Wicked! (72 page)

‘See his long nails for digging up pig nuts for his master. Caliban is a really sympathetic character,’ Sophy went on, ‘he’s a bit ugly, but he longs to help and be loved and he says beautiful poetic things. Some horrid sailors are shipwrecked on his island and get poor Caliban drunk, so he makes a fool of himself. He adores Miranda, his boss’s daughter.’

A picture of a pretty blonde in a ruff and long Elizabethan dress appeared on the whiteboard. ‘But she’s in love with someone else, and I’m sure you all know how it hurts when you love someone who doesn’t love you.’

Wade Hargreaves couldn’t imagine anyone not loving Sophy.

‘And I bet lots of you boys when you go to parties feel shy of chatting up girls, so you drink too much and fall over – well, that’s Caliban.’

‘He’s gentle giant like King Kong,’ piped up Kata.

‘Exactly.’

‘And Monster Norman, except he’s horrible.’

‘No, no.’ Sophy looked round nervously. ‘Anyway, this is Alizarin’s picture, and now I want you all to produce your own idea of Caliban. You’ve got paints on each table and plasticene and paper. Try not to paint each other. Anyone who comes up with an interesting idea can have one or two of these.’ She waved a tin of Quality Street. ‘Now: ready, steady, go.’

Sitting at the back of the class Wade and Miss Spicer made notes on their clipboards and watched Sophy advising, praising, laughing, screaming with joy – ‘That is so good!’ – and occasionally remonstrating: ‘Don’t put that blue brush back in the white pot, Jasper.’

The children, particularly the ones who couldn’t speak English, were having a ball. As they slapped on paint or modelled in plasticene or clay, a wonderful zoo emerged.

‘I can’t do his nails,’ wailed Kata.

On cue in pattered Partner and obligingly held up a paw so they could see his claws.

‘Good boy.’ Sophy hugged him and rewarded him with the Quality Street green-wrapped triangle which was all chocolate.

‘That is really cool, Anwar,’ she cried, pausing beside a Pakistani boy’s desk. ‘You’ve made Caliban look happy because he’s asleep. That’s in the text: he was so hurt by humans, only in dreams did he find happiness, and when he woke he cried to dream again. This is so good. Brilliant colours too. Lay it out on that chair to dry.’

What a lovely young woman, thought Wade wistfully. Shortly afterwards he was so impressed by another painting of Caliban he sat down on Anwar’s picture to study it and was left with red, blue, green and purple splodges all over the seat of his elegant beige suit.

The children screamed with laughter.

‘Oh, goodness,’ wailed Sophy, ‘you look more like a mandrill than a nimble marmoset. I’m so sorry. I’ll get it dry cleaned or take it home and wash it for you.’

‘Don’t give it a thought, I might start a fashion.’

Janna, who’d just been forced into giving Monster a detention for cheeking some other member of the inspection team, was vastly cheered when she peered into Sophy’s classroom and saw even Miss Spicer laughing.

As the bell rang for break, Year Eight bore Wade off to the playground to show him the bird table.

‘That’s a robin.’

‘No, stupid, it’s a bullfinch.’

‘This is the pond,’ said Kata, leading him out into the garden. ‘We’re going to clean it to encourage wild lives. Wally’s made a ladder so anything drowning can climb out. And he’s going to build a duck house and a bridge to the island.’

‘Perhaps Miss Curtis will get you some fish.’

How nice he is, thought Janna, watching from the window, but we mustn’t be lulled into a false security.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ she asked as he returned from his tour to her office.

She’d just put on the kettle, when Stormin’ Norman roared in. ‘You know Martin don’t do detentions on a Thursday. You’re depriving him of his liberty.’

She was about to punch Janna, who was protesting that surely it was Wednesdays, when Wade stepped out from behind the door, where he’d been admiring some stills from
Romeo and Juliet
.

‘I wouldn’t.’

‘And ’oo the fuck are you?’ yelled Stormin’ Norman. ‘Another of ’er fucking fancy men?’ But at least her fist stopped in mid-air.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Chally, bright red in the face.

