THE FRIENDLY WOLF

THE FRIENDLY WOLF  

January 

I first see her standing outside the school gates. Her hungry-looking blue eyes glaze over at me under large spectacles. Her big, smiling white teeth show sweet concern. I am sure most of the world would have found her a charming, sweet, gentle woman. But even in that first instant, my intuition screams a multitude of red flags. I long to pick up Josh and flee, even though he is becoming too heavy to carry. I groan inwardly as she walks towards us. 

I never like talking to anyone after a crazy, busy night shift at the local nursing home. My lack of sleep has left me feeling jet-lagged. I pull my big red coat closer to protect myself from the blustery wind and something else I cannot fathom. 

The woman leads me to her office. She paints a picture of tidy innocence in her ivy-white, silk blouse and skirt, laced with pink flowers. 

‘Are you Josh’s mum?’ she asks softly. I nod politely. ‘I tried to catch you earlier but you had already left,’ she says. Her head cocks to the side as if waiting for a response. A bit like a coyote does when considering how to hunt its prey. A distinct whiff of peppermint lingers around her. It is a smell I have always disliked. I am not sure why. 

‘I am Mrs Tutler, the new education welfare officer. I am afraid that there has been some concern that your son Josh is not meeting the school attendance expectations.’ Another uncomfortable silence. 

‘Is everything okay at home?’ she asks. I think of Josh. A happy, quiet little boy, sensitive with a penchant for losing things. 

‘Yes!’ I say, surprised she should ask. A rush of concern hits me, the thought that Josh might be being bullied by other children. He was only in his first year of primary school. I didn’t expect this. Surely that sort of thing didn't happen until much later on. 

‘He is not being picked on, is he?’ 

‘Oh no. Nothing like that. I am pleased to say he has made a few friends. He has children to play with during breaks. Yes, he is settling down nicely.’ 

I breathe a sigh of relief. But she has more to say. 

‘However, I have noticed you have not participated in the school WhatsApp group. Have you had a chance to connect with the other parents? It's very helpful, you know.’ 

I politely explain that I have not yet had the chance to join online groups or get to know the other parents/caregivers. We had only moved to the area a few weeks ago. I had been working my way through unpacking boxes and all the other stuff that comes with moving. Joining the group was the next thing on my to-do list. Mrs Tutler studies me intensely, then she asks the leading question. 

‘Do you have any support with Josh at home?’ 

The feeling of fight or flight instantly triggers me as if someone has just set fire to my clothes. I freeze on the spot. Having seen this question played out in TV dramas many times, with it never ending well. Why would she ask me this? I was not about to tell her that I was struggling with the overwhelming tiredness of juggling Josh and working night shifts in a busy nursing home so that I could pay my bills. Or that Josh’s father was barely on speaking terms since our separation last year. Yet we somehow managed to muddle along for the sake of Josh. 

‘Josh mentioned to his teacher that you work at night and he goes to stay with his father until you can pick him up in the morning?’ The friendly wolf inquires as if reading my thoughts. I answer her question politely enough yet wonder why she has to ask such intrusive questions. Then Mrs Tutler smiles. I don't know if it was my imagination, but her teeth appear brighter and more canine-like than before. 

‘Very well. Thanks for speaking with me. I will show you the way out. Please make sure Josh is on time from now on,’ she says in a fake, phony voice. 

I walk through the playground feeling a heavy weight on my shoulders. The scene that had just happened plays over in my mind. I question my parenting abilities. Am I a bad parent? I know I am not always on time, but most of the time it was due to situations outside of my control, be it traffic or Josh’s father running late. Even though life had been difficult lately, I did my best to parent Josh to the best of my ability, making sure he was always happy, clean, and well-fed. There was something about Mrs Tutler that unnerved me, with her watchful eyes and her canine-like smile. It drew on me that she resembled a wolf pretending to be friendly in sheep's clothing. Acting helpful and nice, when really it was like she was trying to catch me out in some way. I know it sounds paranoid, but from now on I will make sure I take Josh to school extra early. 

