Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [97]
‘Wrong. It’s dead simple raising a kid. A man just follows the tenets of the Bible and the principles of a free democracy.’
‘There could be a lot of worse starting points,’ said Pangbourne. ‘I’d certainly agree with you about the free democracy.’
‘Dead simple,’ repeated the small man. He had that annoying tendency of some old people to simply ignore what you said and plough ahead with their own conversation.
Talking to such people was less a dialogue than two monologues which wouldn’t connect. ‘What makes it not so simple is people at schools teaching godless heresies in an attempt to undermine morality.’
‘We’re not here to undermine anything, Mr Leemark.
Scopes High School specializes in bright kids and problem kids. Some of them, like Wolf, are both.’
‘Don’t use that name for my son. He’s called Christian.
Christian Leemark.’
‘I can’t say it’s a name he seems to relish,’ said Pangbourne.
‘You just shut up and listen,’ said the old man squirming angrily in his chair. ‘I understand you’ve got some kind of gook teaching in this school.’
Pangbourne’s own anger was barely in control. He could feel the meeting spinning out of control. He forced a smile.
‘Well I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed there. “Gook” is a corruption of a Japanese word for Korean people. And we’re not lucky enough to have any Korean teachers on our staff at the moment.’
‘Well who’s this bald-headed monkey-man you’ve got working here?’
‘The Buddhist monk, you mean?’
‘That’s right.’
‘He’s as American as you or I.’
‘Speak for yourself. He may be as American as you but he’s sure as hell not as American as me, sonny.’
Pangbourne found his artificial smile finally fading from his face.
‘Swishing around your school dressed up in a woman’s robe,’ continued the old man. ‘Is he some kind of fairy?’
‘You seem to be drifting off the point here,’ said Pangbourne. He spoke in a blunt tone of voice, no longer making any attempt to be civil. It was the first sincere thing he’d said since Wolf’s father had begun to rave at him, and it seemed to grab the old man’s attention.
‘Eh?’ he said. ‘What’s that?’
‘Well, pappy. I just think you should make your mind up whether you’re being xenophobic or homophobic.’
Pangbourne grinned at him, his own country accent growing stronger now as he let his anger and contempt show. ‘I can help you with the long words if you like, pappy.’
The old man stared at him, his dark eyes bright as a bird’s. ‘How are these for long words,’ he said. ‘Atheistic, godless, unpatriotic, corruptor of youth.’ A small fleck of saliva had gathered at the corner of the old man’s mouth. He wiped it away with his sleeve. ‘Don’t deny it. You are teaching foreign religions, false faiths.’
Did you say something about corrupting youth?’ asked Pangbourne calmly.
‘That’s right. Indoctrinating them with blasphemous heresies.’
‘Well, how’s this for corrupting youth?’ Pangbourne opened his desk drawer and rummaged in it. He repressed the urge to grab a cigarette and instead removed a sheet of paper, a computer print-out.
Francis Leemark watched him closely as he drew the piece of paper out and read from it.
‘“Numerous subcutaneous wounds and extensive bruising, difficult to detect visually because subject received repeated beatings with a large wire object, most likely a clothes hanger. Despite the obvious painful nature of the injuries the child denies that anything unusual has happened to him. He refuses to say who might be responsible for said injuries”.’
Pangbourne put the paper back in his drawer and flicked a cool gaze up at the old man. ‘That report was filed by a social worker over ten years ago. I guess Wolf would have been, what? Six and a half, seven years old?’
‘My boy’s not called Wolf. His proper name is Christian.
Christian Leemark.’
Now Pangbourne met the old man’s fierce dark gaze and held it. The two men looked into each other’s eyes.
Pangbourne’s stare was unwavering and finally the old man looked away, twisting his mouth in an expression of disgust.
‘Don’t you have anything