When the worm turns, the circle is complete

When the biologists met for one of their weekly departmental meetings to discuss the infamous Year 11 revision programme, Hannah gained some unexpected common ground with her fellow scientists.
‘What we need for this year group are revision test questions of a type which will prevent them from calling out the question for somebody else to answer during the test,’ suggested Timmy Baldman.
‘Yes, I agree,’ piped up Kent.
‘What? Let me get this clear,’ Hannah asked calmly. ‘The pupils call out the test questions…so that someone else can answer them?’
‘Yes. They always do it,’ explained Kent.
‘And they do it to me,’ added Wicksy.
‘But I found that with The Class From Hell!’ she exclaimed, the frustration clearly showing in her voice. ‘And I thought I was the only one it was happening to! I’d never come across that before, with any class in any school!’
The biologists all looked at her without saying a sound: Timmy, Neil, Wicksy, Kent, and the chief technician. Neil looked very sheepish, remembering how determined he had been to shake off The Class From Hell once he became housemaster of School House; and Timmy’s Adam’s apple moved noticeably outwards as the uncomfortable moment passed through his being. They all knew that the bad behaviour in Year 11 was widespread but it was characteristic of the school not to warn her and, in Timmy’s case, not to support her either.
She wondered why Kent had kept so quiet about it all. Could it be that he had seen and heard what was happening to her and as a new member of staff had kept his mouth firmly shut? Or had he done something to feel guilty about? Had his loose tongue carried her opinions wider than they should have gone and consequently contributed towards Watt Grayman forcing her to an investigatory meeting and signing a confidentiality agreement? After all, he was the one who was gaining the reputation as a gossip and he was a tutor in the same boarding house as Phosgena Large, the personnel manager! But there was nothing to be gained in labouring the point because the damage had been done: she had been the one who stood up against the system and she was the one on whom the walls of Faggs School had come tumbling down upon.
But what other things might she discover about the way the school worked before she left?
Or had she uncovered enough?

The argument between Kent and two of his Year 11 boys over the issue of detention, for overtly eating crisps in the laboratory and squirting a female pupil with water, was a typical case-in-point of the antagonistic behaviour so prevalent at the school. The conversation between the three of them ran along very similar lines to those which Hannah would have with several members of The Class From Hell, on a regular basis.
‘But we didn’t do anything!’ the two boys lied, convincingly.
‘Yes, you did,’ came Kent’s reply.
‘But you didn’t warn us not to squirt water or eat in class!’ one of the boys exclaimed cheekily, smirking.
‘Yes, I did.’
‘But you didn’t punish anyone else and they were doing it as well,’ exclaimed the other, grinning.
‘No, they weren’t.’
‘But you’re not being fair.’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘No, you’re not!’ they argued, sticking their heels in further.
‘I’m not prepared to discuss the matter any further,’ declared the frustrated teacher.
The crux of the matter was they hated the idea of a Saturday night detention because that was when they had their disco night.
And their vodka.
‘But I’ve got twelve to fourteen of them in one class behaving like that most of the time!’ exclaimed Hannah, realizing Kent was only now experiencing what she had been suffering all along. And look where it had landed her in speaking out?
‘And did you see how they were waiting outside the workroom door to confront him and carry on with their argument?’ asked Wicksy, in a disgusted tone. ‘That’s a clear case of harassment.’
‘Yes,’ mused Hannah. ‘I had that with spotty Tom Marks from The Class From Hell. He’d been disruptive during the lesson, as usual…calling out names, laughing out loud, making noises, calling Poonutter’s name in a racist way, lying to me…you know, the usual things…and he literally came running after me in the corridor to get me to change my mind about giving him a Saturday night detention. ‘I’m going to see the assistant head about this!’ he threatened, as if he expected the man would overturn my decision! The cheek of it!’
‘So what happened then?’ asked Wicksy, recognizing the scenario from his own experiences.
‘Well, with the way things have gone for me here, I was afraid the boy would get his way. Neil, his housemaster, certainly tried his hardest to get him off the detention list but I refused to go along with it. After all, this boy had been causing me trouble ever since I arrived and he deserved his detention for lying, yet alone for his disruptive behaviour.’
‘Good for you,’ replied Wicksy. ‘It’s disgraceful that Neil tried to get Tom off the hook. As his housemaster, he should have been stronger than that and face up to the disruptive boys in his house.’
‘Well, I later regretted putting him in for detention because it was the last Saturday night of the winter term and, of course, he had to miss the last Year 11 social night. As a result, I was slow hand-clapped out of chapel after the carol service which made me feel totally humiliated.’
It just gets worse here, thought Wicksy, shaking his head at his colleague’s experience. I’m working class and I hate all of this.

