‘Victoria! I can’t believe you said that. You know a lot better than that,’ Miss Hiff said sharply.
‘But, Miss Hiff, I—’
‘No buts, Victoria. I can’t imagine what you were thinking of. This was a maths exam, not a test of computational deviousness. Not that I would have approved of your methods in the latter case. Did you really think we wouldn’t catch you?’ Miss Hiff leaned even further forward over her desk. Her brown eyes glinted like marbles.
‘No … yes … I mean …’ I didn’t know what I meant. ‘I guess I didn’t really think about it … really … I thought I was being clever …’
‘Clever! Do you realize that at the very least I’m going to have to suspend you?’ Miss Hiff asked.
I felt like I’d been hit in the stomach. I stared at her so hard I’m surprised my eyes didn’t pop out of my head and plop on to the carpet.
‘Suspend …? You’re joking,’ I whispered.
‘Do I look like I’m joking?’ Miss Hiff said stonily. ‘This is very serious, Victoria, very serious indeed. You cheated to get the answers to your maths exam and not only that but you were disgracefully rude with it. I would never have thought it of you. I have your mother’s phone number at work, so I’ll give her a call and ask her to come and see me …’
‘NO! No, you can’t. You can’t phone Mum.’ I didn’t mean to shout but I could feel myself beginning to panic. Mum and Dad … What on earth would they say about all this? And how was I rude? How was it rude to use a calculator?
‘And why not?’ Miss Hiff asked.
I took a quick look at Mrs Bracken who stood beside me, shaking her head down at me. I could just hear ‘the youth of today’ or one of her other soppy phrases rattling around in her head. I turned back to the headmistress. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be suspended for using my calculator. Was this fair or what?
‘M-mum is … she isn’t well,’ I said reluctantly.
‘Oh? What’s wrong with her?’ asked Miss Hiff.
I swallowed hard. This was horrible. Now I’d have to talk about private family stuff.
‘Mum … Mum’s six months pregnant. And she’s not very well. She has high blood pressure and she’s only just been let out of hospital. Her doctor said she’s got to take it easy and she mustn’t get upset.’
Every part of Miss Hiff’s face seemed to be frowning. Her lips were turned down, her eyes were turned down, even the many lines on her forehead bent down at the ends.
‘Very well then. I shall phone your father,’ Miss Hiff said.
‘Oh, couldn’t you call him on Monday?’ I pleaded. ‘Friday is his busiest day at the bank.’
‘I can’t help that,’ Miss Hiff said firmly. ‘Mrs Bracken, would you get Mr Gibson’s work number from the school secretary.’
If she ran any faster, she’d take off! I thought as Mrs Bracken fairly sprinted from the room.
‘Vicky, now that we’re alone is there anything you’d like to tell me before I phone your father?’ asked Miss Hiff.
Like what? I thought.
‘No.’ I shook my head.
‘Is everything OK at home?’ Miss Hiff asked gently.
My face felt like it was on fire. I knew what she was getting at. Did my parents quarrel or did my mum throw saucepans at my dad or me or something equally ridiculous. I got on fine with Mum and Dad. In fact, Dad and I spent a lot of time together. He was the one who got me interested in computing in the first place and he was teaching me all about the computer system at his bank. And if Gib and I had the occasional quarrel, so what? All brothers and sisters argue sometimes.
‘Vicky?’ Miss Hiff prompted.
‘Everything’s fine, miss,’ I said. I was so embarrassed I just wanted to crawl under Miss Hiff’s table.
‘Then why did you do it? I’m at a loss to understand …’
‘Here we are, Miss Hiff.’ Mrs Bracken walked back into the office, closing the door behind her. ‘This is Victoria’s card.’
A small index card was handed to the headmistress. She picked up the phone and dialled. I tried to read what was on it but it was too far away and upside down at that.
‘Ah, good morning,’ Miss Hiff said almost immediately, ‘I’d like to speak to Mr David Gibson, please.’
There was a pause and then the headmistress repeated her request.
‘Yes, that’s right – Mr Gibson … Oh, I see … Oh, I see … no, I’m the headmistress of Boroughvale School … I wanted to talk to him about his daughter … Oh, I see … All right then. Thank you for your help.’ Miss Hiff put the phone down. She was frowning even more now.
