Up and down in the dales

P E NGUIN B OOK S UP A ND DOW N IN T HE DA LE S P rais e for Up and Dow n in the Dales and Gervas e P hinn: 'If you enjoyed his earlier books you will c ertainly like this one... a light, frothy, entertaining read with a plot that twis ts and bends to link the m any funny s tories the author has gathered over the years ' The Times E duc ational S upplement 'Hilarious and touc hing' Daily M ail 'Y ou have heard it before. Y ou m ay hear it again. For the P hinneas ts am ongs t us , having relis hed this fourth book, will as s uredly c lam our for the fifth' Y ork s hire P os t 'Gervas e P hinn has a unique unders tanding and love of c hildren, and a wonderful gift for s torytelling... a real s tar' E s ther Rantzen 'Gervas e P hinn has bec om e one of B ritain's bes t-loved c om ic writers . Dubbed the J am es Herriot of s c hools , he writes with enorm ous warm th and wit about his rom antic adventures , c areer s truggles , and - above all - the c hildren in the s c hools he vis its , with unc anny ability to c harm and em barras s him in equal m eas ure... Uproarious and touc hing by turns , it is perfec t B ank Holiday reading' Daily M ail 'Gervas e P hinn writes warm ly and with great wit, about the c hildren and adults he m eets in Y orks hire's s c hools . A n enc hanting m ontage of experienc es . Colourful, funny, hones t' E x pres s on S unday 'Gervas e P hinn's m em oirs have m ade him a hero in s c hool s taff-room s ' Daily Telegraph 'Gervas e P hinn is a natural s tory teller... He has a m arvellous ear for one-liners and a c ons tant flow of anec dotes about the things c hildren s ay' Y ork s hire P os t

About the Author Gervas e P hinn leads a very full and bus y life: he is a teac her, freelanc e lec turer, author, poet, s c hool ins pec tor, educ ational c ons ultant, vis iting profes s or of educ ation - but none of thes e is m ore im portant to him than his fam ily. For fourteen years he taught in a range of s c hools until, in 1984, he bec am e General A dvis er for Language Developm ent in Rotherham . Four years later he m oved to North Y orks hire, where he s pent ten years as a s c hool ins pec tor, tim e that has provided s o m uc h s ourc e m aterial for his books ; he was s ubs equently appointed P rinc ipal A dvis er for the c ounty. He is a Fellow of the Royal S oc iety of A rts . Gervas e P hinn is now a freelanc e lec turer and advis er and is in c ons tant dem and both as a s oc ial after-dinner s peaker and at educ ational level. He s peaks and lec tures throughout the c ountry. In 1998 he was one of the s tars of E s ther Rantzen's s how, E s ther, being invited to appear three m ore tim es due to public dem and. Rights in his firs t three books have been s old to televis ion: The Other S ide of the Dale, Ov er Hill and Dale and Head Ov er Heels in the Dales . He has als o written three books of poem s for P uffin.

Up and Down in the Dales Gervase Phinn

P E NGUIN B OOK S

P E NGUIN B OOK S P ublis hed by the P enguin Group P enguin B ooks Ltd, 80 S trand, London W C2R 0RL, E ngland P enguin Group (US A ) Inc ., 375 Huds on S treet, New Y ork, New Y ork 10014, US A P enguin Group (Canada), 10 A lc orn A venue, T oronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B 2 (a divis ion of P ears on P enguin Canada Inc .) P enguin Ireland, 25 S t S tephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a divis ion of P enguin B ooks Ltd) P enguin Group (A us tralia), 250 Cam berwell Road, Cam berwell, V ic toria 3124, A us tralia (a divis ion of P ears on A us tralia Group P ty Ltd) P enguin B ooks India P vt Ltd, 11 Com m unity Centre, P anc hs heel P ark, New Delhi - 110 017, India P enguin Group (NZ), c nr A irborne and Ros edale Roads , A lbany, A uc kland 1310, New Zealand (a divis ion of P ears on New Zealand Ltd) P enguin B ooks (S outh A fric a) (P ty) Ltd, 24 S turdee A venue, Ros ebank 2196, S outh A fric a P enguin B ooks Ltd, Regis tered Offic es : 80 S trand, London W C2R 0RL, E ngland www.penguin.c om Firs t publis hed by Mic hael J os eph 2004 P ublis hed in P enguin B ooks 2005 16 Copyright (c ) Gervas e P hiinn, 2004 A ll rights res erved T he m oral right of the author has been as s erted E xc ept in the United S tates of A m eric a, this book is s old s ubjec t to the c ondition that it s hall not, by way of trade or otherwis e, be lent, re-s old, hired out, or otherwis e c irc ulated without the publis her's prior c ons ent in any form of binding or c over other than that in whic h it is publis hed and without a s im ilar c ondition inc luding this c ondition being im pos ed on the s ubs equent purc has er IS B N: 978-0-14-192458-8

Dedic ated to Tony S torey , Headmas ter of The Hay field S c hool, Donc as ter. For me, he s ets the s tandard by w hic h headteac hers are judged.