Wicksy and Hannah found themselves alone in the workroom one day.
‘I’m sure you’re looking forward to leaving this place,’ Wicksy stated suddenly, wanting to talk.
‘Oh, yes,’ replied Hannah, laughing. ‘Believe me, I am!’
‘People think you were pressurized into resigning.’
‘Yes, I was,’ she replied, honestly. ‘But Vernon Peters is the only one who knows exactly what went on and he’s been fantastic.’
‘I also think this all began and ended with Nadolf Fitler,’ Wicksy theorised, confidently.
‘Yes, you could be right. I’ll probably write a letter to the governors about it one day, after my children have left school.’
Or I may have forgotten about it all by then.
Later that day, when Hannah had some time to think about Wicksy’s comment, she thought it unfair he would be left with a negative impression of her leaving, given her success in previous schools. So, the next day, she took opportunity to delve further.
‘Is that you opinion, then? That I was forced to resign?’
‘Yes, from what I could make out of what went on.’
‘And how much do you think Timmy was involved? Do you think he colluded with Nadolf?’
‘Definitely.’
‘But Timmy hates Nadolf.’
‘I know that but Timmy wants his job. I really don’t know how you put up with it, working with those two knowing what they did to you. I would have been livid! And then to be invited to a buffet with the governors is appalling. Do they have no understanding at all of what Timmy and Nadolf did to you!’
Wicksy was clearly at loggerheads with coming to terms with how people behaved at Faggs School as was Hannah herself but the governors’ buffet at Grayman’s rambling old school house on the edge of the school site had been a resounding political success for Hannah. By that stage, everyone was aware of her move to another boarding school but to all intents and purposes, from the effusive welcome Grayman and his wife gave to her on her arrival and the positive and interesting conversations she had with some of the governors during the evening, one would never have known she was leaving under a cloud at all. There was no over-cautious eye kept on her, to check she did not spill the beans on the dirty tricks of some of her colleagues and the poor behavior of the pupils – well, not that she noticed – no snide, underhand remarks that she had been such a professional failure or even any reference made to her new position as head of biology at Flogham School. Grayman had even taken great pains to keep Sarin well away from Hannah, forcing Sarin to maintain a quiet, subdued presence in an adjacent room on her own. Whilst he probably did this to prevent any confrontation between the two female members of staff, he must have also feared Hannah’s ability to cause trouble for him with the governors had she chosen that moment to do so. Only Kent made reference to how badly behaved the pupils were at the school that evening which amused Hannah enormously because each time he mentioned it to a different governor, an uncomfortable silence ensued; no one dared take up the opportunity to discuss it further, much to Kent’s noticeable frustration. No, it is true to say during that evening she suddenly woke up from her bad dream and returned to her normal social self again.
‘Well, if I had to admit it I’m amazed myself how calm I am,’ continued Hannah, her thoughts returning to the present. ‘But it’s only because everything is working out for me that I can laugh and put it down to experience. In all fairness, Nadolf and Timmy have been really good to me lately, probably because they’ve realized the whole episode won’t reflect well on them when word gets out. If you think about people like Lord Archer or Cecil Parkinson…naughty boys who were later welcomed back into the fold…that’s what the governors are doing to me: keeping me in the fold and keeping me sweet because I’m going to Flogham School. When I visited Flogham recently, one of the biologists told me he’d known several teachers who’d worked at Faggs School and they all said it was an appalling place to work! The head of science even asked me what was wrong with Nadolf Fitler! I didn’t tell him anything; of course, as I thought I’d wait to divulge the truth when I got there! Unfortunately, one of the awful things about this place is the way they look for loopholes in people’s contracts so that they don’t have to pay them. With me, they’re not going to pay me in August; but with the school photographer, it’s July and August.’
‘But it’s disgusting!’ exclaimed Wicksy. ‘If word gets out this sort of thing is going on, then no one will want to come here!’
‘Yes, you’re right. But the headmaster also wanted to push you out as well, didn’t he?’ asked Hannah, trying to deflect the conversation away from herself. She wanted to hammer home the point that others had experienced the same sort of mismanagement as she had.
‘Yes, he did. He asked me to look for another job elsewhere but then he changed his mind.’
‘Well, eventually he would have changed his mind about me.’
‘Yes, he would have done.’
‘He seems to make knee jerk decisions and then probably regrets them afterwards,’ suggested Hannah.
‘Yes, you’re right, I think he does. The worrying thing is, though, these kids will never get used to being taught by a female scientist.’
‘You’re right! They’ll never keep their female scientists here if this sort of behaviour continues and I can tell you if they won’t listen to me then they won’t listen to anyone because I’ve always been known as someone who has her classes under good control.’
‘Yes, but the problem was you came in with a sledgehammer.’
‘What? Wanting them to be quiet whilst I was teaching and to do their work quietly?’
‘Well, you seem to have higher standards than what goes on here. These kids are badly behaved, rude and insolent to their teachers.’
‘But I can’t teach them when they’re all constantly talking and behaving like that!’ she replied, aghast at his suggestion that she had expected too much of her classes, especially The Class From Hell. Classes she had witnessed with a male member of staff were always quiet so why then was she labelled as having higher standards whilst all she wanted was what the men easily achieved with their powerful booming voices, something which she did not have?
‘And anyway, I seem to have had a rougher deal at this school than anyone else around me, particularly compared to the other new members of staff.’
‘Yes. You do seem to have been given a rougher deal than most,’ agreed Wicksy, honestly. ‘Up until now, Timmy has been thought of as being excellent in everything he did, especially when he was a head of science in one of his previous schools but I have to say I’ve not been impressed since he’s taken over as head of department.’
‘I agree. And he certainly wasn’t interested in listening to what I had to say about The Class From Hell.’
‘So what did you do for references when you got your new job?’
‘I used the deputy head from Queensford School, who was not only a personal friend but a supportive colleague as well. Vernon also very kindly offered to be a referee. I didn’t use Timmy as I couldn’t trust what he would have written about me after my awful appraisal with him at the end of my first term.’
She momentarily thought about Isadora, her colleague in the Spanish department. She had asked a question which went along similar lines to Wicksy’s when they had returned to school after the Easter break.
‘I thought you wouldn’t be able to get another job,’ Isadora had let slip.
‘Why did you think that?’ asked Hannah, immediately aware what the answer would be.
‘Timmy told my husband and me all about you losing your job.’
She remembered feeling decimated by Isadora’s revelation but then not long after that, she had bumped into one of the housemasters in the supermarket who admitted that Hannah’s housemistress had told him she had been asked to leave the school! Whilst she had struggled to keep her mouth closed for a whole term and was succeeding with flying colours, her colleagues already knew about her plight because Timmy and her housemistress had told them! They had broken her confidentiality agreement!
‘I’ve also heard Nigella’s having a rough time at the moment as well,’ continued Wicksy, noticing Hannah’s preoccupation.
‘Yes, she is. She’s paranoid about Nadolf Fitler.’
‘Why’s that? In case she loses her job?’
‘No, it hasn’t got that far yet but she’s had a meeting with Watt Grayman and Sarin Fleischman to discuss what Nadolf has written in her appraisal statement which she said was wrong and so she contested it. If I’d have known that avenue was open to me, then I don’t think I would be in this position now.’
‘And then there’s that top set in Year 10 who’ve really been playing Timmy up all year,’ Wicksy reminded her, thinking of their head of department’s black looks and silent grinding of his teeth after each of his lessons with the darlings. ‘It really pisses me off to think he’s showing us his disdain for them to give the impression he’s one of us.’
Hannah had actually asked Timmy whether anyone had reported his naughty class to Sarin, knowing he would never have done such a thing. At the time, she was feeling frustrated and full of hate for him and she sensed her direct question would have annoyed him immensely. It certainly wouldn’t have looked good for him to lose face, to admit he too was having a hard time with what was another badly behaved and very rude class.
Of over-privileged rich kids.