‘Your father’s not there and he won’t be back today,’ Miss Hiff explained.
It was my turn to frown now. Dad was always at the bank on Fridays. If he wasn’t there, then where was he?
‘It seems as if I’m destined not to speak to either of your parents today, but I want to see your father early next week without fail. Wait outside whilst I write a letter to him and your mother.’
Mrs Bracken ushered me outside. I racked my brains for something to say that would sort all this out, but there was nothing in my head and nothing in my mouth. The story of my life! All I could think about was what Mum and Dad would say. I’d never been in trouble at school before. That was usually Gib’s department. Mum and Dad were always saying to him, ‘Why can’t you be more like your sister?’
As I stood outside Miss Hiff’s office, I realized I’d never hear Mum and Dad ask that particular question again.
Suspended.
Even Gib had never been suspended. He’d never even come close and he was always getting into trouble. And now I’d outdone him – in one fell swoop. But that wasn’t the worst of it.
What were Mum and Dad going to say?
‘Vicky! Vicky, wait for me!’
Stupidly, I turned my head to see Gib legging it after me, his jacket off his shoulders and his school bag waving about all over the place as he ran. I carried on walking even faster. Gib was the last person I wanted to speak to.
‘Didn’t you hear me calling you?’ Gib puffed angrily once he’d caught up with me.
‘What do you want?’ I snapped.
‘I want to make sure you’re all right,’ Gib said.
I stopped walking and looked him straight in the eye at that.
‘Do I look like I’m stupid? Don’t answer that!’ I said quickly as Gib opened his mouth to reply. ‘You just want to know what Whiffy Hiffy said to me – nosy git-bag!’
Gib started to smile. ‘Well, you can’t blame me. So what did Miss Hiff say?’ The smile on his face was getting bigger and bigger.
‘None of your business,’ I replied. I started walking again.
‘Oh, go on. I won’t tell anyone,’ Gib cajoled.
‘Don’t be so bloomin’ nosy,’ I said, glaring at him.
‘Don’t be like that,’ Gib said, ‘I’m only asking. Did she expel you?’
‘NO, SHE DID NOT!’ I exploded. ‘At least … at least, not yet. If you must know, she asked me if I’d used my calculator to answer all the questions in the maths exam correctly. When I said yes, she went on and on about how cheating was beneath me and how I ought to be ashamed of myself. Then she made me sit outside her office for the rest of the afternoon. I didn’t cheat … at least, I didn’t realize I was cheating. I didn’t mean to cheat, unlike some people I saw whom I could mention. But Mum and Dad aren’t going to care about that. They’re both going to go through the ceiling!’
I slowed down. Walking so fast was making my legs ache. Gib fell into line next to me. We very rarely walked home together so it felt slightly strange.
‘Your calculator? I don’t understand. How can you cheat using a grotty school calculator?’ Gib said.
‘I … I used the programmable calculator Mum and Dad bought me for Christmas to answer the questions,’ I admitted. ‘I still don’t see what all the fuss is about. Just because I didn’t use one of the stupid, diddly school calculator
s.’
‘So how did you do it?’ Gib asked.
I could see he was impressed, even though he tried his best not to show it. I shrugged. ‘I wrote a program to do it for me. Then all I had to do was input the number of sides a shape had and any of the angles as given on the exam paper, or input any of the other details and get back the proper angles and areas and whatnot. It was a doddle.’
‘So Mrs Bracken told Hiffy that you used your calculator?’ Gib asked.
‘And she probably took great pleasure in doing it as well,’ I sighed.
We walked on for a while in silence. Then Gib said, ‘You didn’t help your own case much by leaning back in your chair, grinning up at the assembly hall clock. I saw you. Very subtle – I don’t think!’
‘I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known they were going to get all nuclear about it,’ I said with disgust. ‘If I was Mrs Bracken I would have been impressed with my ingenuity …’
‘Instead of which, you get accused of cheating.’ Gib’s lips twitched.
