Learn to keep your mouth shut, Dr Jekyll, in spite of the overpowering urge to have the last word, Mr Hyde

At the end of June that year, the parents of the new Year 9 intake rolled up for their free Sunday afternoon tea so that they could meet the staff and pupils of the boarding house they had chosen for their sons and daughters to spend the next five years of their schooling life. Whilst Hannah surveyed their eager and expectant faces, she felt sympathy for those parents attempting to buy into their dreams for their children. Just a year ago, she too had been as wide-eyed with hope when her own children had joined Faggs School. Of course, the new intake would all arrive to take up their places when she had long gone from the school, which only added to her anger and sadness of her predicament.
To the world at large, all seemed well for these people: money, privilege, a good school, but little did these arrogant, demanding and money-conscious parents realise that their little offspring had already gained the same blinkered outlook on life as themselves. When eventually let loose on the boarding school community, these young people too would unleash their unreasonable demands on the poor staff forced to serve them. Complaining and causing waves when it took their fancy would become their hallmark; in truth, they created a hot house of discontent and dissatisfaction with the efforts of those around them. They were paying for the service, weren’t they? So, they wanted their money’s worth.
Rich kids, throwing their weight around.

Hannah had been intending to snoop around Timmy Baldman’s office for quite some time and now, after meeting the new intake and when the whole department was quiet with most of the school on examination leave, was the time to do it. At the very least, she would remove Bertie’s derogatory reference from one of the unlocked filing cabinets, the one he had written for her a few years ago when she had turned down the opportunity of attending an interview because of her attachment to Justin. His description of her as ’strong-willed’ and ‘moody’ took her by complete surprise because they were terms that had never been used to describe her before, or at least not to her knowledge. After all, she had given his department good value for money with her hard work and dedication and she had never had a cross word with any of her science colleagues at Queensford, in all the years she had been there – except Ewan Hogg, of course. Was this how Bertie really perceived her when he approached her on a regular basis to do this-that-or-the-other for him? And why did he not mention such personal failings in her yearly professional appraisal? Apart from that, surely any decent professional would never say such things in a colleague’s job reference except, of course, if they had a personal agenda for doing so. Had it therefore been the case he did not want to lose her? So, what is it about men that they think it their right to use personal terms to describe their female colleagues and hope to get away with it? Like Bertie; like Timmy?
All-in-all, Hannah found all four of her applications for a job at Faggs School, spread over the course of eight years. Records of the applications were probably kept centrally with Phosgena Large, the personnel manager, or even in the school archives but as far as the biology department was concerned, all trace of her would now be erased as she removed every single one of the applications from Timmy’s filing cabinet.
With Timmy’s laptop conveniently yet foolishly left on once again, Hannah nervously searched for secrets documents concerning her but she could find little else than her appraisal, the one that had upset her so much at Christmas. Probably, he saved any contentious information in a hidden folder but she lacked both the time and nervous energy to go searching any further. His untidy desk drawers, nevertheless, revealed a more interesting treasure of information: some notes he had made of two of her classes which he had observed her teach.
She had never been shown what he had written about her during the two lesson observations and she felt upset when she read the glowing way in which he described how both of her lessons had gone. He even described the only lesson he had observed of her teaching The Class From Hell as excellent! She had never been told any of that in his very brief feedback to her afterwards! Then she found a briefly scribbled note with: ‘Thanks for the lesson. The class are well drilled’, written in hand on a plain piece of paper. She recognised it immediately as Nadolf’s note, the one he had sent her after spending just five minutes in the only lesson he ever observed of her teaching, a well-organised sixth form practical. She had been so disgusted by his lack of professionalism at the time that she had passed the note straight on to Timmy, not realising she would ever need to look back on it in the future. Then suddenly, a thought struck her.
She had lost her job despite the fact that only three of her lessons had ever been observed – two lessons by Timmy Baldman, her head of department, and just five minutes by Nadolf Fitler, the head of science!
There were also some hand-written notes on Wicksy’s lessons which Timmy had observed but she was disinterested in those, although she should have taken some copies, especially after Wicksy openly admitted that Watt Grayman the headmaster had wanted him out from the school after a tumultuous first year. Maybe she would go back again to take copies, just for her records, as evidence that others before her had gone through the same shoddy experience.
And then she found a copy of Nadolf’s appraisal of Timmy, the one Timmy had been whispering about with Neil on the computer screen in the biology workroom. Reading it more closely in the quiet of the stuffy office, she noted with interest how Nadolf accused him of spending too much time on the disciplinary action against a member of his department which resulted in him spending too little time on monitoring Kent’s teaching. So how much time had he spent on her disciplinary action? He certainly had not spent quality time helping her deal with the poorly behaved boys in The Class From Hell! So what had been going on that had demanded so much of his time which she was unaware of? She could only guess at the answers to the string of questions going through her mind. But one thing was sure: there was a recognised problem with Kent’s teaching – and that had been kept quiet from everyone.
She thought of how Kent got away with shouting at his classes, saying things that made even her wince with embarrassment and then, of course, the way he would sometimes swear at them, using the ‘f’ word. If that had been her, she would have been disciplined immediately but for Kent, well, not only was he male, but he had also served several years in one of the services. The rules of the game were clear: he could get away with anything, whilst she could get away with nothing.
And then she came across what her housemistress had written about her for the Speech Day programme and the school magazine, a somewhat difficult task to do given the circumstances and the length of time she had been at the school. It was a glowing report but one which, nevertheless, cut her to the quick. The hand-written statement at the bottom asked: ‘Timmy, are you happy with this?’
Betrayed, she thought! By another two-faced colleague! As Montage Hirsuter’s best friend, it had been the same housemistress who had offered Hannah her support when things came to a head with her losing her job but now she was seeking Timmy’s approval for a simple paragraph to mark her short time at the school. Had the woman been so long out of her native Scotland that she had lost her Celtic fibre and sold her soul for cheap school accommodation? Hannah wondered how Timmy would have responded to the question but as the original paragraph she’d written and the one in the Speech Day programme exactly coincided, he must have agreed for the statement to be used. After all, what could he disagree with? She had, as the statement described, thrown herself into the life of the school. And look at what she’d received in return!
Throughout her search of Timmy’s office, Hannah’s hands shook uncontrollably, afraid that at any moment someone would walk in through the door to catch her red-handed removing a cache of documents for her personal records. She was still so confused. Who truly had been responsible for her losing her job? Nadolf? Timmy? By the time she reached home, she was in tears.
‘Mum, you have to keep going,’ advised her daughter Charlotte. ‘You’ve only got two more weeks to go.’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ she replied but being a woman she needed to talk about the things she had found in Timmy’s office. She rang Nigella, her colleague in the science department.
‘Gosh! Are you alright?’ Nigella asked immediately on hearing Hannah’s broken voice.
‘No, I’m not. I’ve just found some papers in the biology department which I’m very upset about.’
‘Where in the department?’
‘In Timmy’s office. We all go in there for one reason or another. Anyway, I found some papers he used for my appraisal. What I really want to know is what’s been said about me behind my back? Has anything been said to you?’
‘Well, Vernon Peters said you were having problems and that there was a dossier on you. Harry the head of physics said that too.’
‘A dossier on me? What do you mean?’
‘Well, apparently, Vernon said there’s a dossier on everybody,’ came Nigella’s cautious reply, as if she realised she had given too much away already.
Hannah breathed a sigh of relief to hear everyone was in the same boat as her. But were they?
‘Nigella, I need to offload what I’ve seen and heard lately because what happened to me is also happening to other people. Did you know that Timmy and Harry had a very critical appraisal from Nadolf?’
‘Yes, I did and I only know that because when I was walking back from chapel one day last week with Harry he said he and Timmy were ready to spill the beans about Nadolf.’
Spill the beans! This was exactly what Hannah wanted to hear although she noted how two-faced Timmy was behaving after what he had done to her.
‘There was also an argument between the chief technician and Nadolf the other evening. Did you hear about that?’
‘No, I didn’t. What happened?’
‘Well, I accidentally burst in on them in the workroom last Friday at about 6 o’clock and they were both very quiet. I asked the technician what had gone on and he said he’d given Nadolf a piece of his mind.’
‘About what?’
‘The fact that he treats the technicians so badly.’
‘Well, I know that. He’s always been the same with the technicians, and teachers. I remember a while back when he went into Vernon’s laboratory to ask some academic point which he wanted Vernon to explain but Vernon realised quite quickly Nadolf was testing him so that he had something on him. It’s been known for a long while that Nadolf has got it in for Vernon.’
‘God, I don’t know where I would have been without Vernon. He’s been a pillar of strength for me!’
‘Well, when Vernon was both head of science and head of chemistry, he was the one responsible for employing Nadolf and he thought he could keep him in check but when Nadolf took over as head of chemistry and then head of science, of course this was no longer possible and Nadolf began to behave badly, just as we see him now. But look, why don’t you go and talk to the reverend or go to your doctor? Get some time off.’
‘No, I don’t need to do that. I’m perfectly fine, thank you. I just need to get this business off my chest. I think I’ll ask Vernon to come with me to see my personal file, though. Just to read what unjustified things have been written about me.’
‘Why don’t you go to a solicitor to find out what you can do?’
‘I can’t do that. I haven’t got any money.’
‘What about legal aid?’
‘No. I really don’t want to go down that road but thanks for the suggestion,’ Hannah replied, thinking of her painful experiences at Queensford School and her fee reduction for the children to stay at Faggs School.
‘What about your union? Surely they can do something?’
‘All my union representative said to me was: ‘Do you really want to work in a school which treats you like this?’ and when I said ‘No’ we discussed me resigning, which I did. He put his finger on the fact that it was sexual discrimination and that in his estimation I would have a good case to put forward to an industrial tribunal but, of course, if I went down that road it would be difficult to get employment as a teacher again. So I left it as it was. I’ve come up against the establishment, Nigella, and there’s nothing I can do about it.’
Hannah thought of the accusations in the press about Prince Charles’ alleged involvement in plotting Princess Diana’s death. What hell did she have to go through with no one willing to listen to her side of the story – the misrepresentations and misunderstandings, the lies and the conspiracies?
‘Anyway, thanks for listening, Nigella,’ said Hannah, as her tears finally subsided. ‘We’ve both been through this at some time or another. I knew you would understand.’
‘Hannah, you must remember what I told you what happened to me in the RAF,’ continued Nigella, trying to make her science colleague feel better.
‘No, I can’t, actually. What happened?’
‘They sacked me because I was pregnant and when I took them to court, I won. This was a while ago now and I was one of the first ever to do it.’
‘My goodness!’ exclaimed Hannah, realising Nigella was stronger than she looked. She remembered her own past experiences when she announced to her line manager, a notoriously arrogant professor of dermatology, that she was pregnant with Alistair her son. She would never forget how the man angrily responded to her news by threatening she would never work at that hospital ever again!
‘And if you think about it, Hannah, people here behave like this because they themselves are being pressurised.’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ replied Hannah ‘But in every meeting I had with Sarin Fleischman, especially on a one-to-one basis, she not only always shouted at me but she also would never listen to what I had to say and then she would dismiss me from her room, like a little girl! Surely that sort of conduct is inexcusable, especially when someone’s job is at stake!’
Nigella was certainly understanding of Hannah’s plight as she, too, had had rather a rough time of it at Faggs School. In truth, both women needed to keep much of what had happened to them close to their chests, purely for the sake of their children’s education at the school. Hannah tried to imagine how Justin must have felt when he lost his job.
Was she now getting her comeuppance for what she had done to him?
Hannah’s thoughts were now hell-bent on one thing only: how to get back at Timmy Baldman. After all, it was his poorly disguised sneaky conversations with Sarin outside chapel and in the common room corridor which had initially alerted her to his scheming intentions, although she never challenged him about his devious behaviour, preferring to ignore what he had been talking about rather than to speak to him, face to face.
Because, when it came down to it, she too had to admit the fact.
She was a coward as well.

