A Decent Education- Part 2
Davy scratched at the insistent stubble on his chin, looking at some of the various trophies in the cabinet conveniently located in the corridor that led to the canteen, “Something about it I don’t like.”
“Must you be so critical of everything?” Claire shot back.
“I’m not, I just think it’s off that…”
“Odd that what?”
“So many of the staff went to school here,”
“Your point being?”
“Well, it’s not usual,”
“I think what’s not usual is your attitude to our daughter’s education,”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know just what it means!”
“No, why don’t you tell me, eh?”
“Well, it’s always me who has to take the lead on these things!”
“That’s not fair,” he sighed, “I do care, you know?”
“Sometimes,” she paused, “you have a funny way of…”
“Anyway, let’s stop arguing. She could be back any moment…”
“Yes, don’t argue in front of the headteacher. We at least want a chance of Elsa getting in!”
“But why this school? I mean, why do you insist?”
“Do you ever listen to anything I say?”
“Of course I do, it’s just…”
“You really don’t remember…”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to…
“I told you more than once!” Claire came closely to him now, visibly annoyed.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to rem…”
She interrupted him, “I went here myself.”
As Davy went to reply, Ms. Mules returned. “Shall we go to get a bite to eat in the canteen? I will also have Elsa sent for. She seems to have spent an eon in that library!”
Ms. Mules whispered inaudibly to a prefect who was in the door of the lunchroom, and she scuttled off towards the library compliantly. With a gentle wave of her right arm, she ushered Davy and Claire towards the servers in the canteen.
“What would you like?” the server asked. Davy observed that once again, the woman behind the counter did not appear that much older than the girls who were eating quietly at rowed tables. He glanced over the menu.
“Shepherd’s Pie, please,” Davy said without enthusiasm. The server began spooning a generous portion out of the large tray in front of her.
“Not from there, from the staff food!” Ms. Mules interjected, a modicum of emotion entering her voice for the first time.
“The same please,” Claire said, not noticing the change in the headteacher’s tone.
The three of them made their way to the only empty table in the canteen, which was bare except for 4 knives and forks in front of 4 large wooden chairs. Davy observed that the chairs seemed identical to those the children were sitting on, just proportioned for adults.
The prefect returned momentarily with Elsa, who was a step behind. She looked quite pale.
“You alright? You were in that library for a long while. Know how you love your books!” Davy said.
“I…,” Elsa began, understanding that Ms. Mules was scrutinising her once again, “yes, fine. It was… fascinating.”
“Splendid,” Ms. Mules replied, never shifting her unstinting gaze.
The group of four ate their meals largely in silence, with Davy and Elsa momentarily exchanging a knowing glance. Claire’s eyes shot back between the pair, as if in disapproval.
“That was delicious,” Claire said optimistically.
The others did not react, with Ms. Mules continuing her perusal of Elsa. Whatever her actual thoughts of the young girl, the headteacher was expert at keeping them hidden from the object of her scrutiny.
“Let’s make our way to my office for a more... personal discussion,” Ms. Mules said, gesturing with one hand towards the far corner of the canteen.
Claire stood first to follow, Davy also followed but more slowly. Elsa was obligated to follow, but she again felt parallels with stories she had read where the characters are drawn somewhere against their will, as if their body is under the control of some intangible force. As she followed, she vowed to herself that whatever happened, she wouldn’t be intimidated or manipulated into doing anything against her will. She knew what she had seen, felt she knew what it meant and would hold to that thought tightly.
They made their way down a short corridor, painted almost a battleship grey. Ms. Mules bid them enter with her familiar sweeping gesture, the small oaken door seeming to move of its own volition.
There were three seats arranged immediately upon entry, identical to those from the canteen with two large either side and one Elsa assumed was intended for her in the centre. The room itself was austere, except for a large oak desk in the darkest of woods, with a few ornate faces carved into it. Elsa couldn’t decide if the faces were beautiful or ugly. The chair behind the desk was made of the same wood as the others, although significantly taller.
For a moment recalling the odour of earth from the library, Elsa discreetly sniffed the air. What struck her instantly was not the similarity with the library, nor the strong smell of aging wood she expected from that opulent desk that formed the centrepiece of the room. Instead, she caught the smell of nothing. Not even a fragment. Elsa thought this to be very strange. Just for a second, a fragment of a second, she felt afraid.
