31. The Lost Duvet

It’s the end of term and Daddy has come to pick me and Audrey up. This is a very rare occasion and I’m so happy. My parents are never there at the end of term, on the driveway, ready to take me home. Most of the time I fly home alone. So this is very, very special and I am beaming with joy.

Daddy is helping me manoeuvre my trunk through the doorway when Havard comes up to us.

“Good afternoon, Mr Boss,” she says, sounding overly cheery. “Good to see you.” Is this a veiled criticism? Is she also aware of how rare an event this is?

“Good afternoon Miss Havard” he replies. He is polite and slightly clipped, I can tell he doesn’t want to start a conversation.

“Mr Boss, may we have a word, in my office please?”

“Of course,” he says, sounding slightly surprised, inconvenienced and little wary too maybe.

We walk down the corridor and as we reach her office and go to follow her in, she looks at me and says to my father “Just you and I Mr Boss,” looking back at me reproachfully. I feel myself blushing and shaking slightly. What have I done now?

I’m staring at the floor when I hear Daddy reply “I am sure there is nothing you need to say that Sophie can’t hear” and he ushers me into the room in front of him confidently. I love this about my father. He won’t be told what to do when he doesn’t want to be, he won’t be pushed around. I stand tall. I feel as though I’ve suddenly grown an inch. His tone is assured and unquestionable and leaves no room for a response.  Miss Havard says nothing. I have never seen her speechless and I like it. I like it a lot.

“So, what can I do for you?” he’s saying to her as we sit down. He has taken charge of this meeting. I am enjoying this turn of events very much. I feel very important sitting next to him, across the large mahogany desk from Havard. It’s us against her.

“Well” she begins. She sounds tentative. She really didn’t expect me to be there and I can see it has thrown her.

“You see Mr Boss, Sophie has lost her duvet. This really is most irregular. Sophie does have a terrible habit of losing things. She needs to be much more tidy and careful” She sounds so scathing and disapproving. She shoots me a triumphant look as she pauses, scrutinising him, trying to read him. My father is not readable though, he can be the most inscrutable man when he wants to be. But I can feel him, I can sense his disdain, as if it’s emanating from his pores.

And then I remember about the duvet. Oh no! My stomach does a flip. I haven’t told mummy and daddy about losing my duvet yet. I’ve been too scared to tell them. It’s true. I’m always losing things. My favourite French teacher from my last school, Marymount in Paris, wrote this in my little farewell book:

A ma chère Sophie, avec l’espoir que vous ne perdrez pas un jour votre tête et tout ce qu’il y a dedans. (To my dear Sophie with the hope that you will not one day lose your head and everything that’s in it).

Not one week went by at Marymount without me losing something; school books, bags, my coat, my lunch. I was always getting into trouble. And I just couldn’t help it, however hard I tried.

I am in for it now. I have lost my duvet, how did I evert expect to hide it from Mummy and Daddy? I’m in big trouble. I stare down at my lap.

“Miss Havard” Daddy says, very slowly, pausing, looking straight at her. “How does one lose a duvet?” He sounds like a lawyer, laying a trap, he knows where he’s going and she has no idea that she is about to get caught.

“Well, precisely,” She says reassured. She thinks they are in agreement. She smiles at him conspiratorially. He doesn’t smile back.

“How does one lose a duvet?” He repeats.

“Well, you see, Mr Boss. Sophie left it in the hall when they were watching a film a few weeks ago” she begins to explain. “As a very special treat, the girls were given permission to take blankets and duvets down with them to make themselves comfortable. And when it was time for bed Sophie couldn’t find her duvet. She was sent to look for it in the hall but apparently it wasn’t there, she says she looked everywhere for it but couldn’t find it anywhere. So as you see, Mr Boss, this really is most careless”.

My father stares at her. He’s smiling slightly.

“Miss Havard,” he says. He sounds deliberate and a little patronising, his slight accent making him sound a bit like Hercule Poirot. “If Sophie left her duvet in the hall, surely it would have still been there when she went back to get it? Duvets do not move of their own accord, don’t you agree? It sounds like this duvet was taken or moved by someone maybe, not lost. It is surely not possible to lose such a thing.”

I want to stand and give him a round of applause. I am so proud to have a father who stands up for me. “Yes” I think, “You tell her”. I am trying not to grin too obviously.

She is stumped but not defeated. She is not the sort to back down. She goes in for round two.

“Well”, she says. Sophie simply does not take care of her belongings. This is not the first time, I am sure you know” Pause. They look at each other in silence.

“There’s something else we need to discuss” She looks down at me disapprovingly, she really doesn’t want me there. I sit up even straighter.

“It’s about Audrey,” she says my sister’s name as if it’s a dirty word. “I’m afraid she has been behaving very badly this term Mr Boss. She is rude to the teachers, she is defiant and disobedient. She has become quite uncontrollable” She pauses, triumphant. The word uncontrollable was a mistake.

There is a stony silence but it’s not awkward. I love it. I’m almost trembling with excitement.

“And why are you telling me this Miss Havard?” My father says, simply. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

My father does not consider it to be his job to discipline me and my sister any more than he would think it his job to pick me up at the airport. If he is here today it can only be because it suits him or fits seamlessly into his plans. He doesn’t do the dirty work of every day, that’s just not who he is. "Disciplining children like that is barbaric". I heard him say that to my mother once when he saw her hit me. His idea of dealing with bad behaviour is to ignore the problem and ignore the person. And it is pretty effective with me. There is nothing more painful to me than my father’s cold shoulder. I will do anything in my power to avoid it. His wrath is ice cold and can last for days. A compelling reason for sending us to boarding school in the first place was so that he doesn’t have to deal with this messy business of disciplining children and managing our unreasonable and illogical behaviour. Best delegate that unpleasant job to professionals.

“Well…” she says uncomfortably, this is not what she was expecting. “I really think you need to talk to her very seriously during the holidays. This behaviour cannot be allowed to continue. Her teachers won’t stand for it.”

“I understand” he says this cold and calmly, nodding slowly. “I can see we have a problem. I will find another school for Audrey.

“No, no, Mr Boss. That’s not at all what I meant” She sounds almost panicky. “I think a strong word from you will set her straight”.

“Making sure that she behaves herself here is your job Miss Havard, not mine. If you cannot do the job, if you cannot control her, I will find a school that can”.

He stands up and extends his hand. “Good afternoon Miss Havard”, he says.

Silently she shakes his hand. She looks stunned. She is well and truly beaten. This is not what she had anticipated at all. She is not looking at me. As we both walk out of her office, he squeezes my shoulder. We say nothing. In that moment I love him fiercely.

********************************

My father taught me to speak my mind. He taught me not to be intimidated by people in power. It took me years to put his teaching into practice but it was there, a seed planted by his example. I think for many years I thought only men had the power to live with that degree of self assurance. Fortunately I discovered feminism. I am so grateful to my father for how he stood by me and my sister. I think he did it more beacuse he honestly thought Miss Havard's agruments were weak and unreasonable, not our of any unwavering loyalty to his chidlren. Neverthless he was undaunted by her authority and would not let her push him around.