A warning to Nadolf, she thought, might do the trick, to make him squirm. She could advise him that Timmy and Harry were going to report his aggressive management style, and the way he badly treated people in his department; and maybe even tell him of the situation with Timmy and the television crew, spoiling his chances of being a media star! And what about the rumours of his inappropriate comments and looks at female pupils which Timmy had told her about?
And then just wait for the fireworks to start.
She reasoned such a warning would certainly land Timmy in trouble for his actions and maybe even go further, because at the end of the day both men would eventually have to fall. In her imagination, she would ask Nadolf for caution. But would he really heed her advice and be more careful and diplomatic? And would he really attempt to reason with his colleagues and maybe even bend a little rather than bully them? Or would he charge at them all, with guns a-blazing, and go to Grayman with the information?
Like a snivelling little snitch.
Hannah would have to decide.

After the upset on Sunday, Hannah began to realise the full impact of Nadolf’s appraisal of Timmy. Not only had Timmy allegedly spent too much time on her disciplinary action as well as neglecting Kent’s teaching, it also seemed that Nadolf was pinning the blame for her situation on Timmy, as if Nadolf had nothing to do with it at all! There was clearly no mention of her disciplinary action in Watt Grayman’s appraisal of Nadolf, so she could only conclude that Timmy was shouldering the blame. But whichever way she looked at it, it was hurtful and it was on paper.
Forever.
There was little doubt, though, it was all looking a little odd where Timmy was concerned because very few of his actions seemed to tie up in a logical fashion. There was his verbal support for her in front of others in the biology workroom but then his lack of support when Sarin Fleischman or Watt Grayman was concerned. And what about his critical appraisal of her on one hand and the glowing lesson observation notes contradicting it on the other? Had he really been the one scheming to get rid of her and not Nadolf? It certainly was looking that way.
Visions of confronting both Nadolf and Timmy flashed through her troubled mind constantly but she was unable to carry out her true wishes to their faces, in case Watt Grayman ever got to hear of it. So, she stirred it up a little with Vernon Peters.
‘I want it logged for the future, Vernon that I think Timmy might have been a major force in what happened to me. And do you know he had a bad appraisal with Nadolf and that he’s upset by it?’
‘Yes, I know about his appraisal but I haven’t read my copy of it yet.’
‘Well, he was scrolling through it on the computer screen with Neil last week. It was all very unprofessional. I had to ask them not to whisper in front of me because it was obvious what they were talking about. And then when I was here on Sunday doing some work, I went into Timmy’s office for something and found things written about me which I found very upsetting,’ she explained carefully to hide her snooping, although it must have been pretty obvious what she had been up to. ‘And I then rang Nigella to talk about it.’
‘Yes, Nigella said you’d rung. And it was very unprofessional for Timmy and Neil to be whispering together in front of you. They should have gone into another room. This is part of the problem here; we need someone who one can go to when situations like this occur.’
Vernon was right; the teaching staff desperately needed professional support, and a personnel manager who clearly understood their workplace problems. But even if support systems had been in place, Hannah knew she lacked the capability to take quick and decisive action each time she was on the receiving end of any unhealthy situation in work. This was usually because her mind was so overloaded with more important things to do and organise for other people, including her family, she often neglected to look after herself. She had intuitively guessed right from the start her position at the school was in jeopardy, like a sixth sense that things were beyond her power to correct. In hindsight, it was probably true to say she consciously allowed her demise to happen, as a sort of self-preservation for a better future for herself – away from Faggs School.
‘The whole episode in the biology workroom made me feel humiliated,’ she continued as the two colleagues slowly made their way to morning coffee in the common room, ‘because I knew there was bound to be something about me in what they were reading.’
‘Yes, there would have undoubtedly been something there but I’m in the position at the moment to tell you Timmy is under great pressure and that there are moves a-foot to reign in on Nadolf. When I was head of science I could control him, so to speak, but since he was made head of science I haven’t been able to do that. You know that your predecessor refused to teach one of the Year 11 classes before she left, don’t you?’
‘No, I didn’t!’
‘The class had such a bad reputation for being poorly behaved that she just couldn’t face them.’
‘And Nadolf and Timmy allowed her to get away with it?’
‘Yes. All she had to do was bat her eyelids at Timmy and she used to get her own way.’
‘I can’t work like that, Vernon.’
‘Yes, I realise that and this is why Timmy has treated you the way he has.’
Hannah was aghast her situation might have been so very different had she been more sexually overt in her dealings with her head of department’s ego! Clearly, he had paid no regard at all to her feelings, shafting her to the point of sheer personal and professional humiliation. Like so many of her fellow scientists, Timmy did not have any children and therefore little understanding of the extra pressure she was constantly under.
When the two colleagues finally reached the quiet of the common room, they made their way to one of the small side rooms to talk.
‘Linda the head of girls’ games told me recently that the female teaching staff had a meeting with Jill Heaps about three years ago to discuss the negative attitudes of male staff towards them. Apparently, when she stood up to tell them all that had happened to her since she’d joined the school, she was fired down by the assistant head’s new wife saying she was imagining it! She said she felt useless and humiliated as a result, which Watt Grayman then exacerbated by telling her she wasn’t doing a good job and that she needed to improve! And she’s the most organised and talented head of girls’ games I have ever come across!’
‘I’ve told you before, Hannah, there are women here at the school that have had a bad time of it and you are just another one in a long line of them. Grayman also had a tough first year at the school and some of the negative things he said to the teaching staff have still not been forgiven by certain people in the common room. Several female members of staff have also gone in to see him, armed with their appraisal documents, to complain they were not being managed properly by their male line managers, one of whom you know is Nigella.’
‘Yes but I didn’t realise that avenue of complaint was open to me when Timmy wrote his negative appraisal of me!’
‘Yes, that is unfortunate. Anyway, this time last year, during her first year at the school, Nigella, like you, was also having doubts about whether she would be in her job or not the following year.’
Hannah reflected on how Nigella’s head of department had placed her under unreasonable pressure concerning the marking of coursework, particularly as she was running Hirsuter Montage’s boarding house whilst she was away on compassionate family leave. The pressure had forced her onto anti-depressants and to seek refuge in the comforting words of the school counsellor. She also remembered Timmy’s mocking words, one day in the biology workroom: ‘When you settle in, Hannah, you will become really quite good’ he had said to her. Maybe that was part of the problem: he knew she would be too good and outshine him on every count!
‘There is also no doubt that the pupils treat female teachers differently here to their male counterparts,’ Vernon continued, truthfully.
‘Why am I finding out all of these things now, when it’s too late for me! That’s why I was upset on Sunday when I found all that paperwork in Timmy’s office. But at least I haven’t become depressed about it yet! But how long can this go on for? There are a lot of hardworking and talented people here who are getting shafted.’
‘Yes, I agree but let me assure you, without giving too much away, that Watt Grayman has written a letter to me saying just that.’
Hannah touched his arm indicating oneness in their situation. He had been a rock of a colleague and one she would never forget.
‘You are joking! That’s fantastic!’
‘But, of course, it will take time to sort all of this out.’
‘But will Grayman at least acknowledge what has happened to me?’
‘Oh, I think so,’ he smiled, reassuringly.
Hannah hoped against hope he wasn’t trying to placate her.

