Page 48 of Want It All
‘I believe so.’
She glanced back at her office, then leaned forward. ‘You’re a first year, yes? TheOriginscourse?’ I nodded, and her expression turned hard. ‘I’ll get you the form.’
She turned away to rifle through a drawer, then came back with a handful of paper. ‘This is the complaint form. If you search the website, you’ll find an online version, too. It’s entirely anonymous. Fill it out, give as much support to your suspicions as you can, and either drop it into the box over there –’ she gestured to an ancient-looking wooden box bolted to the wallbehind me ‘– or submit via the online portal. It would help,’ she said slowly, ‘if there was more than one complaint. When we have a submission, we go back through the records to check whether anything similar has occurred in the past. Repeated complaints can see swift … action.’
‘Thank you,’ I said quietly. ‘I can think of a few other people who might have something to say.’
She lowered her voice again. ‘There’s something else you can do. Something that will guarantee a response.’
Her lips were slightly twisted, and I wondered if betas and omegas were the only ones Heathcote targeted. Universities were famous for their bizarre hierarchies, and support staff were usually at the bottom of the power pile. ‘What’s that?’ I asked.
‘If you were happy putting your name to it, you could email the Dean and copy in the Banksia board. There’d be no way they could ignore it, then.’
‘Do you think they would? Ignore it? The complaint form, I mean.’
She pursed her lips. ‘The old Dean did.’
Byron didn’t strike me as the kind of person raised by a woman who would ignore an injustice, but I might have misread him. ‘I’ll do that. Thanks.’
‘Just … be careful,’ the woman said seriously. ‘The world of academia is small, and any one of our teaching staff has the power to make things … difficult … in the real world. If you put your name to the complaint, there could be … repercussions.’ She paused. ‘Did you want to specialise in anthropology or archaeology? The lecturer in question is quite well-known.’
I looked down at the complaint form. I understood what she was telling me: I might have a win here, cocooned by process and bureaucracy, but outside Banksia, Heathcote would have the power to affect my future career – or perhaps even end it before it ever began.
I’dlovedmy undergraduate archaeology degree. Being on digs were some of the happiest moments of my entire life, and Sebastian wasn’t the only one who wanted to do further research. If I did this, Heathcote could seriously complicate the plans I’d had for my own higher-degree study and the profession I’d coveted for years.
I thought about Rose’s forced smile.You should seriously consider whether you deserve your place here.
Fuck. That.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’ll be fine. This is worth the risk.’
The woman nodded. ‘Then send the email as soon as you can. You could copy in the administration office email address, too. For our records.’
I nodded, understanding her subtext. An email to the Dean and the board might go missing or be overlooked. An email to the administrative office, where multiple people had access to it, could forward it, and save its content? That would be harder tooverlook.
This woman was on my side, and it was a nice feeling.
‘I’ll send it today,’ I said. ‘Thank you. Truly.’
She nodded. ‘Universities are odd places,’ she mused. ‘They’re like their own little worlds, with their own rules. Sometimes, people forget there’s a whole universe outside them, and the power goes to their heads.’ She smiled at me again. ‘It isn’t real life here. It’s good to remember that.’
I thought about her words as I headed for the First Year Library to draft my email.
Once it had left my outbox, I started my next project – but it wasn’t study.
I clicked into an article about Heathcote winning his high school’s History medal. Within minutes, I had his academic records, his family details, his early medical records – and I was deep into an archived exchange on social media where oneparty seemed to be heavily implying that Heathcote had been implicated in contract cheating.
I smiled.
If there was a chance Heathcote could threaten my future, then I’d be ready for it.
‘Howhasyourweekbeen, darling?’
My mother’s voice was comforting. It felt like warm hugs and safe places, like cosy winter mornings and kisses on the forehead.
‘It, um –’ I faltered.
I was trying not to be dramatic, but I hadn’t had a week this bad in quite some time.