Before Timmy, Neil had been an impressive head of biology and although he was obsessively jealous about his teaching materials, which he refused to share with any of his hard-pressed colleagues, his management of the department was a resounding success – well, as far as its examination results were concerned at least. When it came to his man management skills, however, Neil was sadly lacking on this front and his once-good academic reputation quickly started to dribble away, after just a few months in his new post as housemaster of School House.
‘Jeremiah was playing up again today in my lesson with Set 5,’ Hannah informed him, although she knew Neil would do nothing about it.
‘Well, I’m going to make him my head of house in a year’s time, when he reaches the upper sixth.’
‘You can’t do that!’ she exclaimed, venting her feelings openly. ‘He’s so rude and badly behaved!’
‘But he’s the best of the bunch!’ Neil replied frustratingly, his large protruding eyes darting around the room. He knew she was right but was too weak to admit it.
‘Look, all of Jeremiah’s science teachers have been bearing the brunt of his bad behaviour in class and we’ve not bothered you because you’ve been so busy in your new post.’
‘Well, he’s OK for me,’ Neil concluded finally, non-plussed. ‘And I just don’t see what his teachers are on about.’
That says it all, thought Hannah, sighing. How many times have I heard that?
Socially, there was no doubt that pupils at the school were entertaining company, especially when alcohol was around; it was just in the classroom that their other aggressive, demanding sides shone through. It was also the case that no matter how badly behaved they were in class, for their housemaster they projected the impression butter would not melt in their mouths. And all because their housemaster could make or break their school careers, and thereafter.
So, it seemed that Faggs School would never change because nobody believes you and nobody supports you.
And it’s not that they can’t, it was just a question of…
They won’t.

When the pupils returned to school after the summer half term break, they were mentally prepared to suffer revision ad nauseam to make up for their laziness of the last few years. Luckily for Hannah, she was deemed inadequate to take part in the series of revision lectures planned for the examination classes which, deep down, she was thankful for. Her diary that last half term of the academic year, a red file which she carried around with her everywhere, gave an insight into the overt discord amongst pupils and staff at Faggs School.

Tuesday 10th June
Timmy said Ackmed from The Class From Hell was blowing loud raspberries at his friends whilst he was trying to give Year 11 a revision lecture today.
‘But I told you this sort of behaviour was going on a long time ago,’ I told him accusingly, in front of Kent and Wicksy. ‘And no one except Vernon believed me!’
When Timmy and I were alone together in the workroom later on, I asked him, as a trap: ‘Did I upset you by what I said about Ackmed’s behaviour?’
‘No, far from it. I agreed with you and I knew exactly what you were on about.’
Then, Timmy Baldman, you’ve just proved to me that you are a two-faced bastard.

