I leaned back in my chair, waiting my turn. Detective Feng called on Jack to speak about plans and policies for reconstruction. Jack shot me an understanding look as he came to the front. Intercepting the glance, Mary bristled. Her changed attitude cut me. She’d been so proud to offer me my job, as if it were her personal gift. I’d been proud too. I loved teaching because of the unique influence you can have on other people. Winning my first principal’s position, despite the school having only one other teacher, proved Genevieve was wrong to say I’d never be successful.

Jack asked if there were questions about planned reconstruction. Laura Price, who ran the local history society, had a strong opinion. ‘Surely you’ll prioritise? Some places are much more important than others.’

Jack asked her, calmly, to elaborate. ‘Well, the museum,’ she blustered. ‘You have to save that ahead of… the petrol station, say.’

‘People need petrol even after a fire,’ Jack reminded her. ‘To keep generators going. Not to mention, if they explode, it can be pretty catastrophic.’

Finally, just as a short break was called, Jeannie arrived, carrying a large cardboard box. She spotted me at the front and deposited the box beside my chair.

‘Are you all right? You look terrible. God, I know that’s an awful thing to say.’

‘I’m fine. This is all a bit awkward.’ What an understatement!

‘I’m sorry I’m late. Living with Mum creates difficulties. And I had photos to pick up. Any decisions been made yet?’

‘Not about the school.’

‘About something else? Thought…’

‘It doesn’t matter. There are lots of issues. People need to talk.’

Jeannie slipped to the sideboard to get me a cup of tea in a Styrofoam cup. No one else spoke to me in the fifteen minutes before Detective Feng asked everyone to reclaim their seats. He spoke again, this time without paperwork. ‘I’d also like to thank Phoebe Wharton for calling this meeting. And invite her to take the floor.’

A few people stirred. Ingrid from BuyCheap raised her hand. ‘We can hear from other school staff.’

Jeannie stood. ‘It’s important to recognise Phoebe is doing what she can. She’s the principal. It’s her job to steer the way.’

I stood, embarrassed. Perhaps maintaining my status in the community would help people think more positively of Caleb. I shared the plans I’d been making. The Education Department had already promised to deliver a relocatable classroom. School would resume in four days. Meanwhile, children would be welcomed at nearby schools if they wanted to go.

I suggested that next week, parents whose houses had survived might bring in tables and chairs. Power could be supplied immediately, though we’d have to wait for water. Children would miss out on practical art and science lessons, but would be together. Life would get back to something like normal.