The Rosie Result Page 23

Allannah whispered to me, ‘I bet you know, right?’

  ‘Approximately.’

  She pointed to me! The female convenor saw, as Allannah had obviously intended. My cover was broken.

  ‘You’re a…?’ said the convenor.

  ‘Geneticist.’

  ‘Aaargh,’ said Hudson beside me, quietly.

  ‘Does that mean you’re able to tell us how young it’s possible to become pregnant?’

  ‘Not as a consequence of being a geneticist, but due to general wide reading.’

  There was silence, then a murmur of laughter.

  I elaborated. ‘So, yes.’

  ‘And the answer is…’

  ‘Six weeks. Assuming you’re a mouse.’

  This time I earned significant laughter.

  ‘Okay,’ said Hudson. ‘Good one.’

  ‘And if you’re a human?’

  ‘Obviously there’s a statistical distribution. At the extreme, in cases of precocious puberty, there are documented examples of six-year-old humans giving birth.’

  Not unexpectedly, there was a general buzz of conversation.

  ‘But the mean age of fertility in well-nourished human females is approximately twelve to thirteen years. If a girl has sex at that age there is a significant chance of pregnancy.’ I had done exactly what Rosie had prohibited. Mentioned child sex. I needed to compensate, and fortunately had the perfect example for engaging the millennial mind: personal anecdote.

  ‘Obviously few people have sex that young. In my case I was forty.’

  The room exploded in laughter, and this time I knew they were laughing at me.

  I was literally back in primary school, uncomfortable about the subject of sex. I had tried being the class clown and now I’d embarrassed myself by revealing personal information that others could use to mock me. And a room full of primary-school children—and, I observed, their parents—was doing that.

  This was the scenario I had fantasised about in my twenties: returning to school with an adult’s knowledge and responding to a perilous situation with an insightful and apposite statement that would demonstrate my intelligence and maturity.

  Ideas were running through my head: statistics about age of commencement of sexual activity, which I did not have; psychological analysis of the personal defects that led to them finding my late start humorous, when it had been a cause of distress over many years; comparison of my own success in forming a long-term partnership with the world’s most beautiful woman with their own possibly unhappy relationships.

  None of the ideas translated into the required concise and irrefutable statement. Meanwhile, Hudson was saying ‘aaargh’ over and over. Autistic people may repeat a phrase mechanically.

  I saw that the two convenors were conferring, and as the laughter finally died down, they began clapping and encouraging the audience to do the same. The male gestured for me to stand.

  ‘I want everyone to understand what just happened,’ he said when the clapping had stopped, ‘because this is so important. The gentleman shared a bit of personal information that might have been embarrassing to him, and everybody laughed. Because that’s what we do when someone talks about the things we’re afraid of ourselves. Get them first before they get us.

  ‘So, we got him. We all laughed. But it didn’t mean we didn’t like him. We’re thinking, now if I share what I’m worried or embarrassed about—not with a whole room of people, because we’re not all as brave as this gentleman, but with a good friend—it won’t be such a big deal. They’ll still like me, even if they laugh. And I think everyone here would be a bit happier trusting this gentleman with something personal, because he went first. Give him another round of applause, please.’

  I sat down and Allannah squeezed my hand. ‘You’re amazing,’ she said.

  After the event, low-quality tea and coffee were served. Allannah and I continued our conversation while Hudson interacted with other children. Blanche was standing alone, eating a biscuit.

  Allannah had a bruised eye due to a fall, but was otherwise well. She did not raise the subject of the pigeon but wanted me to know that her husband was now aware of the ophthalmologist visit and my role in organising it. He was not pleased.

  ‘How did he find out?’

  ‘Blanche let it slip. Better than if she’d mentioned the other thing.’

  ‘Immunisation.’

  Allannah nodded. ‘I’m glad you came tonight.’

  ‘Rosie was worried that I would say something inappropriate,’ I said. ‘Sex education is a minefield.’

  Allannah laughed. ‘You’re the smartest man I know. No way would Gary have done what you did.’

