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“Oh, Mr Farey, what brings you to my office? Would you like some tea?” headmaster Adlington smiled at the middle-aged gentleman walking up to his desk.
“Headmaster, thank you, that would be quite delightful,” Adlington noticed the concerned crease to the Physical Education teacher’s brow and gestured for him to sit down promptly, then nodded at the secretary who scuttled away to prepare the tea.
“What is the matter, Mr Farey? Dear Lord, you have just finished the first lesson at the shooting range, correct? Has anything happened?”
“No, headmaster, there are no injuries, nor scrapes or even burned fingers. But...” Mr Farey stared out of the tall window for a second. The shooting range could be seen from this angle. “...it does have to do with the lesson, you are right about that.”
Adlington nodded at him to continue. No injuries, yet such disquiet?
“One of my students at the course worries me. Lady Lara Croft.”
“Worries?” Adlington leaned forward. “Is she perhaps too careless to handle the weapon? Could there be injuries in the future?” What the headmaster knew of Lady Croft, her physical education proceeded very well – no, better than any other student at Gordonstoun, in fact. But a control of one’s body didn’t necessarily translate to fine motor skills needed to operate a firearm.
Mr Farey tilted his head to the side slightly. “I cannot rule out the possibility, but not in the way you probably mean.”
The secretary returned with the tea right then, and they both waited until they were alone again, added sugar, milk or lemon to the cups the way the preferred and took a sip before continuing the conversation.
“I do not think Lady Croft would hurt anyone on accident, she had proven to be a very talented shooter after mere few rounds. Took a… great liking to it too, which I would appreciate at any other time. But…” Slightly agitated, Mr Farey took another sip. “It was her… questions that she had asked me throughout the lesson, and after when she stayed behind. I cannot even remember them all.”
It was Adlington who took a sip now to calm his nerves. Mr Farey’s previous insistence that Lady Croft wouldn’t hurt anyone accidentally floated unpleasantly through his head.
“Lady Croft had asked… the maximum range to which the training pistol might faithfully shoot without losing its trajectory, and after giving her the answer, she had asked how it would affect the damage caused by the bullet.” Mr Farey paused, pressed his lips together, then continued. “First, she meant only the training target. Then she asked about other materials, including… animal bodies. She later specified feral hogs, making me think she was merely interested in hunting.”
Adlington nodded. That would have been a reasonable explanation, but if that had been all, Mr Farey wouldn’t be so concerned.
“But then there were other questions. About the speed with which one can take a weapon out of its holster and what position is the most ideal for an easy reach. How the effect of a shot changes when hitting a corpse. If the bullets may be created from pure iron, how the effectiveness decreases when shooting into water, how weapons deal with humidity in general, how many bullet magazines can one legally purchase, how quickly a gun may be reloaded without looking or while running…”
Adlington had forgotten his tea, his eyes wide as Mr Farey recounted the strange and worrying inquiries. “Have you given her the answers?” he asked in a whisper .
“At first, yes, as I have said.” Mr Farey nodded with a heavy frown. “I have refused to answer most after that, or only vaguely,” he rubbed his forehead. “And there still must have been more. When I excused myself, she was wondering how reloading a weapon would be possible were one to carry a pistol in each hand.”
Adlington shook his head in disbelief.
“Headmaster,” Mr Farey said with gravity, “I do not feel comfortable letting Lady Croft attend my firearm lessons.”
Adlington’s shakes became nods. “Oh, I agree wholeheartedly, Mr Farey. I will write a letter to her parents immediately to explain the situation. Surely they will see the reason in your decision. And possibly, they might want to look into their daughter’s… interests,” Adlington said delicately, thinking out loud. “We should offer them the service of our counsellor.”
“If they are unsure, I would be happy to explain my decision to them in person,” Mr Farey assured him and by the look in his eyes, Adlington wondered what the teacher had seen in the student’s face out there at the shooting range.
God willing , their school would be able to help Lady Lara Croft steer away from any troubling interests.