some relief. ‘Sure.’
After asking directions from a confounded and harried-looking young boy, who was clearly late for a class and flushed crimson as he spoke to her whilst staring, transfixed, at her pierced navel, exposed above the low waistline of her jeans, she eventually found the housemaster’s study. She knocked, and hearing a muffled acknowledgement coming from within, opened the thick, heavy wooden door and stepped inside.
A man in a scruffy brown suit jacket and dark trousers that were scuffed with chalk dust was standing over an untidy desk shuffling through a tray of papers.
‘Yes?’ he grunted, without looking up.
‘You’re Mr North, the housemaster?’ she asked.
Mr North looked up, and did a double take. ‘I’m sorry, who are you?’
‘Leona Sutherland. My brother’s in your house.’
‘Uhh, right well, you do know family visits are limited to specific weekends, don’t you?’
Leona nodded. ‘Of course. But I’m not really visiting.’
He stopped shuffling through his tray. ‘So then, how can I help you?’
‘I’m here to collect Jacob and take him home.’
Mr North frowned. ‘I don’t know anything about this. When was this arranged? Because I’ve not received any written approval from the Head. At least I don’t think I have. Let me just check my in-tray.’ He leant across his desk and started rummaging through another tray, full to overflowing with papers and envelopes yet to be opened.
Leona wondered whether she could take advantage of his apparent inability to keep abreast of his paperwork, and lie to him - make out that it had already been approved and he’d simply lost the letter.
‘I mean it’s possible that I just missed it,’ he continued, slightly flustered as he sorted through the haphazardly piled envelopes and notes, ‘and the approval’s in here somewhere. When did your parents write to me about this?’
Decision time . . . oh shit, I’m crap at lying.
‘They didn’t.’
Mr North looked up, a momentary confusion written across his face.
‘They decided this morning to take Jake out, and they sent me to collect him,’ Leona added.
The housemaster frowned and then shook his head. ‘No. I’m sorry. It doesn’t work that way. We need a written request from a pupil’s parents or legal guardians, and a very good reason given before we allow them to be taken out in the middle of a term.’
‘They have a very good reason, Mr North,’ replied Leona. ‘They both think the world’s about to come to an end.’
That sounded pretty bloody silly, well done.
Mr North stopped shuffling through his in-tray and looked up at her. ‘The riots?’
Leona nodded.
He came around from behind the desk and took a few steps towards her. ‘Your mum and dad aren’t the only ones.’ He lowered his voice ever so slightly. ‘I’ve already had two other parents call me this morning to ask if their sons could be taken out.’
‘And can they?’
He shook his head, ‘Only with written consent, and approval from the headmaster.’
‘Please, I really need to get my brother.’
The housemaster studied her silently for a moment. ‘I was watching the news last night. It does look very worrying. It does seem like the world went a little mad yesterday. I do wonder if there’ll be more going on today.’
‘I don’t know. But my dad’s in the oil business, and he’s the one who’s panicking.’
‘Why haven’t your parents come for him?’
‘Dad’s stuck in Iraq, and Mum’s stuck up in Manchester. They’ve stopped the trains and coaches.’
Mr North looked surprised. ‘Stopped the—?’
‘They didn’t say why. So it’s just me, and I need to get him.’
He nodded silently, deep in thought. ‘Look, I have to get to my lesson, I’m already late.’
Leona took a step forward. ‘Please!’
He studied her silently for a while, a long silence, punctuated by the sound of a clock ticking from the mantelpiece above a decorated Victorian fireplace. ‘Maybe your father’s right,’ he said quietly. ‘You can see the way this could possibly go.’
Leona nodded. ‘My dad thinks we’re going to be in really big trouble.’
‘I see.’
She offered him a wan smile. ‘That’s why I’ve got to get my brother.’
Mr North nodded. ‘Hmmm. It does seem really quite worrying. ’
‘Please,’ she said, ‘I have to get him. I’m in a hurry.’
He looked at her silently for a moment. ‘I can’t give you my permission to just walk in and take him without prior written consent. But,’ he said, ‘I can’t really stop you if I don’t know about it, can I?’
She understood and nodded a thank you.
‘Who’s your brother?’
‘Sutherland. Jacob Sutherland.’
‘Ahh yes, junior year two. I think you’ll find his