  ‘How did it go?’ said Rosie when Hudson and I arrived home. ‘Did your dad embarrass you both?’

  ‘Totally,’ said Hudson. ‘Can I get something to eat?’

  Later, I gave Rosie a summary of the evening and she was moderately positive. ‘Good save by the facilitators,’ she said. We agreed that if Hudson had been chosen as cross-country running captain, he should not be pushed to withdraw.

  ‘Rabbit may be looking out for Hudson,’ she said, ‘but after the swimming event, he may be more worried that he’ll do well and prove him wrong.’

  ‘Possibly. Hudson’s aerobic fitness should assist with running. But he’ll need to train.’

  ‘Maybe leave that to him and Phil. Did you see Blanche?’

  ‘Briefly. She was with her mother.’

  ‘No more signs of trouble at home?’

  ‘How could I…’ Of course. The eye. I should have recognised the situation from my own experiences at school, when victims of bullying did not report it, because the intervention by the authorities would be short-term, but they would continue to encounter the bully daily.

  Rosie wanted me to phone Allannah immediately, but I pointed out that she did not have a mobile phone and Gary the Homeopath would probably be monitoring calls on the landline, directly or via the security system.

  ‘Don, this is one sick guy. One dangerous guy.’

  ‘Is it possible Allannah was telling the truth?’ I asked. ‘About the eye injury?’

  ‘Refer previous statement. Hudson’s definitely not going there again.’

  38

  When I was in primary school, I was frequently sent to the headmaster’s office, primarily by the religious-instruction teacher. It became a ritual that I would make some ‘unhelpful’ or ‘peculiar’ or ‘disgusting’ comment about Our Lord or the Holy Bible, be told to sit outside the office, then read a book until the end of the lesson. It would have been easier for everyone if I could have been excused from the class permanently rather than having to prepare an offensive comment every week.

  I was again becoming accustomed to visiting the principal: four times already this year. On this latest occasion, I had been told that Hudson was not in any serious trouble, but that Rosie and I might be able to help with a situation that involved him.

  ‘Sounds like one for good cop,’ said Rosie. ‘But don’t give up any ground.’

  The principal met me outside her office and took me to the girls’ toilets. After determining that they were unoccupied, she invited me in.

  ‘Is it possible you can describe the problem rather than requiring me to enter?’ I asked. I had never been inside a female toilet facility in my life, and, despite the principal’s assurance that the reason for the rule prohibiting males was temporarily not relevant, my mind rebelled.

  ‘All right. I appreciate your reticence. Someone has written, on the wall, Hudson is innocent. I’m not suggesting it’s Hudson: I can’t imagine he’d take the risk of going into the girls’ toilets. Any more than you would.’

  ‘If it’s not Hudson, how can I assist?’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s not just this one instance, and it’s become a bit of a distraction: it’s been brought up in Religious Education. As you know, our classes are more about ethics and the kids think he’s been treated unfairly. So now we’re getting questions
from the RE instructors.’

  ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness. Whereas Thou shalt not kill is not applicable to birds, so the Bible considers lying a greater sin—’

  ‘Something like that. I suspect Hudson’s been encouraging it. And the student who told us about the situation in the first place is now more distressed than Hudson appears to be.’

  I wished I’d had such support from my peers for the numerous injustices I had experienced at school. Bronwyn had not answered my question about my role in assisting, so I volunteered some advice.

  ‘I recommend the application of basic legal principles. Hudson has not been proven guilty of killing the bird. You could announce that because of Hudson’s denial, it was Blanche’s word against his and—’

  ‘How do you…What makes you think it’s Blanche?’ A girl approached the toilet block and Bronwyn led me away. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, all this secretiveness is doing my head in. The girl’s seeing Kellie—you met her, the school counsellor—and she can’t breach confidence. She may just be distressed because she told on her friend, but…’

  I could see the solution clearly, perhaps because I had analysed the problem for several weeks and discussed it with Rosie. ‘The choice is between incorrectly accusing Blanche of lying—’

  ‘Exaggerating.’

