The Apprentice
by and © N Fourbois
Chapter 25
Dean, Colleen and Kieran made their way quietly and confidently out towards Reception.
"Don't bother picking up your work. You won't be coming back here even if we have to send you to the local tech." As they passed the stony faced receptionist, they smiled and said goodbye. Back in the car Dean said "We'll go and get coffee somewhere and then we can talk about the meeting and get it off our chests. Then we'll drop you off at home. The rest of the day is your own. Officially we're still on our business trip until tomorrow, but since it is the business which provides all the goodies, I think we'd better put in an appearance."
"I just wanted to say, Dad, you were fantastic. How did you manage it?"
"A cool mind, logic and years of dealing with people." He was not boasting. Dean was quite matter of fact about it.
He drove his family to the town's five star hotel. They went into the lounge where the parents ordered coffee and Kieran asked for hot chocolate. He looked around at the two waiters, was not impressed, very amused, however, for one looked and walked like Mr Bean. His mirth became almost uncontrollable when he spoke with a French accent.
"Behave yourself, Kieran," said his mother. When they had been served and the waiters had disappeared to polish the cutlery, the boy returned to some semblance of normality.
"That was sweet, Dad. I was watching old Placey's face all the time. Was he uncomfortable!"
"There are one or two lessons for you to learn from that encounter, my son."
"Go on, Dad. I'm listening."
"It's not a pleasant experience destroying a person, but on rare occasions it has to be done. It wouldn't surprise me if the first thing he did after we left was to cancel all his engagements for the rest of the day and go sick. Next is the importance of preparation. I'm lucky. I can retain it in my head, but even so, Mum had all the prep written down in the back of her shorthand pad. Mr Placey wasn't sufficiently prepared. Admittedly we set the agenda and he didn't quite know what was coming. Notice too that no voices were raised and no bad language was used. Lose your temper and lose the argument. Finally, you need the conviction that right is on your side. Still, let's put it all behind us and just wait for the reaction."
"Just one last thing, Dad. Are you really playing golf with Braithwaite's father on Saturday?"
"Mmm, could be. You remember I said I knew the name. Later it clicked. He's in my golf club and I have played a round with him before." For a couple of seconds Kieran's eyes glazed as he thought 'Now that's funny. Dad's played a round with Braithwaite's dad and I've played around with the son.' He sniggered to himself. "If need be, I'm prepared to ring him up and ask him if he wants a game on Saturday. With the St Sergius's connection I don't think he'd refuse, but I don't think it will be necessary. I may be wrong."
"I'm going to call Orlando tonight about coming on holiday with us. He wants to know how much it's going to cost him. He's not going to get any help from home because his parents don't approve of him being gay, but he's says he's earnt enough for him to afford a little holiday without affecting his university money."
"I'll check the costs and tell you this evening before you ring Orlando," said his mother. "When have you got to phone?"
"Eight o'clock. That's when he has his break. Oh, and another thing. Can he stop over again this weekend?" Colleen looked at Dean.
"We're not doing anything, are we?"
"I might be playing golf," chuckled Dean.
"Okay then, Kieran."
"Friday night to Monday morning?"
"Looks as if I'll have to get in extra supplies when we do the supermarket run. You can give me a hand with that, Kieran."
Kieran was duly deposited at home and his parents went off to work. He was at a loss about what to do. He thought 'Hmm, Mum won't be home until three.' He knocked himself up some sandwiches and a long cool barley water and took it out into the garden. He set up a sunbed, went back indoors, threw off all his clothes, brought GY mag with him, slapped some sunscreen on and settle down to read. He wanted to impress Orlando with the lack of tanlines. All was going well until he got to the centrefold. He ogled at it, could not take his eyes off it until he got a stiffie, automatically started jerking off and only just avoided gluing the pages together. And that was Tuesday.
Late Thursday afternoon all the family were at home. After dinner Colleen was going to drive Kieran to Sainsbury's to help with the weekend shop. There was a ring at the front door.
"Kieran, will you answer that, please? I'm in the middle of making a pie crust," called out Colleen.
"Hallo, Mr Aitchison," said Kieran. Mr Aitchison was the next door neighbour with the cough.
"I thought you might like to have this." He handed over some letters. "I've just got in and found that the postman put your mail through our letter box. Now I must go and find out if mine's been delivered to the neighbour the other side."
"Thank you, Mr Aitchison," replied Kieran. He closed the door and took the post into the kitchen where in the meantime his father had appeared.
"It's the post," said Kieran. The postman put it in next door by mistake. He handed the letters to his father.
"Two letters from St Sergius's, two junk mail and one for you," as he handed a plain white DL envelope to Kieran.
"You open them, Dean," said Colleen. "I can't act as your PA when my hands are covered with flour." He opened the DL envelope first.
"Mmm, interesting. From the Bursar. ‹Dear Mr and Mrs Williams, I am instructed by the Board of Governors to forward the attached cheque in respect of your son's fees for the current term. Kindly acknowledge receipt. Yours sincerely, etc.&esaquo; Well, you couldn't get more icy or unwilling than that. It's made out for the whole term net... to the penny. Kieran, will you put that in the bank for us tomorrow morning, please? The school's bank. It's only a few yards along from ours. Just in case they change their mind. I'll acknowledge it when we give notice that you won't be returning in September."
"What's in the other one?" asked Colleen. Dean took a knife and slit open the bulky C4 envelope. He drew out the contents. The main part was a copy of the protocol taken at the meeting with the Headmaster, the remaining part a covering letter."
"Go on, Dean. Read it."
