itself so that one end was too long, and the other too short to tie.
‘That’s regrettable,’ I said, all of us knowing it was Winston himself who had taken that call. ‘But you say you’ve spoken to him already?’
‘Yes,’ said Hilary Slater. ‘Twice. The first time would have been last Friday, and then again on Tuesday of this week when Mr Toovey came to collect George from school. Things had been disappearing for some time—’
‘What kind of things?’ I asked.
‘Stationery supplies and whatnot … nothing of any real value, but that isn’t really the point. Stealing is stealing, Mrs Toovey.’
‘And you told Winston about this?’
‘Yes,’ and she paused, biting down on her lip before continuing. ‘Mr Toovey didn’t seem to take it very seriously. He appeared to think that this was normal for little boys. In fact, he joked that his mother had to sew up his pockets when he was George’s age. I apologize that you weren’t informed, but I assumed that Mr Toovey would relay our conversation to you.’
I looked at George. ‘Honey,’ I said gently, ‘you should have told me about this.’
‘I’m afraid we can’t get George to talk about it,’ Hilary Slater said. ‘He won’t admit to his wrongdoing and we can’t seem to find a reason why he’s doing it. And, other than this, as you know, he performs very well in school. And it goes without saying that he is well liked. He is a kind and popular member of the school.’
‘George?’ I prompted, but he simply shrugged.
Turning my attention back to the head, I said, ‘So, stationery supplies. Is that it?’
‘I’m afraid not. The reason we were able to ascertain that George was the thief was because he was trying to sell these supplies to some of the other children.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘One of the Year Two children was found with a staple gun in his backpack.’
I winced.
‘And sadly, today,’ she continued, ‘we found George in the staffroom during lesson time going through the handbags. He had forty pounds in his pocket, and we’re almost certain it’s not the first time he’s done it.’
I moved from my chair. ‘Christ, George,’ I said, crouching beside him, ‘what on earth were you thinking ?’
He started to cry.
‘Mrs Toovey, we know
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