School of Scandals

By Tammy LaBam

Welcome to Richfield High School - one of the most prestigious international schools located in the heart of sunny Singapore.

Take a stroll in this school that’s reserved solely for the richest, most privileged – and dare we say spoilt - students that hail from all around the world. Have a roam around the lush green campus which has state-of-the-art-facilities that would quite easily put any other schools in Singapore to shame. Explore the school grounds a little; have a quick sniff and poke around here and there. Chances are, if you linger around long enough, you might just discover some of the deep, dark, and sordid secrets and scandals that lie hidden behind the closed doors of the school.

Have you wondered about what the headmistress is really hiding behind that cool and calm façade?

Could the discipline master be secretly hoarding a scandal that could rock the school if it gets exposed?

Just what are some of the questionable things that the not-so-innocent students get up to once the last bell has rung for the day?

Go on, take a look around Richfield High School, a school that’s truly like no other. You might just realize that in this school everyone has a scandal to tell and a juicy secret to share...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tammy LaBam
• Release date: Apr 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301668403

Tammy LaBam

Tammy LaBam grew up in Singapore and has worked as a cabin crew, a creative designer, a marketing communications executive, and in an international school. She is fond of the simple things in life: sunshine, a nice cup of brew, silly-looking animals, art and books. In her free time - when she's not writing a new book or chasing her two cats round the house - she enjoys travelling with said better half and enriching her life with new experiences. She has also written two other children's fiction - MAGUIRE THE LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE and GUNG-HO GRANDMA which will be released soon.

Book preview

SCHOOL OF SCANDALS

TAMMY LABAM

Sometimes the truth doesn't stray too far from fiction. - Anoymous

School of Scandals

Published by Tammy LaBam at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Tammy LaBam

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CONTENTS

1 THE HEADMISTRESS

2 THE DISCIPLINE MASTER

3 THE MOTHER

4 THE STUDENT

5 THE MUSIC TEACHER

6 THE SCHOOL SECRETARY

7 THE ADMISSIONS TEAM

8 THE CARETAKER

9 THE EX-HEADMASTER

EPILOGUE

1 THE HEADMISTRESS

I really need to take a break, thought Ellen wearily as she rubbed her eyes which were looking red-rimmed and puffy. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lighting in her office made her eyes hurt and her head throb. I need to get some fresh air, and get away from the damned computer and the damned paperwork. The four walls of her office were threatening to close in on Ellen. The claustrophobic feeling was not a welcome one. She’d been in since half seven in the morning which was the time she got in most mornings. Out of habit, she was usually wide awake at six every morning and would find herself unable to get back to sleep, hence she would head to school after a quick shower and a simple breakfast of buttered toast and a cup of pungent black coffee. It was what she had for breakfast every day with the exception of weekends where she might boil herself an egg or fry up some bacon. After her morning meal she would be out of the house by seven and on the train by a quarter past – that way it was nice and peaceful before the morning crowd hits. It was the same routine for Ellen from Monday to Friday and it suited her. She was a creature of habit and it made her feel safe, knowing that her life was as organized as the colour-coded shirts in her wardrobe and the neatly-labelled jars of spices in her kitchen. She liked being in control of things and her life.

She yawned widely and stole a look at her watch.

6.40 P.M.

She’d been plugging away relentlessly on the computer for three hours now, keen to finish the report that was to be urgently submitted to the school board. She could definitely feel a migraine coming on and knew that it was time to take a break. She took out her compact and flipped it open to check her reflection. What stared back at her in the mirror alarmed her, for she looked haggard and a holy mess. Her normally immaculate blonde hair was dishevelled and sticking up in bunches – she must have run her fingers through them unknowingly, a habit of hers whenever she was concentrating hard on a stressful task.

At least her trichotillomania was well under control, she consoled herself. The compulsive hair-pulling disorder had left her with stubby eyelashes and almost non-existent eyebrows which caused her the inconvenience of having to pencil in her eyebrows before she stepped out of the house on days she wanted to look like a decent human being. She inspected her skin which looked dull and grey from too much caffeine – typically four cups of coffee on a daily basis - and severe lack of sleep. Her eye bags were appallingly massive, and combined with her unkempt hair, she thought she looked uncannily like one of those witches from a children’s book. She’d got to do something about her appearance, even though it wasn’t in her nature to be vain about her looks. She really couldn’t care less about how she looked but she was the headmistress of the school after all, and she had to maintain a presentable exterior. That was the only reason why she bothered to take the trouble of pencilling in her eyebrows every morning; she wouldn’t bother otherwise. Taking a last critical look at herself in the compact mirror, she made a silent reminder to herself to invest in some eye cream and a hair brush.

The school was eerily silent as everyone had gone home for the day, save for the caretaker who usually stayed till 7 P.M. Ellen ambled over to the coffee machine in the teacher’s lounge which was deathly quiet apart from the scuffling noises her sensible-looking faux leather pumps made on the carpet. She badly needed yet another dose of caffeine in her to keep her going for another hour at least. Those bloody reports were killing her but they had to be completed and sent to the school board before the day was over. The thought made her sigh dismally. She was only halfway through the task and it seemed like she had no alternative but to stay back even later than usual today.