Wednesday 25th June
I confronted Nadolf Fitler in the biology workroom today. Inside, I was seething with anger and it was getting increasingly difficult to keep it from showing.
‘Before I leave this school, I would like to have a meeting with you to say a few things. I think I have a right to find out what went on behind my back. I would like Vernon Peters to be with me as well.’
‘OK. When do you want it?’
‘I’m not sure yet but I’ll let you know.’
‘OK,’ he repeated, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists, twisting them like a child. It seemed he was trying to avoid looking at me.
I wondered how he would deal with this information and what strategy he would adopt. I could never imagine him being defensive, only on the attack. At the very least, he would probably inform Sarin of my request and get her on his side or even possibly consult Grayman. There was no one else he could call upon. Anyway, it felt good to frighten him a little but on reflection it would have been better to let others stick the knife in so I can bow out with my dignity. The next few days and my state of mind will be crucial in deciding both our fates.
Later on, I found the little rat had gone running to Phosgena Large for support. If that was so, then he would have gone to Grayman first who would have suggested he consult the slimy, overweight personnel manager. Maybe by this stage, Nadolf thought he had washed his hands of the whole affair but I’m going to keep him guessing as to what course of action I’m going to take next.
Underneath his tough exterior, though, he’s what I’ve always thought of him.
Weak.

I bumped into Wicksy in the supermarket later today and told him of my request for a meeting with Nadolf.
‘I don’t blame you asking for a meeting,’ he judged, supportively. ‘I think you have a right to know what went on. Quite frankly, I’ve had enough of the place and I don’t want to teach there anymore. As soon as I come back in September, I’m going to be applying for jobs.’
It was exactly the sort of comment I had made to Timmy about how I felt about the school. And then, he had reported it to Sarin!
But I won’t split on Wicksy, like Timmy did on me.
‘I’ve heard a rumour that Timmy and Harry are going to report Nadolf’s poor behaviour to Watt Grayman,’ said Hannah, cautiously.
‘Yes, I’ve heard that as well and I know it’s true. They’re both going to see Grayman about their appraisals.’
‘Well, in that case, this is serious! I’ll admit that I’ve had sight of two key documents which give the whole game away. One of the documents was Nadolf’s appraisal of Timmy, which was on full show for anyone to see in Nadolf’s pigeonhole and in that document Nadolf is blaming Timmy for neglecting Kent in his first year of teaching because he spent too much time on disciplining me!’
‘That’s a load of crap! That’s not true at all! Is that in Timmy’s appraisal?’
‘Yes, it is. Then the other document I’ve seen itemises Nadolf’s targets for improvement ,which include monitoring the heads of department more closely and hence the problems we’ve seen with Timmy and Harry’s appraisals.’
‘And that must be in Watt Grayman’s appraisal of Nadolf?’
‘Yes.’
I didn’t tell him I took the appraisal out of Vernon’s pigeonhole because it’s become a bit of an embarrassing compulsion of mine: taking letters marked ‘confidential’ out of people’s pigeonholes to read.
‘It strikes me, there are several issues here,’ continued Wicksy, thinking aloud. ‘Not just involving you, but others as well and they’re all cross-threaded with one another.’
‘Yes, I think you’re right.’
‘Something’s got to be sorted out soon because it can’t go on like this. When Neil was head of biology, he used to stand up to Nadolf and this is what Timmy has to do.’
‘Yes, he must. But it’s too late for me and I’m glad I’m going. Anyway, watch this space. You know they made me sign a confidentiality agreement, don’t you?’
‘No?’
‘Yes, to keep my mouth shut.’
‘And have you?’ he laughed.
‘Not really, although I haven’t given away any of the real details.’
‘There’s more?’
‘Oh, yes! But I’ve had to be careful at all times, in case I lose my reduction on the children’s fees.’
I had already given too much away vis-à-vis what had happened to me but no one keeps a secret forever. I remembered reading about the relief felt by some serial killers who once their crimes had been discovered were happy to offload their guilt, as Justin had done. How long had he been suffering with his secrets, waiting for the day when they would be discovered and, worst of all, acted upon by some higher legal authority?
‘Will you see Nadolf, then?’ Wicksy continued, once I’d bumped down to earth from my innermost thoughts.
‘I may do. Or I may just keep him wondering when I’m coming after him. After all, I’ve lasted this long and I’ve only got a few days left before I leave so I don’t really want to lose it before I go, although Vernon knows if I didn’t have the kids I would have done something drastic by now.’
Like go to the newspapers, I thought, and scream from the highest height.

