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Authors: Jan Hurst-Nicholson

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Men
did not want women to be one of the lads; dirty jokes were their domain and a woman telling a dirty joke could be met with silent disapproval, even if the men repeated the joke to their friends and fell about laughing. Women felt they should be on their best behaviour around men, afraid of their disapproval if they discovered what groups of women really got up to.

But women do behave differently when
there are no men around. She remembered the time when Eleanor Stannard had shocked them all by suggesting that the electrician who was rewiring the classrooms did not wear underpants. “How on earth did you come to that conclusion?” Jenna had asked. Flustered and turning crimson, Eleanor had offered the explanation, “He was standing against my desk wearing loose track suit bottoms.” Raucous laughter had followed and Eleanor Stannard had never been allowed to forget it.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

 

At the final staff meeting before the end of the Autumn term they were hoping Adam would keep it short so that those who were impatient to get away for the ten-day break would have an early start. When they were all assembled Adam consulted the agenda. “Miss Murray, I believe you would like to discuss using electronic technology in the classroom instead of a blackboard and chalk.”

It was one of Jenna’s
pet topics, but had never been brought to fruition because neither Miss Edwards nor Eleanor Stannard had been comfortable with new technology. However, she was hoping that Adam would be open to the idea because computer science was one of his subjects. 

“We should be keeping up with the times and using electronic whiteboards and PowerPoint presentations,” Jenna began. “The staff could upload the information beforehand instead of wasting time writing it on a blackboard. I’m sure we could get more work done
, and more efficiently.”

“How does everyone else feel?” asked Adam.

Everyone else had secretly backed Miss Edwards and Eleanor Stannard. They were happy with the way things were and learning new technology did not come easily to most of them. But Jenna’s forceful personality had prevented them from actually challenging her about it. Now it looked as if she might finally get her way.

When no one spoke Adam said,
“New technology alone will not make much of a difference unless it’s coupled with a new way of teaching. If the girls are jotting down notes in a notebook, or on an electronic device, what’s the difference, except that with an electronic device you won’t know if they’re making notes or sending text messages?”

“Then we find a new way to teach,” replied Jenna.
“There are plenty of schools that have already gone over from using blackboards to the new technology.”

“But have they proved that it’s beneficial? Children are losing their short term memory tha
nks to electronic devices that store names, addresses and phone numbers so that they don’t have to remember them. I’ve also read reports that PowerPoint presentations, while liked by the students, do not necessarily result in improved performance or better grades.”

“So you’re completely dismissing the idea.”

“I didn’t say that. If I’ve got to motivate the governing body for the new technology then I need concrete facts and figures. If you can show me reports confirming that the pass rate will improve in ratio to the cost of buying the equipment and implementing a new way of teaching, then I’ll consider it.”

“When do you need the report by?”

“At your convenience,” said Adam.

“Should I put that in the minutes?” asked Lisa.

“No,” said Jenna. “You can put that I’ll have the report ready for the next staff meeting. I’ll do it over the holidays.”

“Thank you, Miss Murray. That’s very conscient
ious of you,” said Adam. “But I’m more concerned with the development of intellect than facts and figures learned parrot fashion. You can have degrees, and vast amounts of information, but unless you process it correctly it’s not much use in the challenges of everyday life.”

“I want to see the academic achievements of this school improving,” she replied
.

“As do I,”
said Adam. “But I also feel that too much emphasis on academic achievements can be at the expense of emotional development.”

“And what exactly do you mean by emotional development?”
Jenna asked.

“Now that more women are taking over management positions the girls need to learn
how to conduct themselves in a business environment. They should be confident enough to give a presentation without the help of PowerPoint.”

“As long as they’re taught the difference between self-confidence and arrogance,” said Jenna
with a tight smile.

“I’ll be sure to emphasise the
difference, Miss Murray,” Adam said in a dangerously calm voice. “And I’m equally sure that you’ll be able to teach them the fine line between assertiveness and aggression. Men might not respond as readily to aggressive women bosses.”

“Are you saying that strong women, even natural leaders, should
put that aside and use their feminine wiles to get what they want?”

“No. I said nothing of the sort. What I’m trying to explain, but obviously not very eruditely, is that women bosses do not have to use the same management style as men. Persuasion often works better for them.”

Barbara Crook broke in, “What I say is, use whatever works.”

