Lucy bounced into the small brightly painted room that served as the principal’s office. Books and files were piled everywhere, and children’s artworks adorned the yellow walls. Lena was deep in concentration, her face glued to her computer screen.
“Sorry to bother you, boss, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m on my way. I’ll take Mikey home today.”
“No problem, Lucy.” Today, Lena wore dangly beaded earrings that fell almost to her shoulders. “Are you making progress with that child?” she asked.
“It’s going to be a long road,” Lucy answered. “I’ve gone right back to basics. It seems he really doesn’t know the alphabet, so I’m redoing the basic phonics stuff with a few extra techniques.”
“God bless you, Lucy. I’ve always worried about that child, but the truth is the other teachers were unable to get to the bottom of his problems. Maybe now he has a chance.” Lena said all this without taking her eyes off her screen.
“Mind if I ask what you’re up to?” Lucy asked.
“Web design,” was the firm answer.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were an IT whizz.”
“I am a woman of many talents,” Lena said and smiled broadly.
“We need to give the school a fresh, up-to-date professional website. We need funding and we can’t just rely on the charity of the de Langes and a few other local businesses. We want the kind of corporate sponsorship that can build us a gym, a science lab, and a real library. For that, sponsors want to see that we are a proper, professional school, and the website is the first thing potential donors want to see.”
Lucy nodded in agreement. The school was in need of funds. She particularly wished she could take her pupils on some school trips, but the money just wasn’t there.
“We have to get some really good pictures for our website, of the children and the staff. I really want to do a profile on you, Lucy. Not many farm schools can claim to have a teacher with your remedial qualifications. You’re an asset and you’ll help to sell the school.”
As if by instinct, Lucy took a step backward. This news had caught her completely unaware. The very reason she had chosen Swartberg School was so that she could hide. If this website went ahead with her profile, then any idiot could find her with a Google search.
“Lucy, what’s wrong? Do you have a thing against the internet?”
“No, no, it’s not that. I… I just don’t really want the exposure, that’s all. I’m happy to just do my job,” she fumbled for an explanation. “I guess I’m a little publicity shy.” She hated making up excuses. The truth was she had been prepared to marry into a high-profile family and had agreed to a huge society wedding. Publicity shy my ass, she thought.
“But, Lucy, the school needs all the help it can get. We all have to pull together to make Swartberg Primary the best it can be.” Lena looked disappointed and it broke Lucy’s heart. Swartberg School had been so welcoming to her. The least she could do would be to support its fundraising efforts.
“Well, I wasn’t going to do the profiles for a few weeks. I first need to get the hang of this design stuff. I’ll have to register domains and so on.”
Unsure of how to respond, Lucy tried to change the subject. “I’m going to drive Mikey home now, perhaps have a word with his mother if she’s there.”
Lena let out a deep sigh. She turned away from the computer screen and gave Lucy her full attention. Her expression, normally one of great cheerfulness, was now serious. “You know, Lucy, maybe you just have to face what happened.”
“What happened?” Lucy swallowed hard. Had she let something slip? Had someone said something? She felt a sense of rising panic. “Nothing happened…” Lucy tried to reply, but Lena waved her answer away.
“You can’t fool me,” Lena said. Her dark-brown eyes were heavily lined. She was a woman who had seen a great deal of what life had to offer, the good and bad, and had chosen to be positive in the face of it.
“Everyone has a story,” she said. “And I don’t pretend to know yours. But I can tell you this, Lucy. I’m a good judge of character and you are a good person. Whatever you did, maybe you should stop judging yourself so harshly. We all make mistakes.”
Lucy felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. It was a shock and also in some strange way, a relief for someone to see through the carefully constructed persona she had adopted.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Lena said. “But maybe it’s time to quit hiding from whatever it is you’re running from.”
Lucy didn’t have an answer and could only place her face in her hands. Lena was wise and kind, but she couldn’t possibly know the scale of what she’d done. She had created a national incident and unwittingly brought down a political dynasty. With her impulsive actions, she’d made powerful enemies, and the Palmers weren’t the kind of people who would accept humiliation lying down.
Gathering herself together, she hoisted her book bag on her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lena folded her hands and placed her chin upon them. “I’m here if you want to talk. No judgment from my side.”
