Chapter Four
A/N: Most of the dialogue in this chapter is taken from the movie.
"Miss Brodie! Please come in," Miss Mackay said. "Won't you take a seat?" she said, gesturing to the seat in front of her desk. Jean took the chair that was offered to her.
"Now, Miss Brodie," Miss Mackay said, smiling nastily. "You are fired for spreading Fascism among your pupils."
Jean's mouth dropped open and her heart seemed to stop for a moment, but she rallied her defences, standing up from her seat. "Miss Mackay, since you were first appointed headmistress of Marcia Blaine you have done nothing but try to dismiss me from the teaching staff. You have tried every feeble excuse, even that of immorality, and failed. Now you are accusing me of preaching politics to my pupils. Such a continuous personal vendetta is hardly conducive to the dignity of your position," she declared.
"Miss Brodie, I don't think you quite understand," Miss Mackay said, with obvious enjoyment. "Let me make the situation perfectly clear. It is not I, but the Board of Governors who have pursued this investigation to its conclusion. And it is the Board of Governors who, after having given due consideration to the grave charges laid against you, have given instructions that you leave this school immediately and that your classes be taken over tomorrow morning by another teacher. The Board has asked me to convey to you the fact that your salary will be paid in full until the end of the term which, under the circumstances, is more than generous. Miss Brodie, there is nothing more to be said."
"I shall not accept the Board's action," Miss Brodie stated. "I shall petition. I shall put the question before the public, before the parents, and the student body. You will find, Miss Mackay, that I have the loyalty of my girls." She left Miss Mackay's office, and had made it to the door leading to the hallway, when Miss Mackay called out after her,
"Do you, Miss Brodie?"
Jean looked at her, confused, and fled to her classroom. On the way to her classroom, she passed the staff room, and saw Gordon and Miss Lockhart standing at the piano, while the rest of the teaching staff stood around them.
"For they are jolly good fellows, for they are jolly good fellows, for they are jolly good fellows, which nobody can deny!" The teaching staff applauded.
"Come now, Lowther, give us a song!" one of the teachers called out, and Gordon smiled, sitting down at the piano.
"Why, Miss Brodie, aren't you coming to the common room?" the gym teacher asked.
"Common room?" Jean replied faintly.
"The celebration honouring Miss Lockhart and Mr. Lowther."
Gordon began to play and sing. "My love is like a red, red rose..."
Jean began to walk towards her classroom again, her heart aching. Gordon used to sing that song to her – it had been their song.
"Aren't you coming, Miss Brodie?" the gym teacher called after her.
Jean turned around. "I'll... I'll be there shortly."
As she continued the walk to her classroom, Gordon's voice echoed in the corridors.
"...in June. Oh, my love is like a melody, that's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonny lass, so deep in love am I..."
Jean entered her classroom and leaned against the wall for a moment before she sensed someone watching her. Gordon's voice still echoed in her ears.
"And I will love thee still, my dear..."
Jean turned around and saw Sandy standing there. She turned on the lights.
"Sandy." Jean walked to her desk. "Sandy." She rested her hands on her desk, her back to Sandy. "I believe, Sandy..." she trailed off. "I believe I am past my prime. I had reckoned on my prime lasting... till I was at least... fifty." She raised her head slightly, her back still to Sandy. "Are you listening, Sandy?" she asked.
"I'm listening, Miss Brodie," Sandy replied calmly.
Jean turned around. "I have been dismissed from Marcia Blaine. I am accused of teaching treason and sedition to my students. I am being transported for radicalism, like Thomas Muir of Huntershill. But if Miss Mackay and her conspirators expect that I shall meekly lay my head on their chopping block, they're in for a wee surprise.
"What will you do?" Sandy asked.
"As I informed Miss Mackay, I will resort to public petition. I have no doubt that many supporters will rally to my defence. My students are loyal. My girls..." she trailed off. "Someone betrayed me, Sandy. Someone spoke against me to the board. Who could it have been? Who?"
"Are you thinking that maybe one of your girls betrayed you?" Sandy asked her.
"I said to Miss Mackay, 'I have the loyalty of my girls,' and she said, 'Do you?'" Jean took a deep breath. "I'll not believe it. I'll not believe it was one of my girls."
"Perhaps it's true," Sandy suggested.
Jean turned to her. "I thought possibly Monica. There's very little soul..."
"Monica is a loyal girl," Sandy interrupted her.