Ignoring Barbara Crooks’ interruption Jenna
continued. “So men can just be themselves - dominating and arrogant towards their subordinates – but even if a woman is a natural leader she has to put on an act? Research indicates that leaders are born, not made.”

The staff started shifting uncomfortably in their seats and Lisa worried that Jenna might push Adam too far in these heated exchanges.
She’d never been this confrontational with anyone else. But there was not much he could do about her. He wasn’t in a position to hire and fire staff – that was up to the governing body.

“As an officer in the navy I was used to sailors obe
ying orders without question,” he said. “That did not apply when I entered the teaching profession. Adjusting to differing situations and circumstances is not putting on an act. Nor is remaining reasonable in the face of extreme provocation - it’s merely judicious. And if it’s true that leaders are born and not made, there is more than one way to lead.  In this case Miss Crook may be correct – whatever works,” he added, locking eyes with Jenna.

“So you want to change the ethos of the school?”

“In my opinion the whole way of teaching needs to change and adapt to twenty-first century technology. Information is available on the web and doesn’t need to be learned by rote. It was Albert Einstein who said ‘education is not the learning of facts, but the training of the mind to think.’ We should be teaching the girls emotional, intellectual, communication, analytical, interpersonal and social skills.”

As the antagonism
escalated, Kate O’Brien glanced surreptitiously at her watch. Her husband was waiting in the car park with the packed suitcases and some hastily made sandwiches.  They’d hoped to get into Wales before the bulk of the holiday traffic began.  She was worried he’d come in and embarrass her by asking how long they were going to be.

Barbara Crook was discreetly filing her nails under the table
. There was nothing on the agenda that concerned her.

Lauren Mathews crossed her arms impatiently.
She had things to do. Why did Jenna bother arguing with him? She should just agree and then do her own thing anyway.

Eleanor Stannard wondered whether it would be prudent to step in and diffuse things, but she was not entirely comfortable with the subject matter and didn’t want to take sides.

Annette Woolf
and Dee Taylor exchanged worried glances. Staff meetings had always been cordial affairs and differences of opinion handled with deference. This volatile situation was unprecedented and embarrassing.  

Only Hayley Price appeared unmoved. Living in a commune of opinionated artists she was used to arguments raging about her.

It was left to Lisa to look at her watch and consult the agenda. “It’s getting late. Perhaps we should get on to the next point,” she suggested, leaving Adam to move on to less controversial subjects.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

At the beginning of the new term Jenna handed her report on electronic teaching methods to Adam. He scanned down it until he came to the heading
‘Conclusion’
. “So you’re proposing that you visit a local school that has implemented the new teaching methods?” he said.

“Yes
, if that meets with your approval.”

“See if they have before and after exam results,” he said, snapping the file shut and handing it back to her.

As Jenna was leaving, Lisa hurried in to report that one of the girls had apparently slipped in the icy schoolyard and banged her head and appeared to be unconscious. All three of them ran to the schoolyard to find Glenda McKenzie lying prone on the asphalt. Lisa knelt beside her to see if she’d come round, but she didn’t appear to be responding. “We’d better get her inside,” she said.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” said Jenna, taking out her phone.

Adam put his arms under Glenda and gently picked her up. He was carrying her into the school building when she slid her arms around his neck. He caught the flash of a phone camera and saw the grin of triumph on Glenda’s face.

His face clouded with fury and he put her down and
quickly strode over to the girl holding the phone.

“Hand it over.”

She hesitated and he repeated in an icy tone, “I said, hand it over.”

She meekly placed it in his palm.

“Anyone else taken a picture?” he said, looking round, his eyes black with rage. The girls all shrank back. They’d never seen him so angry. 

He
crooked his finger at Glenda. “You. Come here.” She sauntered over with a smirk. “What the hell d’you think you’re doing?” He looked at the picture on the phone and turned to the girl who’d taken it.  “Have you forwarded this to anyone?”

‘No, Sir.”

“What were you going to do with it? Photoshop it into something else?”

Glenda stole a glance at Erica Rawlings.

Adam shoved the phone into his pocket. “You can pick it up at four fifteen. If you ever try any of these tricks again I’ll ban all phones during school hours.”

He strode angrily back to his office, followed by Lisa who felt it prudent not to say anything until he’d calmed down. This was just the sort of situation that could lead to all sorts of unsavoury repercussions
and was something Adam was stringently striving to avoid.

