Chapter 10

The following day, the school was buzzing with the story of the Headmaster leaving in the company of two police officers. Rumours started flying when the police arrived back at the school and Mrs Paterson accompanied them out to their patrol car.

"Ogilvie has been charged with sexual harassment." "Ogilvie's been caught with one of the fifth year girls and the secretary was in on it."

These were just two of the many pieces of wild speculation that were spreading like wildfire.

The same two officers arrived at Craig Bheithe farm to update the McGregors on what action they had taken and to ask Donnie to go with them to the station to make a formal statement.

"If I make a statement, can I still withdraw the charges at a later stage?" Donnie enquired.

The officers scrutinised him closely for a few moments before the policeman answered his question.

"Yes, you can still withdraw the charges later. Are you suggesting that you want to withdraw the charges? Have you been telling us the whole truth about what went on?"

"Everything I've told you is the truth," Donnie confirmed. "I'm not vindictive though and if the school can sort things out so that their processes are more transparent and fair, then I don't see why I should pursue Mr Ogilvie beyond that."

Donnie and his father made their own way to the police station and Douglas remained with his son while a formal statement was taken. Donnie read the statement through and then, nodding, he signed to confirm that he was content it was accurate.

No sooner had father and son returned to the farm than Mairi advised them that the Director of Education had phoned while they were out.

"He seemed very agitated and pressed to have a meeting with Donnie as soon as possible," Mairi told them.

"That sounds positive," suggested Donnie. "If he's moving this quickly, it's surely to try and resolve things before the legal process gets to a point where it's irreversible?"

"Where does he want to meet?" Douglas asked.

"At the school. He suggested we get there by one o'clock if we can," Mairi told them.

Ironically, the meeting took place in the Headmaster's office. Mr Ogilvie sat quietly, but was clearly still angry. The Director of Education, a Mister Riddle, introduced himself and asked Donnie and his parents to take seats.

The Director and Ogilvie were on one side of the Headmaster's desk and the McGregors were on the other. Just as Riddle was about to begin the meeting, Donnie held his hand up to halt him.

"Er, Mr Riddle, I'm not trying to be awkward, but wouldn't it be less adversarial if we weren't on opposite sides of the desk?" he asked quietly.

The Director looked at the room set-up and thought that Donnie had a valid point.

"Good thinking, Donnie. Let's get these chairs out from behind the desk," Riddle agreed.

Once the chairs were arranged in a circle, Riddle began again. He was encouraged by Donnie's helpful suggestion, seeing it as a sign that the youngster may be willing to work with him to resolve the issues.

"Okay," Riddle began, "I'm hoping we can all work together to try and get past the unfortunate misunderstandings of yesterday."

At the use of 'misunderstanding' Donnie's face clouded and he glanced at his parents. Douglas imperceptibly shook his head to warn his son not to interrupt at this point. Douglas was keen for the council and the school to show their hand before saying anything.

"I can confirm that the school are willing to rescind Donnie's exclusion with immediate effect and that we will replace Donnie's jacket at no cost to yourselves. In return we would need Donnie to drop any action currently being pursued and he should apologise to Mr Ogilvie and Mrs Paterson."

When Riddle had finished his little speech, he leaned back in his chair and smiled broadly at everyone.

Douglas stood and gestured to his wife and son to stand too. He turned as they made for the door and gave his advice to the Director.

"I think that you need to get to the bottom of what went on here yesterday because it's clear from what you've just said that you don't know the facts. If anybody needs to apologise I think you'll find that it's not Donnie. Once you've enlightened yourself, you can call again. Let me make myself clear though. If that call doesn't begin with the words 'Mr Ogilvie will no longer be working at the school' then we won't be meeting again. We'll leave any future meetings to my lawyer."

Riddle's face crumpled, as he realised there was something going on that he wasn't fully aware of. He shot a look at Ogilvie and then rushed to follow the McGregors out of the door.

"Let's not be so hasty, Mr McGregor! I'm sure we can sort all this out if we just sit down and discuss the matter," he got out in a rush.

Douglas stopped and turned again.

"I'm always happy to try and sort things through dialogue. However, I'm not going to waste any more of my time when you obviously don't even know the truth about yesterday's events. I suggest you contact the police and ascertain just what Mr Ogilvie is being charged with. Now, good day."

Riddle was left outside the Headmaster's door, his mouth agape. That lasted for all of thirty seconds and then his face darkened and he re-entered the office, closing the door behind him.

"You've just allowed me to make an absolute fool of myself, Jim. I can assure you, that I'll make you pay for that. Now, are you going to tell what really happened yesterday or am I going to have to do what the McGregors suggest and contact the police?"

Ogilvie's response was surprising in its sheer venom.

"It's all down to that arrogant little bastard! Did you see him? Didn't I tell you just how supercilious he was? Trying to take charge by moving the chairs – little bastard!"

