Blake was only twelve when Eddy had the affair, and spent a lot of time with Rosie and Seb in the days when Eddy was banned from going home. Seb talked to Blake about it because Eddy was in too much of a state himself. God, it would feel good to agree with his godson.
Instead, he nods and shrugs his shoulders, hoping to show that he gets it but that he’s not the person Blake should be asking.
Blake pauses again, his voice softer, before saying, ‘Do you think you and Dad will be friends again?’
Seb breathes out; his thoughts blur. They were like brothers growing up, but that’s over. They’re fully grown now. Seb doesn’t want to spend any more of his adult years trying to keep his childhood alive. They’ve been trying too hard for too long. The old jokes just aren’t funny any more and the old ways of coping no longer work. Ignoring those changes kept them ignorant. Now, there’s no turning away, no denying it. It’s time to accept they’ve grown up and grown apart.
Seb answers quietly, truthfully, ‘I don’t know.’
There’s a gentle knock at the door and Seb wants to tell Mrs Greene that he’ll talk to her later, that his godson is more important. But Blake’s already unfurling his long limbs, ready to go. Seb’s about to put his hand on Blake’s shoulder but he doesn’t get that far because suddenly Blake reaches for him and, pulling him close, they hug, chest to chest. And over his godson’s shoulder, Seb’s eyes burn again, because he thinks that whatever else they’ve fucked up, Eddy and Anna, they made this beautiful human and that counts for more than anything else.
Less than a minute after Blake leaves, Harriet walks in, stiff and upright as the rulebook she seems to have swallowed.
She tells Seb that the petition and ‘more than a few’ complaints have been officially presented to the governors. They want to avoid a tribunal, but there is pressure, immense pressure, Harriet tells him, from the parents; they want to be involved in the decision about Seb’s future. ‘You see, they feel you involved them with your assembly, and I rather take their point. It feels incorrect to sideline them now.’ She sniffs and blinks blue-veined eyelids over blue eyes.
‘What are you suggesting – some kind of parent forum?’
‘Precisely,’ she says, unable to meet his eye. ‘We’ve taken advice from the local council and we’re going to invite parents to present their views publicly, and then us governors will have a separate, closed meeting – according to the school constitution – when we will decide whether your employment here is still in the best interest of the school or not.’ She glances at him quickly before looking away. ‘As time is of the essence, Mrs Greene will send out an email informing parents as soon as possible. It’ll be held on Monday afternoon, after school. We’ll have the governors’ meeting later in the week and then present you with our final decision.’
The parent forum is unexpected, especially so soon, but everything else is as he thought it would be, even down to the way Harriet looks: tight-lipped and frowning, never once straying from her script.
By four p.m. the school is relatively quiet. Seb calls Rosie, but there’s no answer. He aches to be with her, with his own kids, but he can’t ignore it any more, he knows he has to do it eventually. He sits and picks up his work phone; he hasn’t looked at his emails since Anna’s radio performance earlier and as he opens his inbox his teeth clench together and his jaw immediately aches.
There are over a hundred emails waiting for him. Most of the subject lines are written in screaming capitals, many with exclamation marks – one is simply titled, ‘SHAME!’ He knows he should open them methodically one after the other but instead he clicks, almost greedy, trying to move quicker than the acid he can feel rising up in a wave from his stomach, heading for his throat.
Dear Sebastian Kent,
My daughter, Ada Barton, will never again attend Waverly Community while you are head teacher …
The next contains a link to testimonies from women coerced into prostitution, men paying their traffickers to rape them.
You exploit these women’s desperation so you can abuse their bodies. Let’s hope this doesn’t happen to your own daughters, you disgusting man.
The next is a porn clip, the photo of Seb from the school website grinning, stuck on top of the male actor’s face as he has sex from behind with a bored-looking woman filing her nails.
There’s one from a group called Men Stand Strong! telling him he should be proud of himself, that wives should provide sex for their husbands – isn’t ‘with my body I thee worship’ in the marriage vows after all?
There are a few from email accounts Seb doesn’t recognize, each one progressively worse than the last.
Do your kids a favour, Mr Kent, get rid of yourself. Sooner the better.
I hope you never see your own children again, you sick fuck.
Me and my mates are coming to arse rape you until you die. Ha, ha, ha!