At 2.35 p.m. Keith sat dutifully outside the headmistress's office. He was nervous but calm. He felt somewhat optimistic concerning the outcome, and was relieved that the time had arrived for his interview with the Headmistress. He knew that he had not acted improperly towards these girls, and he also knew that, throughout his life he had never had a bad mark against his character, so why would anybody believe him to be bad now?

The corridor he was sitting in was completely empty of pupils at this time of the day. It was quiet and eerie with distant sounds emanating from the classrooms. The name on the door read Mrs. Carole Borland. Keith focused on this name wishing it to be the name of a man, feeling that, if it were a man he was seeing, then the outcome was much more likely to be favourable.

Suddenly, the door opened and the headmistress asked Keith to come in. Mrs. Borland, at 37, was young for a headmistress. Keith doubted that she really had enough experience of life to deal with this particular situation. High achievement at university hardly prepares a person to deal with complex issue such as this. She was at least inquisitive of his health before breaking the news. 'Obviously,' she began, 'we've had to look at this matter very seriously and, finally, we've come to a decision'. She sat back in her chair before continuing, 'Now, these allegations against you; we haven't been able to prove them as being true, or false. We've only got the girls' word for it. So you'll be pleased to hear that you will not be sacked, dismissed, because of this unpleasant business......'

'Thank God.' Keith interrupted without proper thought.

'However,' she resumed without a flicker of a smile, 'I'm afraid we are going to have to let you go. You'll be made redundant.'

'Redundant!' gasped Keith, 'Never!'

'Oh Keith,' she sighed, 'If we weren't a school, if we didn't have to consider that parents have to make choices, if it was up to me, then you'd stay. But as it is, we have to consider our intake, and we're not a school that can afford any such scandal. I really am most terribly sorry to let you go, but my hands are tied, I have no choice.'

'Notice? Money?' Keith asked coldly.

'You've had enough of an ordeal, you don't have to work any notice, and you'll receive a good redundancy package'. She said, pushing a brown A4 sized envelope towards Keith. 'I think you'll find everything has been dealt with.'

Keith struggled; his emotions juggled and vied for release. He had to say something; something of how he felt, of what he thought. At the same time he couldn't just say exactly what he thought, believed or felt. He held back for a further moment to gain full composure, because the last thing he wanted to do was breakdown and weep in front of the Headmistress.

'Why couldn't you have been discreet?' He blurted out. 'You could have done your enquiries without telling the whole world. Why do you make redundancy and sacking look like the same thing?' He took in a sharp breath and blew it out to calm himself. 'You're acting as if you're doing me a favour, but your abusing me that's what your doing'. Again he needed to stop and breathe. 'I can't protect myself from this abuse, and I don't even know what the hell I'm supposed to have sodding well done!' Keith had to stop there. There was a lot more he wanted to say but to protect his dignity he couldn't. He was just too emotional.

'I'm really sorry Keith; it's the best I can do, and I'll be glad to give you a reference.'

'We both know I'm not likely to get another job now, and we both know what will be in that reference of yours.'

'Sorry Keith, I can't change the past.'

At that, Keith felt his blood boil in anger, and he found a new strength to continued talking.

'But that is exactly what you've done with your cunning, conniving ways. You've taken my past as a dedicated, caring man and given me this fabricated past of a dubious character with these dark, sinister shadows of child abuse hanging over me, that's what you've done. You know me for God's sake. You know that's not right. I thought you were better than this!'

Keith couldn't take any more; he just couldn't bring himself to listen to anything else that this woman might have to say. In the back of his head the words rang out - if she had given those girls the same books, she would have got a medal, people would say she had gone the extra mile. Keith knew it was hopeless. He knew he'd been victimised. With the back of his legs he pushed hard against his chair and stood-up abruptly. Picking-up the envelope with his redundancy details in it he strode towards the door muttering; 'Sod's law, that's what it is, Sod's bloody law'. He closed the door behind him.