With Both Feet

CHAPTER 1 -

‘Soz Babe. Can’t make tonight. Work stuff x.’

I read Elliott’s pathetic message with the disdain it deserved and turned over to go back to sleep. Then I remembered it was a school day. Urgghh…

I rolled out of bed and caught my reflection in the wardrobe mirror; mad bird’s nest hair, washed-out complexion (shouldn’t have stayed up reading all those Year 8 poems last night), blood-shot eyes (same), slightly out-of-shape figure hiding inside a baggy stretch-nightie from BHS Closing Down Sale... not the most alluring of sights first thing in the morning, but hey, it’s amazing what a shower and hair-wash can do. Just shove a bit of make-up on and a nice dress, and Bingo! Life’s too short for wasting hours of precious time spading on foundation and blow-drying my less-than-perfect hair. A long time ago I came to the conclusion that I am not endowed with elegance or a perfect figure, but I can turn heads with my joie de vivre and a nice lipstick. And, although my wild hair often resembles my mother’s rust coloured Cockerpoo, it can look pretty good with a little intervention, if I say so myself. However, this morning I didn’t have much time to spend taming it.

‘Ah, Laura – quick word…’ The Headmistress beckoned me into her office as I tried unsuccessfully to scoot past. She appraised my unkempt appearance with a disapproving sniff, drawing her head back into her skinny neck, as if avoiding an unpleasant odour.

‘What do you know about William Parsons?’ she said.

‘Well, he seems all right, he’s lazy like most of them.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Um. Well, his hobbies include playing computer games, showing off, and chasing girls…’ I was trying to be amusing but failed dismally.

‘Mm,’ she said. ‘His social worker rang me this morning…’ She peered at me expectantly over her large, red, cat-eye spectacles.

I felt the heat rising in my cheeks. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at,’ I said, wondering which of my misdemeanours would be highlighted this time.

The trouble with Evelyn ‘The Führer’ Ferrier, is that she has absolutely no sense of humour whatsoever. After 30 years, I suppose you’ve seen all the jokes kids play too often. When Barny Russell glued that fiver onto the floor outside her office last year, it obviously wasn’t the most original idea in the world, but watching Evelyn trying to peel it off on the video he took was priceless. She reacted very badly when she found out about it. Barny, not being the sharpest knife in the rack, didn’t think twice about putting the footage on social media where her nephew, Gordon, was sure to see it. The end of term is always a bit on the rowdy side. Pranks and high jinks intensify, and none of us gets off scot-free. I am still afraid to leave a drink on my desk and turn my back on the class during lesson time. I didn’t even know you could buy Plaque-Detect in liquid form! Bloody kids! Anyway, I suppose there are worse things than walking around with a blue mouth and matching teeth all afternoon. Mr Enshaw had to remove his trousers in full view of the 6th form chemistry class when he discovered someone had smeared his chair with Superglue. It was a lucky escape – I mean, we’ve all heard those awful stories of loo seats having to be chipped off bare skin using a rasp to file the glue down…

‘Laura…’ Evelyn was saying, - ‘she’s complaining that he doesn’t seem to do any homework.’

‘Well, he does have some – he just doesn’t do it…’

‘That’s what she means, Laura! She wants you to put some pressure on him. For heaven’s sake, this isn’t a holiday camp.’

‘OK, I’ll talk to him,’ I said, hoping she’d finished.

‘You need to step up, Laura. English teachers are not in short supply, you know.’ She cleared her throat and nodded at me; my cue to leave.