Two weeks later 

Today Josh was 3 minutes late for school. As usual, I had organised his clean school uniform, ready for the next day. However, somewhere between picking Josh up from his father's house and driving him back to mine, he managed to lose his school shoes. In the end, I had to send him to school in a pair of trainers. I was so anxious about the friendly wolf approaching us that I became impatient with Josh, something I always promised myself I would never do. 

Unfortunately, I was right. There she was, standing in her usual place outside the school gates. The same wolfish grin, already writing notes on her clipboard. She looks down at Josh's trainers. 

‘What is the reason for his lateness?’ 

‘He left his school shoes at his father's house.’ 

What else could I say? I was too tongue-tied to explain that I was positive he had started with them. He had a penchant for losing things. I did not sleep that day. I spent the whole day going over the damn awful situation. I received flashbacks from all our encounters so far. Her wolfish face wouldn’t leave my mind's eye. The scent of peppermint lingered all around me, carrying a sense of doom. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling off or the scent off. 

The next day 

The next morning, the friendly wolf is waiting for us once more. I am not sure why; we are on time. I stand tall and look her square in the eyes. I must not let this woman intimidate me any longer. I have nothing to worry about. I am a good parent. The friendly wolf looks down at Josh. 

‘Why is Jack’s coat unfastened? Where are his scarf and gloves? It is the coldest day of the year.’ 

I stare at Josh in despair. How had he managed to undress himself in such a short time? His coat hangs halfway down his shoulder. His scarf and gloves are nowhere to be seen. I had kept a watchful eye on him for the whole journey, insisting he kept his coat on despite him saying he felt too hot. He must have taken it off when I passed an invitation slip to his classmates’ parents. I try to get my words out. I am now beyond frustrated with both Josh and the friendly wolf, who is writing on her clipboard once more. All I can do is apologise. 

‘Sorry, it won’t happen again.’ 

On the way out of the entrance, I see Mr Smith the school caretaker with Josh’s winter garments. I rush to claim them. 

‘Thanks, Miss,’ he says in a hearty London accent. ‘Saves me time taking them down to lost property.’ 

Mrs Tutler’s interaction with a bunch of excitable children draws our attention. Her generic genteel voice has melted away. Instead, what came out of her mouth sounded like a growl. 

‘Single file now!’ 

‘More like single parents file,’ quips Mr Smith as he walks by chuckling to himself. 

I wonder what he means by this comment, then I get a sense of being watched. I slowly look over my shoulder to see Mrs Tutler. Head cocked to one side. 

Her expression, sly as a wolf trying to find its way into a chicken's pen. 

That night I dream Josh and I are walking in the school alleyway. There is no one else around. The sky is gloomy. I try to hurry Josh along to get to class, but his feet become stuck in quicksand. I try to pull him out. I look up to find Mrs Tutler hungrily eyeing Josh up in the form of a wolf. Her teeth are bigger and shinier than ever before. Josh 

starts to sink into the quicksand. I try to pull him out. The friendly wolf charges towards us. She picks Josh out of the quicksand by her teeth, carrying him off, leaving a trail of red blood on the pathway. 

February 

It is a frozen, icy morning. A lot of families are running late. But Josh and I manage to arrive before the school bell. I give myself a proverbial pat on the back. I kiss Josh goodbye, then I chat with a couple of people I have recently got to know on the school run. Mr Smith waves across at us as he drives past on his salt spreader. Overall, a tranquil start to the morning. Then I spot the friendly wolf making her way towards me. 

Oh no, what now? Would it be too late to walk away pretending I hadn’t noticed her? She had left us alone for a while. I presumed that I had done enough to put her off my scent. I was actively engaging in the WhatsApp group. I was doing everything expected of me and more. So, there was no reason whatsoever for her to be approaching me. 

The friendly wolf leads me to her office. 

‘Take a seat, Miss Monaghan. I wanted to speak to you because we are concerned about your son Josh.’ 

‘How exactly do you mean?’ 

‘Josh seems to be struggling with some aspects of his behaviour. And we are aware that you have not been coping well as a single parent for some time. We feel you may need some support from other agencies that can come in and intervene where needed.’ 

‘That’s not true. Josh’s father and I work hard together to make sure all of Josh's needs are met. I also have my parents who are always there if I need anything.’ 

‘Josh mentioned that they live far away from you and that he only gets to see them during the holidays.’ 

