They’d reached the main road leading into the town. Huge fish lorries swept past them, their tyres raising a thin spray from the wet ground.
‘But what are you going to say to him?’ Barry asked.
‘Well, Barry, we need to get this straight – do you want to be at school?’
He was silent for a moment. ‘Yeah,’ he said.
‘’Cause you probably think you don’t need it – that you’ll always be OK, that your father will look after you, that he’ll sort you out with a job. But you’ll not be much use to anyone without some qualification. And if you want to spend the rest of your life stuck in this town, you’re going the right way about it. So are you sure that you want to be at school, Barry, because you don’t sound very sure?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘OK, well, can you sound a bit more convincing when we talk to Master O’Connor?’
‘I said I want to be here.’
As they walked up the school steps, groups of students began whispering and turning their heads to get a look at them.
‘And you may start practising your apology now,’ she said, ‘because you might have to do some grovelling and you’ll have to at least look like you mean it. Do you hear me?’
‘I hear you.’
‘Well, what are you going to say to him?’
She pushed through the heavy glass doors.
‘I’ll tell him that I’m sorry and that I’ll apologise to Mrs Frawley and that I’ll keep my head down and I won’t cause any more trouble if he’ll just give me one more chance.’
‘No. Don’t start mentioning anything about chances or ultimatums – you’ll be in trouble again next week and you don’t want him using that against you. Say you’re sorry and you’ve been having a hard time, and turn on the bloody waterworks if you need to, Barry.’
The corridor was lined with students idling by their lockers.
‘Where’s his office?’
‘Up the stairs and at the end of the hall.’
She stomped up the stairs and followed the corridor to a door with “Principal” marked on it. She knocked, and when there was no response, she walked straight in, with Barry trailing behind. The room was small and windowless, with breeze-block walls painted white. Master O’Connor looked up from his desk and did not have time to disguise the look of annoyance on his face before he recognised Izzy. He had a sandwich in one hand and with the other he dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin. He placed the sandwich back in its Tupperware.
‘Mrs Keaveney,’ he said, still chewing. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I found this fellow wandering the streets,’ she said. ‘I thought you might appreciate his safe return.’
He kept looking past her at Barry. ‘Last time I checked, Izzy, you didn’t have any children at this school.’
She chose to ignore this.
‘And Mr Crowley,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think I was going to see you again today.’
Izzy took a seat. Barry stood beside her looking at the floor and grasping the straps of his school bag.
Master O’Connor clasped his hands together on the desk in front of him. ‘Did Barry tell you why he was sent home today, Izzy?’
‘He did indeed, and it seems to me that insulting Mrs Frawley, although very rude, is a minor misdemeanour that can be easily forgiven. And Barry promises to not only give a full apology to Mrs Frawley but to yourself.’
She shook Barry’s elbow.
‘I’m sorry, Master O’Connor,’ he said, with so little conviction that Izzy wanted to shake him again.
‘That’s as may be, Izzy, but what Barry might not have told you is about the numerous times he has disrupted classes and other pupils’ education, the numerous times he has skipped class or not done his homework or not bothered showing up for school at all. You probably don’t know about the insults he has launched at other teachers, besides Mrs Frawley, and has Barry mentioned the damage he did to the science classroom last year? I’m sorry, Mrs Keaveney. We have done every single thing we can for Barry and I’m afraid we’ve come to the end of what is possible to achieve with him here at this school.’
‘Barry has had a difficult year and you’re telling me that you’re not even going to try and help this boy—’
‘These problems began with Barry a long time ago.’
‘And you’re just going to give up on him?’
‘We’ve done a lot to try and help Barry.’
He was so tired-looking, she thought, that waxy skin and such deep lines scoring his forehead. His fingers were yellow from smoking. The headmaster of a school, she thought he could make more of an effort, sitting there in his short-sleeved shirt – no wonder the kids had so little respect for him. ‘Stand outside, Barry,’ Izzy said, and Barry shuffled off into the corridor. ‘And shut that door behind you!’ She listened out for the click of the door closing. ‘Now, listen here to me—’
‘No. You listen to me, Mrs Keaveney—’
‘Are you not even going to speak to the boy’s father before you suspend him?’
‘I’m afraid we’re looking at expulsion at this point, Mrs Keaveney. But I shouldn’t be talking to you about this and if you don’t mind me saying it has very little to do with you.’
‘But when do you plan on telling his father? Have you even phoned him?’
‘His father has been phoned and he has been invited to come in and have a full discussion about this.’