"I know," Jean said. "You all are. Monica and Jenny. Oh, not Jenny. She's like a part of myself," Jean trailed off, smiling softly at the thought of Jenny. "You, Sandy... as you see, you are exempt from all suspicion. You have had more of my confidence than anyone. You know more that anyone what I have sacrificed for my girls. Teddy Lloyd is greatly in love with me, Sandy, as I think you have always known. And I gave him up for so many years to consecrate my life to the young girls in my care... you and Monica and Jenny. Jenny... I had wanted her to be Teddy's lover..."
Sandy interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. "Do you think you are Providence? That you can ordain love?"
"What?" Jean asked her, startled.
"You haven't pulled it off. Jenny will not be Teddy Lloyd's lover," Sandy stated firmly.
"I know," Jean said, smiling slightly, which only served to fan the flames of Sandy's anger.
"Jenny will not be Teddy Lloyd's lover and I'll not be your spy, your secret service."
"My spy? What on earth are you talking about?" Jean asked her. "Do you understand at all what has happened to me? I have been dismissed from Marcia Blaine!" she shouted. "Why are you standing there talking about Providence and the secret service? What is the matter with you?"
"Miss Brodie, I am Teddy's lover," Sandy said.
"You were Teddy's lover," Jean corrected her.
"What?" Sandy exclaimed.
"You were Teddy's lover," Jean repeated. "But he told me that you ended it. And now Teddy and I are engaged," she finished, showing Sandy the ring Teddy had given her yesterday.
"What?" Sandy exclaimed again. "But he's married!"
"No," Jean said. "No, he's not. His wife applied for and was granted an annulment; she has returned to Ireland with their children."
"How could you take him from me?" Sandy shrieked.
"How dare you speak to me in this manner?" Jean exclaimed.
"I suppose I've always known that one day you were going to ask how dare I?" Sandy said.
"Why? I don't understand. I don't seem to understand what has happened to everyone. Where has everyone gone?" Jean asked faintly, wandering to the window.
"Only Mary is gone," Sandy said.
"Mary? What has Mary to do with it?" Jean asked her testily.
"Miss Brodie, Mary McGregor is dead!" Sandy exclaimed. "Are you aware of the order of importance in which you place your anxieties? One, you have been betrayed; two, who has betrayed you; and three, Mary's death. Miss Brodie, aren't you concerned at all with Mary's death?"
"I grieve for Mary," Jean replied.
"It was because of you she went!" Sandy spat out.
"Because of me? It was her brother. The poor, unfortunate girl hadn't anyone else in the world," Jean said.
"She had you. That was her misfortune!" Sandy exclaimed. "To please you, that silly, stupid girl ran off and got herself killed! Don't you feel responsible for that?" Sandy shrieked.
"No," Jean said. "No, I feel responsible for giving her ideals... the ideals that sent her to Spain. I feel responsible for teaching her that service to a cause is a privilege."
"You call it a privilege to be killed? And for nothing. Nothing!" Sandy exclaimed.
"You really are a shallow girl, Sandy," Jean told her. "By the way she died, Mary McGregor illumined her life. She died a heroine."
"She died a fool!" Sandy shouted. "Joining her brother to fight for Franco... wasn't that just like Mary?" Sandy sneered before drawing out her trump card. "Her brother is fighting for the other side."
"Her brother..." Jean repeated faintly.
"Her brother is fighting for the Republicans!" Sandy exclaimed triumphantly. "Mary was headed for the wrong army!"
"Oh, Mary McGregor!" Jean cried out exasperatedly.
"Mary McGregor," Sandy repeated. "I used to wonder why you always called Mary by her full name. I think it was because you had such a hard time remembering who she was. Poor, dim Mary," Sandy said condescendingly.
"I was devoted to Mary," Jean stated.
"No, you were only attracted to Mary because she had no one else and she was so totally suggestible. She appealed to your vanity!" Sandy dealt her master-stroke.
"It was you who betrayed me!" Jean exclaimed.
"I didn't betray you! I simply put a stop to you!" Sandy defended herself.
Jean turned away from her. "Oh, I see," she said faintly.
"No, you don't see," Sandy said. "You don't see that you're not good for people."
"In what way?" Jean asked. "In what way, Sandy, was I not good for you?" she questioned her.
"You are dangerous, and unwholesome, and children should not be exposed to you!" she exclaimed.
"How can you think it?" Jean asked her. "How can you think that I would harm you?"
"But you have – you have harmed me!"
