The Headmaster Read Online Free

Gwen Ashby.”
    “Hello, Miss Ashby,” Christopher said. “You’re not married, are you?”
    Headmaster Yorke answered the question for her by putting his hand on Christopher’s head and pushing him back through the doorway. Laird’s head popped through the door.
    “Have you ever read
Ivanhoe?
” Laird asked.
    “I’m afraid not.”
    “Oh, thank God,” Laird sighed with obvious profound relief. He pointed his thumb at the headmaster. “He’s made us read it six times.”
    The headmaster glared at Laird so hard that Laird seemed to shrink back into himself.
    “No more
Ivanhoe
please,” he mouthed as he disappeared back through the door.
    “You have very interesting students,” Gwen said. “I like them.”
    “I don’t.”
    “Liar,” came Laird’s voice from behind the door.
    Behind his glasses, Headmaster Yorke looked up at the ceiling.
    “Is it still illegal to kill students in America?” he asked.
    “I’m afraid so, yes.”
    “I’ll simply have to risk it. Come with me to my office, Miss Ashby.”
    “Yes, I will. Thanks for asking.”
    He arched his eyebrow at her.
    “I was pretending you asked me, instead of ordering me.”
    “But you are coming to my office.”
    “Yes, since you asked so nicely.”
    He looked at her, turned on his heel and stalked down the hall.
    She knew he expected her to follow him so she paused, counted to three and then followed him. The sun was sinking but hadn’t set quite yet, and long slants of golden light poured in through the windows in the school building and set everything alight. The floors, walls and windows looked like they were on fire with so much sunlight, and ahead of her the headmaster cast a long shadow that she stepped into as he led her up the winding stairs.
    They came to a room that was likely Headmaster Yorke’s office. He had a grand desk and large leather chair and windows behind him that would allow him to look down onto his school. And books, so many books in his office. Shelf after shelf of leather-bound volumes. No paperbacks. Not a one. This man took his library seriously.
    He gestured to a chair in front of his desk and she sat down. He took his seat in his high-back leather chair, steepled his hands in front of his chest and stared at her.
    “You won’t like it here,” he said. “I strongly encourage you to leave.”
    “Is this how you start all job interviews?”
    “Yes.”
    “Is this like that scene in
Fight Club
where you tell me to leave and I get the job only if I stay?”
    “The scene in what?”
    “
Fight Club
? The movie? Ever seen it?”
    “I’m a busy man, Miss Ashby. I don’t waste time on popular entertainment.”
    “I’ll adjust my references accordingly then. Look, Mr. Yorke, I—”
    He raised his hand to silence here.
    “I realize you’re seeking employment, and I respect that,” he said. “But it would require an enormous sacrifice from you to become a teacher at this school. I left my home country years ago and have never returned. The students are here year-round. We work year-round. We teach year-round. We have everything we need here at the school, and we rarely leave the grounds. You would be required to commit yourself to this school as we have. Whatever life you have outside the walls of the school, you would have to give it up to remain here.”
    “I appreciate your concern, but it’s safe to say I have no life outside the walls of this school. Having a life inside the walls of this school would be one more life than I have right now.”
    “I find it hard to believe that a lovely young woman such as yourself has no life.”
    “I don’t have any family anymore except for grandparents I don’t see very often. I had to switch colleges my freshman year after my dad died, and I lost all my friends in the process. I had a boyfriend. He moved to Africa to teach in a village there. When I tell you my entire life is in that car I wrecked trying to not kill a deer? I mean it.” She paused a moment.