The Wonderground

39 - Expelled

"But most of all, do you realise how much worry you caused us all?" she said, her voice cracking as she spoke, staring intently at her only daughter. Isla's heart crumpled in her chest.

Isla broke the silence. "Mum..."

"It is Mrs. Marney in this office," croaked her mother, regaining some composure. "No exceptions."

Isla's head dropped.

Charlie stepped forwards. "Please, Mrs. Marney," he implored. "Punish me all you want," he continued. "It was all my idea. Let the others go."

She ignored him and removed a single typed sheet of white A4 paper from the top drawer of her desk. She shook her head and sighed. "I met with the Board of Governors early this morning to agree your fates." She said the word 'agree' as if her input to the meeting had been disregarded.

"Song," she declared, without looking up from the page. Rose instinctively stepped towards the desk and removed her Seattle Mariners baseball cap. "Evidently, it would be politically indelicate to expel the child of an ambassadorial figure serving in the UK." She paused, clearly irritated.

"Wilson," she announced next. "It would appear that money talks. The Board fears that the sizeable donation made to the school's arts foundation by your parents at the beginning of term would be withdrawn if you were no longer a pupil here."

"McIlroy," she continued. "Your family's association with this school is well documented," she stated. "Is it ten generations that have studied here?"

"Thirteen," replied Amelia, feeling the guilt cloy at the back of her throat. "There was a McIlroy in the first class of 1606." She hung her head in shame.

"Indeed," responded the headteacher, examining her over her tortoiseshell frames. "Quite the legacy," she muttered. "Until now," she added unkindly. "I had the 'fortune' to meet your grandmother this morning," she revealed. "Blankrook's former star pupil who, conveniently for you, chairs the Board of Governors...," she trailed off, feeling no explanation was necessary.

"Wood," resumed Mrs. Marney. "Without wishing to dredge up awful memories of your personal tragedy, I have been made aware of the unique circumstances by which you came to Blankrook School. I will not be the headteacher who abandons an orphan and throws you out like a piece of rubbish."

"Thank you," managed Charlie.

"Four weeks suspension from all extra-curricular activities for each of you. Your phones and laptops will be confiscated for the same period. You will remain within the school grounds at all times and surrender your right to any visitors from outside the school for the rest of this academic term."

The four nodded silently and complicitly.

Mrs. Marney added, "Amelia, you will also be stripped of your captaincies of the gymnastics squad, swimming team, judo, archery and fencing clubs."

Amelia looked disconsolate. Everyone knew how much the school clubs meant to her.

"Mr. Porter will expect each of you at his cottage after final period, every day, between now and Christmas. You will litter pick, clean toilets, wash windows and paint classrooms until this school is as squeaky clean as I expect all of you to be from now on."

The headteacher paused before taking up the sheet of paper again. "Which brings me to Blake," she spoke, with resignation. "Unfortunately...," she started to say, before Elliot interrupted her.

"Unfortunately, I don't have any rich or influential relatives," began Elliot. "Or dead ones," he added. "Sorry, Charlie," he whispered to his friend.

Charlie offered a sad smile.

"I only have a scholarship," he said meekly.

"Which has been revoked by the Board," informed Mrs. Marney with a sigh. "You are expelled from Blankrook School with immediate effect."

Elliot nodded quietly and closed his eyes. He did not want to cry in front of the others.

"Your father will be contacted. He can collect you tomorrow," she advised him. "You can have this evening to say goodbye to your friends and pack your bags."

Charlie opened his mouth to protest on behalf of his friend but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Mrs. Marney ignored it.

"Marney," she said sternly, refusing to use her daughter's first name or look her directly in the eye.

The knocking sound filled the room again. This time it was louder, more insistent.

Mrs. Marney snorted with irritation. "What is it?" she barked. The door opened and Alex's head popped through the gap. He gave profuse apologies for disturbing her but said it was a matter of the utmost importance for which he could not afford to delay. The headteacher could not possibly imagine what could be so important but allowed Alex to continue.

"There are two people waiting outside," he said excitedly. "They've come to make a donation to the school."

Lisa Marney sighed. She knew Alex meant well but could really do without the interruption right now. "You know the protocols. Ask them to fill in the form."

"Yes, but Mrs. Marney," insisted Alex. "The thing is..."

The headteacher was losing her patience.

Her assistant pranced around the desk and stooped to speak in her ear. "It's the donation, ma'am," whispered Alex. "Ten... million..." He quivered as he heard the words out loud.

Lisa Marney dropped her pen. And her jaw. Her spine was tingling and her heart was beating out of her chest. She dismissed Alex from the room with the task of buying biscuits. Lots of biscuits. Chocolate ones at the very least. She breathed in and out deeply three times with her eyes closed before addressing the children. "You need to wait outside," she instructed. "An urgent school matter has arisen." She ushered them towards the door impatiently and directed them to sit back in the turquoise plastic seats. "Do not move from those chairs."

Elliot tentatively raised his hand.

"Yes, Elliot," she sighed. "You may move to go to the toilet." She slammed the door behind them.

Elliot scampered in the direction of the boys' toilet and the others trudged down the corridor to sit. However, the seats were occupied by two odd looking characters. They looked uncomfortable. The first was a well-built man with a peculiar, curled moustache that was perched awkwardly on his top lip. He was dressed in an ill-fitting three-piece suit and Tweed deerstalker hat. He sported a monocle and a walking cane. His boots were old, scuffed and dirty, and betrayed the rest of his smart costume.

Charlie was the first to recognise the face behind the terrible disguise. "Casus!" he exclaimed.