‘He talks to them a lot through screen time. Nearly every day. They play games... all sorts of activities.’ 

I try to compose myself, yet I am trembling inside, horrified that the friendly wolf would insinuate that Josh’s home life was anything but loving. I leap up from my chair. 

‘I need to speak with Josh’s teacher. The last time we met, she appeared quite satisfied with Josh’s progress. I never sensed any concerns about his wellbeing from her.’ 

‘That is not possible. She is currently off sick. However, I can schedule a meeting with the new headteacher, Mr Rose, if you wish.’ A headteacher I had never encountered? This unsettled me deeply. I was beginning to understand the tactics of the friendly wolf by now. She was likely to feed any nonsense into his mind. There was a possibility he might actually believe her without ever getting to form a true opinion for himself. 

‘Mr Rose and I have already agreed it is vital at this stage to involve other agencies regarding Josh’s behaviour. So, we can assess him closely and make a plan on how it is best to approach the situation at hand.’ Great, so she had already approached Mr Rose with her concerns. 

‘Mrs Tutler, with respect, I have done everything you have asked of me and more since Josh has started this school. Josh is an extremely happy little boy. I have lots of people to vouch for this. I can’t understand why you are trying to find problems when there isn’t any.’ 

The friendly wolf gleefully pulls out a chunky document from a drawer. There are too many pages to read all at once. The file is heavy. I skim numerous entries about Josh’s lateness. He had never been late that many times. It was like she had multiplied each incident by seven. Embellishments of all the encounters we had ever experienced with the friendly wolf. Like the occasion Josh came to school wearing trainers. Then the incident when Josh felt hot, so threw all his winter clothes on the floor. I could not believe what I was reading. 

Josh arrived at school today with his coat unfastened, no scarf or gloves. Josh complained of feeling very cold. Taken to the school nurse to help with warming up. Provided with a hot drink. 

She had taken a grain of truth and built it on a foundation of lies. Fabrication after fabrication. I put the document down in horror. 

‘Please don’t be alarmed, Miss Monaghan. We have to record every interaction both with Josh and yourself,’ Mrs Tutler beams. Her gleaming smile reminds me of the dream I had a few weeks ago. The one where she transformed into a wolf, taking Josh away with her teeth. Also, I recall the strange comment from the caretaker the morning we witnessed Mrs Tutler losing her cool with a group of children. ‘More like single parent files.’ I had reflected on this remark a lot. I could only figure it out to mean that Mrs Tutler liked to target single-parent families. Like what she seemed to be doing with me. My being a single parent certainly seemed to bring something out in her. Maybe Mr Smith had figured her out, watched her play her games with other families, tried to split them apart. If I had genuinely believed that Josh needed help for his behaviour, I would have asked for support. But this was all a lie. I gestured towards the file. 

‘This is wrong. I have done everything you have asked of me and you are still trying to find issues with Josh and me. Kindly leave us alone. We are fine. We do not need any help.’ At this point, there was no other option but to be blunt. Maybe if I had been direct from the start, this situation would never have happened. This woman would not be satisfied until she had taken Josh away from his family. She must get some type of sick pleasure from this type of thing. I knew this from the depth of my being. I walk out of the office, confused, wondering how to prevent this dreadful situation from spiralling even further out of control. I need time and space to think. I reach the end of the winding corridor; I pause briefly to figure out the large green button I need to press to exit the building. After a moment, I finally manage to activate it. I quickly make my way through the school gates towards the alleyway that leads out of the playground. A knot of anxiety hits my stomach. I hear her distinctive voice calling me; she is not far behind, I can sense it. 

‘Miss Monaghan, please come back. I haven't finished yet.’ I quicken my pace; I hear her footsteps draw closer. Surely it must be challenging for her to keep up; I am tall and walk quickly, plus I used to ice skate regularly, which gives me an advantage on icy paths. She is definitely closing the gap. It won’t be long before she completely catches me up. It's unsettling that the friendly wolf is crazy enough to chase after me, but not as much at the thought of her taking Josh away. Do I break into a full-on sprint or turn around and face her? She is the last person I want to talk to. I need time away from the situation to reflect and talk to my family. I think about slowing down, knowing I would eventually have to speak with her anyway. Then the decision is made for me. 

