paragraph.
‘ So the geezer called me stinky but instead of getting shirty about it when everyone laughed, I should have just laughed and said, “Not guilty, sir, Harry Evans has just farted and I think he followed through” .’
Not exactly what I had in mind, but at least he saw that by turning the tables he could have avoided some of the humiliation. Putting this into practice, however – well, that remained to be seen.
As the final bell of the afternoon went, the students, as usual, couldn’t wait to get out of the classroom and into the warm, spring sunshine. Within a minute there was only Kiara left behind.
‘Will you be having tea with us, miss?’ she asked shyly, and I noticed she was once again tugging, seemingly unconsciously, at a long strand of hair. Did she hope I’d say I was or that I wasn’t?
‘No, love,’ I said. ‘Just a quick “hello” visit, that’s all. I like to try and meet with as many of my Unit parents as I can,’ I explained. ‘Just to help us all get to know each other a little better. Nothing for you to worry about,’ I finished, sensing her anxiety was building, and wondering if I should touch her arm to stop her winding her hair round her finger.
She removed it herself then, to haul on her backpack while I shouldered my satchel. ‘Off we go, then,’ I said brightly. ‘You lead the way, we don’t want to keep your mum waiting, do we?’ Given how terrifically busy she is, I thought but didn’t say.
Kiara and her mum lived only ten minutes away from school in a very sought-after area with broad tree-lined streets and manicured gardens. It was very easy to imagine that it was all peace and tranquillity and that all the children played out in their Sunday best.
As we walked there I tried to get her chatting. ‘So, your mum has changed her hours then? I guess you see a lot more of her now, don’t you?’
Kiara glanced up at me and then immediately looked away. ‘Um, yes, I suppose so,’ she muttered, head down. ‘Did she tell you that?’ she added, after a pause.
I sensed a growing unease in her. Was this a normal response to getting home, or just because I was going with her? I wished I could get some sense of what was ailing this mysterious child. ‘No, I think it was Mr Clark who told me that,’ I clarified. ‘But she must have changed some of her hours otherwise she wouldn’t be at home now, would she?’
‘I s’pose,’ she said, as if her mum’s working hours were something of a mystery. Which was odd. Surely she had a rota of some sort? Surely she kept her daughter abreast of her movements, in the time-honoured ‘I’ll be working till X o’clock this evening. Pop the shepherd’s pie in the oven, see you in a bit’ kind of way?
Or perhaps not. ‘When do we break up for the Easter holidays, miss?’ Kiara asked me. She really didn’t seem to want to talk about home. And that was fine.
‘About a week and a half, love,’ I told her. ‘And then you have two whole weeks off. Won’t that be nice?’
Kiara smiled properly then, and as she did so her pretty little face lit up. I was struck once again by how beautiful she was when she was animated like this. ‘I can’t wait, miss,’ she said.
‘Me neither,’ I agreed. ‘What have you got planned? Anything nice?’
As I spoke I reflected on her apparent lack of friends, which was something that really concerned me. How did this perfectly personable child get to be such a loner? It wasn’t as if she lacked social skills, or had difficulty relating to people. Chloe adored her, and she responded so patiently to her, so it wasn’t as if she lacked empathy. Yes, some kids were natural loners, and happy to be so, but this girl just didn’t seem to fit that mould. She seemed a girl who’d have a best friend that she took through school with her. A BFF to share secrets with, paint her nails with, go to town shopping with. Or did her mum fill that role for her? From what I’d seen and heard
‘ So the geezer called me stinky but instead of getting shirty about it when everyone laughed, I should have just laughed and said, “Not guilty, sir, Harry Evans has just farted and I think he followed through” .’
Not exactly what I had in mind, but at least he saw that by turning the tables he could have avoided some of the humiliation. Putting this into practice, however – well, that remained to be seen.
As the final bell of the afternoon went, the students, as usual, couldn’t wait to get out of the classroom and into the warm, spring sunshine. Within a minute there was only Kiara left behind.
‘Will you be having tea with us, miss?’ she asked shyly, and I noticed she was once again tugging, seemingly unconsciously, at a long strand of hair. Did she hope I’d say I was or that I wasn’t?
‘No, love,’ I said. ‘Just a quick “hello” visit, that’s all. I like to try and meet with as many of my Unit parents as I can,’ I explained. ‘Just to help us all get to know each other a little better. Nothing for you to worry about,’ I finished, sensing her anxiety was building, and wondering if I should touch her arm to stop her winding her hair round her finger.
She removed it herself then, to haul on her backpack while I shouldered my satchel. ‘Off we go, then,’ I said brightly. ‘You lead the way, we don’t want to keep your mum waiting, do we?’ Given how terrifically busy she is, I thought but didn’t say.
Kiara and her mum lived only ten minutes away from school in a very sought-after area with broad tree-lined streets and manicured gardens. It was very easy to imagine that it was all peace and tranquillity and that all the children played out in their Sunday best.
As we walked there I tried to get her chatting. ‘So, your mum has changed her hours then? I guess you see a lot more of her now, don’t you?’
Kiara glanced up at me and then immediately looked away. ‘Um, yes, I suppose so,’ she muttered, head down. ‘Did she tell you that?’ she added, after a pause.
I sensed a growing unease in her. Was this a normal response to getting home, or just because I was going with her? I wished I could get some sense of what was ailing this mysterious child. ‘No, I think it was Mr Clark who told me that,’ I clarified. ‘But she must have changed some of her hours otherwise she wouldn’t be at home now, would she?’
‘I s’pose,’ she said, as if her mum’s working hours were something of a mystery. Which was odd. Surely she had a rota of some sort? Surely she kept her daughter abreast of her movements, in the time-honoured ‘I’ll be working till X o’clock this evening. Pop the shepherd’s pie in the oven, see you in a bit’ kind of way?
Or perhaps not. ‘When do we break up for the Easter holidays, miss?’ Kiara asked me. She really didn’t seem to want to talk about home. And that was fine.
‘About a week and a half, love,’ I told her. ‘And then you have two whole weeks off. Won’t that be nice?’
Kiara smiled properly then, and as she did so her pretty little face lit up. I was struck once again by how beautiful she was when she was animated like this. ‘I can’t wait, miss,’ she said.
‘Me neither,’ I agreed. ‘What have you got planned? Anything nice?’
As I spoke I reflected on her apparent lack of friends, which was something that really concerned me. How did this perfectly personable child get to be such a loner? It wasn’t as if she lacked social skills, or had difficulty relating to people. Chloe adored her, and she responded so patiently to her, so it wasn’t as if she lacked empathy. Yes, some kids were natural loners, and happy to be so, but this girl just didn’t seem to fit that mould. She seemed a girl who’d have a best friend that she took through school with her. A BFF to share secrets with, paint her nails with, go to town shopping with. Or did her mum fill that role for her? From what I’d seen and heard
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