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Chapter 1: Mrs. Robinson
November 8, 1998.

Nearing the end of a long Friday at the Wychwood Academy, my secretary Janice pops her head in my office door. "Mrs. Robinson is here to see you, Sir."

Damn! Normally, I wouldn't forget an appointment with a parent. But I've been preoccupied putting the finishing touches on this evening's speech to the Eastern Counties Headmaster's Association. As the youngest private-school Head in the region, I was honoured to be asked to give the after-dinner speech to our Association's annual meeting. I've been working hard on it for weeks. Now, as I polish the final draft, I've completely forgotten about the appointment I had arranged with Mrs. Robinson after suspending her son for a week. "Tell her I'll be with her shortly, Janice. Then bring me Tim Robinson's file."

My efficient secretary has it on my desk in a minute. I leaf through the thick folder littered with Misconduct Reports, familiarizing myself once again with the wretched details. Anticipating yet another parent whining about the school's unjust treatment of her poor misunderstood child, I note that there is plenty of misbehaviour here that would have warranted the boy's suspension a month ago.

Tim Robinson, frankly, is a pain in the ass. I've no idea what's going on at home, but the boy strikes me as a good kid, spoiled rotten by wealthy parents. I would speculate that they compensate for their failure to give him enough attention by buying him all the latest high-tech gadgetry. When Madame Poli, his French teacher, caught him chatting with his girlfriend on his cell phone, she made him come to the front of the class and converse aloud with her in French. Timothy didn't appreciate being embarrassed in that way, so he turned on his heel and stomped out.

From the classroom to the office, it's the same story. The boy refuses to obey the school's rules or accept our discipline for flaunting them. He exudes a sullen arrogance that makes him toxic in a school where students normally evince a cheerful attitude and a modicum of respect for authority. When he was sent down to see me on Wednesday, I told him to sit on the bench outside my office to give him time to reflect on his behaviour. After a couple of minutes, Tim had the gall to open my door and say, "Can you see me now, Sir? You don't look real busy, and I've been cooling my heels out here for ages." That's when I invited him into my office while calling home to set up an appointment with his mother.

---oOo---
"Alright Janice. Show Mrs. Robinson in now."

A moment later, she appears in my office doorway. "Doctor Hill, I presume?"

"Yes," I smile, looking up from my desk.

"Margaret Anne Robinson reporting to the Headmaster's office. Am I in big trouble, Sir?" she laughs, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.