Riddle was shocked at the outburst and he shook his head sadly.

"Jim, you need to think about what you're saying. You're perspective and judgement seem to be way off here. For a start, young McGregor is anything but little. His suggestion about the chairs was a good one – he was right, we had placed the desk between us and that was almost a subliminal message that we were on opposite sides. The boy was perfectly polite. I don't see what your problem is. Now, the truth about yesterday please?"

Ogilvie frowned as he realised the Director was not agreeing with him about Donnie's attitude and behaviour. He folded his arms, pursed his lips and refused to respond to Riddle's request.

Sighing deeply, the Director crossed to the coat rack mounted on the wall behind and to the left of the office door. He picked up Ogilvie's jacket and handed it to him.

"Go home; you're officially suspended pending the outcome of my investigation into yesterday's events. I'll be in touch eventually – hopefully once I have all of this sorted out."

Once the shocked Ogilvie had shuffled from his own office and left the building, Riddle asked the secretary (Josephine's mother) to get him a contact number for the police who were handling matters to do with Donnie McGregor.

Ten minutes later the secretary buzzed through to tell the Director that she had the police on the line.

"Put them through," he said. "Hello? Yes, this is Peter Riddle; I'm Director of Education at Perth Council. I'm trying to speak to someone who might be dealing with the Donnie McGregor case."

"I think you must be mistaken. There is no 'Donnie McGregor case'. Do you mean the charges that have been made against your Head teacher, Mr Ogilvie?" the policeman on the phone asked.

"Charges? Charges against Jim Ogilvie? Look, you'll have to bear with me. All I've heard is Jim's version of events yesterday. Would it be possible for you to share what you know? It might save both of us a mountain of paperwork."

The Director had hit on the one thing guaranteed to get a positive reaction. All policemen hated the stacks of paperwork they had to complete on a daily basis. When that involved a case like the one involving Donnie, it was all the more frustrating, as the officers knew that it was unlikely the charges would be taken forward.

In short order Peter Riddle was advised that an independent witness had confirmed that Donnie had basically been bullied, excluded for no good reason, assaulted and finally expelled from the school building, in freezing conditions, with no way to get to his home that was 15 miles away.

"And you're positive that Jim Ogilvie actually attacked the youngster?" Riddle asked for confirmation. "And Donnie specifically told Jim that his keys were in the bag?"

Once the conversation was over, the Director knew that both Ogilvie and the secretary, Mrs Paterson had been lying to him. He could now fully understand Douglas McGregor's reaction earlier. He found it hard to believe Ogilvie's actions.

Stabbing the intercom on the Headmaster's face, the Director asked Mrs McCallister to try and get the McGregors on the line. Minutes later she buzzed through and he was connected.

"Look, I've just spoken to the police and discovered the full extent of what went on here yesterday. I can only apologise for what was said earlier, you had every right to be annoyed and I should have researched all of the facts before speaking to you. Would it be too much to ask you to return to the school right now? Thank you, I really appreciate this. Yes, I'll see you then."

Just over half an hour later, the McGregors were once again seated in the Headmaster's office, but this time the discussions were of a completely different nature. Peter Riddle began by giving Douglas an assurance.

"Earlier you stipulated that my next call to you should confirm that Jim Ogilvie was no longer working at the school. I can give you that assurance now. After hearing what the police had to say, I would be surprised if he's not dismissed for gross misconduct."

Donnie chose that moment to intervene.

"Will that mean that he'll lose his pension and other benefits?"

The Director looked at Donnie and thought for a few moments before answering.

"Given the circumstances, that's entirely possible."

"I think that's going too far," said Donnie. "This situation has gotten completely out of hand and in fact we run the risk of missing the point all together."

Riddle was intrigued by what Donnie was suggesting and he asked him to explain what he meant. Donnie repeated the conversation he had had with his parents the day before. He explained what was wrong with the school's approach to discipline and how it lacked natural justice.

"I think the policy really does need to change. There should be a genuine willingness to listen to the 'students' voice', not the lip-service that Mr Ogilvie has been paying for so long. There are many positive things that the students in this school can contribute that will improve learning for everybody," Donnie argued.

Listening to Donnie's impassioned plea, the Director couldn't fail to be impressed with the ideas Donnie was putting forward and could see the potential benefits for the school's future achievements.

"You know, I'm just beginning to realise just how big a fool Jim Ogilvie is," the Director observed. "If he had just taken the time to listen to your ideas, he would have been at the forefront of some innovative solutions to the problems we are all grappling with."

"These aren't my ideas, they're ideas generated by the school's student council. All the council wants is a chance to play a part in making the school better," Donnie suggested modestly.

Donnie's return to the student council room was met by cheers from his fellow council members. When he explained how positively the Director of Education had responded to their ideas, all of them were excited at the possibilities for the future.

