Afterwards

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Book: Afterwards by Rosamund Lupton Read Free Book Online
Authors: Rosamund Lupton
and was outraged on his behalf, you just seemed irritated. You said you paid the school fees, worked
bloody hard
to do that, and before you set off for a gruelling trip the next day you didn’t want to hear about
some inadequate teacher who’d got himself the sack
.
    Until yesterday afternoon I’d have argued with you for suspecting him. Like Jenny, I’d have said it was
completely ridiculous!
But all my old certainties are burnt to the ground. Nothing is like yesterday any more. So I don’t trust anyone. Not even Mr Hyman. No one at all.
    DI Baker stops his phone call and glances at the
Richmond Post
.
    ‘One peculiar thing,’ he says to Sarah, ‘is how quickly the press were on the scene of the fire. Before the fire engines even. We’ll need to know who told them, or how they found out. In case that’s relevant.’
    You are infuriated by his anodyne off-the-point remark.
    ‘It’s not only the article,’ you say, but DI Baker’s radio interrupts. He answers it but you continue.
    ‘I
saw him
acting violently a few weeks after he was fired. It was at the school prize-giving. He gatecrashed it and made threats.
Violent
threats.’

8
    ‘Do you think I’ll win a prize, Mum?’ Adam said. ‘For anything?’
    It was the morning of the prize-giving. Adam, still seven then, was eating Coco Pops and watching
Tom and Jerry
.
    Mr Hyman had been fired three and a half weeks before and already he hated going to school, so I was trying to compensate. You were away filming and I’d allowed myself to spoil him a little. Your man-to-man talk could come later. My excitement about your homecoming was cloaked by anxiety for him.
    ‘You should win a prize,’ I said to him, fairly certain that he wouldn’t. ‘But if you don’t, you mustn’t be disappointed. Remember what Mrs Healey said at assembly? Everyone will get a prize in the end, even if it’s not your turn this year.’
    ‘That’s such bollocks,’ Jenny said, still in her dressing-gown although we were meant to leave in ten minutes. ‘I mean, think about the maths,’ she continued. ‘Number of children, number of prizes, number of prize-givings. It doesn’t compute, does it?’
    ‘And the same people always win them,’ Adam said.
    ‘I’m sure that’s not—’
    Adam interrupted me, hotly frustrated. ‘It
is true
.’
    ‘He’s right,’ Jenny said. ‘I know they
say
every child is equally valued, blah blah blah, but it’s rubbish.’
    ‘Jen, you’re not helping.’
    ‘She is, actually,’ Adam said.
    ‘The school has to get a few of its pupils into a top secondary school like Westminster for boys or St Paul’s Girls,’ Jenny continued, pouring out cereal. ‘Otherwise new parents aren’t going to truck up with their four-year-olds next year. So it’s the brightest kids that get the prizes, so it’ll help them get into the top secondary schools.’
    ‘Antony’s already won it for best in the class,’ Adam said, miserably. ‘
And
for Maths
and
for leadership.’
    ‘He’s eight. Who’s he meant to be leading, exactly?’ Jenny asked with derision, making Adam smile. Thank you, Jen.
    ‘It was Rowena White when I was at school,’ Jenny continued. ‘She cleaned up.’ She stood up, her movements languid. ‘Is it still at St Swithun’s church?’ she asked.
    ‘Yup.’
    ‘Nightmare. I always got stuck behind a pillar. Why can’t they use that perfectly good modern church right next to the school?’
    Adam saw the clock and panicked. ‘We’re going to be late!’ He raced to get his bookbag, his fear of being late temporarily outweighing his fear of school.
    ‘I’ll be super-quick,’ Jenny said. ‘I’ll eat my Shreddies in the car, if Mum can drive a little more smoothly than last time.’ She paused as she left the room. ‘Oh, and you know all those silver cups and shields? They make theschool seem older and more established than it really is. So the current parents are kept happy too.’
    ‘I think you’re being a little

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