Thursday 26th June
I vented my spleen on Timmy in the workroom today. I couldn’t help it. I hate the two-faced bastard. Kent was also present but he kept his head down, working; he didn’t say a word.
‘Are the rumours true you’re going to spill the beans on Nadolf Fitler, then?’ I asked.
‘Spill the beans?’ Timmy asked back, his slow response buying him some time to think.
‘Yes.’
‘What rumours? You don’t need a rumour. The headmaster already knows Nadolf is difficult to work with.’
‘Then why doesn’t he do anything about him then?’ I replied, thinking it strange that just a short while ago he’d asked me whether the headmaster knew about Nadolf’s unprofessional behaviour. ‘Also, can you tell me how much time you spent on my so-called disciplinary action, even though I resigned from my post?’
He wouldn’t have known that I’d thoroughly read Nadolf’s appraisal of him and I noticed the way he looked away from me, contemplating his answer, careful of what he would say.
They say liars take more time over their answers because they mustn’t make a mistake and be caught out, she thought.
‘I spent a lot of time sitting down with you,’ he finally declared.
‘No, you did not! You hardly spent any time with me at all! Occasionally, you saw me in your office but mostly you took me out from this room, in front of my colleagues, to talk to me outside in the corridor!’
I remember very vividly the humiliation I felt in front of my colleagues on leaving the biology workroom, knowing he was going to tell me off for something or another; and how, in his office, he kept churning up issues from several weeks or even months past, as if he wanted things to be kept going, to keep them alive, to cause trouble. In total, Timmy had treated me with disdain, leaving me to wallow in the quagmire I’d found myself in.
‘All I ever wanted was for you to come back here next year as a teacher, Hannah. I tried to support you.’
‘No, you did not!’ I insisted, assertively. I didn’t want him to think he’d got away with his unprofessional behaviour. ‘All I ever did was to report to you how badly behaved Set 5 was and you never supported me when I asked you for it. You just allowed me to be subjected to their humiliating comments and behaviour. No wonder I was unhappy! No wonder I said I wanted to leave the school and that the chief technician could have my job! I’m a strong person but for one time in my professional life I needed some support and it wasn’t forthcoming. Well, if I have to be the catalyst for change, then all well and good but you won’t treat any one like this again. As a person and as a professional, I’ve never been so humiliated in all of my life and now I’ve had some time to sit back and look at what you’ve done to me, do I realise how bad it all was. Things has got to change because the behaviour of some of the people here, both teaching and non-teaching, is unprofessional. This has been building up in me over the last few days and I’m sorry but I’m going to have my say.’
I must admit I was behaving emotionally, venting my spleen in front of Kent but I wanted him to witness how Timmy’s behaviour had been unfair and unprofessional.
‘There are three people in this place who I will never forgive what they did to me,’ I continued, indirectly referring to Nadolf, Timmy and Sarin. ‘Even my union representative recognized there was a sexist element in this case. He also asked me did I really want to work with people who treated me like this. And, of course, my answer was a resounding ‘No, of course not!’, so it was he who suggested I resign.’
‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Well, you do now! And be aware. I’ve written down everything that’s happened.’
‘That’s the problem,’ he said wistfully, not rising to her threatening tone. ‘I haven’t written anything down.’
‘Well, if anything comes of this I’ll be able to take action, which I may do one day, particularly as my union rep said the school would have a case to answer to if I ever took them to an industrial tribunal.’
When I finally stopped spouting, I realised I’d had the last word.
And I felt a little better for doing so.

Later that day, I continued to berate Timmy.
‘You didn’t support me over that letter Nadolf sent to Sarin.’
‘Yes, I did,’ he replied, emotionlessly.
‘No, you didn’t because you quoted it in my appraisal and the headmaster then used it against me in my investigatory meeting.’
‘I did support you against Nadolf.’
‘But you didn’t when it came to the headmaster and he was the one who counted.’
You bastard!

When I repeated my conversation to Vernon, he was his usual supportive self.
‘So, do you think I have suffered at the hands of sexist chauvinists, Vernon?’ I asked him, pointedly.
‘Yes, there is a sexist element here. We’re losing Linda, the head of girls’ games, because she’s had a rough ride with negative male attitudes in the games department, and then there’s Vivian, and now you. I know you’ve always wanted to work here, Hannah, so now you know how it is. There’s something in the genes of the place which makes it like it is.’
‘If I’d have known it was like this, though, I wouldn’t have touched Faggs School with a barge pole.’
He looked at me and smiled.
‘Well, I don’t think it will ever change but then people in the science department know it used to be far worse than this. They used to be very rude to each other. Incidentally, you will be pleased to know the teacher with responsibility for new staff has been instructed to look after his charges more effectively in the future.’
This was a clear admission of the school’s failure to support me. I remembered a conversation quite clearly with this man who was supposed to induct me into the ways and means of Faggs School. He did a crap job because he was more concerned with reducing his workload. After just one term, he had informed all of the new members of staff that Faggs School was ‘a funny place’ to work in. Every single one of us in the meeting agreed with him but no one at that stage was willing to go further, to put their neck on the line to actually voice their view that there was definitely something not quite right about it as well! But even at that time, we were all afraid for our jobs because one had already got the message not to talk loosely, particularly with those who had been at the school for many years. Their souls had already been forfeited at the expense of cheap rent, and their houses abroad.
The Backstabbers.
‘I’ve kept my upset to myself all of this time, Vernon,’ I continued on, ‘and I know I’ve got to keep it in a bit longer but it’s so difficult.’
‘I know it is, Hannah, but you have to do it. When Major Monty was headmaster, he made life very difficult for all of his staff. He was a small man who even wanted to cut down men bigger than he was. That’s why we all joined a union, to protect ourselves. When Watt Grayman arrived a couple of years ago, we all thought things would change for the better but they haven’t and we’re very disappointed by this. But at least he is well aware of the fact Nadolf is difficult to work for.’
‘But what about Timmy? He was so two-faced in his dealings with me!’
‘Timmy is very sorry about what has happened to you. He is raw from the experience and didn’t expect it to turn out like this.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I said genuinely, although I should never have been so generous in saying so.
‘And he’s learned a lesson, too. But you’re not the only one who’s suffered at the hands at Nadolf in the science department. There was Jon Jeeson before his suicide, Alman, Burt, a little bit of the reason why Philip is leaving this summer, Jake and now you.’
It was an impressive list of scientists Nadolf had put pressure on, including those he had actually managed to get rid of: Alman, Jake and me. And the whole world knew what happened to Jon!
‘When I mentioned to Nadolf that I would be bringing you along to our meeting, he seemed surprisingly positive. Obviously, he’s scared of the consequences of having to face up to his behaviour.’
‘Well, that’s a step forward,’ Vernon mused.
‘But I’m not going to see him. I’ve decided to keep him dangling.’
‘Yes, I think that’s the best tack. You can always say I’m busy and can’t make the meeting.’
‘And what about Sarin and the way she behaved? She would never ever listen to what I had to say.’
‘Well, it’s clear that Sarin has ascended the slippery pole of management by basically behaving like a man. And that is how she’s behaving now.’
‘But in all fairness to the men I’ve worked with, Vernon, I’ve never been treated by any man like this before, except by Nadolf and Timmy, of course. Anyway, it’s known that female managers at the top of the tree behave far worse than men do, just as Sarin has done.’
‘Well, where Timmy’s concerned, he found himself out of his depth, not being able to cope with what was happening and that is why he brought in Sarin.’
‘But all I did was to voice my concerns about Set 5. And what about the large number of people who’ve had problems in their first year of teaching here but who’ve kept quiet about it! It’s astounding! And not one of them was willing to warn me beforehand how some of these pupils behaved. Even Wicksy, after everything that had happened to me, said he knew about the problems with the school because he’d also gone through the same problems as well! It just isn’t fair! I’ve got two children to consider and people just let me stumble into trouble and a lot of it through no fault of my own! People should be allowed to voice what’s happening to them.’
Suddenly, my voice started to fail me as emotion surged through my veins.
‘I can tell you now, Vernon, I am not a suicidal person but I have on many occasions in the last few weeks just wanted to walk in front of a car outside this very building.’
My revelation seemed to have little effect on Vernon; it seemed he had heard it all before.
‘Look, you’ve done very well up until now but you must try and keep it to yourself for a while longer. You must also steel yourself to the fact that in maybe two or three year’s time, someone might bring all of this up. It could be a teacher or a pupil, and when they do you’ve got to develop a thick skin to cope with it.’
‘But that isn’t fair!’
‘Yes, I know it’s not but Timmy called in Sarin thinking she would help.’
The rest was history.