"We did this together!" said Donnie. "I think each of you can now justifiably claim to be a member of the first student council to have genuinely made a difference!"

Later that day, Donnie heard the goddess speak to him inside his head.

"I have been following events with interest, Dòmhnall. I saw no need to intervene on this occasion and you handled yourself very well indeed. You got just the outcome you and your friends were looking for and your development is coming on much quicker than even I could have hoped for. I am pleased with you."

The next intervention by a goddess was an unexpected one. Its origins lay in a conversation between Donnie and Heather over lunch in the school lunchroom. For once the two teenagers had a table to themselves and Heather took the opportunity of returning to an issue that was occupying more and more of her thoughts.

"On my birthday you said that I should take some time to think about what I wanted to do. I can understand what you meant at the time and you were right, I wasn't thinking clearly."

Donnie cottoned on straight away to what Heather was referring to. He stopped eating and made sure she could see that she had his undivided attention. This was important.

"My thoughts on the matter haven't changed," Heather got out in a rush. "I think we're ready to take that step and if you don't do it soon, I think I'm going to spontaneously combust."

Donnie couldn't help but laugh at Heather's description of herself. Heather found herself joining in and that helped relieve some of the tension she was feeling. Donnie composed himself, he knew how important this was and he needed to show that he was taking Heather very seriously indeed.

"This is a big step for both of us. If you're absolutely sure, then I would indeed be honoured to share my first time with you."

Heather looked somewhat puzzled at his response.

"You mean ... Are you saying that you're still a virgin too?" she asked quietly, glancing round to make sure no one was in earshot.

"Yes, I am. Why do you sound so surprised?" Donnie asked.

"But you sure seemed to know what you were doing the other night," Heather explained her puzzlement.

"Beginner's luck," Donnie chuckled. Now all we need is the right opportunity."

"You'd better not keep me waiting too long, buster!" Heather warned.

Heather wasn't to know it, but her pressing Donnie had a significant effect. That same night Heather found herself having a strange, but highly erotic dream.

Despite being asleep, the sensations she was feeling were absolutely unbelievable. There were echoes of the night of her birthday when Donnie had gone down on her, but even that paled when compared to the way her nerve endings were on fire now.

Heather wasn't sure when she transitioned from sleep to being awake, but she could tell that the sensations from her dream hadn't abated one little bit. Looking down, she saw that her legs were bent at the knee under her duvet. She could feel her heels planted on the mattress and her legs splayed apart.

What was 'wrong' with the picture she could see was the lump under the duvet that was between her legs. That shouldn't, couldn't be there but as Heather watched, part of the lump began to rise and fall in a slow rhythm. The movement corresponded with the resumption of the electric feelings that were shooting through her core. Heather could feel something working on her clit and she felt herself shaking her head from side to side. She was vaguely aware that she should be freaking out, but somehow she was just giving herself over to the most intense feelings she had experienced in her short sixteen years of life.

Heather felt an orgasm approaching. Donnie had somehow managed to let things build and build until the waves of pleasure washed over her. This feeling was something altogether different, more 'raw'. It seemed to well up quickly and she had the picture of a tsunami inside her head.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhgggghhhhhhhhh!" escaped her lips as the huge wave of ecstasy crashed over her and leapt across every synapse at once.

When Heather regained her senses, she felt something or more accurately someone beginning to kiss their way up her flat stomach towards her breasts. Hands rucked her sleeping 'T' out of the way and she felt lips descend to feast on her diamond hard nipples. This continued for some time and Heather was vaguely aware that there was a different quality to the way her breasts were being pleasured. It was a more subtle technique than Donnie had used. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew the difference was something to be welcomed. All too soon the lips resumed their climb and Heather's eyes opened wide in astonishment, as a woman's head emerged from under the duvet.

Heather had been convinced that Donnie had somehow managed to get into her room, but the dazzling green eyes that were staring at her were certainly not his. The woman appeared petite, even smaller than Heather was and her porcelain skin was contrasted by the long coal-black hair that framed her face.

At the back of Heather's head, the notion that she should be screaming was still there, but she had no intention of acting on it for some reason. She felt hypnotised as the woman's face closed with hers and she felt the softest, sweetest kiss on her lips.

"Hello, Heather. My name is Epona."

Heather was sure that Epona's lips hadn't moved, but she had definitely heard the beautiful woman's voice. Even the voice was a thing of wonder. It seemed to physically stroke Heather's cheek, as Epona herself dipped to run her slender tongue down the teenager's neck to the hollow where it met her shoulder.

Still Heather was mesmerised by the woman and she felt slender hands curl round her legs, grasping them from below to keep them firmly apart. Something hard wedged itself in the groove of her sex and Heather felt it slide upwards, nudging her clit as it did so.