It was after four
-thirty and all the girls had left when Lisa heard a tap on her office door. An auburn head appeared round the door and Lisa asked. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, I’ve come to
collect my niece’s phone,” said the auburn-haired woman with an apologetic smile. I’m Faye Rawlings, Erica Rawlings’ aunt.”

“Oh, was it her phone? We assumed it was Glenda’s.”

“It’s a long story. Have you got the phone, we need it to keep in touch?”

“Mr Wild has it. Wait a moment and I’ll show you into his office.”

Adam had his elbow on the desk, his hand on his brow as he studied the budget. He’d loosened his tie and the top button of his shirt was undone.

“Adam, Faye Rawlings is here.
Erica Rawlings’ aunt. She’s here to collect her phone.”

He raised enquiring eyebrows.

“I’ll let her explain,” said Lisa gesturing for Faye to enter before returning to her office. Adam rose and smiling a greeting came round the desk to shake her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Rawlings. Would you like to take a seat,” he said, pulling out a chair for her.

He perched on the edge of the desk and took the phone out of his jacket pocket. “Is this Erica’s phone?”

“Yes. I bought it for her birthday two months ago,” said Faye, feeling as if it were an inquisition, as if she were back in school owning up to a misdemeanour. 

He scrolled down the menu and showed her the picture. “Has she explained why this picture was taken?”
he asked, handing her the phone.

She studied the screen. The picture showed him carrying Glenda
with her arms wound round his neck. She was smirking up at him. Faye had to admit that Erica had been right. Apart from Glenda’s smirk, it would have been ideal.

“I’m sorry about that. It’s a bit embarrassing.” She was about to put the phone in her bag when his hand covered hers. “Not so quick, Miss Rawlings,” he said, taking
back the phone. “I think I’d better delete this before it gets Photoshopped into something less innocent.” He deleted the picture before handing over the phone.

His own phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, taking it from his jacket pocket and glancing at the screen with a look of irritation. He moved behind his desk. “Yes,” he said curtly. “No. Not now. I’m in a meeting.” The caller must have been insistent. “I said, not now. I’ll call you back.” He switched off the phone before putting it back in his pocket. She was glad she hadn’t been on the end of that call.

He sat down at his desk and refocused his attention on her.

“Now. Perhaps you’d like to explain what she was going to do with the picture,” he said, leaning forward and smiling encouragingly.

This was awkward. Loyalty to Erica made her hesitate, and she’d have to make her own confessions. “I’m a freelance writer. But I also write novels. Romance novels.”

“Really?” he looked both surprised and interested.

“Yes. It’s my main source of income. I mostly e-publish them and have a few of each printed, mostly for friends and relatives.”

“So you’re a successful romance writer?”

“That depends on your idea of success.”

“And would a compromising picture of me in any
way help with that success?”

Faye shifted uncomfortably in her chair. His eyes seemed to be boring into her and she couldn’t look at him.
“This is embarrassing.”

He leaned back in his chair and
laced his fingers behind his head and smiled indulgently. “Tell me about it.”

“Erica and I were searching the internet for another stock picture to Photoshop for the cover of my next book.” She stole a look at him.

“And...”

“And I happened to mention that it was getting more and more difficult to get an original picture, one that hadn’t already been used. The best pictures tend to be used over and over, and even if they’re tweaked they’re still recognisable. You have to pay a lot of money for the exclusive rights to a picture.” Warming to her subject she continued. “There are millions of stock pictures, so you have to use search words. If you key in say, ‘
sexy man’
it will come up with hundreds of pictures.” Seeing his wry grin she suddenly realised what she’d said and felt the blood rush to her face.

“So you use search words. I’m beginning to get the picture, if you’ll excuse the pun.”

“Erica claims it was Glenda’s idea to stage that whole charade,” she heard herself babbling. She finally found the courage to look him in the face. “Erica is mortified.”

“Well, I hope Erica will recover and that you
’ll eventually find the picture you’re looking for,” he said.

“I’m sure we will,’ she replied, getting up to leave. 

He stood and showed her to the door. “Nice meeting you, Miss Rawlings.”

When she’d left he
went into Lisa’s office. “Did you know that Erica Rawlings’ aunt writes romance novels?”

“No. I knew she was a freelance writer, but I didn’t know about the novels. I’ll have to look out for them.”

“Do you read romance novels?” he said.

“N
ot really, but if I knew the author I might be tempted.”

“What do you know about Erica? Why is her leg in a calliper?”

