But the complaints paint a different picture.
Hadley routinely referred to female students ‘in sexualised terms’, according to one complaint, which accuses the coach of making regular remarks to students ‘about their body shape, sexual attractiveness and bra sizes’ and regularly entering the change room without notice.
Another complaint paints a picture of grooming behaviour, detailing how Hadley lured a student to meet him off-campus to discuss her ‘promising swimming career’.
According to the complainant, when she arrived at the agreed meeting point he tried to kiss her, so she left. The complaint further alleges that since the incident, Hadley has ridiculed the student in question in front of other students. He has also failed to support her entry in interschool competitions, even though she has faster race times than other entrants he has supported.
Rosemead Grammar declined to provide a comment about the allegations, except to say they were still being investigated.
‘It’s no secret that political correctness is not a strong point of Jack’s,’ said one former colleague close to the former Olympian. ‘But he wouldn’t have meant any harm by it. Personally, I don’t see this affecting him going forward. Everybody respects him and appreciates what he does.’
A former Rosemead student whom Hadley coached for six years agrees. ‘He’s done so much for me and my swimming career,’ the 20-year-old said. ‘If it wasn’t for him, there would be no way I’d be competing at State level. He’s the best coach I’ve ever had.’
Chapter 39
HARRIET
Here’s the tricky thing about Defining Moments: they can be difficult to spot. You may think you’re having one when in reality you’re having something else entirely. I once believed that starting at Rosemead Grammar was the moment that changed my life, when in fact it was simply a continuation of the course I was already on. What changed my life was not starting at Rosemead Grammar, but leaving it.
In the last few months I’ve done quite a bit of leaving. It is definitely a skill I am refining. Right now, for instance, I’m at Departure Gate 6 at Terminal 3 of Sydney Airport, cabin luggage at my feet. I have my boarding pass in one hand and my phone in the other. Planes are taking off outside the window into a hazy sky. There is a lot of cloud, but the stretched-cotton-wool kind, tinted yellow from the sun. It’s a funny sort of day, but I like it.
A message comes through on my phone, a reply to one I sent earlier this morning.
She’ll be pleased, believe me. What a lovely birthday treat you’re giving her! Safe travels, Liz x
Liz Newcomb has been my saviour. Things were extremely tense between my parents and I when I told them I was quitting Rosemead. After my mother called Will a bad influence and a ‘degenerate’, Liz suggested I stay with her and her family for a while.
I appreciate how lucky I am. Alternative accommodation in a time of crisis is more than a lot of people can count on. I spent a lot of that time in tears, on the verge of tears, or recovering from tears. After a good many negotiations, my parents and I agreed that I would finish my schooling at Queens College, a local private school that is smaller than Rosemead but still one of the ‘elites’. It is also religious, which I was wary about. I didn’t want to be closeted, especially after what we had just been through at Rosemead.
I talked it through with Liz and Will before deciding. Liz was very pragmatic about it. She said that all I had to do was put my head down and get the results I needed for university. To my surprise, Will agreed. ‘It’s only for a few months. Get the piece of paper you need to make your mark on the world.’
I feel grateful to have such wise women to talk to.
It has been a while since I’ve heard from Beth or Millie. In all honesty, I haven’t missed them. I realise how much we’ve grown apart in the last few months.
I did see a lot of Rosemead people at the Tawney Shield, which was hard in some ways. I was playing for Queens, and we ranked eighth in the end: a disparaging result, although we would have done worse had it not been for my efforts in the Doubles.
I didn’t win: Edie and Bianca, predictably, earned that honour. But third place isn’t bad, particularly considering Liz and I only started training together as a team a month before. Not only did Liz play amazing tennis, she also calmed me down between sets, for example after Edie deliberately aimed a volley shot at my head.
I suppose I deserved it. She got thrashed in the National Public Speaking Competition after I failed to deliver the notes I’d promised her. Breaking up with her added insult to injury. But her on-court anger was still a blow, figuratively as well as literally.
Luckily I had Liz to offer sports drinks and soothing words. I can see now why she was chosen as Rosemead’s team captain: she has a gift for level-headedness I can only dream about.
My phone beeps again. It’s Natasha. I accept the call and she appears on the screen. ‘Price. Got a minute?’
‘That’s all I’ve got. We’re about to board.’
‘Then I’ll be quick.’
‘Is this internal investigation news?’
‘It is.’
I feel suddenly queasy.
After I made a formal written complaint against Coach Hadley the week I left Rosemead, nothing happened. It seemed like they weren’t going to bother investigating because I was no longer at the school. That’s when Natasha strategically leaked my complaint to a few classmates. The news quickly spread. As Will predicted long ago, it was enough to prompt other students to start lodging their own complaints.
But it wasn’t until Natasha spoke to an editor at The Guardian that