“I’m fine, really.” Lucy absently twisted and rubbed her hands together. She quickly changed the subject. “And I’ve got some great ideas about the art evening,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. And with that, she was out the door.
Lucy’s little beige pickup truck bounced over the rutted farm roads.
“Go faster!” squealed Mikey, who loved being driven home by his teacher. It made him feel special not having to squeeze into the taxi with all of the other kids. Normally, the two chatted animatedly on the way to Mikey’s house, but today after her conversation with Lena, Lucy was subdued.
Surely, Lena couldn’t really know what had happened. Admittedly, Lucy had been totally switched off from social media for nearly a year. A while back, she’d run a search on Jason Palmer and the only new information she could find was an article about him attending a sex addiction clinic.
There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that it had been his idea.
The more she uncovered about Jason Palmer, the more she realized his behavior over the years had the pattern of a sociopath. She doubted he would change as the result of some new-agey clinic, probably with lots of group therapy and yoga by the pool.
Cutting off all contact had been a good strategy on her part as far as moving on with her life was concerned. On occasion, when she spoke to her closest friends or family, she asked them not to relay any information regarding the Palmers. She’d been desperate to distance herself from the entire sorry saga and put the trauma of the fallout behind her.
Now, driving out of the farm gates, she wondered if that had been a good tactic. What was that saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Her best friend Amy had suggested she stay online, make herself too famous to be threatened. Scandals were a dime a dozen these days, she’d said, and once you fade from the national consciousness, you’re a sitting duck. Amy had a point, but that game was too high stakes for Lucy and she had chosen flight over fight. Now here she was halfway across the world and still carrying that ridiculous Taser.
She drove on the tar road toward the town of Lourensville. She tried the car radio but heard only static. The main road was pretty with a few coffee shops and antique dealers. There were some guesthouses in town and one smart bistro. Lourensville had a small tourist trade. It was a bit off the beaten track and too far from Cape Town to attract throngs of visitors.
Was she crazy? She’d asked herself that question many times. Would Jason or someone connected to his family really waste their time on revenge? Surely, they had bigger fish to fry, and they were stinking rich already. They had options and opportunities most people could only dream of. It would be smarter for them to simply let the matter die down and then through their PR people, they could find a spin or diversion? Lucy wanted to believe it, but her street smarts kept going back to a particular incident.
Days before she had left for Africa while still staying at a friend’s cabin on Lake Michigan, a courier had arrived. She had presumed the package was for the owner and had happily signed. When she noticed the package had her name on it, it was as if her blood had turned to ice. Nobody but Amy and her own family had known her whereabouts.
With shaking fingers she’d torn open the plastic. Inside, she’d found a small box, looking handcrafted, expensive. After lifting the lid of the box, she discovered rather bafflingly that it had simply been empty.
The sender had been listed as The Joker. It was simple and clever. No explicit threat, no sender to trace. But for Lucy, the threat was implied: we know where you are and we can find you. She had packed up her stuff within the hour, left the keys to the cabin with a trustworthy neighbor, and made her way to a drab motel. Three days later, she’d left for South Africa.
Now she was navigating the way toward Mikey’s house. She turned off the main road and headed toward a poorer part of town. The houses became smaller and the roads dustier. She pulled up outside a matchbox type of house, small but neat as a pin. A large dog barked from behind a leaning wire fence. Mikey’s mother emerged and shushed the dog.
“Thank you, miss,” said Mikey.
“You’re welcome, Mikey, and don’t forget your homework.”
“These are for you, miss.” Mikey’s mother handed Lucy a plastic bag. Inside were several prickly pears, a local fruit, spiky on the outside but juicy and pink on the inside.
“Thank you, Mrs. Smit,” said Lucy. She dropped Mikey off several times a week and every time, Mikey’s mother Sarie had a small present for her, usually these pears or sometimes vegetables from her meager garden. At first, Lucy had protested these gifts but now she accepted them graciously. Sarie Smit was a proud woman and she had made it clear she wouldn’t accept charity.
“Mikey is doing well. He’s working hard and improving.”
Sarie smiled, a rare sight. A front tooth was missing, and hard living was etched in her face. Still, she had a weary beauty about her. Sarie’s smile evaporated and she cleared her throat rather awkwardly before she ushered her son inside.
Lucy began the drive home. It was nice knowing that, unlike all those long lonely evenings she had endured, tonight, she had plans.