‘One of the Croatians has exposed himself to Year Seven. I said, “We don’t do things like that here, Roman, put it away,” but he laughed in my face so I called back-up.’

‘Front-up, more likely,’ said Janna, trying not to laugh.

‘This is serious, Senior Team Leader.’

They were distracted yet again by a yell and the crash of plasterboard. Pearl’s boxer father had rolled up drunk again and discovered Graffi’s father, whom he suspected of once pleasuring his wife, fast asleep in the interview room.

‘I told you it was in my genes,’ said Pearl smugly as the police arrived to remove both her father and Stormin’ Norman.

71

On Friday afternoon Wade called a meeting after school to report on his team’s findings. Russell, Ashton and Crispin arrived early. As the interview room had been temporarily totalled by Pearl’s boxer dad, they were ushered into Janna’s office, where they drank tea, guzzled Debbie’s chocolate cake and rubbed their hands in anticipation of a serious drubbing for little Miss Curtis.

Crispin, who was perched on the sofa beside Ashton, murmured that Debbie was an excellent cook.

‘She’ll be looking for a job tomorrow,’ murmured back Ashton. ‘I’ll put in a good word at County Hall. Perhaps she could come and do for me.’

As Mike Pitts was still off with stress, Mags had been asked by Janna to stand in for him. Pacing up and down outside, Mags had never felt so tired. She was so worried for Janna, who never failed to wear her generous heart on her sleeve.

‘Any room for a little one?’ said Cindy Payne, the Larkshire county councillor in charge of education, parking her red-trouser-suited bottom on the sofa between Crispin and Ashton. Both men would have liked to edge away but were too firmly wedged.

Russell had commandeered a big upright chair. In his hand was another letter of complaint from Miss Miserden about Larks hooligans swearing and kicking balls into her garden.

‘Thought you might like to see this, Inspector.’

Wade, sitting at an imported table shifting papers and flanked by Miss Spicer and Mrs Mills, hardly glanced at the letter before handing it back.

‘Sorry to keep you.’ Janna rushed in followed by Partner. She settled down at her desk, ramming her hands between her thighs to conceal their trembling. So many things had gone wrong; so many bricks dropped; so many children out of control. Mags, sliding into a little red armchair beside her, squeezed her arm.

Through the window they could see the children running home through the pouring rain, their coats over their heads. After the row at the last governors’ meeting, Russell’s eyes refused to meet Janna’s.

‘Hope you survived,’ he said heartily to the three inspectors.

‘Extremely well,’ said Wade, then turning to Janna, ‘thank you for your hospitality. We have been made most welcome and given every assistance in forming our opinions.’

Then he unleashed both barrels. Larks in a word was being used by S and C and the county council as a pupil referral unit, or rather a dumping ground for all the rubbish kids with behaviour problems that were expelled from other schools.

‘After four days, however, my team and I were delighted to see what efforts are being made by the staff to tackle attendance, unauthorized absence and deplorable behaviour. Support for vulnerable pupils is excellent, as is mentoring. Despite standards being constantly eroded by the behaviour of certain parents and a very disruptive band of children, bad behaviour is dealt with swiftly. Special needs are catered for well within very limited resources. Overall adherence to the curriculum has also been observed.’

Slowly, slowly, Janna felt her foot leaving the bottom of the sea as she drifted upwards towards the sunlight.

Wade consulted his notes. ‘The teaching of the older staff is less than satisfactory. Their lessons are often dull, their marking unhelpful.’ He pinpointed Chally, Mike Pitts, who had once sacked him, Skunk, Basket, Sam Spink and Robbie. Janna bit her lip: all her
bêtes noires
.

‘On the other hand, language teaching was excellent.’ Wade smiled at Mags. ‘So was Miss Cambola’s music and Mr Mates’s science.’ He then praised Janna’s appointments: the new deputy head of history and the head of D and T, and in particular Sophy Belvedon. ‘Quite excellent, we much enjoyed her English lesson bringing in both art and drama disciplines.

‘Despite the appallingly deprived lives of so many of the children, this is a happy school, a haven which makes many of their lives bearable.’

