Wicked! (14 page)

‘They’ve got hundreds of middle-class parents who aren’t struggling to pay any school fees,’ raged Janna. ‘Of course they chip in. We don’t have middle-class parents at Larks.’

‘Ay take exception to that,’ bridled Chantal Peck.

‘That uncalled-for wemark should be struck from the minutes,’ said Ashton. ‘If you attwacted more pupils, we could allow you more money. So concentrate on your prospective-parents’ meeting. Wod Hyde will also be here to advise you next week.’ Then, at Janna’s look of outrage: ‘You’ll find him a bweath of fwesh air.’

‘An image that conjures up icy winds blasting in from Siberia,’ snapped Janna, ‘blowing everything that matters out of the window. I don’t want Rod Hyde telling me what to do. I just need more money.

‘The children need some treats,’ she pleaded. ‘They have such bleak lives. We should offer them rewards: a fun day out to look forward to and in recognition of good behaviour.’

‘What did you have in mind?’ asked Crispin sarcastically.

‘The London Eye perhaps, or Tate Modern. A lot of them have never been to the seaside or inside the cathedral or a museum.’

‘You’d trust them in a museum?’ said Cara incredulously.

‘Once they realized we did, they’d start behaving better.’

‘Which brings me to behaviour management,’ said Russell Lambert. ‘We notice you’ve introduced a new system of mentors.’

‘It worked very well at Redfords,’ said Janna defensively. ‘Means any kid can go to a mentor if they’re being bullied or have a problem. I had ten of the more responsible members of Year Eleven photographed last Thursday. Their pictures are now up in the corridors.’

‘A needless expense.’ Ashton smiled thinly. ‘Surely they could have brought photogwaphs from home.’

‘It made it more of an honour,’ said Janna. ‘They look really good.’

There was a knock on the door. It was Kylie Rose, come to collect her mother Chantal and bearing Cameron, a sweet jolly baby who’d inherited his mother’s blond, blue-eyed beauty. His charm was lost on Crispin Thomas, however, when his besotted grandmother thrust him into the deputy educational director’s arms, particularly when Cameron threw up on Crispin’s cream suit.

‘Come and see the mentors’ photographs,’ said Janna hastily, leading everyone off to admire the display, only to find the photographs had already been adorned with moustaches and squints, with the names crossed out and replaced by ‘Wanker’ and worse.

Janna promptly lost her rag again and shouted at anyone within range. She was just calming down when kind Kylie Rose tugged her sleeve.

‘You’re easily the best teacher in the school, miss.’

‘Am I?’ Janna was marginally mollified.

‘Easily the best at shouting,’ said Kylie Rose.

The governors smirked.

‘Phone for you,’ called Rowan from Janna’s office.

‘I’m busy.’

‘Says he’s an old friend from Redfords.’

Janna shot into the office.

‘I tried the cottage,’ announced Stew. ‘Somehow I knew you’d be still working.’

‘Oh Stew.’ How lovely to hear the broad, warm, measured Yorkshire accent.

‘How are you getting on, love?’

‘Horribly. It’s hell.’ Janna kicked her door shut. ‘I hate most of the staff. They gang up. There aren’t enough of them. The only nice guy’s been hijacked to head up another school. The deputy head’s a total lush.’

‘What about the kids?’

‘Animals, most of them.’

‘That’s not like you, Janna. What about your PA? She sounded friendly enough on the phone.’

‘Worst of the lot. She sneers, sneaks and pumps up my in-tray to demoralize me.’ Swinging round, Janna went scarlet; Rowan who must have quietly opened the door was standing outraged in the doorway. ‘I’ve got to go, Stew, ring me later at home.’

But Stew didn’t ring back. Why had she moaned so much?

Laugh and the world laughs with you, weep and you weep alone, her mother had always told her. If only she were still alive.

The fall-out was awful. Cara, backed up by Rowan, was straight on to Mike Pitts and the rest of the staff, reporting everything that had been said.

No one would meet Janna’s eye the next day. Molly the cook walked out. Even Wally, her dear friend, looked at her reproachfully, until she explained that she wanted to get in some gardening help, to free him for more important tasks.