"Give me a chance. I'm just scanning it. ‹From the Deputy Headmaster. Dear Mr and Mrs Williams, since the Headmaster is at present on extended sick leave I have been requested to review Kieran's exclusion and related matters. At the time I naturally knew of his exclusion, but I was not privy to the details. I therefore trust that I can approach the matter without prejudice. I have also been given full powers by the Governors to deal with the matter as I think fit and asked to keep them informed of any conclusions. Consequently I have read the records from the time, the School's protocol from your meeting with the Headmaster and your own detailed record of that meeting.
"‹I shall refer first to Kieran's exclusion. In my professional experience in both co-ed and boys' schools, such encounters as the one between Kieran and Keith Braithwaite are not uncommon, nor are they ultimately harmful. Naturally the School cannot endorse such behaviour, but it should deal with it sympathetically and by giving guidance. I therefore judge the punishment of exclusion until the end of term excessive and disproportionate. Kieran is free to rejoin his classes on receipt of this letter, although I shall understand if he chooses not to. Please keep me informed on this point. The exclusion will be erased from his school record.
"‹I have interviewed Keith Braithwaite and he confirms what was stated at your meeting, namely that he was coerced by the prefect body into encouraging the encounter with Kieran. Under the circumstances I do not consider that justice would be furthered by punishing him at this late stage. We have reached that time in the school year where the prefects involved have left school after their A-level exams and the School no longer holds any authority over them. I regret that my only option is to write to those named, apprise them of the accusation, give them the opportunity of accounting for themselves and say that if they decide not to, the letter would remain in their file.
"‹I believe the Bursar is currently dealing with your request concerning school fees and he will be replying separately.
"‹The Board of Governors is now in possession of the full facts of this matter and they have asked me to offer you, and more to the point Kieran, their apologies and the School's for the way it has been handled. If you would like to discuss any further points with me, please make an early appointment through the Headmaster's PA. While I feel that a formal apology to you and Kieran is of scant comfort after what you have been through, please let me know if there is anything more practical that we can do.› Now that is a letter from a gentleman."
"So where do we go from here?" asked Colleen.
"We give notice that Kieran is leaving forthwith. On the strength of the last paragraph we say that we expect the School to waive a term's fees in lieu of notice and that they provide a helpful reference to get him into another school. What do you think of that, Kieran?"
"I'm behind it one hundred percent."
"And have you any idea where you would like to go?"
"Is the College out of the question?"
"Colleen, would you get in touch with the College first thing in the morning, please?"
"Certainly, dear, but would you kindly remember that this is the kitchen, not the office, and that I'm boss here."
"Sorry, dear," and he kissed his wife.
"You said Placey would go sick, Dad."
"Yes. I only wonder now whether he went voluntarily or whether the Governors placed him on sick leave."
"I bet Martha Tidville enjoyed typing that letter from the Deputy Head... not!" said Colleen.
In his excitement Kieran had almost forgotten to open his letter. He slit the envelope. It was a cheque from Orlando to cover his airfare.
"You can pay that one in at the same time," said his father.
The following morning, Friday, Kieran considered he deserved a lie in. It had been a week where he had expended a lot of nervous energy and he wanted to be at his best when Orlando was there. He still had not dealt with the thorny problem of the sleeping arrangements. He was lightly dozing. In the background he was conscious of a telephone ringing, but didn't think it concerned him. Suddenly he heard a sharp rapping at his bedroom door and Mrs Crater shouting.
"Kieran! Kieran! Your mother's on the phone and wants to speak to you." He crawled out of bed and grabbed his bath robe to cover his naked body.
"Hallo, Mum."
«Good afternoon, Kieran.»
"It's not that late, is it?"
«Some of us have done a day's work already. Okay, down to business. Best suit, polished shoes. You are to report to Reception at College at twelve o'clock.»
"Today?"
«Today. You'll be given the unofficial guided tour and have lunch. At two o'clock your father and I will join you and be interviewed by the Headmaster, or we'll interview the Headmaster, as your father says, since we're the paying customers.»
"Okay, Mum. I'll get polishing. See you at two."
«You'll have to catch the bus.»
"Okay, I'll cope. I'm seventeen soon."
«Yes, I know, love. It's just that you've grown up so quickly.»
"And it's okay if Orlando sleeps in my room? Thanks, Mum. See you later," and he put the phone down. 'Phew! Let's see if I slipped that one under the razor wire.'
He went into the kitchen to get himself some breakfast. There was no point going back to bed. He tied his bath robe tightly round him. Mrs Crater was vacuuming and he had visions of her Dyson sucking his dick into the machine if his robe fell open. 'Mum used to say the ducks would get it when I was a little boy changing on the beach.'
While he was eating his muesli, Mrs Crater came in for a chat.
"Yes, I'll have a cuppa if you've got one there, dear." He didn't have, but he took the hint and made two mugs of coffee. "So what are you up to this weekend?"
"Orlando's staying," he volunteered without realising it might just be too much information.
"Yes, your mother mentioned it. He's a nice boy. Makes me laugh to see him ironing his uniform on a Monday morning. He'll make someone a good husband one day." Was she fishing, Kieran wondered. They carried on chatting and when she had finished her coffee she rinsed the mug and put it in the dishwasher. "I won't bother getting the spare room ready. Your mother didn't mention it. I did just wonder as your parents were home this weekend." Kieran blushed. He knew exactly what she was hinting at.
Kieran cleared his breakfast things away and went up to shave, shower and get some clothes on. He came down and took his shoes into the garden to polish them. Finally he climbed into his best suit, said goodbye to Mrs Crater and made his way into town to bank the cheques before catching the bus out to the College.
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