Chapter 2

Twenty minutes later the last of the dishes were washed, the stove and bench-tops were wiped. I was waiting for a phone call.

The headmaster of the highschool and myself are now on a first name basis. The day after I 'adopted' Mel I visited the office explaining to the ladies of my guardianship, changed her contact details and so forth. (In reality it was three months later after five visits to the Department of Community Services, which made it legal and financially she was covered by payments from Centrelink. I just forked out the necessary doe-ray-me until it happened) The lady who served me gave me a strangely quizzical look and then pursed her lips, pointing through the office over to the other little office window designed for the use of the kids. Seated on the bench against the wall was Mel, studiously staring at the ceiling. Thirty minutes later I met Tommy Harold, headmaster of the school, for the first time. He gave me a lecture on Mel's penal history and scholastic achievements; the former took four foolscap pages of closely spaced typeface the latter a short note on a fifth page. He told me that I was making a rod for my own back and if there was any way out of this relationship I should take it screaming for joy - she was on the cusp of being expelled and even the school councillor almost ran screaming at the sight of Mel. Okay he exaggerated about the screaming, but you can get the picture. On the other hand he wouldn't know my daughter from any of the other eight thousand pupils in the school and had to look up her file to comment on her progress. No tall poppy was my girl just a blessing for her father.

The phone call? Oh, yes the phone call! During the first two months of this guardianship the office rang me no less than once a day. If I negotiated through the problem in the morning often there was another phone call early in the afternoon. The average was about eight a week as I have discovered that I'm not a bad phone negotiator. I used to double park in the tiny teachers car park and stroll into the office foyer and check out Tommy's office to see if it was empty. If it were I sat in one of his visitor's chairs, if not I'd plunk myself into the chair in the foyer. I'd smile and greet Helen, Rita or Mary through the office's sliding window, discussing the weather, their kids (or grandkids in Rita's case) the school formal or the upcoming school concert they were all dreading or whatever. Helen, Rita and Mary were the receptionists in the office the other four ladies were clerks only, though I knew they understood my circumstance.

The problems were many and varied as would be expected. Playing truant, especially from Maths and anything relating to Mathematics; fighting - usually with another girl over a boy, although I saw the results of a mean right hook, left jab combination to the face and sola plexus of a rather sturdy, muscular looking boy, a football player by all accounts, who'd made the mistake of tormenting the poor defenceless child. He was about fifty millimetres taller than me and I'm six foot three. Leaving the school grounds without permission was another common offence. In the beginning she would not discuss with me the reasons for an outburst, she would just sit sullenly in the car on the way home and then storm into her room on arriving at the house. She'd slam the bedroom door, sometime two or three times to make her point, then later act as if nothing had happened. I'd learn all about it when my Angel arrived home and they'd talk loudly at each other excitedly. You can't say that two people shouting at each other at the same time, even if it is on the same subject, are having a discussion.

As her time with us increased the number of crimes diminished. These days I only received the dreaded phone call about once a week, thankfully sometimes not at all. We've gone through the blaming me for everything stage, the blaming everyone else for everything stage, the taking the blame for everything herself stage and we've arrived at, the let's sit down and discuss the problem without recrimination stage. Her period is due in two days, it's Friday, she'd made it blatantly clear that her mind wasn't on schoolwork as she left for school this morning and the first two double periods this morning were Maths and Algebra with the same teacher, so I was expecting the phone call. I've learnt to recognise the symptoms. The phone rang about 10am at almost exactly the same time I heard the front door opening. I answered the phone and it was as per expectation. Mel just stood in front of me staring at the ground, shoulders shrugged in submission, her hands tying knots in front of her overly short skirt, school bag at her feet. She was expecting what she got from all her previous guardians including both her parents, waiting for the backlash. I told Alexandra, the school councillor that I'd fix the problem or arrive at an agreeable solution somehow to one and all. Mel began to attempt to shuffle away without being noticed but I pointed my finger at her and using The Voice said, "Sit; Stay!" She sat so suddenly on her breakfast stool I'd swear I heard a sloshing sound. I think she would have hit the floor if the stool hadn't been there, the Pavlovian reflex in extremis. (the sloshing sound was due to the rear of her skirt being absolutely saturated) I said a silent thank you for dark uniform skirts although this one would need a good wash to remove the smell.