reread and reply to this e-mail she’d just got. She said shortly, “Oh, come on, Mrs. McGregor. You know what I mean. Fuck, bum, willy, vag. And…” She paused, realizing what she’d just said. “Er. Well, we used to, anyway. That sort of thing.”
Mrs. McGregor was silent. Then she said, “Well, I must say. Honestly, Laura.”
“It’s an illustration,” said Laura briskly, marshaling all her inner resources and kicking herself ferociously on the ankle, while her coworkers Nasrin and Shana gaped openmouthed at her and started laughing. Laura flapped her arms at them to shut them up, and said, with what she hoped was an air of finality in her voice, “I’m sure if Marcus Sussman used inappropriate language, he was doing so to try to communicate with them. But I totally understand what you mean, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Mrs. McGregor droned on, but Laura didn’t listen, only vaguely registering she had to get rid of her, reply to this e-mail.
“…have to speak to Rachel about this, Laura, yes, I will. Nasty man. Smooth young prat with cuff links who thinks he can treat these kids like dirt because he went to university and they didn’t. It’s vile. And I’m surprised at you for not seeing it.”
“Fine,” Laura said, finally losing her patience. “Talk to Rachel, but I’m surprised you’re being so blinkered. I always knew you were an inverted snob, but I didn’t think you’d let it derail the volunteer program like this.”
“Oh!” Mrs. McGregor inhaled sharply. “Laura Foster. You’ll regret this, I promise you. Yes, you will.” And she slammed the phone down.
“Laura!” said Shana, her eyes sparkling with the unexpected office excitement. “Fuck, bum, willy, vag? What the hell…?”
Laura put her head in her hands and moaned softly to herself.
“It was brilliant,” said Shana joyfully. “Best thing I’ve heard in ages.”
“Oh dear,” said Laura, finally looking up at Nasrin, who put her magazine down and gazed at her. “St. Catherine’s again. Mrs. McGregor. Stupid old bitch, I hate her,” she said defiantly. “I’m going to get in trouble, aren’t I?”
“She always makes a fuss, every year,” Nasrin said placidly, picking up Pick Me Up again. “Rachel knows that, don’t worry. She’s just a sad old rebel without a cause.”
Laura turned back to her e-mail. Now that she was free to read it properly, she didn’t want to. Mrs. McGregor had spoiled her afternoon.
A holiday is a great idea. You and me, nothing else. Imagine what we could do all week. Why don’t you start thinking about where to go. July is best for me, by then everything’ll be sorted. We can celebrate properly. I want you.
Dxx
And the rest of the day passed much more pleasantly than she’d expected.
The next day it was still raining, and Mrs. McGregor wrote a letter of complaint about Laura to the local education authority. She faxed it to Laura’s boss, Rachel, who gave her a formal warning. She had no choice, she said, looking firmly at Laura, who still wondered what all the fuss was about. Marcus Sussman was a bit hearty over the phone, but he seemed to be a nice man; all he’d done was tell a kid who called him a fucking cunt to shut the fuck up—well, was that so bad? No, not in her book.
“I won’t say I’m not disappointed,” said Rachel, leaning over her desk toward Laura. “I thought that was one of your strengths, people management. You’ve always been so good at it, Laura. They love you at St. Catherine’s, too. What happened?”
Laura looked at her and felt tears start in her eyes. She was being stupid, she knew it, behaving so irresponsibly, but she didn’t know how to start to explain. So she just said, “Oh, you know. I just—she really was so vile. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’m really sorry, Rachel. You know it won’t happen again. Can I ring Mrs. McGregor and apologize?”
Rachel smiled at her, slightly more warmly