Sugar and Space Chapter 18

 Chapter Eighteen

October 20 Monday morning

Elise Hanson’s Office

Cambridge, Massachusetts

  

ELISE HANSON WATCHED the rain pound her office’s bay windows. A cold cup of tea rested in front of her. Her secretary always served her tea or coffee in a Villeroy and Boch floral pattern that somehow made it taste just a little bit better. When she lived in New York, she only used mugs with cute sayings bought at flea markets.

But nothing would help this morning. She was still shaken from last week’s events. The only thing that would help would be for everything wrong to disappear. That wasn’t going to happen.

One good thing besides the pounding rain was a wind, a typical New England autumn storm, her secretary said. Maybe that was what drove the journalists away from the front of the school. Elise suspected it wasn’t just the weather that drove them away, but a baggage handler strike at Logan Airport causing them to forget HJPS.

Her secretary appeared at the door. “Richard Collins is here. No appointment.”

Shit, shit, shit, Elise thought as she went to where he was sitting in the waiting area outside her office. The two rooms had once been the living and dining rooms. “Please come in,” was what she said and led him into her office.

One corner had a couch and two easy chairs surrounding a round antique coffee table. Elise guessed it was late 18^th century and Victorian, real Victorian, not a copy. She’d watched enough BBC antique shows to recognize antiques even if her own New York City flat had been furnished with used everything bought from secondhand shops or discovered in the trash.

Collins was HJPS Board Chairman. Elise’s secretary brought him the coffee he had requested when he first arrived and waited till he was seated in front of Elise.

Collins was in his mid-forties.

His hair was drenched. Because his jeans and sweater were dry, Elise assumed he had worn a raincoat. She also assumed that her secretary had done everything to make him comfortable while he waited.

She knew he was dressed for business, his business as a contractor who was currently working on a low-rise office building in Watertown. Most of her students’ parents would be wearing suits, expensive suits.

Collin’s wife oversaw human resources at one of the Boston women’s colleges. “Don’t you dare call it Human Remains,” she said when they were introduced at a meet-and-greet with the board and faculty Elise’s third day on the job.

They had had a pleasant conversation - half professional, half personal. It was the type of meeting where a friendship might be kindled if work responsibilities didn’t get in the way. She hoped the wife would have a positive influence on her husband’s vote for Elise to keep her job.

Richard Collins was one of those good-looking men with a full head of wavy greying hair. Because his work was sometimes physical, he had a build that many men in his age group might envy. Elise always wondered if men checked out other men the way women checked out each other but never found the opportunity nor the courage to ask.

“What the hell is going on?” Richard said after sitting and test sipping his coffee. His tone was neither combative nor warm.

Elise summarized the story: the whistleblower, the police coming to the school twice, once to do a locker search, the alleged play which was shaky at best.” She didn’t mention the names.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“The police said I wasn’t to contact anyone.”

“Thanks to the news, I’ve been deluged with calls: e-mails, WhatsApp messages. I stopped at a 7-Eleven last night and Jody Watson’s father came up to me and asked . . . never mind what he asked, but it wasn’t friendly. And never mind the news people calling.”

“I heard your ‘no comment.’”

“And I heard yours. I never thought we’d need a professional PR person on staff, but I’m beginning to consider that.”

“There are agencies. I can get you a list.” Elise wanted to say they were all in New York. She hadn’t been in Boston long enough to develop local contacts. Maybe she wouldn’t be here long enough to do that. Or maybe if she handled this well enough it would cement her job for years to come. She chided herself for thinking that way when she should be concentrating on the welfare of the children involved.

“It might be handy. Where are those involved today?” he asked.

“None came to school today. I was planning to meet with the parents individually as soon as it could be arranged despite what the police said. They’ve interviewed everyone but the whistleblower.” Elise had not given them Margaux’s name, although she said she would if it became absolutely necessary. She was able to repeat what Margaux had told her and assured the police it was as close to word-for-word as was humanly possible.

They accepted it but told her it that their acceptance could be revoked at any time.

“I agree. Do we expel them?”

“If you have no objections, I think suspension until the matter is resolved.”

“Under normal circumstances I would say that’s your decision, but we’re having a board meeting tonight, and I want you there to present all that you know.”

Shit, shit, shit, she thought again. “Of course,” was what she said.

Collins picked up his coffee. There was no steam. He drank half. “The Franklins told me they are pulling Clay out. They want to put him in the Friends School. They will put him into the public system until Friends gives them an answer. Naturally, you will give them all the help they need, but I’d like you to try and persuade them Clay is safe here.”

Elise wasn’t sure she could do that if all those involved were back in their classes. Robin’s comment that there was no official play writing contest made her doubt the girls’ story, but then again, kids, er children, come up with ideas all the time. Have any of the other parents you’ve talked to expressed worries about their children’s safety?”

“Most of them.”

“That one of them brought a knife to school worries me. I hate the idea of having to need metal detectors.” Elise had worried about school security. In New York her last school had guards. The school’s worries were more about someone coming from the outside, not from inside the school.

“I was looking into giving Freddy and Jack some security training in rather than hire security guards.”

“Freddy and Jack?”

“Our custodians.” She knew the word janitor was a no-no here just like the word kids instead of children, students or pupils was a no-no. No guns of course.”

“You can bring it up tonight at the meeting if I ask you to, but don’t do anything until I ask.”

Elise nodded.

“When we hired you, I never thought this would come up.”

“Neither did I.”

Collins stood. “I need to get to work.”