Authors: Ross Richdale
The man looked as terrified as Joanne herself felt only a few moments earlier. She stood up and glowered at him.
"You're awake?" he gasped.
"I am Mr Narwood," she replied. "My friend, Chrissy Ancell told me how evil you are. You remember her, of course."
"Bitch!" Narwood spat.
"Yes, but not your kind of bitch I'm afraid," Joanne retorted. She swung around and walked away with her stomach churning. Until now, she had only really half-believed the police about everything and now... oh hell, tears burst from her eyes as someone grabbed and swung her around.
Leanne Soper held her in a gentle hug. "It's okay, Joanne," she said. "We are all proud of you. You did everything right."
"Yeah," Joanne sobbed and used her sleeve to wipe away tears rolling down her cheeks, "So why do I feel so terrible, now?"
*
After a twelve-hour shift, Anne was sound asleep when the cellphone beside her bed rang. She became instantly awake, grabbed the instrument and glanced at the bedside clock. It was just after five a.m..
"Anne Te Rangi," she said.
"This is Richard Casey, night watch constable speaking. You'd better get down here, Sarge. We've had a death in the cells."
"Who?" Anne snapped.
"Murray Narwood, that principal you had brought in last night."
"How?" She was used to unexpected news but this was bad!
"Massive overdose, Sarge. Made a hell of a mess of himself! The doctor's here but says it's too late. He's just pronounced him dead."
"Wasn't he searched before being placed in the cells?"
"Yes, but we missed them. They were placed in a small zipper in his jacket collar. The doctor said he swallowed half a dozen or more. He said four would have been fatal."
"Thank you. I'll be there!" Anne flung the blankets aside and reached for her clothes. "See you later, Dear," she said to her half-awake husband
and headed out to the car.
*
The new owners of Top Plateau Station had moved quickly and already the subdivision road named Purdon Crescent was sealed and included drainage and streetlights. It wound around in a crescent and back to the original road. Off this were three shorter cul-de-sacs that led to more lifestyle blocks. The hill section of the station had also been purchased by Panda Pacific but had since been resold to two local farmers. In the final agreement, Ryan and Karla retained ownership of their house and a small section of land around it.
In the first week of the Easter holiday, they
were busy planting a new hedge along the front of their section where the old hedge had been bulldozed aside to create the concrete kerb and footpath for Purdon Crescent. Ryan used his tractor and post digger to make a row of holes and Karla lifted the well-formed hedge plants off a trailer and into each hole. She grinned as she dropped a quite heavy plant into a hole. Nothing was said but she knew she had more body strength than Ryan.
A car came up the new hot-mix road and pulled into their drive. Karla didn't recognise the vehicle but did know the two young women who climbed out. They were Chrissy and Joanne Stone.
"Hi there, Joanne," Karla said as she took her working gloves off "I haven't seen you for quite a while. Come to visit Chrissy have you?"
"She's staying a few days," Chrissy said. "We thought you might be interested in the real story."
"Real story! About what? Murray's funeral on Thursday."
"About what really happened," Joanne whispered.
Karla frowned as Ryan climbed off his tractor and ambled up. "Hi girls," he said. "You're looking great Joanne. Hear you're off to London soon."
Joanne grinned and gave him a brief hug. "You always got the hot news first didn't you?"
Ryan smiled. "But obviously not that about Murray."
"We were just about going to stop for a coffee break," Karla said. "Come inside and I'll pop the kettle on."
Inside, Karla placed Monday's The Dominion Post newspaper on the table. She pointed to a small heading on an inside page.
'School Principal dies in Police Cell'
"So he wasn't taken in for drunken driving and had a heart attack while sleeping it off in the cells, after all?"
Joanne looked pale and sucked on a lip. "The whole story is a fabrication. Why does somebody become a saint after they die?
Ryan glanced at her then onto Karla. "Would you like me to leave you all to discuss things? I've got a few more holes to drill."
"No," Joanne replied. "You're a good friend too, Ryan."
Chrissy grabbed the paper. "He wasn't arrested for being drunk nor did he have a heart attack. He committed suicide in the police cells after being arrested for abducting and attempting to drug Joanne. He was about to rape her after the staff party."
"Oh hell!" Karla gasped.
"I took part in a police action to expose him," Joanne said. "Nobody thought he would do himself in…" With a little help from Chrissy she told Karla and Ryan the full story.
As Karla listened she empathised with Joanne and Chrissy's disgust about the man's actions. She had suspected there was more to his death than that presented in the news media but not that he had committed suicide after being exposed. She stepped forward and hugged an almost crying Joanne. "You're a brave woman," she whispered. "I doubt if I could have done what you did. Thank you from Chrissy, myself and possibly dozens of other victims over the years."
Joanne smiled. "Even when it was being planned I didn't really believe he would be like that. At school he was just that elderly boss who was friendly enough and left you alone. I never suspected."
"Those are the ones who get away with it," Ryan said.
Chrissy joined the conversation. "The police contacted me earlier too and I agreed to be part of the trap and also filed a complaint about him so he could be charged with rape, too. I think he must have realised that after he was arrested." She glanced around the room. "Neither Joanne or myself are going to his funeral. It would be hypocritical to do so."
"I understand," Karla said. "I think we'll still go though for Sherrie's sake. She was a victim, too you kno
w, in more ways than one. " She told the pair briefly what she knew about Murray's wife.
"And how many other women's lives did he affect through the years?" Joanne asked.
"Dozens," Chrissy retorted. "The bastard ruined dozens of our lives. He knew that but was too cowardly at the end to face up to the consequences and took the easy way out."