"How?" Jean asked her desperately.
"You have murdered Mary!" cried Sandy.
"You have assassinated me!" Jean shrieked.
"Oh, why must you always strike attitudes?" asked Sandy haughtily. "You really are a ridiculous woman!" Jean turned away from her, tears in her eyes, and Sandy suddenly became remorseful. "What will you do... now?" she asked her former teacher sympathetically.
Jean turned to her. "Do?" she asked faintly. "I don't know." Her voice gained strength as she went on. "But I am a descendant, do not forget, of Willie Brodie. He was a man of substance, a cabinetmaker and a designer of gibbets, a member of the town council of Edinburgh; the keeper of two mistresses who bore him five children between them. Blood tells. He played much dice and fighting cocks. Eventually, he was a wanted man for having robbed the excise office. Not that he needed the money. He was a burglar for the sake of the danger. He died cheerfully on a gibbet of his own devising in 1788. That is the stuff I am made of," she finished, her spirits higher than they had been when she had entered the room.
"I knew you would rise like a phoenix," Sandy said. "I'm glad I shall not have to worry about you."
"No, I expect that is to be your gift, Sandy – to kill without concern," she said. "It is you who are dangerous. You see yourself as a conqueror, don't you, Sandy? Kaiserian in all his beauty rare," she accused her former student.
"But you profess to be a great admirer of conquerors," Sandy stated. "Good-bye, Miss Brodie," she bade her former teacher farewell and left the classroom.
Jean stood there for a moment before rushing after her. Sandy was already halfway down the hall, and Jean clutched the banister, staring after her. "Assassin!" she screamed. "Assassin!" Her cries echoed through the corridors, and Teddy stuck his head out of his classroom, but Sandy did not turn around. Jean collapsed in a heap at the top of the stairs, not even noticing Teddy running towards her.
"Jean!" he cried. "Oh, Jean, what happened?" he asked her, taking her in his arms.
"I have been betrayed," she sobbed. "Sandy betrayed me! I have been dismissed from Marcia Blaine!" she cried.
Teddy did his best to soothe her, but he did not know what to say. All he could do was hold her, stroke her hair, and whisper of his love. Eventually she regained control of herself, and got to her feet.
"I need to pack up my things," she whispered.
He nodded. "I'll get crate for your things," he murmured, giving her a light kiss on her mouth, watching as she entered her room. He went back to his classroom and got an empty crate before hurrying back to her classroom.
She had taken down her print of one of Giotto's frescoes and had gathered the rest of her personal belongings together in a pile on her desk. She turned to him as he entered the room, and he crossed the distance between them in a few strides, setting the crate down on her desk and embracing her.
"Oh Jean, Jean," he whispered in her ear. "We'll get through this – I know we can."
She began to sob again. "How, Teddy, how?"
"I'm going to tender my resignation," he told her. "I have money, we won't have to find other jobs – I can open an exhibition."
"You would resign for me?" she asked, sniffling.
"Of course I will," he soothed her.
"Thank you, Teddy," she said. She stepped out of his embrace and placed her things in the crate Teddy had brought for her. When she had finished, he picked up the crate and walked with her downstairs. She placed the crate on the back of her bicycle, and they walked back to her flat.
They brought the crate of her things upstairs to her flat, and she began to unpack her things, while Teddy began to draft his letter of resignation.
"To whom it may concern: I, Teddy Lloyd, will not be renewing my contract at the end of this term. I have enjoyed working at Marcia Blaine, and am grateful for the many good years I have spent here. Sincerely, Teddy Lloyd."
Jean had finished unpacking her things, and she returned to the kitchen. He read the letter to her.
"Teddy, thank you for resigning for me," she whispered, sitting down in his lap and twining her arms around his neck.
"I would do anything for you, Jean," he told her. "Anything. I love you."
"And I love you, Teddy," she replied, snuggling against his chest.
"Why don't we go to bed, my love?" he suggested. "You've had a long day."
"All right," she agreed, allowing him to lead her to her bedroom. She stripped off her clothes, as did he, and they got under the covers. He held her tightly to him.
"Let's get married this weekend," he whispered. "I cannot wait any longer to be your husband."
"All right," she agreed.
"We can live in my house," he said, and she nodded against his chest.
"I don't care where we live, Teddy, as long as I'm with you," she told him.
He kissed her forehead. "I love you so much, Jean," he said. "You are my life."
"And you are mine," she whispered. "You are mine."