I met up with Vivian this evening in her local pub. She rang last night to say her book was out and so she has invited me to a get-together at her place to celebrate. She also invited me to her farewell party at the house where she used to be a housemistress but only after she’d spent a lot of time pursuing her successor to check if it was still on or not! She was probably considered to be persona non grata amongst some of the slimy, two-faced backstabbing teaching staff, so it wasn’t surprising she had to do that. We’ve both shared some common experiences during our time at this school, which has forged a friendship between us forever, but she was shocked at my revelation that my experiences at the school had almost pushed me towards suicide.
‘I know Vernon has been supportive of you and I can understand how you appreciate that but the problem is he tried to go for deputy headships and headships a few years ago and didn’t get anywhere. Realising he would have to live out the rest of his teaching career at Faggs School has turned him into an unhappy man. Also, when he was head of science, things weren’t good for us all in the science department. Both Vernon and Nadolf as successive heads of science have placed unnecessary pressures on us all at various points in their careers. With Nadolf, he wouldn’t allow Jake to have any time off when his wife had a baby and when Vernon was head of science he even came around to my house and insisted I came back to work straight away, despite the fact I had only just given birth!’
‘My goodness, Vivian! That’s outrageous! And they both got away with it?’
‘Yes, they did.’
Over the years, what have the teachers in this school gone through, I thought?

Friday 27th June
I was watching for the signs of some sort of a meeting in which Timmy would be confronted over his behaviour: a best suit, a flushed face, eyes averted to the floor or even a much reduced verbal presence in the biology workroom. But there were no telltale signs of surreptitious goings-on. I’m acutely aware I have to hide my animosity towards the man in work but my inner turmoil and contempt seem to be spilling out into my last few remaining days here. I’ll have to try harder at being more controlled.

Saturday 28th June
Vivian agrees with me: there has to be another element to what’s happened here lately and she thinks it might have something to do with my involvement with Justin Rupert.
A sex offender.
This is making me understandably paranoid because I cannot understand how this would have lost me my job. I tried to think back to whom I’d mentioned my association with Justin, either to shock or surprise or even impress because I was writing a book: no more, no less. I am sure it was only Vivian, in confidence. But looking back, what a mistake! I should have kept my mouth shut! Of course, I told Vivian because I was still reeling from the disciplinary action taken against me at Queensford School for referring to Justin as a paedophile. My God! Would I ever recover from all of that?
Many of my colleagues can’t understand what’s going on and why the school is letting go of somebody like me. So many people have enjoyed my company and they all have, each and every one of them, their own story to tell about their ‘baptism of fire’ into the school. I used the same phrase myself on the very first day we moved into our school accommodation, with the flying ants and a house full of furniture to deal with!
And then, today, I recalled how several weeks ago, out of the blue, Nadolf asked me whether I’d been in recent contact with Penelope.
‘Penelope? The deputy head at Queensford School? ‘ I replied, thinking the question strange. ‘No, I haven’t.’
Penelope had informed me a long while back she had worked with Nadolf at a school in the North of England. So did Nadolf contact her to dig up some dirt on me? And did Penelope subsequently tell him about Justin and the anonymous letter I was accused of sending? And then I remembered Timmy talking so secretly and quietly to Sarin in the common room corridor and the look of shock on her face. Timmy later told me they were discussing Fanny and Clamidia but I found it hard to accept such an extreme response had anything to do with the two insolent girls! Had it seeped out about my intimate involvement with a sex offender?
With this going on in my mind, I had to discover the truth so I emailed Penelope to see how she was. I made no mention of Nadolf’s name but hopefully her email back would reveal that Nadolf had indeed contacted her, as I suspected. But when she never replied, it was almost an admission of her guilt. I reflected on her alleged affair with Justin.
And the fact that she must have said something to Nadolf.

When I do occasionally see Watt Grayman, he always seems so polite towards me. It’s strange because when I’m engaged in a conversation with a group of colleagues, he always singles me out to say ‘Hello, Hannah’. Is it a genuine greeting or is he leading me up the garden path again, just as he did before I learnt about my investigatory meeting? I remain suspicious and cautious of his motives. I have already tried to ring Terry Adams at Queensford to speak to him because I am convinced he’s passed on information about me to Grayman. But what sort of information?  The fact I’d had a relationship with someone who’d had affairs with sixth formers before I had even met him? Or was it to do with Justin losing his job as a result of the anonymous letter? Or the way I stuck up for myself against Adams’ bullying because I’d called Justin a paedophile in the pub? And if he did reveal this information, would it not be out of revenge for my letters describing how his flirtatious affair and excessive promotion of Brunhilde was the talk of the school and the local community?
Then, as I turned to speak to a colleague in the common room, I witnessed Grayman lean over towards Nadolf to hand him a small white envelope and say ‘Thank you’. It was clear Nadolf was taken by surprise, as with eyes firmly fixed to the floor, his body language betrayed his puzzlement and discomfort. The envelope wasn’t the normal size used for official communications and I wondered whether Grayman had written it personally, hence the hand delivery.
So, did the envelope contain details of the caution I had recently placed in Nadolf’s pigeonhole concerning several aspects of his unprofessional behaviour? And if it did, did that mean Nadolf had nothing to hide and that Timmy’s comments about Nadolf’s inappropriate behaviour towards female pupils were lies? Or was Nadolf really guilty and was on the attack by informing Grayman of the letter I’d sent, so that he could deflect any retribution he may have deserved?
I wondered why Grayman had not placed the letter into Nadolf’s pigeonhole, like anyone else would have done, especially as the staff pigeonholes were just across the way in the corridor. Of course, word might have reached him that documents and confidential letters had been disappearing from pigeonholes of late, although he probably does not suspect me even though I admitted to Wicksy I had removed Timmy’s appraisal from Nadolf’s pigeonhole to read. But whatever was in the letter, it was evidently important enough to warrant a hand-to-hand exchange between the two men. Nadolf looked distinctly uncomfortable around the science department after this incident.
There are still so many unanswered questions swimming around in my head.
Whose answers I can only ever guess at.

Later today, I went to see Vernon Peters.
‘I would like to draw a line under a few things, Vernon, if I may? Did all of this begin and end with Nadolf Fitler?’
‘Yes, I believe it did.’
‘And when do you think it all started?’
‘Well, I think even before you arrived,’ came the honest reply.
‘I knew it! There was always something very peculiar with how this has operated.’
‘He wasn’t impressed by you not reading the science department handbook.’
So you dig the knife in and push someone to the point of leaving because of that, I screamed inside my head? And anyway I did read his precious handbook, every single one of the yellow pages he wanted me to read! It is the absolute truth that I read them and with all the things going through my mind with moving from Queensford, I had forgotten I’d done it. Because of my memory failure. I have landed in trouble and thereafter a spiralling succession of disastrous events!
‘And so he roped Timmy into his scheming against me?’
‘Yes. Definitely! And the trouble with Grayman is that he shoots from the hips. One day he says it’s really bad then the next day he changes his mind.’
I wondered whether Vernon was specifically referring to me and if he was I couldn’t understand why because I just got on with my work. But I still wasn’t convinced that Nadolf was the main protagonist in me losing my job.
‘The thing that’s gone wrong for you is that Grayman’s managers have said certain things about you and he, as headmaster, has supported them. And I’ve already told you how the older members of the common room are disappointed by the way Sarin has handled all of this.’
Supporting his managers unquestionably would have been admirable under normal circumstances but I wondered whether the main players – Nadolf, Timmy and Sarin – had fabricated or even exaggerated things about me behind my back to suit their own ends. Certainly Grayman never asked me once of my opinion of events and he knew from my appraisal meeting that things had been said and written about me which had never been done so before.
I had also been aware for a time that the older members of the common room knew the details of what happened to me, in the process breaking the rules of my confidentiality agreement. Whoever they were, they had a weighty voice and opinion in the whole matter but I was glad ‘they’ were disappointed with Sarin. After all, I’d been a well-respected professional up until my time at Faggs School but I was also aware that the shit from the last two and a half years at Queensford and Faggs School has turned my head. It was now an eye for an eye and I have slowly stooped to their level in seeking revenge to make myself feel better. In doing so, though, I may have opened up the possibility for them to take their own revenge on me at some distant point in time. Where Nadolf is concerned, I have a feeling events will soon catch up with him, not maybe as a result of anything I might do but certainly what somebody else will do. I viewed with great satisfaction the long deep scratch on his treasured sports car when I passed his house the other evening and I remembered him telling me how one of his cars had been found ablaze on his driveway right next to his house a few years back. Had another member of staff whom he’d shafted taken out their revenge on him as well?
As the end of term draws nearer, more and more people ask me how I feel about leaving; some of the pupils even tell me they love me and don’t want me to go! Under these circumstances, it’s hard to keep my mixed feelings to myself. It’s clear I could not continue working in the science department for a moment longer but there are other areas of school life which I have enjoyed and will miss badly. As I explained to an increasing number of colleagues: if I was in a department other than science, I would still be teaching at the school.
‘Vernon? Do you not think there’s also another element to all of this apart from the sexist element we’ve talked about?’ I asked once again, thinking of my recent conversation with Vivian about Justin.
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Well, I think there might be.’
Although, it doesn’t really matter now.