‘I’m glad one of us thinks this is funny,’ I said angrily. ‘I should have known I wouldn’t get much sympathy from you.’ I marched away from him, sorry I’d said a word.
‘Hang on, Vicky. I’m sorry. So what did happen? Did you get detention next week or what?’ Gib asked, jogging after me.
Slowly, I shook my head. ‘I wouldn’t mind if it was just detention. I wouldn’t even mind detention for the rest of the term. But … but Miss Hiff wants to see Dad on Monday and she’s talking about suspending me.’
‘Suspending you?’ Gib repeated, astounded. ‘Wow! Mum and Dad aren’t going to like that.’
‘Why don’t you do an A level in the bloomin’ obvious,’ I hissed. ‘You’d get an A star.’
‘Don’t take it out on me,’ Gib snapped back. ‘I didn’t tell you to cheat.’
‘I didn’t cheat!’ I shouted. ‘I didn’t see it as cheating for a single second.’
‘Then you’d better hope that Dad and Mum agree with you and see it your way and not Miss Hiff’s.’
Pushing my hand further into my jacket pocket, I fingered the envelope Miss Hiff had given me for Mum and Dad.
‘They won’t see my side of things,’ I sighed. ‘Not after they see this.’
I took out the now grubby and crumpled envelope and showed it to Gib. Miss Hiff had signed her name across the back flap of the envelope and stuck it down with at least three pieces of Sellotape. The front of the envelope had Mum and Dad’s names as well as our address typed on it.
‘Do you know what it says?’ Gib asked, turning it over in his hands.
‘I haven’t a clue. But I can guess.’
Gib nodded. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘What d’you think I should do?’ I asked.
Gib looked straight at me. ‘Open it.’
‘I can’t do that,’ I said aghast. ‘I’m in enough trouble as it is. I can’t just …’
Gib raised his hands. ‘It’s all right. I knew you wouldn’t do it. You don’t have the guts.’
‘Guts have nothing to do with it,’ I argued. ‘I’ve just as much guts as you or anyone.’
‘Then prove it. Open it.’
‘OK, genius. And just how do I stick it back down afterwards? I’ll never get Miss Hiff’s signature to line up again.’
‘Simple,’ Gib said so glibly that I wanted to chuck a bucket of ice-cold water over him. ‘You type out another envelope and put the letter in that. Mum and Dad will never know that Miss Hiff’s signature was on the back of the original.’
‘There speaks an expert,’ I said sourly.
Now, usually I would have told Gib where to go after making a suggestion like that. I’ve got a lot more common sense than he has, but he’s only a boy so what do you expect? But at that moment all I could think about was getting suspended from school and how Dad would be disappointed and how Mum would get upset, especially when she wasn’t supposed to. So I thought, if only I knew what the letter said then I could prepare them – and me – for the worst.
Gib handed the letter back to me and I held it gingerly, staring down at it. It was as if the envelope was burning my fingers and it wouldn’t stop burning my fingers until I knew what Miss Hiff had written about me.
‘I … I don’t know …’ I said, doubtfully.
‘Go on. I won’t tell. I promise,’ Gib urged.
I took a deep breath. Before I could change my mind, I tore off the left-hand piece of sticky tape and stuck my finger under the flap. I pulled it up. I told myself I couldn’t get into any worse trouble, but deep down I knew I could. It still didn’t stop me.
‘What does it say? What does it say?’ Gib said eagerly. He pulled my arm over to him.
I pulled back indignantly. ‘I think I should read it first, don’t you?’
‘Then read it to me,’ Gib said impatiently.
I didn’t really want to, but I didn’t see how it could make much difference now. Besides, Gib might tell Mum and Dad what I’d done if I didn’t tell him what was in the letter. He wasn’t usually a snitch but he could be a real pig when he didn’t get his own way.
Dear Mr and Mrs Gibson,
I deeply …
I didn’t get any further. Gib’s head was in my way where he’d moved in for a closer look.
‘You make a better door than a window,’ I said sarcastically. ‘Move your fat head!’
He glowered at me but he did move. I carried on reading.
