Chapter ten: Resignation

Tuesday, 15th July 1997

Central London

The River Thames looked lovely on this warm, sunny afternoon, Emma Morley thought. It was a work day, but Emma wasn’t at school. Teaching had finished for the term but there was a very important staff meeting happening at the school. Emma was needed there, but she didn’t really care about that. She had phoned the headteacher’s secretary that morning and told her that she was ill and had to stay in bed. The woman clearly hadn’t believed her. Emma didn’t care about that either.

Emma wasn’t really ill at all. In fact, she was feeling good. And she had been to a meeting – a meeting with a publisher. At last Emma was feeling confident about something she had written – a novel for young readers. It was about a group of children at an East London school. The children were appearing in a school production of Oliver! and the story was told by one of the actors – a girl called Julie Criscoll. Julie was a rude, angry, teenage girl with a good heart. The book was funny and touching. Emma had included silly drawings and handwritten pages in her text, so parts of it looked like a schoolgirl’s diary. She knew that what she had written was really good. And now, other people thought it was good too. Perhaps soon, she was going to be a published author.

Emma wanted to write and she wanted even more to stop teaching. She thought every day about resigning. Her job at the school had been very difficult for the last year. Phil Godaiming had been angry because she no longer wanted to sleep with him. He’d tried to make her life difficult all year. And now she knew that she could write well, Emma wanted to spend her life writing. At her meeting this morning, she had told the publisher about her ambitions. The publisher had been helpful. Emma’s life was going to change.

As she walked by the river, her mobile phone rang. Emma did now have a mobile. Dexter had been right after all. Phil had given it to her during the months when they’d been close. ‘I want to be able to hear your voice at any time,’ he’d told her. As she took the phone from her handbag, Emma guessed that it was Phil phoning her now. She wasn’t wrong.

‘So, you’re ill in bed, are you?’ he said in his special loud, angry headteacher’s voice. ‘Well, I don’t believe it. I think you’re outside, enjoying the sunshine. I can hear the traffic noise.’

‘Don’t shout at me, Phil,’ Emma said quietly.

‘My name’s Mr Godaiming, not Phil,’ the man replied. ‘This is serious, you know that. I told you that today’s meeting was a very important one. There’ll be trouble about this, Emma. And if you don’t want a relationship with me, I won’t protect you from trouble. Your job is in danger.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ Emma replied, laughing. ‘I’m resigning from my job – now! Do you understand? I’ve resigned! Goodbye, Mr Godaiming.’

She switched off her phone and for a moment, she thought about throwing it into the river. But after a few seconds, she put it back in her bag.