Alex Gray - Glasgow Kiss

‘Is James Kerrigan coming back to school for Sixth Year?’

‘Don’t know yet. Anyway, look at you! You’d think you’d been in the Bahamas all summer instead of. . where was it? Skye?’

‘No.’ Maggie shook her head, making the dark curls fall across her face. ‘We were in Mull. In this fabulous wee cottage. Had a brilliant time. Then spent the rest of the holiday out in the garden. Oh, and we’ve got a cat-’

But Maggie Lorimer’s eager flow of chatter stopped abruptly as both women turned the corner and came face to face with a tall man striding towards them.

Eric Chalmers possessed the sort of physical attributes that would make any woman stop in her tracks; his blonde hair was swept forward into a boyish quiff and his smile revealed a pair of dimples that could disarm the most hardened members of staff, and often did.

It was Sandie who spoke first. ‘Manson wants us all downstairs. Meeting. Now,’ she said, catching her breath as if she had been running.

Eric raised his eyebrows. ‘Any special reason?’

‘The Kerrigan kids. Has to be.’

‘The Kerrigans? Why? What’s happened?’

‘Eric! Surely you must be the only person in the country who doesn’t know about this.’ Maggie tut-tutted. ‘Kyle and James’s father’s been released from Barlinnie. Don’t you remember? It was a verdict of manslaughter at the time so he’s only served eight years.’

‘He murdered some thug in Drumchapel,’ Sandie added darkly. ‘But the victim’s family have been making angry noises about lack of Victim Support and the injustice to them of Kerrigan’s early release. It’s been all over the papers and on the telly. How come you haven’t seen it?’

‘Ah!’ Eric fell into step with the two women. ‘Not been quite in this world the past few days,’ he admitted. Then his face broke into another hundred-watt smile. ‘Ruth had a wee girl!’

‘Aw, congratulations!’ Sandie’s arms were flung around the other teacher’s chest and before he could protest she had landed a kiss on his cheek.

‘That’s lovely news, Eric. How are they both doing?’

‘Fine. We’ve called her Ashleigh. Both sets of grandparents wanted biblical names but we just liked that one,’ he said.

Sandie raised her eyebrows but refrained from making her usual caustic comment about Eric’s father and father-in-law, both Church of Scotland ministers. It was common knowledge among his friends at school that Eric was a grave disappointment to his family for not following his father into the ministry. Instead he had chosen to train as a teacher of Religious Education and his enthusiasm and charisma made him one of the most popular members of staff in Muirpark Secondary. His own name, he had told them once, had been in memory of the famous runner-turned-missionary Eric Liddell. Somehow the kids had got wind of this and it was not uncommon for them to hum the theme tune of Chariots of Fire whenever they passed him in the corridor. Eric, being Eric, just laughed which endeared him to the kids all the more. A surprising number of them turned up for his Scripture Union club on a Thursday after school and he’d taken groups to the SU camps during the Easter and Summer breaks.

They had reached the main hall now and the murmur of voices told them that the meeting had not yet begun.

‘What d’you think?’ Sandie began to whisper to Maggie as they took their seats. But her words were lost in a general clearing of throats that heralded the entrance of Keith Manson, Muirpark’s head teacher. A short, stocky man in his mid-fifties, Manson was nonetheless a figure of authority, his bull neck rising from a frame that was pure muscle. He’d been an amateur boxing champion in his day and still lent a hand at a club in Drumchapel that boasted a steady stream of successful youngsters. One of them had even been picked for the British Olympic team. Never one to smile, Manson’s expression was a customary mixture of belligerence and world-weariness, and his legendary temper kept both staff and pupils wary of him.

‘Right then,’ the man’s voice boomed over the assembled staff. ‘You can guess why we’re here. I’d like to be able to say welcome to you all, hope you had a refreshing break, but frankly those sorts of platitudes will have to wait till a better time. This morning I’ve got more important things to say to you all.’ Manson broke off to stare over his staff. The ripple of talk had died abruptly and the teachers who sat watching and waiting were as quiet as a First Year assembly.

‘Unless you’ve been on a different planet you’ll all know that Kyle Kerrigan’s father has been released from prison.’

Sandie shot a glance at Eric and was rewarded by a sheepish half-grin.

‘It’s a terrible business for a young boy like Kyle. He was only in Primary Two when his father was locked up. Now he has to cope with all of this hoo-hah that’s going on in the papers. Whether the courts were correct to mete out the sentence they did is not for us to decide. Our responsibility is to the pupils in our care and right now that means Kyle.’ There was a pause during which an undercurrent of muttering broke out. ‘And no, before anyone asks, James will not be returning to school.’

Maggie listened to the collective sigh of relief from the teachers around her. James Kerrigan had been trouble with a capital T and his departure from Muirpark Secondary was good news. But the assembled staff quietened again as Manson continued.

‘Kyle is now back living in Drumchapel with his father and brothers but I have approved a placement request from his grandmother and he will be continuing his education here. I just wanted you all to be aware of the situation and to keep a friendly eye on the boy. He’s never been any trouble to us and has never come into the orbit of Strathclyde’s finest, I’m glad to say. Speaking of which, congratulations are surely in order for a certain Detective Chief Inspector?’ he added as an aside, directing his gaze at Maggie. She felt the colour rise to her cheeks as a few people turned and stared. Her husband, DCI William Lorimer, had been involved in a sensational murder case over the summer months, a case that had also made newspaper headlines.

‘Oh, and would you see me after this meeting, Mrs Lorimer? As Kyle’s year teacher I’d like a word with you.’

Maggie felt her heart sink. She’d expected it but it was still a horrible thing to have to endure. Being Kyle Kerrigan’s year teacher had been a joy for the past three years. He had grown from a shy wee boy into a genuinely nice lad who wasn’t afraid to speak out in class. And the fact that English was his favourite subject had made their relationship all the better. Maggie had been looking forward to being his Standard Grade teacher again this year.

‘The gentlemen of the press will be here later this morning,’ Manson continued, deliberately making the word sound dirty. ‘I must advise all of you to steer clear of them unless I have particularly asked you to give some sort of comment regarding Kyle. They are bound to target some of his pals, so be on the lookout for anyone hanging around the school gates. The janitors have been told to turn them away and a letter is being sent out to parents advising them not to give any interviews.’ Manson scowled as he spoke. ‘We can’t stop them, of course,’ he added, looking around as if to catch any one of his staff who might be thinking of supplementing their salary with an exclusive. ‘But I hope common sense and decency will prevail. I want Kyle Kerrigan treated with respect, not wrapped up in cotton wool.’ There were a few laughs at that statement: Kyle was one of Muirpark’s sporting hopes for the future, his prowess in the boxing ring making him a clear favourite with the head teacher. ‘Let him get on with his schoolwork. A sense of normality is probably the kindest thing you can give him right now.’ He paused again, nodding to them all. ‘That’s all you need to know just now. A staff memo will be circulated as and when any other matters need to be discussed.’