With the Headmaster's Approval (5 page)

Adam switched it on and it made a
whirring clunking noise and he switched it off again.

“I’ve notified the technician,” Jenna said
, annoyed that he seemed to be checking up on her.

Adam sat
down and took out what looked like a pen from his pocket. He pulled off the top to reveal a set of tiny screwdrivers.

“I
suppose that’s your twenty-first century equivalent of a Boy Scout knife,” said Jenna with a hint of sarcasm.

“It
may not get stones out of horses’ hooves, but it does open the car remote key so I can put in a new battery at midnight when I otherwise would have been stranded.”

“So you carry spare batteries as well?
Be Prepared. Once a Boy Scout, always a Boy Scout?”

“
Pretty much,” he said, using one of the screwdrivers to remove the screws from the computer casing and sliding it off. He then took out the screws holding the fan in place and eased it out of the housing. “Have you got a cloth or a brush, or maybe a cotton swab?” he asked Jenna. She instructed one of the girls to get a tissue out of the box she kept on her desk and Adam used it to wipe the dust off the fan. “It needs a bit of rubbing alcohol to do the job properly. Do you have any in the science lab?”

“Yes, but it’s locked away.”

“I don’t suppose you have any cans of compressed air?”

“No. We leave the maintenance to the
computer technician,” she said, pointedly.

Adam started screwing the fan back in
place. “It might be an idea to teach the girls basic maintenance,” he said, and turning to look up at her he added with an arched smile, “Isn’t it better for them to be self-reliant than have to rely on a technician?”

“Do you really want the
girls messing about inside an expensive computer?”

“No. I’m sure we can find an old one they can practise on.”

“I’ll add it to the list of changes you’d like to introduce,” she replied tight-lipped as Adam switched on the computer. When it powered up silently he put the casing back on.

“There you are, ladies,” he said to the girls. “You don’t have to share anymore.”

“Thank you, Mr Wild,” they chorused.

He looked at Jenna
with a quizzical raised eyebrow.

“Thank you,” she said
sweetly. He really was insufferabl
e
.

CHAPTER FIVE

Fred Smith had been true to his word and before the week was out a glass door had been fitted in Adam’s office, and a new sign put on the wall saying
Head Teacher
. Adam moved the desk so he had a clear view of the reception area and beyond that, the entrance to the school.

Lisa was
in her office admiring a framed photograph of her mother-in-law’s dog. “You’ve done a wonderful job of it,” she said to the smiling woman standing next to her. “You’ve even managed to capture Meg’s placid collie personality.”

“Thanks. I spent a number of hours with her, getting to
know her before I started,” replied the woman, who was in her thirties with an urchin face framed by short auburn hair, and wearing the merest hint of lipstick. She was clad in jeans and a white T-shirt with a man’s denim shirt worn loosely over it. Her leather ankle boots had a Cuban heel that still only brought her height to a mere five foot four inches.

“Neil is going to be so excited to give it to his mother for her birthday,” said Lisa.

The door opened and Lisa looked up as Adam strode in. “Adam, look at this. She’s captured Meg to a T,” exclaimed Lisa.

“Great job,” he said, admiring the photograph and then looking
enquiringly at Lisa for an introduction.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you haven’t met
,” she said. “Adam, this is Jenna’s friend, Andy – Andrea De Villiers. They share a house together. She’s a photographer.”

He
looked momentarily surprised, but soon recovered himself. “A very good photographer, too.” He offered his hand. “Pleased to finally meet you - Andy. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And me about you,” she replied with a wide grin, shaking his hand.

“Not all good, I expect. Arrogant. Domineering. Typical Yank?” he said, raising a querying eyebrow.

“No comment.”

“Andy takes the photographs for the school website and Jenna keeps it updated,” Lisa explained. “That’s how you both met, wasn’t it?” she said, turning to Andy.

“Yes. And been friends ever since,” Andy replied.

“I think it’s time we updated the website with some pictures of Adam,” said Lisa. “I’ll mention it to Jenna. What do you think, Adam?”

“You ladies sort it out between you and let me know what you decide,”
he said, moving towards his office. “Goodbye Andy, I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

Two weeks later Andy arrived to take the photographs. “I think we’ll go for a natural pose,” she said. “Where do you usually sit?”

“On the edge of the desk,”
Lisa said, laughing.

