I stopped, and I waited, just out of sight. I waited long enough to hear the sobs across the lawn and see Helen reach her. And then I saw Lizzie crumple and disappear, and Helen with her.
And my stomach turned and knotted, as though I was some kind of emotional voyeur.
Maybe in the scale of things, considering my own sense of urgency, it shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. It bothered me that they were both hurting so much, Elizabeth as well as Helen.
I took a breath and pushed my own priorities down the list. I could wait.
Elizabeth Thomas was a good friend to Helen, at the heart of it, and Helen was a good friend to her. That kind of bond should never be broken, and it gets broken so easily, I see it all the time.
So I walked away. Even though my heart was in my throat, and my limbs were wired with adrenaline, and resolve, and maybe a little bit of fear, I walked away.
I’d have to wait.
***
I arrived early enough to catch Kenneth before school started. The envelope was burning a hole in my pocket, and I couldn’t bear it. I just wanted this done.
I called his extension until he answered, and I told him I needed to speak with him and it needed to be now.
But then there was Helen, standing in the corridor beyond my art room, her fingers gripped so tightly before her that her knuckles were white. I hung up on Kenneth as she opened the door.
“I need to see you.”
I sighed. “Yes, I need to see you, too.”
She didn’t match my smile, not at all. Her eyes were glassy and her teeth were gritted and she looked so sad, so broken, so tiny.
“Helen, look, I’ve got so much to say…” I got to my feet and moved towards her but she shook her head.
“This isn’t… I’m not here…” she took a breath. “I need you, and it’s not for me, not right now. I just need you to help me with something, because you’re the best man I know, the best person I know, and I don’t… I don’t know what to do… I don’t know how to handle this…”
Professionalism dies hard, even with a resignation letter in your pocket, and I’d heard these kind of requests before, many times. They are never good, always a prelude to something truly horrible. You can see it in their eyes.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
“It’s Lizzie…”
“Ok. Tell me.”
“She’s, um… she needs… help…” She swatted a tear away, and I felt it in my throat. I took a step towards her but she took a step back.
“Where is Elizabeth now?”
Helen pointed behind her, struggling for breath. “She, um… she’s scared… in case you hate her, in case you’re angry.”
“Why would I be angry?”
Her eyes were so sad. “Because it was her… she told my dad… but she didn’t mean it, and she’s in trouble… she’s in so much trouble, Mark, I don’t even know what to do…”
I sighed. “Helen, I’d never be angry like that. Please tell her so.”
“I know, I did, but she just…” She sighed. “I’ll get her.”
Elizabeth was only around the corner. I saw Helen reach for her, pull her along by her elbow, and Elizabeth looked terrible. Nothing like the spirited young woman I’d seen around the school for so long.
I beckoned them in and closed the door behind them and pulled a couple of stools to the side of my desk. Elizabeth wouldn’t even look at me, she kept tight hold of Helen’s hand as she sat down, and then stared at her knees.
“What is it?” I said. “Elizabeth, you can talk here, say whatever you need to say. I won’t judge, I’m just here to help.” I hoped she’d meet my eyes but she didn’t. “I’ll do whatever I can, no matter what it is. We’ll work through it.”
She sobbed, a tiny little noise that hit me in the gut. “But… I’m so… I’m so sorry,” she cried. “You shouldn’t be nice to me, when I’ve ruined everything.”
I took a breath and shunted my chair forward, leaning down until my eyeline was level with hers. “Elizabeth, look at me, please.” Slowly her eyes met mine. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. None of that matters now. What matters is you. I just want to help. Will you let me help?”
“I’m sorry, though…” she cried. “I really am…”
“Don’t be,” I said. “There’s no need.”
Helen cleared her throat. “It’s her stepdad. He… um… he…”
She didn’t need to finish. My blood ran cold, and Elizabeth buckled, leaned into Helen and sobbed against her shoulder.
“How long has this been going on?”
Helen answered for her. “Three years… maybe four… she didn’t want it…”
I dropped to a crouch, and put my hand on Elizabeth’s arm, nothing intrusive, just so she could feel it. “It’s alright,” I said, and I meant it. “We’re going to get this all sorted out. You’ll be safe from now on, I promise.”