Star Teacher by Jack Sheffield Page A

few surprises were in store.
    â€˜Don’t Break My Heart’ by UB40 was playing on my car radio as I turned right at the top of the High Street and drove through the school gate. A group of children had been dropped off by their working mothers and, unperturbed by the biting wind, lined up like a guard of honour to greet my Morris Minor Traveller as it crunched over the cobbled drive.
    When I walked from the car park Ruby was sweeping the steps in the entrance porch. ‘Morning, Ruby,’ I yelled above the wind.
    â€˜G’morning, Mr Sheffield,’ she replied. ‘A bit parky this mornin’.’ Ruby’s only concession to this freezing day was a headscarf double-knotted beneath her chin. She was made of strong stuff.
    Vera was already busy behind her desk as I hung up my coat and scarf. She opened the last of the morning’s post and gasped.
    â€˜What is it, Vera?’ I asked.
    â€˜Oh no,’ she said. All colour had left her cheeks as she scanned the official-looking letter with the crest of County Hall.
    â€˜It’s from the School Governor Services Department at County Hall, Mr Sheffield. It says that they note from our records that, following the retirement of our local authority governor, Ragley-on-the-Forest Church of England Primary School does not have its full complement on its governing body.’
    â€˜That’s correct,’ I said. ‘We have a vacancy following the retirement of Albert Jenkins.’
    Vera shook her head. ‘But you won’t believe what follows. It goes on to say they would like to recommend the services of
Mr Stanley Coe
to fill this position, as they understand from his application that he is an active member of the local community and has significant previous experience in the role of a governor. It requests a reply by thirteenth December.’
    â€˜They can have it now,’ I said. ‘It’s NO!’
    Vera sighed. ‘Thinking back, we didn’t tell them the reason for him leaving in the first place.’
    I recalled the unpleasant circumstances towards the end of my first year at Ragley when Stanley Coe had caused nothing but trouble. ‘Yes, Vera, you’re right. It was all very sudden as I remember.’
    Stan Coe, local pig farmer and serial bully, had been
persuaded
to resign back in 1978 and we were all relieved when he had departed.
    â€˜It’s just like the man to try to get back on a governing body,’ said Vera. She scanned the letter again and looked thoughtful. ‘I presume this letter will have gone to many schools in the area. As we know, governors come and go.’
    I looked out of the window. A little white Austin A40 had pulled into the car park. Joseph had arrived to take his weekly Bible stories lesson.
    â€˜Let’s see what Joseph says,’ I said.
    Vera held up another envelope with a Northallerton postmark. ‘This is addressed to Joseph as chair of governors. It’s probably the same letter.’
    Joseph sensed the tension as soon as he walked into the office and we explained our concern. He opened his letter and sighed. ‘Yes, it’s the same as yours,’ he said.
    â€˜And what is your response, Joseph?’ asked Vera, sounding very much like the big sister.
    â€˜Well, I suppose there’s not a great deal we can do about it,’ said Joseph rather lamely. ‘Maybe his absence from our governing body will have taught him a lesson and he will have realized that bullying at any level does not pay.’
    â€˜I very much doubt that,’ replied Vera.
    Joseph shook his saintly head. ‘Well, I would hate to show hard feelings after all these years. Perhaps he deserves a second chance.’
    â€˜Absolutely not, Joseph,’ said Vera firmly.
    â€˜Oh dear,’ sighed Joseph and looked at me for help.
    â€˜Joseph,’ I said quietly, ‘this man causes trouble wherever he goes. I don’t mind a governor who challenges