A short distance behind me, there is a thud followed by a cry of anguish. I instinctively turn to see what has happened. The friendly wolf is lying on the ground, her body twisted in an unusual position. She must have slipped on black ice. I trudge towards her. Several droplets of blood lie near her head area. Her pupils are black and dilated. 

‘Are you okay? Need any help?’ 

‘Of course, I’m not okay. I can’t feel a thing,’ she cries out in frustration. Her voice all hoarse and brutal again, like the time Mr Smith and I saw her telling the group of children to get into single file. 

I pull out my phone to ring an ambulance. Then I place my red coat over her like a blanket to help keep her warm. She retaliates with fury. 

‘I need to let the school know you have fallen. I will be back in a moment.’ 

‘What the hell are you doing, you idiot? Shame you don’t put a coat on your son. Get off me!’ She stares at me without blinking. ‘You know I despise people like you.’ 

‘People like who?’ I ask. The friendly wolf closes her eyes and refuses to acknowledge me. I would love to tell her exactly how difficult she has made my life over the last few months, then walk away and leave her. But instead, the care worker in me takes over. I wonder if her rude behaviour is due to a concussion. 

‘Mrs Tutler, please! I’m trying to help you.’ The friendly wolf's broad, shining teeth have emerged into a grimace, making her seem more wolf-like than ever. She evokes images of those quirky Victorian paintings featuring animals in human clothing. Then I notice that part of her stomach area is exposed. Where there should be skin, there is only fur. I would like to say I'm surprised, but I have always suspected. From the very first day I met her. She covers up. Now she knows I know her secret. She tries to hit out at me. I dodge her. 

Mr Smith sees us. He spots Mrs Tutler on the floor, jumps off his machine and comes running towards us. He bends over her, blocking my view with his bulky frame. 

‘Mrs Tutler, what's happened? Can you move your neck?’ 

‘I can’t feel anything. Get me up.’ 

And then something strange happens. I hear a loud snapping noise. Similar to the sound at Christmas when pulling crackers. Mr Smith chuckles darkly. An ambulance siren in the background. When the caretaker finally moves out of the way, the ‘friendly wolf’s’ head is twisted in the opposite way it was before. Blood trickling out of her mouth and nose.

January

I first see her standing outside the school gates. Her hungry-looking blue eyes glaze over at me under large spectacles. Her big, smiling white teeth show sweet concern. I am sure most of the world would have found her a charming, sweet, gentle woman. But even in that first instant, my intuition screams a multitude of red flags. I long to pick up Josh and flee, even though he is becoming too heavy to carry. I groan inwardly as she walks towards us.

I never like talking to anyone after a crazy, busy night shift at the local nursing home. My lack of sleep has left me feeling jet-lagged. I pull my big red coat closer to protect myself from the blustery wind and something else I cannot fathom.

The woman leads me to her office. She paints a picture of tidy innocence in her ivy-white, silk blouse and skirt, laced with pink flowers.

‘Are you Josh’s mum?’ she asks softly. I nod politely. ‘I tried to catch you earlier but you had already left,’ she says. Her head cocks to the side as if waiting for a response. A bit like a coyote does when considering how to hunt its prey. A distinct whiff of peppermint lingers around her. It is a smell I have always disliked. I am not sure why.

‘I am Mrs Tutler, the new education welfare officer. I am afraid that there has been some concern that your son Josh is not meeting the school attendance expectations.’ Another uncomfortable silence.

‘Is everything okay at home?’ she asks. I think of Josh. A happy, quiet little boy, sensitive with a penchant for losing things.

‘Yes!’ I say, surprised she should ask. A rush of concern hits me, the thought that Josh might be being bullied by other children. He was only in his first year of primary school. I didn’t expect this. Surely that sort of thing didn't happen until much later on.

‘He is not being picked on, is he?’

‘Oh no. Nothing like that. I am pleased to say he has made a few friends. He has children to play with during breaks. Yes, he is settling down nicely.’

I breathe a sigh of relief. But she has more to say.

‘However, I have noticed you have not participated in the school WhatsApp group. Have you had a chance to connect with the other parents? It's very helpful, you know.’