Hirsuter Montage, the manly, over-weight housemistress was also having a hard time. One of her girls was knocked down by a car outside her boarding house and the parents were quite rightly making a huge fuss. Another girl had had enough of the life in Hirsuter’s boarding house and had run away, whilst her assistant housemistress, Nigella, was mouthing it large behind her back how aggressive and difficult Hirsuter was to work with.
Kent was also annoyed with Hirsuter because she had made an official complaint against him.
‘What did you do to her, then?’ I asked, laughing.
‘I made her move over as I was passing through the doorway into the common room.’
‘Did you rub her up a bit or something?’ I asked, jokingly.
‘Yes, I did a bit but only accidentally,’ he added, with a twinkle in his eye. ‘And then she reported me saying I had molested her!’
I shook my head in disbelief when I heard that.
What were these people like?

The school photographer managed to get Phosgena Large, the personnel manager, to sort out her pay for July and August before she moves on to her new job at another boarding school but there’s no luck for me, I’m afraid. The chief technician warned me a long time ago how evil Phosgena could be after a brushing he had with her over changes to the technicians’ employment contracts, which they were quite rightly worried about. We were in the workroom together today and, as nobody was around, I let him have a peep into what had happened to me, although I had a sneaking suspicion he already knew.
‘I’ve got to be careful what I say to people about my dealings with Phosgena,’ I explained to him cautiously, during our conversation about the evil witch, ‘because the school has made me sign a confidentiality agreement in return for a fee reduction for my children. Of course, they must obviously be worried about what they did to me if they’ve done that.’
‘If you want my opinion, Hannah, you’ve got a fee reduction because they’re probably feeling guilty,’ the chief technician said confidently, trying to make me feel better about my situation.
If people are saying these things openly to me, then there has got to be a reason for it.
Is everybody around me speculating that there’s been a conspiracy against me here?

Nadolf Fitler was being patronizing to one of the chemists in the tea-room today, asking him in quite a verbose manner to be a coordinator for one of his hair-brained schemes in the science department.
‘I don’t want you to be too overloaded with work,’ he said emphatically, whilst I was standing there making some coffee. I rather had the impression it was said for my benefit because it was exactly what I had accused the school of doing: overloading me with work.
‘Yes,’ I agreed, unable to keep my silence any longer. ‘It would be no good to be overloaded. Look what happened to me!’
There was absolute silence from my two colleagues as I walked out of the tea-room. God, did I feel good! When I got back to the workroom, I had to tell Wicksy what had happened.
‘It’s been a great learning experience for me working here and it’s a good job I can now laugh about it,’ I said, chuckling.
‘I’ve seen some awful things happen here as well,’ Wicksy replied, emphatically. ‘But at least it will help me face any situation in the future.’
It sure will, I thought.
And I’m so glad to be leaving.

Wednesday, 11th June
I noticed a letter marked ‘confidential’ in Vernon Peter’s pigeonhole.
Quickly removing the letter, I walked calmly into the ladies’ toilet, just a short walk away from the staff pigeonholes. It was a copy of an appraisal statement and, as the member of staff in charge of the appraisal process, Vernon had received an official copy for his records.
I quickly opened the envelope. My hands were shaking in anticipation.
It was an appraisal statement, written by Watt Grayman…about Nadolf Fitler. What an amazing coincidence!
It appeared Grayman was pleased with Nadolf. He had had a good year and was doing things well. His only fault was that he was a little too over-enthusiastic but, went on the statement, he must now aim to achieve two things: firstly, to look after new staff, particularly Kent who they had discussed, and secondly, to continue appraising the work of the heads of department. I knew this latter point was a reference to Timmy and it was clearly an admission that he should have been more closely monitored. Grayman was also pleased to hear that Nadolf still had a job to do at Faggs School and that he would be staying.
That’s bad news for the others, I thought, but it’s clear he must have considered leaving!
Further down the letter, Nadolf had asked to teach fewer lessons…nineteen instead of twenty-two.
The rat, I thought! Looking to do even less in his little kingdom.
But Sarin had refused his request; she wasn’t going to allow Nadolf to set a precedent in this way.
Good, I thought, as I carefully resealed the envelope and placed it back in Vernon’s pigeonhole.
Once again, I remained one step ahead of the rotten pack.

