How to be a Good Veronica. Michael K Freundt
had reused the tea bag and she wanted a fresh one but saying so would’ve put her off Jack’s side and she wanted firmly to be on Jack’s side, if only to be not on this woman’s side.
“It wasn’t a fight,” said Jack resenting having to say it again. “It was an argument.”
“That’s not what Ms. Brooksbank said, Jack,” countered Mrs. Verlarny.
“Ms. Brooksbank didn’t see anything, she just heard it and made a mistake,” said Jack as he took his seat again.
“Jack, are you saying Ms. Brooksbank is lying?” asked Mrs. Verlarny as she turned her head accusingly in Jack’s direction. Veronica felt a strong urge to slap this woman. It wouldn’t be the last.
“She didn’t see. She wasn’t there. She was around the corner and came to see what all the shouting was about.”
“And, darling, what was all the shouting about?” said Veronica having now sized up the situation and knew exactly how to handle this.
Jack looked at his mother quizzically, she rarely called him ‘darling.’
“I asked her about her plait. I wanted to know why she always wore her hair like that. I thought it was interesting. But I suppose I used the wrong words, or something, because she got upset about what I meant. I dunno. I was just asking.”
“But, Ms. Brooksbank was very sure.....” began Mrs. Verlarny.
“Ms. Verlarny, please,” interrupted Veronica as she held one finger up in front of Mrs. Verlarny’s, now, rather stern face. “Just one moment.”
“Jack, do you like Cinnamon Carmody?”
Jack hung his head a little as she could see his ears redden. “...yes,” he said shyly, “I would never hit her.”
“Does Cinnamon like you?”
Jack looked up sharply at her and his face flushed red. “I dunno. Not any more I think.”
“But I think we have to listen to all......”
“Right,” interrupted Veronica with a knowing smile. “I think it’s pretty clear what has happened here. I’ll have a talk to Jack and I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Well, I’ve actually spoken to Cinnamon’s father. She also comes from a broke ... a single-parent household and he’s available for a meeting late tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh, really?” said Veronica unable to take all the growing anger out of her voice. “Is that completely necessary?”
“He was very upset to hear what happened?”
“And I suppose you told him what you thought had happened?”
“I told him what happened because I was told what happened.”
“So you spoke to her father but not to me? That’s funny; I’m sure my mobile number’s on file at the school.”
“As I explained,” said Mrs. Verlarny as her smile became more and more fixed, and her tone less and less tolerant ,“circumstances got in the way of normal procedures.”
“I see, well....”
“Ms. Souter,” said Mrs. Verlarny with a more serious tone, “do you think we could speak in private for a moment?”
“Certainly!” said Veronica over-enthusiastically. “I’ll walk you to the door.” Veronica lifted the woman’s bag from the nearby armchair and draped it over her sloping shoulder. This wasn’t what Mrs. Verlarny expected, Veronica knew, but with her hand gently in the small of her visitor’s back she guided the woman down the hallway. Jack understood that he was meant to stay where he was.
“I don’t think we have a resolution to this as yet,” said Mrs. Verlarny.
“Oh, I think we’re pretty close.”
“So, will you be able to make the meeting tomorrow?” Veronica felt the woman’s resistance through her hand on her spine.
“Let’s see,” said Veronica in her best patronising tone. “Give me your card and I’ll call you in the morning. As you may know, or maybe not, I’m a freelance clinical psychologist so I may have to re-arrange a few appointments. I’ll let you know. OK?” Despite the woman’s resistance they were now at the front door.
Mrs. Verlarny had obviously accepted defeat. “Fine,” she said as she opened her bag and rummaged for a card. “Here's my card. I’ll expect your call then?”
“Good, you do that,” said Veronica, her body almost forcing Mrs. Verlarny out onto the verandah.
“One more thing, Ms. Souter,” said Mrs. Verlarny turning to face Veronica. The look on the woman’s face reflected a mixture of duty, because of her mission; anger, due to Veronica’s obvious patronising tone; and distaste because duty was the stronger. “I’d be neglecting my duty if I didn’t ask this: does Jack often arrive home to an empty house?” And as Veronica was quickly working out how a slap in the face might go down with the school authorities, fate stepped in, just like in a Woody Allen movie, as Veronica saw Rosemary walking towards them through the little front garden.
“Ah,” said Veronica smiling a little too broadly, “the babysitter!”
“Sorry I’m late, Veronica,” said Rosemary coming up to them.
“That’s OK, Rosemary, I just got home myself. This is Ms. Verlarny. She’s from the school, and just leaving”
“Hi,” said Rosemary holding out her hand. “I’m Rosemary Ng.”
“Sorry?” said Mrs. Verlarny frowning as she took her hand.
“Ng,” repeated Rosemary without moving her lips and then seeing the woman’s face wracked with confusion that threatened to become embarrassment, she spelt it out. “En Gee. Ng. It’s Chinese.”
“Of course it is,” recovered Mrs. Verlarny. “Sorry.” And then to Veronica, “I’ll expect your call.”
“That, you can certainly do, Ms. Verlarny.”
Mrs. Verlarny seemed, all of a sudden, racked with yet another distasteful decision. “Look, erm. Sorry, but it’s always best, I find, to get things like this over in the first meeting. I’d like you to call me Daphne but I understand – I understand fully, really! – if you choose not to; separation of responsibilities and all that, but if you choose not to call me Daphne, but contrary to popular usage, I’m married you see, and not ashamed of it - I’m rather proud of the fact actually,” she gave a little hollow laugh, “so I prefer “Mrs” to “Ms” if you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all,” said Veronica with a very friendly smile. “It makes everything so much clearer, Mrs. Verlarny,” said Veronica not caring a hoot if the sarcasm in her voice was noted or not.
“Yes, I think so. I always opt for words with the greatest linguistic weight.”
“How audacious of you!”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Verlarny not sure what Veronica meant so she said, “Bye” and then raced across the little garden, out the gate and across the street - avoiding a barking dog who obviously thought she was running away from something - and to her car.
“Bye,” called Veronica. Nice dog .
“Bye,” called Rosemary. “Did I arrive too late or in the nick of time?” asked Rosemary with a careful smile.
“Rosemary, your timing was perfect,” said Veronica. “Come inside for a chat,” but it was halfway down the hall that Veronica remembered. “Oh, Rosemary, I’m sorry, but I don’t need you today, my appointment’s been cancelled. I’ll pay you of course. I just forgot to call you.”
“No no, don’t worry, Ms. Souter” said Rosemary