Acknowledgements I s hould like to thank Ric hard 'Fairy' Fairc lough for s ugges ting the title; m y ever-patient editor and dear friend J enny Dereham for her c ontinued enc ouragem ent and advic e; and m y wife and fam ily for their forbearanc e. 'A P arent's P ray er' on page 342 is taken from The Day Our Teac her W ent B atty (P uffin 2002).

S o There! Our E nglis h teac her, Mr S m art, S ays writing E nglis h is an art, T hat we s hould always take great c are W hen s pelling words like w ear and w here, W itc h and w hic h and fair and fare, K ey and quay and air and heir, W het and w et and flair and flare, W ring and ring and s tair and s tare, Him and hy mn and their and there, W hine and w ine and pear and pare, Chec k and c heque and tare and tear, Crew s and c ruis e and hare and hair, M eet and meat and bear and bare, K not and not and lay er and lair, Loot and lute and may or and mare. W ell, frankly, s ir, I jus t don't c are S o there!

1 I s tared with dis belief at the objec t in the dis play c abinet. It took pride of plac e am ids t the s hells , pebbles , fronds of dried s eaweed, piec es of c oloured glas s , bits of driftwood and other detritus c ollec ted from the beac h. 'W hat do you think?' as ked the nun with a great s m ile on her round, innoc ent fac e. 'It's ... er... well... er... interes ting,' was all I c ould m anage to s plutter out. I was at Our Lady of Lourdes Rom an Catholic P rim ary S c hool, the s ec ond week of the new s c hool term , to ins pec t the E nglis h teac hing. I had been a s c hool ins pec tor now in the great c ounty ofYorks hire for three years and eac h week brought s om ething new and unexpec ted. A nd I was c ertainly not expec ting what I s aw in the dis play c abinet that c old S eptem ber m orning. 'Y ou s ee,' explained S is ter Marie-T heres e, the headm is tres s , 'I like to m ount a c olourful dis play in the firs t week.' 'I'm s orry?' I s aid, m y eyes s till glued to a c ertain objec t. 'Mount a dis play,' s he s aid, 'to m ake the entranc e hall that little bit brighter and m ore c heerful. T his year, I have dec ided it would be about the s eas hore. A t the end of las t term we took the junior c hildren, Mrs Mc P hee and I, on a s c hool trip to the E as t Coas t. W e vis ited W hitby, c lim bed all the s teps up to the abbey, c alled in at the Captain Cook Mus eum and had s om e lovely long walks along the beac h. I as ked the c hildren to pic k up anything of interes t whic h they found on the s eas hore - s hells and pebbles , of c ours e, but als o any unus ual or interes ting item s whic h m ight have been was hed up. No old bottles , though, I had to put m y foot down about bottles .' 'I s ee,' I s aid, s till s taring inc redulous ly at the objec t res ting in the c entre of the dis play c abinet. 'A nd they c am e bac k with s o m any fas c inating things .' 'S o I s ee,' I m urm ured. 'Y ou'd be s urpris ed what gets was hed up on a beac h.' No I wouldn't, I thought to m ys elf. 'W e've got all m anner of different s hells and s trangely s haped pebbles , polis hed glas s and s om e am azingly c oloured s eaweed. Mrs Mc P hee found s om e piec es of jet on the beac h. It's fos s ilis ed Monkey P uzzle T ree, you know. It's quite rare, I'm told. T hey s till m ake jewellery out of jet. Not that I wear jewellery, of c ours e! ' I c ontinued to s tare at the dis play as the nun c hattered away. W ords failed m e. 'It was all the rage in V ic torian tim es .' 'I'm s orry?' 'J et. I think Queen V ic toria took to wearing it after the death of P rinc e A lbert and it s tarted a trend. Of c ours e, it's not s o popular today. Oh, and one c hild found s om e fos s ils near the c liffs and another a dried s tarfis h and there's a little s eahors e there, s ee. A ll s orts of flots am and jets am that was was hed as hore. S uc h intriguing bits and bobs . S o we have a nic e little c ollec tion to s tim ulate the c hildren's dis c us s ion and their writing.' 'S is ter,' I s aid, 'about the flots am and jets am , the... er... bits and bobs .' 'A nd do you know what that is ?' s he s aid pointing to the c entre of the dis play. 'W hat?' I as ked, with a s inking heart. 'T hat little s hiny orange pebble, at the front.' I s ighed with relief. 