unreservedly for them. I think removing Toby from her class would only hurt his academic progress. As you know, he’s already struggling with English and to put him in a higher stream would only—’
‘Maybe he’s struggling because she’s not a decent teacher.’
‘I don’t believe that is the case.’
‘If you want I can get a restraining order on her, but I don’t imagine you’d like the publicity.’
‘Mr Mayhew,’ Benton pressed on, remarkably calmly, ‘we’re trying to resolve this in a fair and reasonable—’
‘The way to resolve this is to keep that woman away from my son.’
Anna glanced at Mrs Mayhew. She was clearly embarrassed by her husband’s behaviour, fiddling with something in her handbag.
The Undertaker took a sip of his coffee, his expression never deviating from its affected thoughtfulness.
‘I don’t wish to punish Miss Price for what I believe is a genuine error of judgement …’
‘How many times are you going to use that phrase. Are we in court or something?’
‘… but I also recognise that you are justifiably upset, Mr Mayhew.’
He could run the United Nations, Anna thought. Boutros Boutros Benton. She watched him sigh. Here it came.
‘I’ll move Toby into Miss Gilbert’s English class. If he cannot keep up with the course work, then we should all meet again and reconsider the situation. In the meantime, Miss Price will make sure that she limits her contact with Toby wherever possible. Miss Price?’
All eyes were on her. She managed a nod.
‘Good. Mr Mayhew, Mrs Mayhew, is this satisfactory?’
‘Fine.’ Toby’s father stood, and his mother was there in his slipstream.
Anna stood too. She was flushed, and stared angrily at the floor to hide any more emotion from slipping out.
‘Thank you for your understanding, Mr Mayhew,’ said the headmaster, shaking both parents’ hands. ‘I’m glad you were able to help us sort this out.’
‘Sure.’
There was an awkward pause as Anna realised that she too was expected to shake hands. She put her hand out, and her voice cracked as she spoke.
‘Thank you.’
Michael smiled at her discomfort. He’d played his cards close to his chest until then, but now there was a nasty glint in his smile, betraying his previous anger as a performance. He held Anna’s hand for a fraction longer than he needed to.
‘Alright then,’ he said with a voice that was suddenly generous and relaxed. He turned and walked his wife out of the room. Benton took another reasonable sip of his coffee and placed it back on the saucer. Anna walked away. The bell rang and pupils rushed around her. She wished one of themwould jolt her so she could punish them, but even the kids wouldn’t behave properly.
She walked along the corridor, wrapped in a storm. She entered the class and taught Year 9 with a bored coldness that the children noticed. It kept them quieter than usual, but their new-found attention didn’t soothe her rage. She glared at Year 7 and taught them without care or attention. She didn’t answer anyone’s questions and she talked over confused but well-meaning pupils.
At break she hid from the staffroom and went, instead, to a narrow windy alley between two prefabricated buildings where she smoked her way through three cigarettes. Kath found her here and, apart from a raised eyebrow, said nothing for a while, smoking a cigarette herself. Crisp packets and cans littered the ground.
‘He needed my help.’
‘Says who? The kid? Sounds to me like he’s got quite an imagination.’
Anna just smoked some more.
‘Oh cheer up,’ Kath said. ‘You could have lost your job. Benton might be a prick but at least he stopped you getting into more trouble.’
‘I guess.’
‘You guess. Have you thought of how a newspaper would twist this? Secret trysts in the back of your car, parents weeping for the childhood snatched from their son, the crimson whore who’s come to steal our children. You know what they do. The
‘Maybe he’s struggling because she’s not a decent teacher.’
‘I don’t believe that is the case.’
‘If you want I can get a restraining order on her, but I don’t imagine you’d like the publicity.’
‘Mr Mayhew,’ Benton pressed on, remarkably calmly, ‘we’re trying to resolve this in a fair and reasonable—’
‘The way to resolve this is to keep that woman away from my son.’
Anna glanced at Mrs Mayhew. She was clearly embarrassed by her husband’s behaviour, fiddling with something in her handbag.
The Undertaker took a sip of his coffee, his expression never deviating from its affected thoughtfulness.
‘I don’t wish to punish Miss Price for what I believe is a genuine error of judgement …’
‘How many times are you going to use that phrase. Are we in court or something?’
‘… but I also recognise that you are justifiably upset, Mr Mayhew.’
He could run the United Nations, Anna thought. Boutros Boutros Benton. She watched him sigh. Here it came.
‘I’ll move Toby into Miss Gilbert’s English class. If he cannot keep up with the course work, then we should all meet again and reconsider the situation. In the meantime, Miss Price will make sure that she limits her contact with Toby wherever possible. Miss Price?’
All eyes were on her. She managed a nod.
‘Good. Mr Mayhew, Mrs Mayhew, is this satisfactory?’
‘Fine.’ Toby’s father stood, and his mother was there in his slipstream.
Anna stood too. She was flushed, and stared angrily at the floor to hide any more emotion from slipping out.
‘Thank you for your understanding, Mr Mayhew,’ said the headmaster, shaking both parents’ hands. ‘I’m glad you were able to help us sort this out.’
‘Sure.’
There was an awkward pause as Anna realised that she too was expected to shake hands. She put her hand out, and her voice cracked as she spoke.
‘Thank you.’
Michael smiled at her discomfort. He’d played his cards close to his chest until then, but now there was a nasty glint in his smile, betraying his previous anger as a performance. He held Anna’s hand for a fraction longer than he needed to.
‘Alright then,’ he said with a voice that was suddenly generous and relaxed. He turned and walked his wife out of the room. Benton took another reasonable sip of his coffee and placed it back on the saucer. Anna walked away. The bell rang and pupils rushed around her. She wished one of themwould jolt her so she could punish them, but even the kids wouldn’t behave properly.
She walked along the corridor, wrapped in a storm. She entered the class and taught Year 9 with a bored coldness that the children noticed. It kept them quieter than usual, but their new-found attention didn’t soothe her rage. She glared at Year 7 and taught them without care or attention. She didn’t answer anyone’s questions and she talked over confused but well-meaning pupils.
At break she hid from the staffroom and went, instead, to a narrow windy alley between two prefabricated buildings where she smoked her way through three cigarettes. Kath found her here and, apart from a raised eyebrow, said nothing for a while, smoking a cigarette herself. Crisp packets and cans littered the ground.
‘He needed my help.’
‘Says who? The kid? Sounds to me like he’s got quite an imagination.’
Anna just smoked some more.
‘Oh cheer up,’ Kath said. ‘You could have lost your job. Benton might be a prick but at least he stopped you getting into more trouble.’
‘I guess.’
‘You guess. Have you thought of how a newspaper would twist this? Secret trysts in the back of your car, parents weeping for the childhood snatched from their son, the crimson whore who’s come to steal our children. You know what they do. The
Similar Books