Thursday, 12th June
Craig, one of my colleagues from the chemistry department, burst into the biology workroom today in a very agitated state. He started the school at the same time as me and is in the process of trying to obtain his professional teaching qualification.
‘There’s no support in this school, no support at all!’ he declared in a huff to Wicksy and Kent as they beavered away on their lap tops.
‘What do you mean?’ I interjected, looking up from my marking.
‘Just what I said. This school is no good at giving support. I’m trying to complete my teaching qualification and nobody on the senior management team is willing to back me!’
‘But that’s exactly what I’ve been saying all this time!’ I told him, pretty pleased somebody else was experiencing what I’d gone through. ‘There’s no support when you need it!’
‘Yes, but I haven’t said it as loudly as you did,’ he replied rudely.
‘No, that’s not right. I only ever said there was no support here, in this workroom, and it obviously got back to the senior management team,’ I replied, having a dig at any one of my biologist colleagues, particularly Kent who could have easily leaked my comments to Phosgena Large.
‘Well, I’ve upset the senior management team big time, particularly the assistant head.’
‘Why’s that?’ I asked.
‘I went to complain about the management of the boarding house where I’m a tutor. The management style is not to my liking and I simply cannot work for the housemaster anymore. He disappears off to bed early each night at nine thirty, leaving the boys to just get on with it. It’s chaos.’
Blimey, I thought. Another reference to the management style at the school. I don’t think they know what management means! They seem to have their own set of twisted rules.
‘So who did you go and see about it?’ asked Kent.
‘Firstly, I went to the assistant head to complain and because he did nothing about it, I went above his head to the headmaster. As you can imagine, Watt Grayman wasn’t happy with me complaining and he told me off! I also asked to move boarding house but the assistant head stuck his heels in the sand and wouldn’t let me.’
‘So, you’ve blotted your copy book…but you’re the blue-eyed boy!’ I exclaimed, triumphantly.
‘No, I’m not,’ Craig spat back at once. ‘The headmaster was upset because I told him I was unhappy.’
‘But that’s exactly what got back to him about how I felt and look what happened to me! Why didn’t you come to talk to me in the first place?’ I asked, spreading both hands on my cheeks in alarm. ‘I could have warned you Grayman would react like that.’
I thought of my own comment about the school’s management styles during the farce of my investigatory meeting; I also wondered whether Craig had overstepped the mark towards being given a similar disciplinary process to mine.
‘In my situation,’ I continued, ‘all I said was ‘why haven’t we got any textbooks? This isn’t right, can’t we improve things?’ That’s why I’m happy going to another school, to be a manager again, to express opinions without someone stabbing me in the back.’
‘But the mentoring for my teaching qualification is crap,’ continued Craig, ignoring my comment. ‘And because I’m not getting any support, I feel as if I’ve been dumped right in the deep end.’
‘Sink or swim?’ I asked, having heard this argument before.
‘Yes, which is typical of this school.’
‘Yes, it is,’ I agreed.
‘I initially went to Nadolf to complain about the lack of support,’ continued Craig. ‘But that was a mistake because he went straight to all of the senior management behind my back, talking about me.’
‘But that’s exactly what he did to me!’ I exclaimed. ‘Why didn’t you come and speak to me? I could have warned you he’d do that!’
There was a hushed silence in the room whilst we all mulled over a possible solution to Craig’s dilemma.
‘I knew this sort of thing was going on as well…’ Wicksy suddenly announced in a quiet voice, ‘…because it was done to me in my first year.’
Everyone instantly turned to stare at Wicksy, in disbelief.
‘And you never mentioned it to save anybody else?’ I exclaimed, my tone of voice betraying my inner annoyance.
Wicksy refused to reply to my question, his sheepish look indicating the extent of his guilt. Bizarre though it might seem, it was almost a relief to hear this kind of behaviour had been quietly going on for years at the school because at least I wasn’t the only one to suffer at its hands! Plainly, I had found things out the hard way because no one had the humanity or foresight to warn me. In truth, if I’d stayed at the school, I would probably treat new members of staff in exactly the same way, just as some of my science colleagues had treated me: watching and waiting with keen interest, for my downfall. If I had my time again, I would keep my mouth shut because the whole episode is costing me a lot of money, between buying a house and paying school fees. It’s all too painful to think about!
‘Well, I heard Nadolf had a good appraisal from Watt Grayman,’ I announced to them all brightly, knowing the information would raise more than an eyebrow or two.
‘How do you know that?’ asked Wicksy, pointedly.
‘Oh, I’ve heard it from a reliable source,’ I replied carefully, thinking of the appraisal letter I’d removed from Vernon’s pigeonhole. I was hoping to underpin their fear of Nadolf, out of revenge.
‘Oh, no! I don’t believe it! A good appraisal?’ exclaimed the chief technician, who had overheard the whole conversation. ‘Doesn’t Grayman know how awful he is to work for?’
‘Probably not,’ I replied, truthfully. ‘But it’s not in anyone’s interest to inform him, is it? If you think about it, it’s best to let Nadolf continue to work and behave in this way because eventually something will happen to him…like he’ll have a heart attack or even lose his job.’
They all agreed with me and I think we were all secretly wishing for the same thing.
The sooner, the better!