That same morning, however, Debbie the cleaner, who’d been blown away by the big box of chocolates Janna had given her for blitzing the staffroom, came blushing into the head’s office. As she got on so well with Molly’s other assistants, how would Janna feel if they took over school dinners on a month’s trial?

‘Profoundly relieved,’ replied Janna. ‘Oh, Debbie, thank you, that’s the best bit of news I’ve had for ages. Start today.’

‘You deserve some luck,’ said Debbie. ‘Lots of us think you’re ’uman.’

Ironically, Janna was saved by the greatest tragedy. Towards the end of the day, which was 11 September, she was trying to explain Arthur Miller to a sullen group of fifteen-year-olds, who seemed only interested that he’d been married to Marilyn Monroe, when Rowan rushed in to say the World Trade Center had been hit.

Mike Pitts and Cara thought the school should carry on as normal. Janna insisted that this was history and the children must see it.

In no time, Wally had rigged up the big screen attached to a television in the main hall. The excited pupils lugged chairs in from the dining room to watch the terrible events unfold. At first, these were like so many Hollywood films, it was hard for them to understand it was the real thing. But they were soon screaming, sobbing and sometimes cheering. Janna stood to the side of the screen, explaining what was happening.

The Wolf Pack, when they first saw people leaping out of the flaming tower windows, exchanged glances, because they were always escaping that way, but here there was no wisteria to aid their descent, and horror gripped them too.

When it was time to go home, she called for a minute’s silence to pray for America and the suffering of its people, thanking God for the courage of the emergency services and hoping as many people as possible had escaped to safety.

Next day at assembly she gave everyone an update on the tragedy and who was responsible, and when fights broke out between the Muslim children and the Hindus and the Christians, she tried to impress on them that ordinary people weren’t to blame. She asked the senior classes to write poems about the tragedy. Paris’s was marvellous.

As the days passed, a huge mutual interest developed as the children learnt about the courage of the firemen and the brave search-and-rescue dogs. Some of the children said their parents thought Bin Laden was a hero, and more frightful fights ensued.

Cara and Mike Pitts, however, were constantly on the telephone, stirring up trouble. When it was crucial to raise Larks’s position in the league tables, why was Janna wasting the entire school’s afternoon watching television?

‘It’s called global citizenship,’ protested Janna when Ashton Douglas carpeted her.

‘Wod Hyde will be with you tomorrow,’ said Ashton nastily. ‘He’ll sort you out.’

12

Janna had always felt that one of the cruellest humiliations was when heads of very successful establishments known as ‘beacon schools’ were posted in to sort out failing schools, ‘yanking them up by the hair’ as the Education Secretary so charmingly put it.

Janna’s russet curls were well and truly yanked by the smug and self-regarding Rod Hyde who, as head of St Jimmy’s, had been forced to redesign his writing paper to accommodate all the awards and accolades his school had received.

Arriving at Larks, Rod immediately showed how well he got on with Janna’s staff, joshing Mike Pitts, Skunk Illingworth and Robbie Rushton, kissing Cara on both hollowed cheeks and warmly quizzing Sam Spink about her week at the TUC conference.

‘I’m sure you found it very empowering. You must debrief me over a few jars.’

Janna ground her teeth.

Known as Jesus Christ Superhead, Rod showed off his spare figure and muscular freckled arms by wearing short-sleeved shirts tucked into belted trousers. On colder days, he wore a rust-coloured cardigan to match his ginger beard.

A control freak, Rod received an emotional charge from acting as a ‘critical friend’, rolling up at Larks, telling Janna what was wrong with her and her school, attacking both her management skills and her teaching.

Janna, on the rare occasions she had time to teach, delivered the national curriculum as if it had been freed from its chains. When, on Rod’s first day, Lydia rang in sick at the prospect of teaching
Macbeth
to Year Nine E, Janna took over, refusing to be fazed when Rod parked himself at the back, busily making notes on his clipboard.

It happened to be the day when Rocky, the huge curly-haired autistic boy kept comparatively calm by Ritalin, was in one of his more eccentric moods. Wandering in, he took one look at Rod and shut himself in the store cupboard at the back of the classroom.