  ‘Which is common among schoolchildren—and adults—or incorrectly accusing Hudson not only of lying but of committing an offence which implies a major personality defect, with possible lifelong damage and the immediate impact of him possibly not being accepted into high school.’

  ‘I don’t want to revisit the high-school situation. As you know, the problem was there long before the bird. Frankly, I don’t know anymore if your son did kill the bird but this isn’t a court of law. It’s a primary school and we can’t give in to this sort of thing.’

  It was an unsatisfactory outcome, but I doubted that Rosie would have done any better. As I left, Bronwyn shook my hand and thanked me for being so understanding, given the impact on Hudson.

  ‘I can’t imagine it will be as pleasant if I have to call the other child’s parents in,’ she said.

  It was reasonable for her to fear having to deal with Gary the Homeopath. I tried to think of something encouraging to say. ‘At least it will help you to build resilience.’

  I waited outside the school and intercepted Allannah as she left her vehicle. She moved to hug me, then remembered and pulled back.

  ‘Hey, you were waiting for me,’ she said and smiled.

  ‘Did your husband cause the injury to your eye?’

  ‘Don, don’t go there. Please.’

  ‘I’ve discussed it with Rosie. We’re here if we can help. We’d like to help.’

  ‘Rosie…’ She locked the car and put her keys in her handbag, then bent down beside Blanche’s brother and spent an excessive amount of time adjusting his clothes.

  ‘If you need thinking time,’ I said, ‘you don’t need to perform some physical act as an excuse. I can wait while you stand still or walk silently.’

  She laughed. ‘You’re so sweet. And you’re very kind, but… Gary has an anger problem. It’s not the way he wants to be and he’s working on it. If he really wanted to hurt me, he would have done more than this. And he does so much good work for people.’

  Allannah was using a net-utility argument that she must have known carried almost zero weight in the real world. My good work at the university had not been added to the negative impact of the Genetics Lecture Outrage to determine my overall value. Allannah must have realised her error, because she offered another excuse.

  ‘If you knew what he went through as a kid…’

  ‘It’s still not a reason for violence.’

  ‘There’s a reason for everything. Even killing a pigeon. Sorry, but he’s never hit the children…And…please, please don’t say anything to anyone at the school, but when I met Gary, I had a drug habit. Gary had been there, but he got into homeopathy and turned his life around. He got me through it. But not the first time. Or the second. He stuck with me. Without him, I wouldn’t be here. Whatever you say about homeopathy…Gary and I are living proof.’

  ‘Are you sure we can’t do anything to assist?’

  ‘You getting involved would just make it harder for us to move forward. And Rosie wouldn’t be happy if you did.’

  Rosie was furious with both the Allannah situation and the principal’s position. ‘I want you to call the police. They won’t do anything, so you won’t be in trouble with Allannah, if that’s bothering you, but they’ll have a note if something else comes up.’

  ‘Agreed. I’ll report the incident tomorrow.’

  With respect to the school, she wanted to act immediately. ‘They don’t think he did it but they’re more worried about being seen to have made a mistake than about Hudson’s wellbeing. We’re pulling him out. Now. He can go to the state school; it’s only a few weeks and we’ll work it out from there.’

  ‘We should talk to Hudson. Also, there’s probably nobody at the school now.’

  Rosie put her phone back in her bag. ‘The voice of reason.’

  ‘And empathy. All decisions about school are ultimately to advance Hudson’s wellbeing. As you implied.’

  Hudson didn’t want to leave the school. ‘The kids are okay,’ he said. ‘I think all schools are the same. Life isn’t fair.’

  ‘Tough conclusion to reach at eleven,’ said Rosie later.

  ‘He’s quoting Dave. But he has surely experienced unfairness before.’

  ‘You’re right. I was eight when my mum died. I thought that was pretty unfair.’

  I visited our local police station the following morning, and their response was initially as Rosie had predicted. But the policeman, a man of about my age, accompanied me out the door.