'No, I'm afraid, I don't.' 'T hat's am ber. S om etim es little piec es of am ber are was hed up on the beac h but only along c ertain parts of the c oas t and it's very diffic ult to find. It's fos s ilis ed res in from trees , you know, m illions of years old and quite valuable, I believe. It s tarts off in the B altic and is was hed ac ros s the oc ean and ends up on the E as t Coas t. T hat's us ed for jewellery too,' the nun burbled on. 'S om etim es you find little ins ec ts fos s ilis ed ins ide. Mrs Mc P hee - s he's m y deputy by the way - m et a delightful m an on the beac h, us ed to be the c urator at the m us eum at York, I believe, who lived jus t along the c oas t at Runs wic k B ay, and he s howed her -' 'S is ter,' I began. 'Y es , Mr P hinn?' S he looked direc tly at m e, s m iling. 'A bout the dis play.' 'Y es ?' S he s tared up with a wide and innoc ent expres s ion. 'W ell, S is ter, there is -' I opened m y m outh to c ontinue but los t c ourage. 'Oh, nothing.' S om eone was going to have to tell her, I thought, but it c ertainly was n't going to be m e. 'Las t week,' s he babbled on, 'the older c hildren wrote s om e delightful little poem s and des c riptions , whic h I've m ounted on the wall around the dis play. Don't you think it looks wonderful?' 'Y es , indeed, wonderful,' I m urm ured, m y eyes s till riveted on the offending objec t in the c abinet. 'I want the s c hool to look really nic e for when the bis hop vis its on Monday.' 'T he bis hop's c om ing on Monday?' I as ked in a doom -laden voic e. 'Y es , he's c om ing to talk to the c hildren about their Firs t Holy Com m union. Las t year he brought his c ros ier to s how them . One c hild wrote to him afterwards : "T hank you for c om ing to s ee us , B is hop Mic hael. I now know jus t what a real c rook looks like." W e did laugh, Mrs Mc P hee and m e.' J us t then a s m all boy approac hed the headm is tres s and tugged on her c loak. A t las t the nun s topped her babbling, and bent down to hear what the c hild wanted to tell her. I grabbed at m y c hanc e to get help. 'S is ter,' I s aid quic kly, 'I've forgotten to s ign in. I'll go and do it now.' 'Oh, don't worry about that now, Mr P hinn,' s aid the nun. 'Y ou c an do it at m orning break.' 'No, no, I had better do it now,' I ins is ted. 'I'll jus t pop into the offic e.' W ithout waiting for a reply, I s hot ac ros s the hall and into the s c hool offic e, m aking the s c hool s ec retary jum p with s urpris e. 'Quic k! ' I his s ed. 'Can you c om e with m e?' 'P ardon?' s he replied. 'Can you c om e with m e now, it's urgent! ' 'I'm in the m iddle of c hec king the dinner m oney,' s he told m e. 'It's extrem ely inc onvenient.' 'It really is v ery im portant,' I told her. 'B ut I'm halfway through -' 'P leas e,' I begged. 'Oh very well,' s he s aid, s haking her head, 'but I don't know what c an be s o urgent.' 'Y ou'll s ee in a m inute,' I s aid, and popped m y head out of the offic e to s ee where S is ter Marie-T heres e was . Fortunately the headm is tres s had m oved down the c orridor with the s m all boy who was s howing her a pic ture on the wall. 'Look,' I whis pered, pointing to the m anifes tation in the dis play c abinet. T here was a s harp intake of breath. 'Oh dear,' groaned the s c hool s ec retary, rais ing her hand to her nec k and winc ing vis ibly. 'Do you s ee what I m ean?' 'I do,' s he m um bled. 'However did that get in there?' 'I s uppos e S is ter m us t have put it in, without realis ing what it is . P erhaps you ought to tell her.' 'T ell her?' s he his s ed. 'W hat it is .' 'Me?' s he exc laim ed. 'W hy m e? Y ou're the E nglis h ins pec tor, you're the one who's s uppos ed to be good with words .' 'No, no, I c ouldn't pos s ibly do it. It would be m uc h better c om ing from you.' 'Mr P hinn,' s he s aid, looking m e s traight in the eyes , 'I am prepared to do m os t things as a s c hool s ec retary but explaining to a nun what a c ondom is , is not one of them .' 'W ell, I c ertainly c an't,' I s aid. 'A nd what are you two talking about?' c am e a c heerful voic e from behind us . T he s c hool s ec retary and I s wung round together to find S is ter Marie-T heres e, with that s weet innoc ent expres s ion on her round fac e. 