There’s been no sign of Sarin for several days and I was wondering whether she was at Queensford getting the low down from Terry Adams, putting two and two together about my time there. How much longer would I have to suffer for Justin’s misdemeanours? From now on, I will just have to learn to keep my mouth shut.
And, for a woman, that is a difficult thing to do.

Monday 30th June
A letter arrived from Vivian today, expressing her concern for my welfare. It was the day I was going to the pub with the biologists to celebrate my leaving.
‘Why don’t you come along? I asked her over the telephone.
‘It’s very nice of you, sweetheart, but I really couldn’t face it. Nadolf promised to arrange a science farewell party for me and nothing’s happened. After so many years of working there, I’m very sad about it all but I’ll come to your leaving party with the ladies at the end of term.’
‘That’ll be great.’
‘By the way, I’ve placed some leaflets about my book in people’s pigeonholes. So if you see anyone, tell them to buy it for me, will you?’
‘Yes, I’ll do that,’ I promised, faithfully. ‘By the way, Vivian, you know that comment you made about how you thought my involvement with Justin would have been the thing which tipped the balance in getting rid of me.’
‘What comment, sweetheart?’
‘That one you made in the pub last week’.
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Well, what did you mean by it?’
‘Well, I think with Timmy’s history as soon as he found out about this guy you went out with losing his job he knew he wouldn’t get your support for all the comments he makes about girls.’
‘So you think he actively tried to get rid of me for that reason?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Do you think he would have told Watt Grayman or Sarin Fleischman?’
‘No, I don’t think so, particularly as there’s something on him in the archives.’
‘So, he would have kept it to himself so as not to draw attention to something that he himself had been involved in?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘But it’s not fair he deems me guilty just by my association with Justin.’
‘Yes, I know sweetheart but that’s what he’s done.’
It was the final piece of the jigsaw.

At Hannah’s leaving-do in the pub that evening, all the biologists were there, chatting and drinking as if none of them had a care in the world, or any guilt. Timmy was seemingly pleasant but his wife was there and so he had to be careful. Somehow, the conversation got onto Jon Jeeson’s suicide, a chemist and a housemaster of one of the boys’ boarding houses.
‘The school has got to take some of the blame for the suicide of that man,’ declared Hannah, throwing caution to the wind with her opinion after a few glasses of red wine.
‘But you weren’t at the school at the time, so how can you say?’ asked Neil, his annoyance clearly showing in his voice. He was a ‘yes’ man through and through, and weak to the very core of his personality.
‘I’ve heard a lot about the issue from several people and I’ve seen first-hand what this school does to people.’
Her colleagues sat in silence; all eyes were now on her. She remembered Vivian telling her how, on the day of Jon’s funeral, the school behaved as if it was just another day: business as usual.
‘I can associate with how Jon Jeeson must have felt because I’ve been made to feel so unhappy in this school that I’ve just wanted to jump out in front of a car,’ she declared, her voice getting louder and louder, so much so that the manager of the pub had to ask the group to keep down their voices.
The following day, a rumour had already started to circulate around the staff that the biology department had been warned to be quiet in the pub. Although Hannah hoped she could manage to finish her last few days in the dignified manner she had maintained up until that point, it would not be long before the rumour about the pub incident reached the ears of the headmaster.
And then the shit would hit the fan.

Nadolf was checking on staff turning up late for lessons in the last few days of term. Suddenly, he walked unannounced into the biology workroom. All the biologists hated it when he did that and Hannah felt her stomach tighten from a mixture of fear and resentment.
‘About that meeting, Hannah,’ he demanded, without any warning. ‘Do you still want it? I’m very busy at the moment. Will you want to meet soon? Do you still want to meet up?’
He gave her little chance to answer his string of questions but she did not care because it allowed her more time to think, to assimilate the meaning behind his incessant gabble.
‘I’ll deal with Phosgena Large over the issue,’ she replied briefly. She did not want to meet with him anymore but she wasn’t going to tell him that at all. She was just going to let him stew in his own juice.
‘But do you still want the meeting?’ he persisted, bearing down on her whilst she sat at her desk working.
‘I’ll deal with Phosgena about it,’ she repeated calmly.
‘Well, I’m very busy,’ he continued, in an agitated manner. ‘So you’ll have to do it soon.’
He had tried to be so pleasant to her of late but his attitude that moment strongly indicated he was a worried man. What with his argument with the chief technician, the complaints from Timmy and Harry about their appraisals, and her ever-increasing digs at him, he was intelligent enough to recognise all was not well.
The slow spiral of his decline had begun.

Hannah showed Vernon an email she had received from Phosgena Large. It was evident Nadolf had told her of Hannah’s request for a meeting with him and the simpering bully wanted big fat momma Phosgena present to do his bullying for him.
Excellent.
The fact he had gone to Phosgena in the first place smacked of a need to cover his tail and this was enough satisfaction for Hannah for the time being. However, the wording in Phosgena’s email was heavily weighted against her because it stated that Hannah wanted to discuss ‘how the school had treated her’, which was not what she had asked of Nadolf at all! Emailing back her response to Phosgena that this implication was simply incorrect, it was clear Nadolf had once again tried to deflect his unprofessional behaviour towards something or somebody else. Laughably in this case, he was blaming the school and Hannah hoped Phosgena would take him to task over it.
The bastard!
‘Do you think Nadolf is worried?’ Hannah asked, once Vernon Peters had finished reading the email.
‘Mmmmm,’ he mused, ‘could be.’
‘Do you think it’s worth going to see Phosgena anyway?’
‘What about? To talk about August’s wages?’
‘I’d never thought of that. Yes, I suppose it’s worth a try.’ She was thinking more along the lines of informing on Nadolf’s unprofessional behaviour, on behalf of herself, on behalf of her colleagues.
‘Well, you won’t know this but Timmy went to ask for you to be paid in August but he didn’t want you to know.’
‘Who did he go and see?’
‘The Bursar.’
Hannah was dumbstruck. Although it was the sort of supportive action she would have expected of him as a head of department, it did not quite fit in with his overall dishonourable behaviour towards her.
‘Well, it would have been a waste of time for him to ask because if they’d paid me another month then I could have sued them for their unprofessional behaviour.’
‘Yes, I know that. But at least he did try. Anyway, if you want me to go into your meeting with Nadolf then I’m still quite prepared to do so.’
‘Thank you, Vernon, but I can’t see myself going, quite frankly,’ she smiled. ‘But I might change my mind. I’ll see.’
‘I don’t know whether you’ve heard yet but there was an incident on Tuesday evening, at the common room function.’
She wondered what Vernon was referring to. Visions of an argument or a drunken showdown came immediately to her mind.
‘Do you mean the function to say goodbye to leaving colleagues?’
‘Yes.’
‘So what happened?’
‘It happened when Nadolf stood up to talk about Philip leaving.’
‘Was it bad?’
‘Well, it was a little more than that. Quite frankly, it was quite disgusting and people present said they couldn’t believe his behaviour. We’ve never had anybody talk like that before about a leaving colleague. His ranting and raving about Philip’s departure from the science department was as if he was drunk.’
Hannah sniggered. ‘I wish I’d been there but I’ve had such a busy week and so many other functions to go to. And apart from that, I didn’t want someone saying wonderful things about me knowing certain people haven’t been happy with me. I’ve been humiliated enough!’
‘Yes, I understand that. Vivian didn’t come along either which implied that at least she’d been invited, which was more than what the science department had arranged for her.’
Towards the end of term, Nadolf seemed very agitated, particularly on the very last day. Hannah got the impression he was constantly checking where she was, whom she was with, what she was doing, and what she was saying. He was running scared of her all right. Or did he or the senior management team think she might get up to some sort of mischief? Had this happened to him in the past when he had engineered the same sort of dirty deed to others before her – Jake and Alman? If anything, she was going to be over-cautious about how she behaved, especially after this length of time of holding her dignity in!
Nadolf’s bizarre and dramatic speech at the leavers’ function was soon to be the centre of school gossip. It seemed his public over-exuberance for Philip was his way of impressing upon his common room colleagues that all was well in the science department. Inside, he knew he had to make amends for his unprofessional behaviour. But the final verdict about his ranting and raving came from one of Hannah’s well-respected female colleagues, a tutor in the same boarding house as hers.
‘His speech could only have been described as coming from somebody who was mad,’ Hannah’s colleague had said.
Which left Hannah feeling vindicated but very worried indeed.