Friday 13th June
There was an email to Timmy. It was from Nadolf.
‘It was disgusting,’ Wicksy said.
‘Did you see it?’ I asked.
‘Yes. Timmy showed it to me.’
‘What was it about?’
‘Coursework. It’s got to be marked before the end of this term before the summer holiday, for some reason or another.’
‘It’s probably to do with me refusing to mark my Year 10 coursework because I’m not getting paid in August.’
‘Maybe, but it seems the pressure’s obviously on for Timmy. I predict he’ll get into an argument with Nadolf sometime or another and either leave or step down from his post.’
‘Yes, I think you could be right. Things aren’t looking good, are they?’
Later today in the workroom, Timmy and Neil had their backs to me, whispering whilst I was sitting just a few feet away trying to do some work. I had the notion they were whispering about me whilst they pawed over a computer screen, reading.
‘Guys, you can’t just sit there and whisper and not let me in on what you’re saying,’ I said, uncomfortably.
‘It’s confidential,’ said Timmy rudely, without turning to face me.
I don’t think he recognized he was being unprofessional in discussing obviously confidential matters in my presence.
‘Well, that’s fine,’ I said, feeling awkward at having brought up the issue. ‘I don’t want you to tell me what you’re reading but please just stop whispering.’
‘No, it’s OK. Come and read this,’ Timmy relented, beckoning me over to read whatever it was that had grabbed their attention. I tried to resist looking at the screen as Timmy continued to quietly read out some of the contents of his appraisal which Nadolf had written about him. I couldn’t quite make out exactly what he was saying. Neither did I really care because I’d got the drift of what was going on: Nadolf had written a bad appraisal of Timmy’s performance and Timmy was upset.
‘It’s evident Nadolf wants to control the individual science departments in the faculty and is trying to do it through the appraisal process,’ Timmy concluded, spitting blood. ‘He’s criticizing things like the biology scheme of work which has nothing to do with my professional performance. Well, he won’t bully me. I won’t let him. Everything’s been fine between Nadolf and me up until now. It’s only been in the last two weeks he’s tried to bully me.’
The timing and wording of Nadolf’s appraisal of Timmy seemed to fit in perfectly with Watt Grayman’s appraisal of Nadolf where Grayman suggested Nadolf had to continue to monitor the work of the heads of department. Clearly, Nadolf was in ‘over-enthusiastic’ mode again but I could understand why he had criticized the scheme of work because even though it had been devised by Neil, Timmy’s predecessor, it was brief and uninspiring.
‘I’ve seen all this before,’ I said smiling and beginning to dance from one side of the room to the other. ‘And look at me…I’m still smiling. I have my good days, I have my bad days, but I’m still smiling!’
‘Yes, we can see that,’ returned Timmy, bitterly. ‘Well, I don’t have to agree with what’s written here and it may mean a meeting with Grayman and Sarin like Nigella had.’
I thought of what Timmy had written about me in my appraisal and how he’d responded negatively towards me when I disagreed with it. I didn’t realize I could have taken my case to the headmaster at the time but would it have made any difference? I don’t really know.
‘You’ve got to sort it out, Timmy. Don’t let it drop like I did,’ I advised, tongue-in-cheek.
‘Well, I don’t have to be head of biology. I don’t mind just being a biologist. And at least they can’t sack me.’
‘What happened to me is happening to him,’ I said to Wicksy when Timmy and Neil had disappeared off to their lessons.
‘It certainly appears that way.’
‘Nadolf must be a very unhappy person in some area of his life for him to treat people in this way.’
‘But Timmy’s also made lots of mistakes this year and some of them are really bad ones.’
‘Yes!’ I exclaimed. ‘And one of them was me!’
‘Between you and me, I’ve been asked to write a few words of appraisal about Timmy and I must admit I’m going to be pretty honest and mention some of the things which have happened I haven’t agreed with.’
‘But you’ve got to support him,’ I suggested generously, despite what Timmy had done to me. ‘After all, we’re all on the same side of the fence.’
‘Yeah,’ he grinned. ‘I’ll let you know what I write.’
Wicksy wasn’t the most positive of thinkers as he would later admit himself and I never did find out what he wrote about Timmy, although as a northerner I am sure he wouldn’t have minced his words.
When Timmy and I were alone together in the workroom at the end of the day, he suddenly asked whether the senior management team knew what Nadolf was like to work with. It was a strange question for him to ask, especially as he was my head of department. Anyway, his deceitfulness was obvious; he was probably fishing to find out whether I’d told them anything about Nadolf’s behaviour but, of course, I hadn’t. It wasn’t in my interest to inform the senior management how Nadolf was responsible for all the stresses and strains in the science department. They must have all wanted me to blow the whistle on the psychopath but I wasn’t going to play the game their way.
‘I doubt whether they know about him and it’s not in your interest to tell them, either. As I’ve said before, he’ll slip up big time one day and that will be that.’
‘But surely they should do something about him?’
‘They probably will one day but it takes time. It doesn’t take a knee-jerk reaction to get rid of someone like that. It takes time for them to take it all in and get a wider picture, and then they’ll do something. Remember what I’ve said to you before: there’s no forum here at the school where everyone can talk openly and honestly and share their professional problems, without the fear of something awful happening to them when they complain.’
‘You’re right. I can’t really go to Grayman or Sarin because I’m uncertain of my professional relationship with them. I’m also unsure where Nadolf stands with them as well.’
Really, I thought? But you seem to get on so well with Sarin! And didn’t you say you were invited to do an appraisal on the headmaster?
You’re a liar, Timmy Baldman!
‘Everyone here is in their own little box, in their own little world,’ I continued, developing my theory of the school. ‘And it’s difficult to know where you stand with people. This is a classic symptom of the ‘divide and rule’ management style: everyone is insecure of their position.’
‘Nadolf is insecure.’
‘He certainly is.’
That much was plainly obvious.
I thought about how conscientious and hard working I’d been at Faggs School.
What is wrong with occasionally giving a word of praise for that?
And here I am counselling Timmy through a bad appraisal!
After all, he’s been a complete bastard towards me. Am I laying on the olive branch thing a bit too thick?
‘I was once told it doesn’t matter if you’re hard working because if you weren’t moving forward and making progress then the hard work was ineffective. But everyone here is not only hard working but efficient as well.’
‘And no one in this department has missed a deadline, either,’ he replied in agreement. ‘Of course, the problem with Nadolf is how he handles women.’
I thought of the female contender for my job and how pale, stressed and false Nadolf had come over in her company. He’d obviously felt very uncomfortable.
‘He also makes inappropriate comments to women and female pupils, you know,’ Timmy added in a gabble, wanting to get it off his chest.
‘Like: ‘you’ve got a nice pair of tits’,’ I prompted, trying to dig a bit deeper.
There could be something in this.
Something to pin on Nadolf.
‘No, not quite like that but some girls feel the pressure from him, particularly Bianca in the upper sixth. I feel like saying something to the senior management that he shouldn’t be allowed to be a tutor in the new girls’ house next year.’
What a cheek! Here he was, at his most vulnerable, complaining about the inappropriate behaviour of his line manager when I have often witnessed his occasional just-below-the-surface comments, of a sexual nature, about the girls at the school. I also had the impression he wanted me to report his comments to someone in authority so that Nadolf would get into trouble.
But, Timmy, the time’s up for you! I’ve been hanging on to what I know for quite a time now. Soon, it could be your turn to be informed upon.
So how do you think you’ll feel then?