'W e were jus t looking at your lovely dis play, S is ter,' I replied feebly. 'I'm very pleas ed with it,' trilled the nun. 'I am s ure B is hop Mic hael will get quite a s urpris e when he c om es on Monday.' 'I bet he will,' I s aid s otto v oc e. 'It's very nic e, S is ter,' s aid the s c hool s ec retary, giving a watery s m ile. T here was a nervous red ras h c reeping up her nec k. T hen s he turned to m e and gave m e a c ons piratorial look. 'I'll s ee to it,' s he whis pered. 'J us t keep her oc c upied.' 'P erhaps we s hould m ake a s tart, S is ter,' I s aid pleas antly. 'Y es , yes , of c ours e, Mr P hinn,' s aid the nun. 'T he c hildren are all very exc ited about m eeting you.' I followed the headm is tres s as s he headed for the junior departm ent with a veritable s pring in her s tep. W hen I glanc ed bac k, I s aw the s c hool s ec retary s till s taring at the dis play c abinet like a hungry c at watc hing a tank full of goldfis h. A t the end of the c orridor was a large plas ter s tatue of Our Lady of Lourdes . S he had a pale, gentle fac e with downc as t eyes , a golden halo, and her hands were pres s ed together in prayer. In the long blue veil and white c loak and with an innoc ent expres s ion, the figure did not look dis s im ilar to S is ter MarieT heres e. I was brought up s hort and gas ped out loud. On a plinth, beneath the s tatue, was the ins truc tion: A s you pas s Our Lady, S ay an ejac ulatory prayer. 'W hatever is an ejac ulatory prayer, S is ter?' I as ked the nun, who had turned bac k to m e when s he heard m y gas p. ' "Our Lady of Lourdes pray for us ." ' 'I'm s orry?' 'T hat's an ejac ulatory prayer, Mr P hinn,' s aid the nun. 'J us t a s m all appeal for Our Lady to watc h over us and keep us s afe.' 'I s ee,' I s aid, m y m ind whirling bac k to the objec t in the dis play c abinet. T he junior c las s room was warm and welc om ing. T he c hildren, aged between nine and eleven, looked up eagerly as we entered. 'Good m orning, c hildren,' s aid the headm is tres s with jovial earnes tnes s . 'Good m orning, S is ter Marie-T heres e. Good m orning, everybody,' c horus ed the c hildren. 'Have they been good, Mrs Mc P hee?' the nun as ked the teac her. 'Need you as k, S is ter?' replied her c olleague, s c anning the s ea of fac es before her, with an expres s ion whic h defied c ontradic tion. Mrs Mc P hee was a plum p wom an with a thic k fuzz of white hair and the pale eyes of a piranha. S he wore a tight-fitting, wheat-c oloured turtlenec k s weater, heavy brown tweed pleated s kirt, thic k woollen s toc kings the c olour of m ud and s ubs tantial brogues . A round her nec k hung a s ingle rope of large blue beads . I c ould tell s he was the 'I-s tand-no-nons ens e' s ort of teac her. 'T his is m y indis pens able deputy headteac her, Mr P hinn,' s aid the nun, giving her c olleague the fulles t and m os t c harm ing of s m iles . 'S he's worth her weight in gold.' 'Oh, S is ter, really! ' s aid Mrs Mc P hee, laughing in an enthus ias tic , hors y s ort of way. 'Now, c hildren,' s aid the headm is tres s , 'I told you that we would be having a very s pec ial vis itor this m orning and here he is . Mr P hinn is a s c hool ins pec tor, here to look at all the lovely work you have been doing.' T he nun turned in m y direc tion, res ted a s m all hand on m y arm and s aid, in a lower voic e, 'T his group, Mr P hinn, is one of the junior c las s es . T here's quite a range of age and ability, as you will s ee. T he c hildren have been bus y c om pos ing prayers and when B is hop Mic hael c om es on Monday, we s hall have a very s pec ial as s em bly when s om e of them will read out their efforts .' 'T hat s ounds s plendid,' I s aid, wondering what s ort of m ood the bis hop would be in if he had s een what I had s een in the dis play in the entranc e hall. 'Now, Mr P hinn,' c ontinued S is ter, 'would you like to have a little look around the c las s room , perhaps lis ten to s om e of the c hildren read and exam ine the work they have been doing and then -' 'T here's not m uc h written work in their books ,' interrupted Mrs Mc P hee in one of thos e deep, loud voic es pos s es s ed by m arket traders . 