  ‘You’ve done the right thing reporting it,’ he said. ‘But a word to the wise. Some blokes don’t like their wives having good-looking male friends. Especially ones who shop their husbands to the police. Are you with me?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Just watch out for yourself. If she’s more of a friend than you’ve told us, have a good think about it. And don’t tell her you’ve spoken to us.’

  39

  Three days after my visit to the girls’ toilets, Hudson texted me from Eugenie’s: Can I stay for dinner? It’s okay with Eugenie’s mum.

  I texted agreement, but when Rosie arrived home, she insisted we phone Eugenie’s mum, who was, of course, Claudia.

  ‘Rosie wanted me to check that Hudson was okay. I assume you’d have contacted me if not.’

  ‘Well, yes and no. I’m glad you rang. Hudson had a bit of trauma today, and shared it with Eugenie, and she sent it upstairs to me.’

  ‘Your house has only one storey. Have you moved? Or extended?’

  ‘Metaphorically upstairs. To a more experienced person.’

  ‘He needed the services of a psychologist?’

  ‘He wanted to talk to someone independent. What I wanted to know is whether I can keep what he says in confidence or if you want me to share it with you. I’ll have to tell him whatever you decide.’

  ‘What do you recommend?’

  ‘I recommend telling him he can continue to speak to me in confidence, but I’ll encourage him to share what he can with you in due course. Does that make sense?’

  ‘Perfect sense. Does it involve a pigeon?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  I waited until all three of us were sitting at the table the following evening.

  ‘What did you and Claudia talk about yesterday?’

  ‘Don…’ said Rosie, but Hudson was already answering.

  ‘She said that you were a bit of a klutz in understanding other people’s feelings, especially girls’.’

  ‘That seems to be an incredible breach of confidence for a psychologist.’

  ‘It’s all men. It’s in our genes. We only look bad because women are so good at it.’

  �
�Claudia said that?’ said Rosie. ‘She’s sounding like Gene.’

  ‘Anyway, I did something klutzy too. With Blanche. She was my only friend, and then I started hanging out with some other kids and I didn’t think about how I was her only friend. And there’s a girl in my class that everyone thinks is the hottest…the coolest…’

  ‘That would be Nadia, would it?’ said Rosie.

  ‘Yeah. That one. Anyway, Blanche didn’t think I liked her—Blanche—anymore, and I guess if she had done that to me I would have felt the same. So she told her mum about the eye doctor. Then she dobbed me in about the pigeon. And made up the bit about seeing me kill it.’

  ‘How do you feel about that?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘How did you find out?’ I asked.

  ‘She wrote me a note. She said she was sorry.’

  ‘That was pretty brave of her,’ said Rosie.

  ‘Eugenie’s mum agrees with you. So does Eugenie.’

  ‘What do you think?’ said Rosie.

  ‘We both messed up. We should put it behind us, because being angry gets in the way of everything else. Eugenie’s mum basically said that, but I agree.’

  ‘Do you need to take some action?’ I asked.

  ‘I talked to Blanche. We’re going to try to be friends again, but I can’t go to her place and she can’t come here, because she hasn’t told her parents.’

  ‘Has she told the principal? That she didn’t see you kill the pigeon?’ said Rosie.

  ‘No. She’d be in huge trouble for lying.’

  ‘Maybe not if she spoke up,’ said Rosie. ‘Or you could tell the principal about the letter.’

  Hudson looked shocked, as I would have been. Rosie might know more about psychology, but she had forgotten the rules of school. In that context, as in the mafia, betrayal was more serious than all other crimes.

  A disproportionate number of Hudson’s classmates seemed to have birthdays in the final term, evidenced by Hudson attending a party almost every weekend, sometimes two. I formed a hypothesis that the children had been conceived as a result of more frequent sex or a careless approach to contraception during the summer holidays.

  It turned out that my theory was incorrect. Birthdays had occurred and parties had been held earlier in the year, but Hudson had in most instances not been invited and in the remaining instances had chosen not to attend.