I deeply regret to inform you that today your daughter, Victoria, was caught cheating in her end-of-term maths exam. Mrs Bracken, your daughter’s maths teacher, prepared the exam on her personal computer. Yesterday morning, when Mrs Bracken returned to her PC, she found an unseemly message – signed by ‘Hacker Supreme’ – which had been left at the top of the file containing the maths exam answers.
Today, when confronted, your daughter admitted to using her programming skills to get into this file and read the answers. I’m sure you’ll agree with me that this is a very serious matter indeed and it could well lead to Victoria’s expulsion. I am at a loss to understand what made her do it as Victoria has been, to date, an exemplary pupil. Please could you phone me or my secretary, Mrs Goater, to arrange a mutually convenient meeting at the beginning of next week.
Best wishes,
Miss Julia Hiff
‘Wow! Double wow!’ Gib breathed. ‘I thought you said you used your programmable calculator.’
‘I did,’ I squeaked.
I re-read the letter again and a third time. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was addressed to Mr and Mrs Gibson, I would have been sure that Miss Hiff had given me the wrong letter.
‘Well, when you were talking about your calculator, they were obviously talking about Mrs Bracken’s PC,’ Gib said, re-reading the letter himself.
‘What am I going to do?’ I said. ‘I can’t show this to Mum and Dad.’
‘So you’re not the person who left that message for Mrs Bracken on her PC?’ Gib asked.
‘Of course not!’ That was the closest I’d ever got to wanting to hit him. ‘I wouldn’t do something like that. I didn’t know anything about it until a minute ago.’
‘If you didn’t do it, I wonder who did?’ Gib mused.
‘That’s not the burning issue at the moment,’ I snapped. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘No problem. Just tell Mum and Dad that you misunderstood what Miss Hiff was talking about and vice versa,’ Gib said.
‘Suppose they don’t believe me?’
‘Of course they’ll believe you,’ Gib snorted. ‘Don’t they always believe everything you say?’
Something in the way he said that made me frown as I looked at him, but I let it pass.
‘What about Miss Hiff? She can still suspend me. And it’ll be for something I haven’t done,’ I said.
‘Just tell her the same thing you tell Mum and Dad. They’ll back you up.’
He made it sound so easy. I wishe
d I had his con fidence. Shaking my head, I read the letter again but the words didn’t change. I stuffed the rotten thing back in my pocket and wondered what I should do.
‘What else could possibly go wrong?’ I said fiercely.
When we got home I found out.
‘Mum, we’re home,’ Gib called out once we were inside our house. I knew something was wrong, even before Mum appeared. Usually, as soon as I set foot over the doormat, all kinds of delicious dinner smells hit me: sausages and beans and fried bananas (my favourite) or pizza or grilled fish (yuk!) – but always something. Today there was nothing at all. Mum walked into the hall from the living room, her hand resting on her bulging stomach. Her eyes looked strange. Kind of starey and hard. And Mum usually smiled at us when we got home from school, but now her lips were a thin, pursed line across her face. Even her normally neat and tidy hair looked as if she’d been running her fingers through it over and over again.
‘Mum, what’s the matter?’ I asked.
‘Come in here, you two,’ Mum sniffed. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘It’s not the baby, is it?’ Gib said. ‘Mum, you should be sitting down. You should be resting.’
‘This is more important,’ Mum said dismissively, running her fingers absent-mindedly through her hair as she led the way into the living room. Gib and I sat down on the sofa while Mum paced up and down in front of us. She kept opening and closing her mouth, but nothing was coming out. It was as if she just couldn’t find the words.
‘What is it, Mum?’ I asked anxiously.
I was so worried. I couldn’t remember when I’d ever seen Mum so upset, so close to tears. She sat down carefully in the armchair opposite us. She kept twisting her fingers over and over in her lap.
‘I’ve always been honest with you two and I’m not going to change that now,’ Mum said at last. ‘I’ve got some bad news.’
‘You’re all right, aren’t you?’ Gib asked.
‘I’m … OK. But I want you two to prepare yourselves. It … it’s your father.’
‘What about him?’ Gib said before I could. ‘He hasn’t had an accident, has he?’
‘No, dear.’ Mum took a deep breath. ‘He’s been arrested.’