'B ut you will not be expec ting to s ee a lot, will you, Mr P hinn, this being the s tart of term ?' S he gave m e a look whic h s aid: 'Dis agree with m e, if you dare! ' 'No,' I as s ured her. 'I s hall not be expec ting to s ee a lot.' 'W ell, that's jus t as well,' s aid Mrs Mc P hee, her fac e relaxing, 'bec aus e they haven't done m uc h yet - jus t the prayers they are working on.' 'I'll leave you to it then,' s im pered S is ter. 'I have paperwork to attend to.' A s s he headed for the door, the headm is tres s s topped in her trac ks and peered out of the window. I followed her gaze to s ee the s c hool s ec retary c reeping pas t in the direc tion of the dus tbins . S he was wearing bright yellow rubber gloves and a pained expres s ion and s he was c arrying s om ething, at arm 's length, on a s hovel. 'W hatever is Mrs S anders up to?' s aid S is ter to Mrs Mc P hee. 'P erhaps the s c hool c at has ...' and s he m outhed 'm ous e' to her c olleague before leaving the room . T he firs t pupil I approac hed was very keen to tell m e about the books he liked to read. He was a s m all boy with s hiny blond hair, c lear blue eyes and a fac e full of frec kles . He told m e his nam e was A lexander. 'I expec t all your pals c all you A lex,' I s aid to him . 'No they don't, ac tually,' he told m e s erious ly. 'T hey c all m e A lexander. I don't like m y nam e s hortened.' 'No,' I s aid s m iling, 'neither do I.' Connie, the c aretaker at the S taff Developm ent Centre, s om etim es referred to m e as 'Gerv'. It s ounded like a brand of c heap petrol. 'A nd how are you today, A lexander?' I as ked. 'W ell, I'm not a hundred per c ent,' he told m e. 'B ut I don't like to m is s s c hool.' 'A nd what is your reading book about?' 'Dinos aurs . I'm really into dinos aurs ,' the boy explained s olem nly. 'A re you?' 'Oh yes . T hey're inc redible c reatures . I know quite a lot about dinos aurs . Do you know m uc h about dinos aurs , Mr P hinn?' 'No, not a lot.' 'Do you know whic h was the longes t?' as ked the boy, looking m e c onfidently in the eye. 'I'm not entirely s ure,' I s aid and I was n't. 'Is it the brontos aurus ?' 'No. It's the diplodoc us . A s long as two double-dec ker bus es , end to end. Do you know whic h was the bigges t?' 'W as that the brontos aurus ?' 'W rong again. It was the brac hios aurus . It was taller than two giraffes and as heavy as eight full-grown elephants . Mind-blowing is n't it? T hey weighed about thirty tonnes . Do you know whic h was the s m alles t?' 'I've no idea,' I told him . 'Com ps ognathus . It was about the s ize of a c hic ken. Y ou'll not know whic h was the fas tes t, then?' 'No, I'm afraid not.' 'Gallim im us ,' s aid the boy. 'It was a bit like an os tric h and c ould run over thirty m iles an hour.' 'Really. I do know whic h was the fierc es t, though,' I s aid. 'W hic h one?' T he boy looked up at m e intently with the c lear blue eyes . 'T he tyrannos aurus rex.' T he boy s m iled and s hook his head. 'W rong again, I'm afraid. It was the deinonyc hus . It had huge s las hing c laws on eac h bac k foot and a s et of killer teeth.' He m ade a gnas hing m ovem ent, then c lac ked his teeth together to em phas is e his point. 'T hey hunted in pac ks . Its nam e m eans "terrible c law". A lot of people think the tyrannos aurus rex was the fierc es t,' he s aid leaning bac k in his c hair, 'but they're wrong.' 'W hic h was the las t dinos aur to live on E arth?' I as ked him . I was genuinely interes ted. V ery often the ques tions I as ked pupils were ps eudo ques tions . I already knew the ans wers and was m erely s eeing if the c hildren did. It was very refres hing to as k ques tions for whic h I did not know the ans wers . 'Now that's a tric ky one, Mr P hinn.' He s uc ked in his breath and thought for a m om ent. 'Mos t people would s ay it was the tric eratops , but we c an't be s ure. T hey lived about s ixty-five m illion years ago, give or take a m illion. S hall I read you a bit from m y book?' 'Y es , I think that's a very good idea,' I s aid. S o the boy read with great gus to from a thic k tom e. He s topped at intervals to tell m e additional fas c inating fac ts about the great c reatures and to point out interes ting features in the pic tures . 'Y ou're a very good reader as well as being s o knowledgeable, A lexander,' I told him .