‘The Macbeths were a glamorous career couple,’ Janna was saying, ‘like Tony and Cherie Blair or Bill and Hillary Clinton. We tend to think of them as middle-aged and childless, but probably they were young, young enough to have kids who might inherit the throne, which may have been why Macbeth told Lady Macbeth to “bring forth men children only”.’

The class then had a spirited discussion on the right age to have children. Kylie Rose said ‘twelve’. They then moved on to Macduff being ripped untimely from his mother’s womb.

‘That’s a cop-out, miss,’ volunteered Paris.

‘I think Shakespeare meant that Macduff’s mum had a Caesarean,’ explained Janna, ‘but you’re right, Paris, it is a cop-out.’

How difficult not to be touched when she saw his pale face flood with colour.

‘You must also remember Macbeth was a mighty warrior, a fantastic killing machine.’

‘Like Russell Crowe in
Gladiator
,’ said Pearl.

‘Or Arnie in
Terminator
,’ said a sepulchral voice from the cupboard.

The class giggled.

‘Exactly, Rocky,’ called out Janna. ‘Macbeth was on a fantastic high having routed the terrorists who were trying to overthrow Duncan, the King of Scotland, who was also his wife’s cousin. Mighty Macbeth had been on a killing spree that was hugely applauded. Like scoring a hat trick for Arsenal or Liverpool. The world was at his feet.

‘Now tell me, what did Macbeth have in common with Stalin, Hitler and Saddam Hussein?’

‘They all had moustaches,’ shouted Pearl.

‘Like Baldie Hyde,’ called out the sepulchral voice from the cupboard.

More giggling as the class stared round at Rod.

‘They all deteriorated into tyrants and mass murderers,’ said Janna quickly. ‘Now, for homework, you’ve got two choices, one of which may appeal more to the girls, particularly you, Pearl. If you were a costume designer and in charge of make-up, how would you kit out the Weird Sisters?’

‘I’d put them in baggy, raggy, gypsy-style costumes,’ said Pearl, ‘wiv red and purple hair, blackened-out teeth and cruel scarlet mouths.’

‘Like Cara Sharpe,’ intoned Rocky from his hideout.

‘That’s enough,’ said Janna firmly. ‘The other choice is to imagine you’re a war correspondent like John Simpson or Kate Adie, and write a script telling the viewers at home about Macbeth’s first victory, bringing in the routing of the rebels, the Norwegian support and the butchering of the treacherous Thane of Cawdor, ripping him open or unseaming him “from the navel to the chaps”. If you’ve got time, you could list questions for an interview with Macbeth or Banquo and add Macbeth’s possible answers.’

Year Nine E were gratifyingly enraptured and groaned when the bell went. Throughout the lesson, however, Janna had kept seeing Rod Hyde’s tongue, green as a wild garlic leaf, as he pointedly yawned. Afterwards he couldn’t wait to tick her off.

‘You’re far too familiar, and if you digress all the time, you’ll never get them through their exams.’

‘They’re not taking GCSEs for nearly three years. I want them to enjoy Shakespeare.’

‘And you talk too much,’ Rod consulted his clipboard, as they walked back to her office. ‘Try to be a listening head rather than a talking one. Don’t take this personally,’ he added when Janna looked mutinous, ‘it’s for your own good.

‘And you must stop blowing your top. I know we redheads are volatile’ – he crinkled his small eyes – ‘but you lose dignity every time you raise your voice to students and colleagues. Ashton tells me you displayed unedifying aggression at the governors’ meeting. Has it occurred to you that you’re the reason so many of your staff are off with stress?’

Janna dug her nails into her palms and counted to ten. Next moment, she and Rod were sent flying by a yelling gang from Year Ten, stampeding like buffaloes towards the playground.

‘Don’t run,’ howled Janna.

‘Don’t run,’ said Rod quietly.

Infuriatingly the gang mumbled, ‘Sorry, sir,’ and shambled off.

‘You must instil discipline here.’ Rod shut her office door behind them. ‘Coloured hair, beaded necklaces, particularly for boys, rings in the navel or the tongue, and shaved heads must all go.’