Speech Day was held on the very last day of the summer term.
It was a frightening and intimidating experience.
Teachers all gowned up in their rainbow colours, and furs of their alma mater,
And parents in their best bib-and-tucker, and real tans,
With their Mercedes, BMWs, Jaguars, and Bentleys parked precariously outside.
A prime target for the smash-and-grab brigade, in a working class town.
All packed into the Speech Room, with just a few spare places for prize-winning pupils,
Almost as an after-thought.
Teachers in a multitude of rows of wooden benches, severely tiered on the stage;
Parents in a multitude of rows of plush chairs, softly tiered in the auditorium.
Teachers and parents, face-to-face, almost nose-to-nose.
Eyes everywhere: sensing, searching, and checking no one face was glaring at another.
Teachers acutely aware of parents who’d given them a hard time with their incessant aggressive complaints,
And of their progeny who’d made their lives a misery with their incessant aggressive behaviour in the classroom.
Like, engendering like.
Parents aware of teachers, whose work they were constantly dissatisfied with,
And pupils who were the cause of the problems in the first place, with their arrogance and rudeness.
Tension was in the air.
England! Oh, England!
Is this what you are so proud of when you boast your education abroad?
And then, the proceedings start.
The tall, emaciated headmaster stands up to lord it over his fee-paying clients, to waffle on about this-and-that
And how well the school was doing.
And wasn’t he and the governors clever at achieving it all?
And then the nudge to her left, a slight twist of the head, and a swivel of the eyes to see what was up.
A piece of paper, a pen, and a whisper of an instruction.
She stiffened for several seconds, looking straight ahead at the sea of eyes, seemingly on top of her,
Afraid they were watching what she was doing, what she was thinking.
Could she do it?
Could she bend her head to write, knowing hers would be the only one to move
Amongst a blur of motionless bodies?
Fuck it!
Of course, she could.
‘Projected length of headmaster’s speech’.
15 minutes, she thought?
Number of times he mentions the term ‘Faggs Foundation’.
40 times, she thought? Or maybe even 50?
She filled in the form,
And passed it on.
And then the school song.
Loud,
War-like,
Victorious and proud.
In Latin.
Teachers who criticised the school, singing loudly and forcefully as if they enjoyed it,
As if things were never amiss.
And then, at the end, a smartly-dressed figure, bedecked in Italian high fashion,
Searching,
For the piece of paper with times and names on it: the sweepstake concerning the headmaster’s speech,
The sweepstake, which would have annoyed him immensely.
And the figure?
Not a rank-and-file joker who’d seen it all before, or one who was bored with the proceedings,
But a well-respected one.
One who had the head’s ear.
One who had influence.
Teresa, a housemistress.
The one who’d taken over from Vivian!

The first time Hannah met Vivian’s successor was several years ago now, when she had visited Faggs School for a job interview whilst she was still married and working in a comprehensive school in Swansea. Teresa was still quite young then but even at that stage in her career she had managed to attain the heights of a deputy headship at a very prestigious girls’ school in the south, followed by another senior management position at Faggs School. But although Teresa came over as a seemingly talented and amiable professional, she possessed a darker side to the happily married, mother-of-two persona she liked to project.
‘We only found out about her affair with another female member of staff by accident,’ declared Vivian on one of their evenings out together in Vivian’s local pub.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Hannah, her jaw dropping at once.
‘Well, we were all on our way to a housemasters’ training meeting at some posh hotel at the time. Jill Heaps, Sarin Fleischmann, Olive and I were all in Olive’s car.’
‘What? Sarin used to be a housemistress?’
‘Yes but only for a short space of time because she couldn’t stand the job. She hated it.’
‘So, she didn’t stick it out?’
‘No, she didn’t. But anyway, Jill Heaps, and we all know how evil she can be, said she knew some gossip about our new senior manager but was unwilling to divulge what she knew! In the end, we had to beg her to tell us.’
‘Well, what did she say?’ asked Hannah, intrigued.
‘Jill said Teresa was having an affair with this other female member of staff and all our mouths dropped. We just couldn’t believe it! She then left her husband so that she could move in with this other woman. Luckily, they didn’t have any kids at that point.’
‘My goodness! How dramatic!’ exclaimed Hannah as she tried to imagine Teresa being intimate with a woman.
‘Well, it was a bit but the affair didn’t last long and Teresa soon moved back in with her husband. But what I can’t forgive is the evil way Jill Heaps purposely led us to ask her about her piece of gossip.’
‘Yes, I must admit she has always been pretty rude or cold towards me in almost every encounter I’ve had with her.’
‘And then, of course, Teresa left Faggs School to become a headmistress but when that went pear-shaped, she came back here and after only a very short space of time she’s become a housemistress. This time last year she was just a teacher, then she was elevated to assistant housemistress at Christmas when the post became vacant, and very soon after that she was given my job.
Poor old Vivian, thought Hannah. She must still be suffering as a result of the events of the past year. But then the thought struck her, just as it had done at Queensford School, about Brunhilde.
Who was Teresa having an affair with to get on so fast?