Russell was rotating his signet ring; Cindy’s little dark eyes were like those of an angry swan; Crispin, swelling like a balloon about to pop, seized the last piece of chocolate cake. Janna put her burning face in her hands. She must be dreaming.

‘Janna Curtis’ – Wade smiled at Janna’s bowed head – ‘is clearly very popular with pupils and parents for whom she appears to act as a Citizens’ Advice Bureau, and by all the staff except the reactionary and the work-shy. She has also had considerable success winning over the community.’

He also praised the excellent displays in reception and on the walls and particularly the hard work and cheerful contribution of Wally and Debbie.

‘I shall miss her flapjacks. The beautiful grounds are in good order,’ he went on, ‘although the children need a playing field.’

Everyone jumped as a football smacked the window.

Much of Wade’s disapproval was reserved for the state of the buildings – one of which had collapsed on a member of the inspection team – the atrocious damp, erratic central heating and leaking roofs.

‘Which leads me back to the appalling poverty of resources,’ he said bleakly. ‘We get the impression that both S and C Services and the county council, for some reason, have been deliberately withholding money. From the minutes, the governors appear to have been totally unsupportive to Janna Curtis’ – Wade glared at Russell – ‘ganging up and scapegoating her. In this they have been hugely aided by a local press so unrelentingly damaging that one might imagine conspiracy.’

As Partner gnawed on an old beef bone given him by Debbie, Ashton lost it.

‘Get that bloody dog out of here.’ He aimed a kick at Partner, who yelped.

Wade raised an eyebrow. ‘If Larks fails,’ he concluded, ‘it will not be Janna Curtis’s fault. As I’ve said, like its name, Larks is a happy place.’

Janna sat stunned, then, leaping to her feet, ran round and shook hands with a smiling Miss Spicer and Mrs Mills. She turned to Wade and, unable to stop herself, flung her arms round his neck and kissed him, leaving pink lipstick marks on both cheeks.

‘Oh, thank you all, thank you, thank you,’ she cried tearfully.

‘Janna kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in,’ sighed Wade and then beamed. ‘I’m sure you want to pass on the good news to your staff,’ he told her. ‘I’ll be sending you a full report.’

‘Thanks so much.’ Janna bolted, unable to face the rage of the Gang of Four, who retreated to the Evil Office to lick terrible wounds.

‘Curtis clearly dropped her knickers,’ said Crispin pouring four large brandies.

‘I’ve never been so insulted in my life,’ spluttered Cindy Payne. ‘Can we sue?’

‘I can only resign,’ said Russell. ‘Scapegoated indeed. That trollop.’

‘You stay put,’ ordered Ashton. ‘We’ve got work to do.’

Hengist brought round two bottles of Veuve Clicquot, lit Lily of the Valley scented candles and to the accompaniment of
Capriccio
on Radio 3 gave Janna a bath.

Slowly, lingeringly, he ran soap over her breasts and up between her legs, groping and fingering, then slapped her lightly on the bottom. ‘Are you going to be good tonight?’

After he’d dried her, they collapsed in front of the sitting-room fire, made all the more cosy by the relentless patter of the rain outside.

‘I cannot believe it,’ sighed Janna. ‘Wade’s looks went everywhere and he seemed to like what e’er he looked on.’

‘Your Ofsteady boyfriend, clearly a man of discernment,’ said Hengist.

‘He virtually accused S and C of malpractice. Cindy looked so pained, Crispin misery-ate most of Debbie’s chocolate cake and Ashton went totally silent, but his eyes . . .’ Janna shuddered. ‘Then he kicked Partner. Spicer was so nice in the end and Wade – well!’

‘You bewitched him,’ said Hengist.

Pushing her back on the fluffy rug, he ran his tongue along the tender undersides of her breasts, but Janna couldn’t get into the mood for sex.

‘He loved me for the dangers I had passed,’ she murmured, echoing Othello. ‘And I loved him that he did pity me. This is the only witchcraft I have used. He realized I’d been scapegoated.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t butcher a perfectly good noun,’ sighed Hengist. ‘Scapegoated is worse than showcase.’

‘It was the scapegoat curry wot did it,’ giggled Janna, ‘and probably Sally’s good-luck card. I feel so guilty.’