"So let's have our coffee and forget about him." Ryan said. "We'll take you for a walk around the new sub-division. You should see what they're doing at the old homestead, Joanne. Talk about a millionaire's playground…"
*
Five months after Murray Narwood's death, Karla felt unusually nervous as she drove into the Tui Park School car park at eleven on the Wednesday morning. She climbed out of her car and spent a moment gazing around. The school appeared no different from when she had left two years and nine months earlier. The main block had been repainted a modern grey colour and the bushes had grown a little. She hitched her skirt over her bulging tummy and grinned to herself. So she was eight months pregnant! In theory, physical circumstances should not make any difference but in real life she knew it did
, as did the old cliché that interviewers made up their mind about somebody as soon as they walked into the room and spent the rest of the time trying to find answers that supported their original assumption.
"Damn you, Ryan," she muttered and didn't really know why she said that. Was it because he had got her into this advanced state of pregnancy or that he almost bullied her into applying or when he had gleefully chuckled when she had received an email telling her she had been shortlisted and inviting her in for an interview for the principal's position at her old school.
As she walked into the administration area a senior pupil came up to her. "Hello, Ms Spicer," the girl said. She glanced at Karla's swollen stomach and flushed. "It's Mrs Somebody now isn't it?"
Karla stared at the pupil who had matured and grown but her face had hardly changed. It was
Stephanie McKay, the little girl who had been lost in the bush.
"Hello Stephanie, Ms Spicer will be fine for I still use that name. How are you?"
"Fine, Ms Spicer. I'm in Mr Grant's class."
Karla didn't know a teacher by that name but smiled. "That's nice and how's your Mum?"
Stephanie shrugged. "Just the same. You'll see her soon. She's on the Board of Trustees now and is on the selection committee to select our new principal. I'm here as pupil host and have the job of taking the teachers through to the staffroom and offering them a cup of coffee while they wait. I hardly need to show you where to go though, do I?"
"No but it will be nice to have you escort me there. We can chat while I wait."
Stephanie stepped in beside her and began to chatter mainly about herself as children do but also she gave snippets of information about the school and the candidates.
"Gillian, I mean Mrs Elston has been the principal since Mr Narwood died. She was meant to be our teacher but Mr Grant replaced her." She pouted. "We all want Mr Grant to stay but know that if someone else beats Mrs Elston she will come back to our room. I'm not allowed to tell any of the other kids or even know myself but when I found out you were coming for an interview
. I hoped you'd get the job."
"That's kind of you, Stephanie but I don't think I'll be able to complete against Mrs Elston or the other teachers. I think I was lucky to even get this far."
"No you weren't," Stephanie said. She flushed again and stared at Karla. "As I said, I'm not meant to know anything about it." She grinned. "I swapped my duty so I could be student host when you came. Mum will be mad when she finds out."
"I won't tell," Karla said.
"They want somebody who can be tough on the bossy girls and the boys who fight," Stephanie said. "God, I hope the guy who they're interviewing now doesn't get the job. He's almost as old as Mr Narwood and has a beard." She chuckled. "Mum hates beards. Told Dad once that if he even thought about growing one she'd take us kids and leave. She wouldn't though. Dad makes too much money."
The girl rattled on as she made Karla a cup of coffee and offered her one of the sandwiches that were on the table under a serviette. After a few more minutes she excused herself as she had to be in the foyer when the next candidate came in.
"Good luck Ms Spicer," she said before she left. "I'll always remember how you helped me. I was a bit of a cry baby in those days."
"You were just a frightened little girl," Karla said. "It is normal for someone who is frightened to cry. Thanks for the good wishes."
*
Ten minutes later a woman she didn't know appeared, apologised for the delay and said the selection committee was ready to interview her.
Karla walked into the hall that was being used for the interviews and noted the upmarket furniture, the new curtain backdrop and the massive floral arrangement on a glass table. Oh hell, she had forgotten how upmarket the school was.
"Oh my God, Karla you're pregnant!" Pauline McKay's voice cut though the silence. The woman gulped, glanced at the other committee members and swallowed.
So Pauline hadn't changed one gram!
"I am," Karla said.
"How's Ryan?" Pauline blurted out as if to cover her outburst.
"Doing his extramural degree. He should graduate this year."
"So that's why you want to come back to town?" Pauline continued talking before Karla could answer "Sorry. Let me introduce our selection committee…"
Karla recognised one woman but the remaining seven were strangers with all except three being women about her own age or younger. She suppressed a grin when she noticed that one was also pregnant.
The questions were formal and followed a routine that she expected. After the general questions about her qualifications and what she was doing in her present position, each member asked what must have been a personal choice question. Pauline was the third to last with her one.
"You know the history of our school and many staff members. If you were successful in this application how would you manage Val Cook and Gillian Elston, both of whom I am permitted to say, have applied for this principal's position."
So Val applied, too but Stephanie had not been mentioned her. It seemed, therefore that she had not even been shortlisted.
"Professionally," Karla replied. "All staff have their own personalities and this needs to be considered…" She expanded on her answer and noticed that three w
omen in particular were writing copious notes about her reply.
The interview continued with little being portrayed by the committee members' body languages. They were all, including Pauline, entirely professional in their approach. No more mention was made of her pregnancy or any of the events that had happened at Top Plateau or Chrissy's circumstances though they all, no doubt knew that she was now at
her school. Murray Norwood's name was never mentioned. It was as if the committee had agreed cut him from the school's records.