The Keeper

Miss Staverly Knows

When Martha went to her art lesson, she was surprised to find Miss Staverly beside the teacher's desk.

"Hello, girls. Mr Finlay is off sick. I'm sure you all have coursework to be getting on with, so please do so. I'll be in the next classroom and I don't expect you to have any problems, but if you do, come in and interrupt me."

No way would they do that, thought Martha as she got out her paints. She wondered what was wrong with Dean.

The following Tuesday, a substitute teacher was at the front of the room. Now Martha was worried. When the bell rang, she went to the Post and felt for a letter. Nothing.

That afternoon, she was called into Miss Staverly's office.

"Come in, Martha. Take a seat."

Martha sat down in front of the headteacher.

"I see from your reports that you are doing well in your subjects."

Martha said nothing. It was better to say nothing and find out what she was here for.

Miss Staverly continued. "Art appears to be a particular talent of yours."

"Yes, Miss."

"I hope the disruption caused by Mr Finlay's leaving won't affect your performance in the upcoming exams."

"No, Miss." Martha waited, but Miss Staverly didn't volunteer more information. She was desperate to know and had to ask. "Why has Mr Finlay left?"

"I think you know why," said Miss Staverly, looking at Martha over her reading glasses.

A wave of sickness washed over Martha, but she tried not to give anything away and kept her silence this time. She stared back, willing Miss Staverly to tell her more, but she was clearly finished with the business.

"So, can I have your assurance you'll focus on your schoolwork, Martha?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Good. Leave the door open on your way out."

There was half an hour left of her last class, but Martha couldn't go back there, not yet. She slipped out of the back door, across the playing field and out to the next field over. Far enough away to think. Dropping her backpack, she slumped to the ground and thought about what had happened. Her first thought was to contact Dean, but he had been careful never to tell her where he lived, or what his phone number was, "In case they torture you when you're captured," he had joked. Well, they had caught them both now, and she was being tortured. If he wasn't at school, his wife must know what was happening. But it appeared no one else knew. Miss Staverly would be sure to keep it that way, not wanting to mar the reputation of the school.

So where did that leave Martha? Dumped by a married man whose wife had found out? How stupid she had been to think that this could go on forever. Martha brushed away the tears and picked up her bag to head into town to get an early bus home.

Despite her anger, Martha kept checking the Post every day. Partly it was habit, but mostly it was because she clung on to a sliver of hope. Hope that was rewarded at the end of the week. There was a tightly taped plastic bag there. Ripping it open, she found the letter she yearned for.