'Y es , I know,' he s aid in a m atter-of-fac t voic e. 'A nd you're a very good lis tener.' I s m iled and s hook m y head. I have m et m any a prec oc ious c hild in m y tim e but A lexander took the bis c uit. 'A nd when you leave s c hool, I expec t you want to work in the Natural His tory Mus eum in London, don't you, and be the world expert on dinos aurs ?' 'Oh no, Mr P hinn, I want to be a s olic itor, like m y father. T here's not m uc h of a future in dinos aurs .' T he next c hild, although younger than A lexander, was a large girl with s auc er eyes and thic k blac k hair tied in great bunc hes . Her thum b was s tuc k in her m outh. I had intended as king her to read m e a few s entenc es from her book but this turned out to be not m uc h m ore than a pic ture book. Clearly s he had s om e s pec ial needs and experienc ed diffic ulty with her reading. T he page s he was looking at depic ted a large blac k hors e galloping ac ros s a river. B eneath it was written: 'T he hors e is in the water.' W hen I as ked her what it s aid, s he looked at m e for a m om ent, regarded m e as if I were s im ple-m inded, rem oved the thum b and inform ed m e bluntly, 'It s ez: "T 'nag's in t'bec k! "' W hile I was lis tening to another c hild read, I heard Mrs Mc P hee's threateningly low voic e s om ewhere behind us . 'No, A lexander, I s aid a prayer.' 'B ut, m is s , I want to write about m y holidays ,' appealed the c hild. 'W ell, you are not going to,' s aid the teac her s harply., 'Y ou are to write a prayer like everyone els e and that is that.' 'B ut, Mrs Mc P hee,' pers is ted the c hild, 'I really don't want to write a prayer.' 'A lexander,' s napped the teac her, 'everyone is writing a prayer. W e have looked at prayers , lis tened to prayers and read prayers . I have s pent a full les s on telling you how to write a prayer. W e are not writing about your holidays . W hen the bis hop c om es in on Monday and we are in as s em bly reading out our prayers s tarting "T hank you, God" - it would s ound rather s trange your reading about your holidays , "Las t s um m er we went to B lac kpool", wouldn't it?' 'A c tually, we didn't go to B lac kpool, m is s ,' the c hild told her. 'W e went in a gite in Franc e.' 'I'm not in the s lightes t bit interes ted where you went, A lexander,' interrupted the teac her s harply. 'Now get on with your prayer. Chop! Chop! ' 'B ut, m is s -' began the boy, in a wheedling tone of voic e. Mrs Mc P hee drew a deep exas perated breath. 'No buts , A lexander, off you go. "T hank you, God! "' B ut the c hild wouldn't let it lie. 'Y ou s ee, Mrs Mc P hee, I don't know whether I believe in God.' 'Not believe in God! ' exc laim ed the teac her, heaving her am ple bos om , her pale eyes now ablaze. 'I think I believe in the "B ig B ang" theory like m y father,' s aid the c hild, quite undaunted by the teac her's dram atic dis play of outrage. 'A lexander Maxwell-S m ith,' s aid Mrs Mc P hee, s lowly and in a hus hed and s lightly s inis ter voic e, 'if you do not s tart your prayer "T hank you, God" in the next few s ec onds , there w ill be a "B ig B ang! "' I turned round to look at A lexander. T he boy, s houlders drooping and with a weary expres s ion on his s m all fac e, s louc hed in his c hair, s ighed and took up his pen. Mrs Mc P hee gave m e an exas perated look and s hook her head. 'Not believe in God, indeed,' s he m outhed. A little while later, having heard m ore c hildren read and looked at s om e of the prayers , I arrived bac k at A lexander's des k. His prayer was written in large neat handwriting. 'T hank you, God,' it s tarted. Good, I thought, he had dec ided to do as he was told. T hen I read on: 'T hank you, God, for m y holidays . T his year we s tayed in a gite in V enc e (that's in the s outh of Franc e) and had a m os t enjoyable tim e.' He had followed this with an ac c ount of his holiday whic h s ounded anything but 'm os t enjoyable'. His m other, he wrote, had got s unburnt and looked like a c ooked lobs ter, his father had been ill for three days with his head down the lav, his brother had fallen over and s prained his wris t and his little s is ter had got los t and they had all ended up at the polic e s tation. His eventful ac c ount c onc luded with: 'B ut in s pite of all the problem s , I had a good tim e and thank you God, for m y holidays . A m en.' I left before the 'B ig B ang' whic h would s urely oc c ur when his teac her read A lexander's prayer, and headed for the infant departm ent. I had a vis ion of the boy garrotted by the blue beads or s uffoc ated in the heaving bos om of the form idable Mrs Mc P hee. P as s ing through the entranc e hall, I s topped by the dis play and, m uc h to m y relief, s aw it was bereft of the offending artic le. In the next c las s , I dis c overed Mis s Reec e, a young wom an with s andy-c oloured hair tied bac k in a pony tail and wearing a bright yellow m ohair jum per and pale c ream s lac ks . S he s at with the c hildren c lus tered around her and was reading them a s tory from a large c oloured pic ture book whic h was dis played on an eas el bes ide her. One s m all girl s at on her knee. I c rept to the bac k of the c las s room , perc hed on a s m all m elam ine c hair and lis tened. 