Page 82 of The Teacher

I’m so confused.

“Where’s the proof, Mr. Deep? You can’t just accuse me of anything unless you can prove it.”

Miss Tweed thinks she has Skipper caught now with her logic. Her surprised expression reverts back to her smug smile.

For a moment there I was deluded to think Skipper had won, that he’d one-upped Miss Tweed, but she’s still a wolf amongst sheep. She knows how to play this game.

She’s a fighter, and she’s going to fight back.

I hope Skipper is right in his accusation because otherwise there’ll be hell to pay.

“You did say you wanted to work with me to cut the riff-raff out of the school, Miss Tweed. Now I’ve found out it’s actually you who’s the riff-raff.”

“You need evidence, Mr. Deep,” she replies. “You need proof before you can sling these kinds of words in here in front of me.”

“Don’t worry about proof, Miss Tweed, I’ve got a whole load of evidence. Documents and documents of tax receipts and files that my team has gathered. There’s a whole lot of paperwork I have ready. My team of accountants and lawyers have all the numbers, and they all point to you.”

Miss Tweed’s face drops.

He’s got her.

It’s very satisfying.

I didn’t think I’ll be seeing this all happening when I came in expecting to be fired this morning.

“I don’t understand what I’m hearing,” Mr. Brown mutters, and, for once, I agree with him. I don’t know what’s happening. But Skipper clearly does. He’s so restrained and serene like he knows exactly what he’s doing. He has this all planned out.

“I am angry,” Skipper says. “Not about the school’s money, I don’t care about that. I don’t even care about one stupid teacher skimming off tens of thousands a year. What I care about is the person I love the most in the world getting heartbroken. That’s what has really got me angry, and I think you know what I’m talking about, Miss Tweed.”

The person he loves the most in the world? Their heart broken?

Is he talking about me?

Miss Tweed’s giant puffy hair wobbles as she shakes in apprehension. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Deep,” she stammers.

“Oh, I think you do. Tell Sandy here about how you tried to frame me.”

What?

“I never did.”

“Don’t you lie. Not on this.”

“I’ve never tried to frame you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Skipper takes in a deep breath, and his composure slightly cracks. I see through this calm façade he’s putting on. There’s something boiling underneath. He’s full of anger. Miss Tweed spots it too and immediately shuts up.

Skipper Deep is furious.

“Okay,” he says, restraining his emotion with a toneless delivery. “Fine then.”

He nods at his bodyguard. Steve leaves the office only to return a moment later pulling in the arm of someone.

Becky Taylor.

The bodyguard has brought in Becky Taylor. The woman I last saw flashing her tits into Skipper’s face.

What’s going on?