“Please, be seated,” Ms. Mules prompted them.
Davy sat first with Elsa in the middle and Claire to her right.
“Thank you again for making time to see us, I know you must be very busy,” Claire said with almost artificial enthusiasm, looking over at Davy who tried to gather a smile.
“A pleasure.” Ms. Mules took out a pair of glasses that Elsa judged to be oddly old fashioned and placed them on the end of her nose. “As always.” The headteacher took in each of them for a few seconds with restraint, before continuing. “So, what makes you want to join our community?”
Claire glanced at her husband, who gave the subtlest of shrugs. Elsa was staring quite intently at the desk in front of her. “We feel that Elsa could be a genuinely top student if she applied herself, but she isn’t push… isn’t sufficiently challenged at her current school.”
“I see,” Ms. Mules said with an encouraging nod.
Claire took this as a prompt to continue.“Her attention often wanders and I worry she might not achieve her potential.”
“Yes, I could see how that might be a concern for you.”
“And we know that this is such a great school, so you know…”
“Yes?”
“We really want her to get a decent education.”
“A decent education, yes.”
“So we came here with the hope that that would happen…”
“I see, yes that makes sense.”
“And we’d find a place where Elsa could get a decent education.”
“A decent education, yes indeed.”
“A decent education.” Claire drew in breath. “A decent education just like me.”
The most parsimonious of smiles crossed Ms. Mules’ lips, as she said softly, “Very good.” Elsa shot her mother an involuntary glance, as she finally understood.
“And you, my dear? Why do you wish to join our community?”
“I…”
“Speak properly, Elsa,” Claire chided.
“I really…”
“Take your time, we are all friends here,” the headteacher assured.
“Come on Elsa.” Claire’s impatience was evident.
“She’s nervous, encourage her,” Davy offered.
Elsa steeled herself. For a moment she glanced down at the table again and thought for a moment she saw an impression of her mother’s face, before she blinked, the light changed and it passed. “I really… don’t want to.”
“Elsa!” Claire blurted.
“Let her speak,” Davy said supportively but weakly.
“I admire your honesty, my dear. It is… refreshing. But tell me, didn’t you find our library intriguing?”
“Yes, I… suppose…”
“And don’t you want the best for yourself in the future?”
“I’d never really thought, but yes…”
“And isn’t a decent education going to help you with that?”
“It could… I’m not really…” Elsa glanced down at the desk again and for a moment in the half-light of the office’s gloam, a shadow danced across the oak that she thought bore an image of her own face. Was it her anxiety playing tricks? An illusion? Or something genuinely sinister?
“No, I don’t want this! I don’t want any of this!”
“Elsa! Sit down!” Claire exclaimed.
Ms. Mules looked ahead impassively, “It’s fine, I love that you are passionate and express yourself.”
Elsa slumped down into the chair. She put her hands on the armrests to steady herself, but for a moment it felt like the armrests had asserted themselves to trap her in place. The feeling passed, as she took a large breath of tasteless air to try to hide her encroaching anxiety.
Davy gave Elsa a scan. It was a brief look not of disapproval or distaste, but of pride. She took ephemeral strength from it, to raise her eyes from the floor to the waiting headteacher’s blue eyes, unfleeting in their quizzical stare.
“Your passion can make you a genuine asset here, if channeled correctly,” the headteacher opined, never lifting her gaze from Elsa’s.
“But in the library I saw…”
“What did you see?” Ms. Mules interjected quickly, cutting off Elsa’s train of thought.
“I saw… pictures… Pictures of…”
“Yes?”
“Of you… Over so many… years…”
“That’s likely my dear, I’ve been here for so long.”
“But they were so long ago. Impossibly long ago!”
“Impossibly long ago? Not only such passion, but a brilliant imagination!”
“But… but… fifty years ago, eight years ago, you were there!”
“Me? Are you sure it was me? Perhaps it has been such a busy day, your mind is playing tricks?”
“I’m… certain… it was you!”
“Surely not, my dear. Some relative, perhaps? My family has a… long history, in this community.”
Elsa stared down, briefly doubting her conviction. Looking into that dark desk, she swore she saw yet another face. This time at first calm, then friendly, then at last cruel. Staring back not just into her eyes, but into her heart, into her mind. As if it knew. Not just knew who she was, but what she thought. What she would do next. Understood. Anticipated. Manipulated.