Sunday, 15th June
Today, I spent much of my time reflecting on what Vivian had told me a while back about how male members of staff, Timmy included, would often pass sexually-loaded comments about the female sixth formers at school social functions. Some had even engaged in sexual relationships with them at the Leavers’ Ball, incorrectly thinking the pupils were no longer within their care and jurisdiction.
Wrong, I thought. It’s just the exact opposite.
I’ve also been thinking about Timmy’s role in losing my job for quite awhile now and I really don’t think he’s as innocent as he tries to make out, particularly as he’s told my colleagues what happened to me. I’ve been keeping quiet about the whole business whilst he’s been spilling the beans without my knowledge!
The two-faced bastard!

Thursday, 19th June
My recent visit to Flogham School made me realize how much work I had to do to get the failing biology department back into shape again but I don’t mind because I will be the one to get the praise for doing so. The outgoing head of department’s files were padded out with all sorts of rubbish to make them look thick and useful because when I opened them up to inspect them they contained nothing of worth. It was obvious he was going out under a cloud and it was so ironical that he was leaving the job I’d turned down several years ago. Again, I have a sense of things coming full circle.
The female biologist’s story of what had been going on at the school was far too near to the bone, her experiences almost mirroring my own at Faggs School.
‘I’ve had a very rough time here with badly behaved pupils,’ she informed me, openly. ‘And I’ve been so tired and depressed that I had to take anti-depressants, then my partner left me and I almost lost my home. And to cap it all, I had no support at all from my head of department or from the director of studies.’
There had to be something wrong with these schools, I thought.
Both teachers and pupils, alike.

Friday, 20th June
Final assembly this morning was awful. I felt so sorry for Wicksy, although he said the whole incident did not affect him at all! Sports Day awards were to be distributed to various pupils at the start of assembly but, as there were so many cups, confusion reigned as to which cup was which. Wicksy and Linda, the head of girls’ games, should really have laid them out in order beforehand but I knew what must have happened – the extra few minutes in bed that morning, needed to keep body and soul together, was worth far more than the humiliation of the ensuing chaos.
After waiting nearly ten minutes for the presentation ceremony to begin, my stomach suddenly tightened when sporadic hand clapping, loud murmuring, and sarcastic laughing broke out amongst the impatiently-waiting pupils. Wicksy and Linda seemed totally unperturbed by their behavior; they just carried on arranging and then rearranging the cups on the large table placed on the stage in front of the whole school. After a few muted attempts by some colleagues to hush up the pupils’ dissent, it wasn’t long before they burst once again into a louder and more rapturous slow hand-clap whilst the quest to organize the cups continued. I was sitting with my boarding house up in the balcony at the time and I couldn’t help but inwardly laugh as the scene unfolded in front of me. I certainly wasn’t laughing at my two colleagues but at the tight-lipped looks of Watt Grayman and Sarin Fleischman who remained calmly seated throughout the whole twenty-minute affair! They both gave the impression they were reluctant to stand up in front of the whole school and tell them to be quiet! And why? Because they knew they would both fail in their attempts!
It was yet again just another example of rude behaviour not expected of young adolescents.
From allegedly good homes and breeding.