'I c an s ee the little lam b bleating in the m eadow,' read the teac her s lowly and dram atic ally. S he pointed at the pic ture. 'Can you s ee the little lam b, c hildren? Is n't he lovely and woolly?' T he c hildren nodded vigorous ly. Mis s Reec e c ontinued, 'I c an s ee the little c alf m ooing for his m other.' 'He's blac k and white, m is s ,' volunteered the c hild s itting on the teac her's knee. 'He is , is n't he, Chloe.' T he teac her read on. 'I c an s ee the little foal fris king in the field. "Fris king" is an unus ual word, is n't it, c hildren?' 'It m eans kic king up its legs , Mis s Reec e,' c alled out a c hild s itting c ros s -legged in front of her. 'W ell done, Martin. It does m ean that.' A nother c hild rais ed a hand. 'Mis s ! Mis s ! ' s he c ried. 'In a m om ent, Caitlin. W e will be able to talk about the anim als when I've finis hed reading the book.' 'He's s weet, is n't he, m is s ?' s aid the little girl s itting on the teac her's knee. 'He is very s weet, Chloe,' agreed the teac her, 'but jus t lis ten, dear, there's a good girl, otherwis e we will never get to the end.' S he turned the page. 'I c an s ee the little piglet grunting in the gras s .' A s m all boy, with a s hoc k of red hair and a runny nos e, who was s itting direc tly in front of m e, began s norting and grunting like a pig. 'W e don't need the anim al nois es , J ohn-P aul, thank you very m uc h,' s aid the teac her with a s light edge to her voic e. 'J us t look at the pic tures and lis ten to the words .' S he turned the page. 'Mis s ! Mis s ! ' c ried little Caitlin again. 'W hat did I s ay, Caitlin?' as ked the teac her. 'J us t be patient, you c an tell m e in a m inute.' S he read on. 'I c an s ee the little c hic ks c hirping in the farm yard.' T he s m all c hild s itting on the teac her's knee leaned forward and looked intently at the pic ture of the bright yellow c hic ks in the pic ture. 'T hey look as if they have jus t hatc hed out of their eggs , don't they, c hildren?' s aid the teac her. 'A ll s oft and fluffy and golden.' Chloe looked at the pic ture and then at the teac her and then bac k at the pic ture. A fter a m om ent s he began s troking the teac her's bright yellow m ohair jum per. 'Do you know, m is s ,' s he s aid in that loud, c onfident voic e only pos s es s ed by young c hildren, 'you look as if you've jus t been laid.' Mis s Reec e turned c rim s on and I nearly fell off the c hair, laughing. 'Mis s ! Mis s ! ' Caitlin's voic e now s ounded des perate. 'W hat is it?' as ked the teac her, attem pting to gain her c om pos ure. 'Mis s ,' m oaned the c hild, 'I've been s ic k in m y jum per. I've been trying to tell you.' I watc hed Mis s Reec e with great adm iration as s he produc ed a blac k bin-liner from her des k drawer, s tripped the c hild of her jum per like a poac her s kinning a rabbit and depos ited the s oiled artic le of c lothing ins ide without s o m uc h as an iota of vom it touc hing anything or anybody. T he teac her then expertly tied a tight knot in the bin liner and dropped it next to her des k. 'W e'll let your m um m y take that hom e after s c hool, s hall we, Caitlin?' s he s aid pleas antly. Mis s Reec e then took the c hild's hand and as ked m e, 'W ill you be all right on your own for a few m inutes , Mr P hinn? I'm jus t going to take Caitlin to the s c hool offic e. S om etim es one c hild being s ic k s tarts all the others off. T here are plenty of bin liners in m y top drawer, if you need them .' Later that m orning, while the c hildren were bus y writing s hort poem s and des c riptions about the anim als , I lis tened to a s eries of very c om petent little readers who had a great deal to s ay for them s elves . One little girl, with apple-red c heeks , was partic ularly c hatty. 'A re you a good s peller, Mr P hinn?' s he as ked. 'I am a very, very good s peller,' I teas ed. 'I c an s pell any word.' 'A ny word?' s he gas ped. 