I politely explain that I have not yet had the chance to join online groups or get to know the other parents/caregivers. We had only moved to the area a few weeks ago. I had been working my way through unpacking boxes and all the other stuff that comes with moving. Joining the group was the next thing on my to-do list. Mrs Tutler studies me intensely, then she asks the leading question.

‘Do you have any support with Josh at home?’

The feeling of fight or flight instantly triggers me as if someone has just set fire to my clothes. I freeze on the spot. Having seen this question played out in TV dramas many times, with it never ending well. Why would she ask me this? I was not about to tell her that I was struggling with the overwhelming tiredness of juggling Josh and working night shifts in a busy nursing home so that I could pay my bills. Or that Josh’s father was barely on speaking terms since our separation last year. Yet we somehow managed to muddle along for the sake of Josh.

‘Josh mentioned to his teacher that you work at night and he goes to stay with his father until you can pick him up in the morning?’ The friendly wolf inquires as if reading my thoughts. I answer her question politely enough yet wonder why she has to ask such intrusive questions. Then Mrs Tutler smiles. I don't know if it was my imagination, but her teeth appear brighter and more canine-like than before.

‘Very well. Thanks for speaking with me. I will show you the way out. Please make sure Josh is on time from now on,’ she says in a fake, phony voice.

I walk through the playground feeling a heavy weight on my shoulders. The scene that had just happened plays over in my mind. I question my parenting abilities. Am I a bad parent? I know I am not always on time, but most of the time it was due to situations outside of my control, be it traffic or Josh’s father running late. Even though life had been difficult lately, I did my best to parent Josh to the best of my ability, making sure he was always happy, clean, and well-fed. There was something about Mrs Tutler that unnerved me, with her watchful eyes and her canine-like smile. It drew on me that she resembled a wolf pretending to be friendly in sheep's clothing. Acting helpful and nice, when really it was like she was trying to catch me out in some way. I know it sounds paranoid, but from now on I will make sure I take Josh to school extra early.

Two weeks later

Today Josh was 3 minutes late for school. As usual, I had organised his clean school uniform, ready for the next day. However, somewhere between picking Josh up from his father's house and driving him back to mine, he managed to lose his school shoes. In the end, I had to send him to school in a pair of trainers. I was so anxious about the friendly wolf approaching us that I became impatient with Josh, something I always promised myself I would never do.

Unfortunately, I was right. There she was, standing in her usual place outside the school gates. The same wolfish grin, already writing notes on her clipboard. She looks down at Josh's trainers.

‘What is the reason for his lateness?’

‘He left his school shoes at his father's house.’

What else could I say? I was too tongue-tied to explain that I was positive he had started with them. He had a penchant for losing things. I did not sleep that day. I spent the whole day going over the damn awful situation. I received flashbacks from all our encounters so far. Her wolfish face wouldn’t leave my mind's eye. The scent of peppermint lingered all around me, carrying a sense of doom. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling off or the scent off.

The next day

The next morning, the friendly wolf is waiting for us once more. I am not sure why; we are on time. I stand tall and look her square in the eyes. I must not let this woman intimidate me any longer. I have nothing to worry about. I am a good parent. The friendly wolf looks down at Josh.

‘Why is Jack’s coat unfastened? Where are his scarf and gloves? It is the coldest day of the year.’

I stare at Josh in despair. How had he managed to undress himself in such a short time? His coat hangs halfway down his shoulder. His scarf and gloves are nowhere to be seen. I had kept a watchful eye on him for the whole journey, insisting he kept his coat on despite him saying he felt too hot. He must have taken it off when I passed an invitation slip to his classmates’ parents. I try to get my words out. I am now beyond frustrated with both Josh and the friendly wolf, who is writing on her clipboard once more. All I can do is apologise.

‘Sorry, it won’t happen again.’

On the way out of the entrance, I see Mr Smith the school caretaker with Josh’s winter garments. I rush to claim them.

‘Thanks, Miss,’ he says in a hearty London accent. ‘Saves me time taking them down to lost property.’

Mrs Tutler’s interaction with a bunch of excitable children draws our attention. Her generic genteel voice has melted away. Instead, what came out of her mouth sounded like a growl.

‘Single file now!’