Timmy told us all in the workroom that Nadolf had written an awful appraisal of Harry, the head of physics, compiling a list of 18 criticisms of his performance.
‘There are 66 pupils doing AS level physics next year. The department must be doing something right!’ Timmy exploded. ‘I told Harry that Nadolf’s not going to write things like that about me!’
‘I’ve been there!’ I chipped in cheerfully, looking at him pointedly. He knew what I was referring to: the appraisalhe’d written about me. But he just smiled and shrugged it off.
‘What did Harry do about it, then?’ I asked, more than a little interested.
‘He took it straight to Sarin Fleischman to sort out.’
It was clear what had happened to me was happening to more of them.

I interrupted something going on between the chief technician and Nadolf this evening when I went back to the biology workroom for some work I’d forgotten to take home with me. The technician seemed pretty red-faced about the whole business, like he was being told off. At the same time, Nadolf was very nice to me. Foul play, I thought? Covering something up, are we?
‘Did I interrupt something going on between the two of you?’ I asked after Nadolf had walked out of the workroom. ‘Was Nadolf having a go at you?’
‘No, I was having a go at him,’ the technician explained, taking me by surprise. ‘I told him he can’t carry on treating people the way he does. The technicians feel like dirt on the bottom of his shoe.’
‘I knew something was up because you looked very red-faced and you didn’t say anything to me when I walked into the workroom which you would do normally. And then I noticed Nadolf looking pale and stressed. It looked as though there had been an argument and he had lost his temper.’
‘I can assure you, he didn’t get a word in edgeways!’ the technician explained, triumphantly.
‘That makes a change! It’s usually the other way around!’
‘That man will never be any different,’ he concluded, shaking his head.
That’s what makes all of this so satisfying, I thought. What goes around, eventually comes around.
I can’t wait for the day.

It turned out that Craig, her chemist colleague, had a very good appraisal that year, despite his complaints that the school did not support him.
‘Despite everything?’ Hannah asked him.
‘Despite everything,’ he replied.
‘Even after upsetting the headmaster?’
‘I didn’t upset the headmaster. It was other members of the senior management who I upset.’
‘But you told Grayman you were unhappy. What did he say to that?’
‘He said: ‘There are ways of talking about these things’.’
‘One rule for one…’ she said, finding it hard to bite her tongue.
Too late for me then, she thought.

‘I’ve really enjoyed working with you,’ announced Wicksy, one day very near to the end of Hannah’s last week at the school.
‘And me with you,’ she smiled back, kissing him lightly on the cheek.
‘And it’s because we’ve been able to talk about things.’
‘Yes, there’s no doubt we’ve shared the same outlook on what’s been going on here. But I’ve only rocked the boat on issues which any professional would raise. I’ve been used to people expressing their views and moving things forward for the better.’
‘But people here are more willing to accept things as they are, whereas you weren’t. They’re not very friendly and they’re all wrapped up in their own little worlds and, they don’t want to rock the boat.’
It’s just as well I’m going then, she thought, walking away to her next lesson.

There was another letter in Vernon’s pigeonhole marked ‘confidential’, so she hurriedly took it to the quiet of the ladies’ toilet, safe and out of sight, to open it. It was a copy of a letter from Watt Grayman…to Timmy Baldman. A statement of his recent appraisal! Again, it was another amazing coincidence!
‘You’ve had a challenging year,’ Grayman began, an obvious indirect yet hurtful reference to her. ‘But you have kept positive and smiling throughout’. He went on to suggest that Timmy should spend his energy on improving Kent’s teaching and that his suggestions about the science department had been sent to Sarin who would carry them out. Hannah had no idea what suggestions Timmy would have made but she guessed he would have used the situation to further his own professional ends.
And then she remembered Timmy telling her how he had been chosen to write an appraisal of Watt Grayman: the ‘poisoned chalice’ he had called it! By chance, she caught sight of the appraisal document on Timmy’s laptop one Saturday afternoon after games, when he had carelessly left the machine logged on, in his office. The appraisal, of course, had been gushing and she only wished she had printed it out for her records. Certainly, it seemed that Timmy did have Watt Grayman’s ear and this was what made her feel depressed. Would anyone ever find out how two-faced Timmy had been? And would his unprofessional behaviour ever catch up with him in the future? She remembered all those years ago in Swansea when she had gone to the senior management team to complain about a difficult and incompetent female colleague in her department. Now, the tables had turned and it had been her turn, to be placed under pressure.
With fresh ideas and a new perspective at looking at things, Hannah had suffered badly for voicing her opinions but, in addition to that, she had dozens of files of ready-prepared resources for teaching: a teacher’s dream. And Timmy, despite his many years of teaching, had nearly next to nothing in comparison.
Was this also one of his reasons for driving her out? His professional jealousy?