Adam
was wearing a charcoal suit, pale pink shirt with a silver and pink tie and the permanently tanned complexion of a man who has been raised in a sunny climate. While Andy set up the lighting he continued working at his desk.

“How many pictures are you going to take?” he asked.

“Quite a few so Jenna can choose which ones to use.”

“Which
ones
- how many does the website need?”

“That’s up to Jenna,”
she replied, adjusting the focus on the camera.

She took s
everal photographs of Adam sitting on the edge of the desk with his hands clasped in his lap, and some of him in his chair behind the desk. She was posing him standing with his arm resting on the top of the filing cabinet when the bell rang for afternoon break. Lisa popped her head round the door. “Will Andy be joining us for tea?” she asked.

“That’s up to her,” said Adam, glancing at Andy.

“I’ve just about finished,” she replied. 

Adam carried a spare
office chair through to the staffroom and straddled it, resting his arms on the back so that Andy could sit next to Jenna.

“So, Miss De Villiers, have you always been a photographer,” he asked, with his disarming smile.

Before Andy could reply Jenna cut in, “She started out as an artist.”

Adam
continued to address Andy. “So why did you change from art to photography?”

“The truth is, I like doing portraits
, but children and dogs don’t sit still for long. It’s easier to take photographs. I sometimes Photoshop them to look like portraits. Besides, you have to be more than just good to paint a decent portrait.”

“I can concur,” said Hayley Price
. She rarely volunteered a comment and faces turned to her in surprise. “I do charcoal and pencil sketches, but I wouldn’t attempt an actual portrait,” she continued, and then quietly returned to what she’d been doing, like a tortoise retreating into its shell.

“So where are you
from, Andy? I detect an accent,” said Adam.

“South Africa, originally. But I’ve been in the UK since I was twelve.”

“So do you drink
Rooibos
tea?”

She laughed. “How do you know about
Rooibos
tea?”

“
Nicole, my late wife’s kid sister, is working in South Africa,” said Adam. “My in-laws brought some back when they went to visit her.”

“So, do you like it?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” he said with a rueful grin.

“And what about biltong, have you tried that?”

“No. But I believe it’s like beef jerky.”

“B
iltong is also made from Springbok, Kudu and other game meats – even ostrich,” said Andy. “Everyone has their favourite.”

“You mean it’s
lekker
?”

“
Baie
lekker
,” said Andy, laughing. “Yes, it’s very good. Is Nicole teaching you Afrikaans?”

“Just the one word she took a fancy to,” said Adam.

“The battle of the dried meats,” said Jenna, with a hint of sarcasm, getting up and going toward the kitchen. “Would you like more tea, Andy?” she asked.

“No, thanks,”
she replied, briefly smiling up at Jenna before turning her attention back to Adam. “Where in South Africa is your sister-in-law working?”

“She’s studying veterinary science
and conservation at the Kruger Park.”

“
Really! Then you should also visit her. It’s a world famous park.”

“
I know,” he said, holding up his mug to show the inscription:
‘Had a WILD time at the Kruger Park’
. “Nicole sent it.” He put the mug down. “Do you return to South Africa very often, you must miss the sun?”

Andy darted a glance at Jenna. “Jenna and I are planning a trip
next year. She’s never been there.” She turned back to Adam, “I believe you’re from Hawaii – do you also miss the sun? Would you ever go back there to live?”

Everyone was waiting to hear Adam’s reply, especially Jenna Murray. 

“I was planning to return, but then I was offered this job,” he said.

Jenna’s mouth formed in a tight line.

“So you’re here for the foreseeable future,” said Andy.

He smiled and glanced at Jenna
, but didn’t reply.

Dee Taylor had been giving extra tennis coaching to some of the senior girls during the lunch break, but the weather was turning cold and only the staunchest were willing to brave the outdoor courts as the school did not have indoor tennis facilities. So Adam challenged Dee to a few sets. If the weather was conducive, and they were both available, they spent part of their lunch breaks on the tennis courts.

Barbara Crook was pouring coffee in the staff room when she glanced out of the window. “
Hey. Come and look at this,” she called to the rest of the staff. Lisa, Jenna Murray and Annette Woolf were the only ones to respond. They’d got used to seeing Adam and Dee on the tennis courts, but they were shocked to see Adam embracing Dee, who appeared to be crying.

“I wonder what that’s all about. She can’t be that upset about losing a match to him,” said Barbara Crook.

They watched
in puzzled shock as Adam led her off the tennis court, still with his arm round her.