On the very last day of the summer term, a large white envelope wordlessly appeared on Hannah’s empty desk in the biology workroom: it was a leaving card from her colleagues in the science department. She couldn’t quite remember what Nadolf wrote in it because whatever it was made her blood boil instantly but she had a vague recollection it was something glossy and slimy, which she immediately blocked out with a great flourish of whitening fluid. Although she had made it this far, putting on a brave smile for those around her, she was still raw inside from the whole business of being forced out from the school at which she had wanted to teach for so many years.
Because of her rawness, she couldn’t quite bring herself to go to the Leavers’ Ball that evening, to say goodbye to the pupils she had worked so hard for, getting them through their examinations; so, rather than spend the evening at home with her thoughts, she went out to a restaurant in the town with a few of her teaching friends instead.
‘Look, there’s Timmy Baldman over there,’ said someone in her party, ‘with his wife and their friends.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Hannah, disinterested. She intended to ignore the man at all costs.
‘Is that Hannah?’ asked a good-looking male in a loud voice, as he sat directly opposite Timmy and his wife at their table just a few feet away.
Hannah watched silently as Timmy nodded his head. Suddenly, her eyes met with those of the stranger and Hannah knew at once he had been told of her humiliating plight.
By Timmy.
The bastard!
Another instance of Timmy breaching the confidentiality agreement and covering his tail!
‘Who’s the good-looking male?’ Hannah asked Linda, the outgoing head of girls’ games.
‘A friend of Timmy’s. He used to teach here a few years ago.’
Hannah continued to stare helplessly at Timmy’s party, her evening spoilt even before it had begun by the presence of the back-stabbing, two-faced Timmy. She felt like walking up to the table and telling Timmy’s wife exactly what he had been up to behind her back but she kept herself securely in check.
‘Did you know Timmy propositioned me a few years back?’ asked Linda unexpectedly, as their evening eventually came to a close.
‘Did his wife find out?’ replied Hannah, unsurprised by her colleague’s admission.
‘No.’
Looks like Timmy can never keep himself to himself, Hannah thought, bitterly. And why did his wife hug me so tightly on her way out from the restaurant? I hardly know the woman! Surely that implies Timmy is keeping a holier-than-thou stance about me losing my job and shifting the blame onto someone else?
In the pub after the meal, Hannah was interested to see Watt Grayman’s personal assistant standing at the bar, pint of beer in hand, deep in conversation with Linda, the head of girls’ games. As a brash and out-spoken northerner, Hannah had often wondered how the young, attractive woman had managed to become the personal assistant to a headmaster of such a prestigious public school, and it was evident that not only was she very friendly with Linda but that they also gossiped together on a regular basis. It seemed that despite her privileged position at the school, Grayman’s personal assistant was clearly on the same side of the school fence as every other member of the teaching staff: opposite to that of Grayman and his trumped-up senior managers!
‘Listen to this, Linda,’ the PA confided to her sporty friend. ‘I asked Watt Grayman if I could go to the Leavers’ Ball this evening and his response of ‘No !’ came back so quickly, it really pissed me off. He told me only the senior management were allowed to go! So then I said to him: ‘This is crap, Watt’ and in response to that, he just stormed off in a huff!’
Hannah listened with great interest to the PA’s unfolding brief glimpse into life in the headmaster’s office. She also had been on the receiving end of Grayman’s quick-fire response of a definitive ‘No!’ on several occasions; it all fitted in perfectly with how he communicated with those around him. Like an over-bearing parent; a bigot, no less.
So was there dissent in the general’s camp? But even more interesting than that, was his personal assistant a mole?
Hannah was amazed yet secretly pleased that Grayman’s personal assistant was talking this way. Things had to be bad! But if Grayman ever found out what his PA was saying behind his back, surely her job would be on the line? For a brief moment, the thought of reporting the young woman’s comments flicked through Hannah’s mind but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. This was how other staff at the school thought and behaved and, this time at least, she was not going to stoop to their level.
Because she knew, in time, the walls of the headmaster’s fortress would come tumbling down.
Whilst Hannah continued to listen to her ex-colleagues’ derogatory comments about the management of the school, it was the PA’s final comment, which left a searing scar in her mind.
‘I don’t know the details of what happened to you, Hannah, but all I know is they stitched you up.’
‘They stitched you up’!
Hannah continued sipping her drink, seemingly unperturbed by this unexpected evidence and mentally incapable of asking the woman for further information.
Because she had, at last, surprisingly accepted her plight.
And was happy with it.

The gathering organised by Olive, a housemistress of one of the girls’ boarding houses, to celebrate Hannah’s leaving did not go as well as Hannah had expected. The whole evening was pleasant enough and Hannah was flattered so many of her female colleagues had made the effort to turn up to say goodbye to her. Pleasant enough, that is, until Nigella brought up Nadolf Fitler’s name and began to relate how awful he was to work with.
At first, Hannah just listened.
And listened.
And then the bomb exploded!
‘I can’t sit here any longer listening to you talk about that man. He’s ill and he’s almost driven me to suicide as a result of what he’s done to me. I’m sorry but I have to get this off my chest.’
The whole room suddenly went quiet and Hannah began to regret she had not kept her counsel as she had done on so many occasions before. She had given in to her womanly ways of divulging her feelings and she wondered who would relate her conversation to those in authority. Her fee reduction! Would it be taken away from her and ruin her children’s education? How would her children survive if they had to complete their examination courses elsewhere?
But the milk had been spilt.

It was Thursday 10^th July, just a few days after the summer term had ended.
‘Right, I’m going to see my personal file,’ she suddenly muttered to herself during the packing of her family’s personal items at home ready for their move to Flogham School. She had been thinking of marching into Phosgena Large’s office for quite a while but had been too afraid at what she might find written about her. The thought had also crossed her mind on several occasions at Queensford School but with one thing and another she had been too busy to see it through. This time, she wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through her fingers.
When she unexpectedly turned up at Watt Grayman’s office, she could almost detect the smell of anxiety as his secretarial staff looked up from their work to see their visitor walk unannounced through the main door. She quickly caught a glimpse of Grayman working in his office, behind his bullyboy desk.
‘I’ll just give Phosgena a ring,’ suggested the headmaster’s PA calmly picking up the telephone, conscious that Grayman could hear her from his office adjacent to her own. She tried desperately to avoid further direct eye contact with Hannah, particularly after noticing her sceptical facial expression which betrayed she knew the PA was trying to warn Phosgena, to give her time to clean up Hannah’s personal file.
When Hannah eventually got the clearance to go and see her personal file, Phosgena was already waiting for her. She noticed immediately how the over-weight personnel manager was thumbing through the file, looking down towards what she was doing rather than looking up to courteously greet her ex-colleague. It was evident she had been checking the file contents but had she removed anything? Yes, of course she had, decided Hannah: anything that would adversely incriminate the headmaster and his career.
It was upsetting to read her colleagues’ perception of her: Hirsuter Montage and her two insolent girls setting their blinkered thoughts and personal opinions of her to paper, Nigella’s two-faced comments about Hannah’s dealings with the same girls, and Sarin’s acid statements giving details of her meetings with Hannah. Notes from Timmy’s observations of her lessons were also there, in which he said she had done well but she also noted his criticisms of her, criticisms he had never shared with her, evidence of his two-faced lies. And why had he described her as defensive, outspoken and highly critical of the school? Admittedly, she had occasionally expressed an opinion at a departmental meeting about the poor behaviour of her pupils and that the school seem disinterested in putting it right but her views were just a reflection of what many others had voiced far more volubly than she! So why were her male colleagues allowed to express their opinions, no matter how strongly, and not her? And then she picked up Nadolf’s assessment of her, a whole page of tightly typed points in small print: some of them laughable, some of them exaggerated, some of them lies. He even referred to her as a Jekyll-and-Hyde character! What did he expect in the face of what she had to endure? Mother Teresa?
They did not know her at all! And there was so much written about her! Things she never knew were going on behind her back! And yet decisions about her future and that of her children were made upon this one-sided version of events, with not one statement compiled by her to explain the accusations levelled against her!
And then she found the missing link in the chain, the reason for it all!
Clearly, she had been stitched up as Grayman’s PA had implied.
She could feel her stomach churn, the tears well up in her eyes.
‘Thank you for letting me see this, Phosgena,’ she said finally, when she decided she had read quite enough. ‘It doesn’t make very nice reading, I must admit. I’m just so glad I’m going to be a middle manager again, with the facility of passing opinions without fear of anything happening to me. But at least I’m still here,’ she smiled as she handed back the thick file of papers to the personnel manager.
‘Well, you had your chance,’ Phosgena judged, spitefully.
‘No, I didn’t. I wasn’t given a chance at all.’
Phosgena did not reply, because she knew the truth.
‘Why do they hate him so much?’ she asked, out of the blue.
Hannah was taken aback. Nadolf! She knows about him, she thought! Someone’s told her. At last! It was almost an admission Nadolf had been behind everything.
‘That’s not my problem but one which you have to sort out,’ Hannah replied confidently, although it now seemed Timmy was guiltier than she had ever imagined from what she had just read. But she no longer cared who was to blame; she had had enough.
And left.

So many loose ends,
So many comments to follow up,
So many questions to answer,
Like a murder mystery.
But one day, she would find out
By visiting those who had given her grief,
Unexpectedly,
On their doorstep.
As if raised from the grave.

Maybe Justin would do that, too.