“It’s a bit vague, but I think her mother, Faye’s older sister, got into drugs when she was a teenager and fell pregnant and there were complications. Erica has never mentioned her mother and it seems that Faye has brought her up since she was a baby.”

Adam sighed and shook his head. “Another life skewed by drugs.”

Lisa closed down her computer. “Do you mind if I go now? Neil is taking me out for a meal.”

“Have fun,”
he said, and was about to return to his office when he asked, “Do you know how Danielle Du Bois got my private number?”

“I’ve no idea. It certainly wasn’t from me,”
she said. She knew he had two phones, one for business and another strictly for family and close friends. Very few people had that number.

“I wonder how she got hold of it,” said Adam.

“I didn’t realise you knew her,” Lisa said. But then her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh no. Now I remember. We were at the sailing club and she followed me into the toilets. She asked if she could use my phone. I gave it to her when I went into the cubicle. She must have searched my address book for your number. Adam, I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. She’s a cunning little bitch, isn’t
she?”

“You don’t know the half. Please be careful
, she can be vicious if she’s crossed.”

“Thanks,
I’ll try not to cross her,” he said, and returned to his office.
                A few minutes later Faye Rawlings tapped gently on Adam’s office door. He looked up in surprise and motioned for her to enter.

“Is there a problem?”

“This is so embarrassing. My car won’t start. I’ve called the AA but it could be an hour before they can get here. If we can just push it outside into the road then we won’t keep you.”

“Do you want me to have a look at it?”

“No. No, it’s ok, I wouldn’t want you to dirty your suit. I’m sure they won’t be long.”

“I’ll be here for a while anyway. Why don’t you both wait in reception?”

“Thanks, but Erica is too embarrassed to face you. We’ll sit in the car.”

“All right. Let me know when the AA gets here.”

It only took the patrol man thirty minutes to arrive, but he couldn’t get the car started and called for a tow-truck.

“Mr Wild, I’m sorry, but they have to tow my car to the garage,” Faye said,
feeling as mortified about the situation as Erica.

“In that case I’d better give you a lift home.”

She wanted to refuse, to say she’d catch the bus, but her car was full of groceries. “That’s very kind of you. I don’t live too far away - in Brook Lane. Are you sure it won’t be any trouble?”

“No problem. It’s actually on my way home,” he said, shutting down his computer.

He helped Faye stow the groceries in the back of his Jeep before assisting Erica into the back seat, the calliper on her leg making it difficult to get up the high step. She still couldn’t face him and muttered a ‘thank you’ into her chest.

Then he helped Faye into the front passenger seat before climbing into the driver’s seat. She was impressed how clean and tidy the interior was. There was even a faint smell of car freshener, unlike her own car that was filled with spare and just-in-case emergency supplies of tissues and bottled water and cloths -
and sometimes smelled of garden compost.

In less than ten minutes he was pulling into her driveway.  He stopped in front of the garage, which she knew was in need of some paint.  “Let me help you carry the groceries in,” he said, already helping Erica out of the back seat, who scuttled off to her room to avoid further embarrassment.  

He helped Faye carry the grocery bags through the hallway and dining room and into the tiny kitchen, leaving her feeling guilty about the dirty cup and saucer she’d left in the sink. When everything was safely inside she asked, “Would you like some tea? I’ve got herbal tea.”

“How do you know I drink herbal tea?”

“Spies.”

“At St Mary’s?”

“No.” Now it was her turn to grin. “One of the girl’s mother works at the supermarket. You’re not hard to miss, especially with your accent. They know all your secret little vices.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have to be careful what I buy in future. Or get my mother-in-law to do my shopping.”

“Will she be willing to do
all
your shopping?” she asked, with an impish grin.

Now it was his turn to look embarrassed.

“You haven’t said if you’d like herbal tea.”

“Yes, yes I would like some herbal tea.”

“What type?”

“Surprise me.”

“Why don’t you come and choose. I grow my own herbs in the greenhouse.”

“That’s very enterprising,” he said, following her out of the door and into the garden.

Erica heard the murmur of voices and peeped through her bedroom window. Faye was taking him into the greenhouse. She couldn’t believe he was here, in her house. She watched them for a while before turning to her laptop. She opened the file titled: 
“Forbidden Love”
and began typing.
Adam and Erica strolled through the garden hand in hand, their love for each other obvious to anyone who saw them.

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