When he put his head round the staffroom door to let them know he would be using the shower they expected an explanation about Dee Taylor, but none was forthcoming.

The head’s office had a small cloakroom adjoining it in which there was a wash basin and locker, but no toilet or shower. Adam used the men’s visitors’ toilet, but he kept his tracksuit and tennis gear in the head’s cloakroom. There was a shower and toilet in the locker room adjoining the staffroom, but the shower had rarely been used as the water was never more than lukewarm and the gym mistress was the only one who ever felt in need of a shower and she used the one in the gym. Adam now used the staffroom shower, but made sure to let everyone know beforehand if he was going to be using it.

Lisa waited until lessons had resumed and Adam was alone in his office before broaching the subject of Dee Taylor. “Adam, I know this sounds like prying, but we all saw Dee crying and feel bad that we know so little about her and that we can’t help. It would be just like Barbara Crook to ask her outright
why she was crying and I wouldn’t want to embarrass her. Is there anything anyone can do?”

Adam put down his pen. “
Please sit down, Lisa,” he said, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk. “I’m going to tell you, but please don’t repeat it without Dee’s permission.” He paused before continuing. “When she almost won the final set I said we should make a note of the date and she burst into tears. She told me that today is two years since her fiancé committed suicide.”

“Oh, my God,” said Lisa. 

“He was in the army and wounded in Afghanistan and when he came back he was a wreck. They put him on medication, but it seemed to make things worse and one day he couldn’t take it anymore and he gassed himself in his car. It was Dee who found him.”

Lisa
’s hand flew to her mouth. “That’s awful. Poor Dee.”

“I think she opened up to me because of Michelle and the children.”

“Perhaps I should go and see if she’s all right,” said Lisa.

“That might be a good idea. Tell her I’ve told you, but it won’t go any further unless she wants it to. I suggested she try Yoga to help her get over the loss.”

“Why? Did it help you?”

“
Nicole recommended yoga when she found it was helping her to get over Michelle.”

“Did it help you?

“Yes, to a certain extent. It stilled my mind and helped with the anger. Focusing on the body provides a break for the mind. Something kept drawing me back to it and I felt lighter and freer. I started to find peace.”

Lisa found Dee Taylor in the gym change room. “Adam told me. I’m so sorry
, Dee. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Dee shook her head
. “It’s helped a bit talking to Adam. He knows what it’s like losing someone you love.”

Lisa took Dee’s hand.
“Have you had any sort of counselling?”

“No. I don’t think that
would have helped me. Everybody deals with loss in a different way and I chose to bottle it up.”

“But you’re willing to talk about it now?”

“Yes. It’s probably time.”

She looked up with a smile. “Adam is going to show me a few Yoga positions that could help. The weather is getting a bit cold for tennis anyway,” she said,
grinning.

Adam continued to confuse the staff by changing seats in the staff room, and on this afternoon break Barbara Crook was sitting opposite him flipping through one of her women’s magazines scanning for new recipes, but also alert for articles of interest. “Here’s an interesting snippet,’ she said, settling down to share it whether or not anyone wanted to hear. “It’s titled -
How to Tell If He’s the One.
You can tell a man’s personality,” she read, “by the way he drives a car. You can tell how he will treat his wife by the way he treats his mother. And this is the interesting bit.” Here she paused until everyone, including Adam, was obliged to look up from what they were doing to listen. “You can tell how he will make love by the way he eats his food.”

Lauren Mathews
snorted. “That’s true. You should’ve seen the way my ex gobbled his food. And he thought a belch at the end was the ultimate in a show of appreciation.”

They
spluttered with laughter and Barbara Crook asked, “And did he fart after sex?” But the laughter trailed off to an embarrassed silence when they remembered Adam was there, apparently engrossed in a crossword.

“Don’t mind me,” he said, “But
from now on I think I’d better eat my lunch alone in my office.”

Lisa had to admit that the atmosphere in the staff room had
changed since Adam’s arrival. The companionship and camaraderie of the all-female group that sometimes erupted into girlish laughter was now absent. The faults and foibles of husbands, and men in general, were not mentioned, and medical conditions no longer discussed. The risqué jokes and innuendos, which sometimes met with disapproval but were tolerated because they were invariably funny and sometimes had them all in hysterical laughter  - after they’d been explained to Annette Woolf, did not seem appropriate in the presence of a man.