It was all because of that idiot of a discipline master that she had to stay behind to churn out those urgent reports. Earlier that day, she’d had to ‘release’ two members of the faculty who had been found guilty of misbehaviour. Thinking back about the incident that happened earlier that day, Ellen felt a sudden and uncontrollable urge to laugh out loud. She wondered if she was going off her rocker for that shocking incident definitely wasn’t funny in the least. Two students in Grade 10 had discovered a home-made sex video of the school’s discipline master, Mr Paine, and an English teacher, Ms Taylor, that had somehow made its way onto the school intranet, thanks to the carelessness of Mr Paine himself. It was a raunchy and crass video which showcased the two teachers engaging in hot and torrid intercourse. It wasn’t a sight that was suitable for minors, and the video caused a major upheaval in the school. All it took was for two students to forward their discovery to their circle of friends and then for the recipients to pass them on. Before the day was through, it was estimated that half of the school had seen the disgusting video, along with an unknown number of students from other schools. There was no other way out – the two staff had to leave. It wasn’t possible for them to carry on teaching in Richfield anymore after the scandalous fiasco. There was no way students would continue to show them the same kind of respect they had before the unfortunate incident. And parents of students certainly wouldn’t approve of these adults mentoring their children. Both Edward Paine and Darlene Taylor had to be dismissed immediately and they were given the option of resigning from their positions as they both had exemplary teaching records. Ellen didn’t want to taint their resumes even more than they already were. She wasn’t sure if either of them would be able to secure themselves teaching positions in the future as the schools they apply to were bound to ask questions about why they had left their previous teaching posts, especially when they were in the middle of a school term. It wasn’t common for teachers to pack it all in suddenly; there had to be an extremely valid reason for that.

Young idiots, she chided silently as she thought of how they had ruined their teaching careers - not that they could hear her anyway, since they were probably on their way fleeing the country. There was no way she would ever allow herself to be caught up in a sex video scandal; she couldn’t think of anyone who would want her to star in their homemade video anyway.

Albeit feeling sorry for the pair of them, Ellen Borington couldn’t help but feel relieved that she wasn’t in Edward and Darlene’s shoes. She knew that she would probably commit suicide if she were in their shoes for she couldn’t imagine not working in a school ever again. Teaching was her passion – it was her sole ambition since she was a little girl - and it was all she had ever done since graduating from teaching college. She had taught in England for over 20 years before a cruel twist of fate brought her to the sunny shores of Singapore.

Moving abroad had never been in her plans, for she’d been happy and contented with her life back home. She’d worked her way up steadily - from being a junior teacher to becoming the head of an exclusive Grammar School for Girls in Brighton. She enjoyed her work immensely for teaching was her vocation. Educating young people was what she was born to do. She adored the satisfaction she derived from a hard day’s work of dealing with rambunctious adolescents and the endless problems that came along as a package. And most of all, she looked forward to going home to the quaint and cosy three-bedroom bungalow that she shared with her loving husband of eighteen years in a quiet section of Brighton. It didn’t matter that they couldn’t have children, despite trying hard for many years before finally admitting defeat, because they knew that they had each other at the end of the day. The pair had been inseparable since the day they met each other at a trendy wine bar in Soho during a mutual friend’s birthday celebration which seemed a lifetime ago now.

With you I feel I could stay, in love forever and a day, he used to sing into her ear with a tender chuckle. He had a gorgeous singing voice and enjoyed crooning sappy love songs to her, which was only one of the many things she adored about him. I’m so lucky to have you, she would tell him lovingly as she snuggled up to him, inhaling the comforting scent of his citrus aftershave.

Hugh was her first and last boyfriend and that was what made him truly special to her. She’d never desired anyone like she’d desired him. And no one but Hugh had understood Ellen the way she longed to be understood, held her the way she needed to be held, and listened to her the way she craved to be listened to. No other men had ever paid much attention to Ellen for she was not a traditionally beautiful woman by any chance. With hair an unflattering shade of mouse and a square jawline, looks had never been one of her strengths. Her six foot statuesque frame meant that she was taller than most of the men she crossed paths with, and that seemed to intimidate them to no end. To Ellen, she’d always felt that looks didn’t really matter as long as she knew that she’d a kind heart beating inside of her, and strong morals she lived by. She felt these were more important qualities for a woman to possess than a flawless face and a killer figure. Hugh was the only man who had ever looked past her plain Jane exterior and seen the true beauty in her. And so, when Hugh proposed to her after two years of courtship, Ellen was the happiest woman on the planet. And she contentedly remained the happiest woman for the following 18 years. Until that one fateful afternoon two years ago.

It was just an ordinary day, with no signs or clues to let her know that April 13 would turn out to be the worst day of her life. Had she known that, she might have chosen to stay in bed that day, not that it would’ve changed anything.

Ellen went in to work as usual and busied herself with things that had to be done. Not two hours into the work day, a monster of a headache came on, hitting her like a ton of bricks. Try as she did, she simply couldn’t foster enough concentration that morning to focus on the tasks at hand for the pain was a major distraction. The writing on the paperwork resembled ants swarming around foraging for food, and the bright glare from the computer monitor made her eyes and head hurt. She decided that going home to sleep off the headache in a bedroom with drawn shades was probably the best solution if she wanted to feel well enough to report for school the next day. She disliked pulling sickies as it was simply not in her nature to do so. Furthermore, she was afraid that the staff might gossip about her and think that she was feigning illness to get out of work early. She was extremely reluctant to concede defeat and shut down her computer but her headache was really killing her. And so she had no other alternative but to grab her purse, call it a day, and run along home.

Ellen’s head was threatening to split open by the time she unlocked the door to the red-brick bungalow. The Nurofen that she had taken earlier didn’t seem to have worked its magic on her as it usually did. She needed a lie-down - immediately.

She shuffled across to the bedroom, head throbbing painfully with every step she took. She estimated that she would have a good few hours of blissful rest before Hugh got home from work. She pushed the door open, with the intention to sink down onto the comfortable king-sized bed that was adorned with plump duck-feather pillows, and embark on a long and peaceful nap. Therefore, the last thing she was expecting to see was her husband lying on the bed – their bed – and locked in a compromising position with a blonde-haired tart who looked about twenty years his junior.

Ellen couldn’t believe her eyes. She was convinced that these were hallucinations that were brought