Page 95 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘Admit it, you love him.’

‘What if I do? It doesn’t make any difference.’ Harriet changed the subject. ‘Is it still OK for me to leave early today?’

‘Of course it is! You’ve been waiting all week for this meeting. You have to go. Let’s hope the headteacher can sort it out. You can’t go on having Sara bullied, the poor little mite. Is she still refusing to go to school?’

‘She can refuse all she likes, but she’s got to go and that’s that. It doesn’t help that she’s missing he-who-shall-not-be-named.’

‘Owen?’ Pen’s voice was louder than it needed to be.

‘Shhh!’ Harriet glanced around to see if any of the Pantry’s customers had heard. ‘It’s been hard on both kids.’

‘You’re going to have to tell them at some point that he’s gone for good.’

‘Not until after Christmas,’ Harriet insisted. ‘And by then they’ll have hopefully forgotten about him.’

‘Don’t be so sure.’

Harriet wasn’t sure at all; she was just trying to convince herself. Telling them that Owen was visiting his parents for the festive season would only work for so long. She was sure Sara smelled a rat, because her daughter kept on about Owen being at the Christmas Fayre on Sunday. She was adamant that he wouldn’t miss it, no matter how many times Harriet told her that he wouldn’t be there.

Bobby, on the other hand, had gone quiet after the initial seemingly endless questions, and Harriet was worried about him.

Great – that meant she was concerned about both of her children. Some Christmas this was going to be.

Christmas decorations were on display in the school’s foyer, Harriet noticed, as she perched primly on a hard plastic chair to await the headteacher. As she studied the acrylic paintings dotted around the walls, with the caption ‘Contenders in our Christmas Card Competition’ emblazoned above, she wondered where Sara was. She had asked that her daughter be in the meeting, and she hoped Sara would be brave enough to tell Mrs Cooke what was going on. It would be much better coming from her than from Harriet.

Harriet heard the click of high heels coming down the corridor and she sat up straighter as Mrs Cooke hoved into view.

‘Mrs Parry? Would you like to follow me? Is it still bitterly cold outside?’

‘Um, yes, it’s freezing.’

‘I think we might be in for some snow,’ the headteacher said. ‘I know there’s none forecast, but I can smell it in the air.’

All Harriet could smell was a faint aroma of boiled cabbage, presumably from the canteen, floor polish and the headteacher’s perfume. It made for an unpleasant combination.

To Harriet’s relief, Sara was already waiting in Mrs Cooke’s office. She looked petrified; her eyes were huge, with dark circles beneath them, and her face was thin and pale. On seeing her daughter, Harriet was even more determined to put an end to Darlene’s bullying ways. And if nothing was done, Harriet was prepared to take Sara out of this school and move her to another.

‘I’m pleased to hear Sara has been behaving herself,’ Mrs Cooke began. ‘She’s settled back into school after her exclusion and I don’t have any concerns at this moment in time.’

‘Youmightn’t, butIhave,’ Harriet retorted. ‘I wanted to have a meeting with you because I know why Sara lashed out at Darlene. And before you say anything, I don’t condone what my daughter did, but neither do I condone Darlene’s behaviour. She has been bullying Sara ever since term started, and she bullies many of the other children, too. They are scared of her, and Sara is terrified.’

Mrs Cooke cocked an eyebrow. ‘She didn’t seem terrified when she slapped her across the face.’

Harriet felt Sara’s hand slip into hers and she squeezed it tightly. It had taken her a long time to persuade her daughter to tell her why she had snapped and hit Darlene, and she knew Sara was scared of reprisals, but this had to be said.

‘Darlene was saying some horrid things to her. And while I know that’s not an excuse, I’ll try to put it into context.’ Harriet hurried on when she saw the headteacher’s expression, proceeding to tell her all about the challenge, the dress and the party. The only thing she didn’t mention was the family’s financial situation, which had been the main driving force behind buying second-hand items in the first place, figuring that it was no one else’s business but her own. Instead, she focused on the environmental benefits.

‘Is this true?’ Mrs Cooke asked Sara when Harriet had finished.

Sara nodded miserably.

‘Tell Mrs Cooke what Darlene said when she realised you were wearing one of her old dresses,’ Harriet urged.

‘She laughed at me and said she didn’t like the dress anyway and it looked stupid on me.’

‘What else?’ Harriet said.

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