‘More like single parents file,’ quips Mr Smith as he walks by chuckling to himself.

I wonder what he means by this comment, then I get a sense of being watched. I slowly look over my shoulder to see Mrs Tutler. Head cocked to one side.

Her expression, sly as a wolf trying to find its way into a chicken's pen.

That night I dream Josh and I are walking in the school alleyway. There is no one else around. The sky is gloomy. I try to hurry Josh along to get to class, but his feet become stuck in quicksand. I try to pull him out. I look up to find Mrs Tutler hungrily eyeing Josh up in the form of a wolf. Her teeth are bigger and shinier than ever before. Josh

starts to sink into the quicksand. I try to pull him out. The friendly wolf charges towards us. She picks Josh out of the quicksand by her teeth, carrying him off, leaving a trail of red blood on the pathway.

February

It is a frozen, icy morning. A lot of families are running late. But Josh and I manage to arrive before the school bell. I give myself a proverbial pat on the back. I kiss Josh goodbye, then I chat with a couple of people I have recently got to know on the school run. Mr Smith waves across at us as he drives past on his salt spreader. Overall, a tranquil start to the morning. Then I spot the friendly wolf making her way towards me.

Oh no, what now? Would it be too late to walk away pretending I hadn’t noticed her? She had left us alone for a while. I presumed that I had done enough to put her off my scent. I was actively engaging in the WhatsApp group. I was doing everything expected of me and more. So, there was no reason whatsoever for her to be approaching me.

The friendly wolf leads me to her office.

‘Take a seat, Miss Monaghan. I wanted to speak to you because we are concerned about your son Josh.’

‘How exactly do you mean?’

‘Josh seems to be struggling with some aspects of his behaviour. And we are aware that you have not been coping well as a single parent for some time. We feel you may need some support from other agencies that can come in and intervene where needed.’

‘That’s not true. Josh’s father and I work hard together to make sure all of Josh's needs are met. I also have my parents who are always there if I need anything.’

‘Josh mentioned that they live far away from you and that he only gets to see them during the holidays.’

‘He talks to them a lot through screen time. Nearly every day. They play games... all sorts of activities.’

I try to compose myself, yet I am trembling inside, horrified that the friendly wolf would insinuate that Josh’s home life was anything but loving. I leap up from my chair.

‘I need to speak with Josh’s teacher. The last time we met, she appeared quite satisfied with Josh’s progress. I never sensed any concerns about his wellbeing from her.’

‘That is not possible. She is currently off sick. However, I can schedule a meeting with the new headteacher, Mr Rose, if you wish.’ A headteacher I had never encountered? This unsettled me deeply. I was beginning to understand the tactics of the friendly wolf by now. She was likely to feed any nonsense into his mind. There was a possibility he might actually believe her without ever getting to form a true opinion for himself.

‘Mr Rose and I have already agreed it is vital at this stage to involve other agencies regarding Josh’s behaviour. So, we can assess him closely and make a plan on how it is best to approach the situation at hand.’ Great, so she had already approached Mr Rose with her concerns.

‘Mrs Tutler, with respect, I have done everything you have asked of me and more since Josh has started this school. Josh is an extremely happy little boy. I have lots of people to vouch for this. I can’t understand why you are trying to find problems when there isn’t any.’

The friendly wolf gleefully pulls out a chunky document from a drawer. There are too many pages to read all at once. The file is heavy. I skim numerous entries about Josh’s lateness. He had never been late that many times. It was like she had multiplied each incident by seven. Embellishments of all the encounters we had ever experienced with the friendly wolf. Like the occasion Josh came to school wearing trainers. Then the incident when Josh felt hot, so threw all his winter clothes on the floor. I could not believe what I was reading.

Josh arrived at school today with his coat unfastened, no scarf or gloves. Josh complained of feeling very cold. Taken to the school nurse to help with warming up. Provided with a hot drink.

She had taken a grain of truth and built it on a foundation of lies. Fabrication after fabrication. I put the document down in horror.

