‘No. She isn’t okay. She’s completely traumatised. There was blood everywhere.’
‘I’m so, so, sorry. Eva is devastated about what happened. She never meant to—’
‘Look, I’d really rather not talk to you right now, Gemma. It’s been a really stressful day. So if you could just… leave me alone, I’d be grateful.’ She puts a hand to her forehead and turns her back, leaving me on the outside of her circle. Everyone else’s gaze slides away and I have no choice but to leave them all to gossip. The caretaker comes to unlock the gates and we all move into the playground. Suri is deep in conversation with one of the other mums and I don’t want to interrupt them, so I stand on the other side today, staring resolutely ahead. I wonder what will happen when Eva returns to school next week. Will her friends give her the silent treatment too?
I can’t let that happen. I have to make things right with Rebecca. I take a deep breath and cross back over to her group, feeling more determined this time. Clarissa nudges her and Rebecca turns to me, her jaw clenched. Without preamble, I launch straight into an apology that I hope will appease her. That I hope will make it easier for Eva when she returns to school.
‘I just want you to know that both Eva and I are truly sorry about what happened. She’s absolutely mortified and really wants to apologise to Lauren. We both value your friendship so much. What can we do to make things right?’
Rebecca’s stern expression doesn’t falter. Everyone else has turned away slightly, pretending not to listen, but they can obviously hear my grovelling apology. I’m not sure what else I can do or say.
‘We really are sorry,’ I repeat.
‘It was such a shock,’ Rebecca replies, touching her fingers to her cheek, multicoloured bracelets jangling. ‘For someone to be so violent towards Lauren. You never imagine this sort of thing will happen to your child. Look, Gemma, I was thinking, you might want to consider getting Eva some professional help. You know’ – she lowers her voice – ‘psychological help… to manage her anger.’
I feel my protective mama-bear temper rising and I want to snap back that if her daughter hadn’t been taunting and ridiculing Eva in the first place, she would never have lashed out. But that won’t get any of us anywhere, so with Herculean effort, I bite back my retort. I have to admit that despite Lauren behaving like a little madam, Eva was still in the wrong. ‘I’ll have a think about it,’ I reply, hoping this will appease her.
‘Because if you don’t nip these things in the bud, they can get really serious when kids become teenagers.’ Her voice grows louder to ensure everyone nearby can hear. ‘And if she does it again, Eva could end up being excluded permanently. And none of us want that.’
I’m wondering if maybe Eva inherited her violent outburst from me, because right now, I want to punch Rebecca in the face. I probably shouldn’t have drunk so much caffeine today. Valium would have been a better option. ‘I’m sure Eva’s learnt her lesson,’ I manage. ‘She’s so, so sorry. And it’s pretty safe to say she’ll never do anything like that again.’
‘Well, I hope so,’ Rebecca says. ‘And she’ll apologise to Lauren?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then let’s say no more about it.’
Hallelujah.‘Thanks, Rebecca. For being so understanding.’
‘I’m not one to hold a grudge.’ She smiles and puts a hand to her batik-print scarf, fiddling with the fringe.
Again, my mind flits back to the graffiti on my car. My chest tightens. The school bell rings. ‘So… are we good?’
‘We are.’ With Rebecca’s forgiveness, it’s as though the clouds have parted to reveal the sun. All the other mums stop pretending not to eavesdrop and turn back around, this time including me in their huddle.
Clarissa gives me a smile. ‘We were all just talking about next year, going up to senior school. Eva’s sitting the entrance exam in November, isn’t she?’
I notice that Rebecca isn’t very happy that Clarissa’s talking to me so soon. But Clarissa doesn’t seem to notice Rebecca’s scowl.
‘Entrance exam?’ I ask, a prickle of worry inserting itself behind my breastbone.
‘For the Grammar,’ Clarissa says. ‘Eva’s going to the Grammar school, right?’
‘I… I guess she is.’
‘You know you have to apply by the end of the month?’ Rebecca says, catching the eyes of everyone else, all of whom are trying not to look horrified at my lax parenting.
‘Of course,’ I reply, trying to style it out, but it’s obvious I haven’t got a clue. The problem is, Robert does most of the school runs, so I’m completely out of the loop. I remember getting a letter from school last term talking about senior schools, but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to look into it yet.
‘Who’s your tutor?’ another of the mums asks. Clare, I think her name is. I can’t remember.
‘My tutor?’
‘Eva needs a tutor if you’re going to get her into the Grammar,’ Rebecca says. ‘No one except the super-braniacs like Kyle and Alice will pass the entrance exam without intensive tutoring. Lauren’s been practising past papers since Year 4.’
Why am I only just now finding this out? Why didn’t Rebecca think to mention this to me before now? I know why – because Eva is naturally more academic than Lauren and she didn’t want Eva to do better in the exam. But that’s unfair. It’s not Rebecca’s job to inform me about these things. I should have been paying more attention. I should have been taking Eva’s education more seriously. Once again, I’m thinking about what a bad mother I am. Visualising those spray-painted words. Whoever did it really knows how to wound. I surreptitiously steal glances at Rebecca, wondering if it’s her handiwork. She’s so holier than thou. But I’m not sure when she would have had the opportunity.
‘So, does anyone have the name of a good tutor?’ I ask.