‘Please don’t be alarmed, Miss Monaghan. We have to record every interaction both with Josh and yourself,’ Mrs Tutler beams. Her gleaming smile reminds me of the dream I had a few weeks ago. The one where she transformed into a wolf, taking Josh away with her teeth. Also, I recall the strange comment from the caretaker the morning we witnessed Mrs Tutler losing her cool with a group of children. ‘More like single parent files.’ I had reflected on this remark a lot. I could only figure it out to mean that Mrs Tutler liked to target single-parent families. Like what she seemed to be doing with me. My being a single parent certainly seemed to bring something out in her. Maybe Mr Smith had figured her out, watched her play her games with other families, tried to split them apart. If I had genuinely believed that Josh needed help for his behaviour, I would have asked for support. But this was all a lie. I gestured towards the file.

‘This is wrong. I have done everything you have asked of me and you are still trying to find issues with Josh and me. Kindly leave us alone. We are fine. We do not need any help.’ At this point, there was no other option but to be blunt. Maybe if I had been direct from the start, this situation would never have happened. This woman would not be satisfied until she had taken Josh away from his family. She must get some type of sick pleasure from this type of thing. I knew this from the depth of my being. I walk out of the office, confused, wondering how to prevent this dreadful situation from spiralling even further out of control. I need time and space to think. I reach the end of the winding corridor; I pause briefly to figure out the large green button I need to press to exit the building. After a moment, I finally manage to activate it. I quickly make my way through the school gates towards the alleyway that leads out of the playground. A knot of anxiety hits my stomach. I hear her distinctive voice calling me; she is not far behind, I can sense it.

‘Miss Monaghan, please come back. I haven't finished yet.’ I quicken my pace; I hear her footsteps draw closer. Surely it must be challenging for her to keep up; I am tall and walk quickly, plus I used to ice skate regularly, which gives me an advantage on icy paths. She is definitely closing the gap. It won’t be long before she completely catches me up. It's unsettling that the friendly wolf is crazy enough to chase after me, but not as much at the thought of her taking Josh away. Do I break into a full-on sprint or turn around and face her? She is the last person I want to talk to. I need time away from the situation to reflect and talk to my family. I think about slowing down, knowing I would eventually have to speak with her anyway. Then the decision is made for me.

A short distance behind me, there is a thud followed by a cry of anguish. I instinctively turn to see what has happened. The friendly wolf is lying on the ground, her body twisted in an unusual position. She must have slipped on black ice. I trudge towards her. Several droplets of blood lie near her head area. Her pupils are black and dilated.

‘Are you okay? Need any help?’

‘Of course, I’m not okay. I can’t feel a thing,’ she cries out in frustration. Her voice all hoarse and brutal again, like the time Mr Smith and I saw her telling the group of children to get into single file.

I pull out my phone to ring an ambulance. Then I place my red coat over her like a blanket to help keep her warm. She retaliates with fury.

‘I need to let the school know you have fallen. I will be back in a moment.’

‘What the hell are you doing, you idiot? Shame you don’t put a coat on your son. Get off me!’ She stares at me without blinking. ‘You know I despise people like you.’

‘People like who?’ I ask. The friendly wolf closes her eyes and refuses to acknowledge me. I would love to tell her exactly how difficult she has made my life over the last few months, then walk away and leave her. But instead, the care worker in me takes over. I wonder if her rude behaviour is due to a concussion.

‘Mrs Tutler, please! I’m trying to help you.’ The friendly wolf's broad, shining teeth have emerged into a grimace, making her seem more wolf-like than ever. She evokes images of those quirky Victorian paintings featuring animals in human clothing. Then I notice that part of her stomach area is exposed. Where there should be skin, there is only fur. I would like to say I'm surprised, but I have always suspected. From the very first day I met her. She covers up. Now she knows I know her secret. She tries to hit out at me. I dodge her.

Mr Smith sees us. He spots Mrs Tutler on the floor, jumps off his machine and comes running towards us. He bends over her, blocking my view with his bulky frame.

‘Mrs Tutler, what's happened? Can you move your neck?’

‘I can’t feel anything. Get me up.’

And then something strange happens. I hear a loud snapping noise. Similar to the sound at Christmas when pulling crackers. Mr Smith chuckles darkly. An ambulance siren in the background. When the caretaker finally moves out of the way, the ‘friendly wolf’s’ head is twisted in the opposite way it was before. Blood trickling out of her mouth and nose.