'A ny word at all. I'm the world's bes t s peller. W ould you like to tell m e a word and I will s pell it for you?' 'Y es , but you're a grown-up,' s he s aid, folding her s m all arm s ac ros s her c hes t. 'Grown-ups c an s pell words .' S he thought for a m om ent. 'Can you s pell m y nam e?' 'Of c ours e, I c an,' I replied, but knew that this m ight prove tric ky. I have m et c hildren with a range of unus ual, not to s ay bizarre nam es , as well as nam es whic h were not s pelt as they s ound. T here was K ris tofer, Curs ton, Mykell, Charleen, K aylee, Heyleigh, K ylee, B arby, B las e (pronounc ed B laze), Gooey (s pelt Guy) and a c hild c alled P ortia but s pelt P ors c he for, as the teac her explained to m e with a wry s m ile, the girl's father had always wanted a P ors c he c ar. In one s c hool there were two s ets of twins from the s am e fam ily, aged ten and eleven res pec tively, nam ed after great tragic heroines : Cleopatra and Cas s andra, Des dem ona and Dido. T hen there were the brother and s is ter, S am and E lla whic h, when s aid at s peed, s ounded like food pois oning. 'My nam e is Rois in,' s aid the little girl bringing m e bac k to the pres ent. 'It's Iris h. It m eans "little ros e".' How very apt, I thought, looking at the ros y c heeks . I s pelled it c orrec tly and pulled a s m ug expres s ion. 'A nd m y brother's nam e's Niall.' I got that one right, as well. 'My s is ters are c alled S iobhaun and Nuala.' I was doing really well now and obvious ly im pres s ing m y little interrogator who was n't to know about m y Iris h bac kground. 'A nd there's m y brother, Rory and rem em ber, Mr P hinn, he has eight letters in his nam e. A nd m y c ous in, Orlah, who has nine in hers .' I buried m y head in m y hands in m oc k helples s nes s and heard the c hild giggle unc ontrollably. T hen Rois in s pelt the nam es for m e, s peaking the letters loudly and s lowly as if I was hard of hearing. 'R-u-a-r-a-i-d-h and O-r-f-h-l-a-i-t-h,' s he told m e. 'E as y-peas y! ' I s tood with S is ter Marie-T heres e in the entranc e hall at the end of the m orning. 'W ell thank you, S is ter,' I s aid. 'I s hall s end in m y report in a few days ' tim e, but everything appears to be fine. T he c hildren read extrem ely well, the writing is above average, the atm os phere in the s c hool is pos itive and the teac hing very good.' I looked in the direc tion of the dis play c abinet. 'A nd the dis play... is wonderful.' ' "How beautiful upon the m ountains are the feet of him who bringeth good tidings ," ' s aid the nun. My attention, however, had been c aught by the s c hool s ec retary s tanding in the doorway of the offic e. S he gave m e a vigorous thum bs -up s ign. 'I'm s orry, what did you s ay, S is ter?' 'Is aiah, Mr P hinn.' 'W ho?' 'From the B ible. Is aiah,' s aid the nun.' "How beautiful upon the m ountains are the feet of him who bringeth good tidings ." ' 'Y es , of c ours e, S is ter.' 'Now, that's m os t odd,' s aid the headm is tres s , res ting a s m all hand on m y arm . 'I think I am either going m ad or we have a ghos t.' 'A ghos t?' I repeated. 'W ell, I'm s ure I put a little c oloured balloon whic h one of the c hildren found on the beac h in W hitby in m y dis play and it's jus t dis appeared into thin air.' 'A balloon?' I s ounded like an ec ho. 'Don't you rec all s eeing a pink balloon in m y dis play this m orning?' as ked the nun with a puzzled expres s ion. 'No, S is ter,' I s aid firm ly, 'there was no balloon in your dis play. I would have rem em bered. No, no, there was definitely no balloon.'

2 I was s till s m iling later that afternoon as I began to draft the report on Our Lady of Lourdes . T he offic e was unus ually peac eful for that tim e of day, for m y three c olleagues , with whom I s hared the c ram ped and c luttered room , had not yet returned from their s c hool vis its . I was grateful for a bit of peac e and quiet. T here would be prec ious little of it when S idney and David arrived. S idney Clam p, the larger-than-life ins pec tor for Creative and V is ual A rts , and David P ritc hard, the Mathem atic s , P E and Gam es ins pec tor who c ould talk for W ales (and frequently did), were witty, warm , c lever and generous people but it was quite im pos s ible to c onc entrate on anything if they were together in the offic e. T hey had worked together for m any years and were good friends , but when they s tarted bounc ing ins ults off eac h other, s c oring points , bem oaning, arguing, philos ophis ing and regaling anyone within ears hot with anec dotes and opinions , nothing c ould be done. S idney and David were like a c om edy duo. T he final m em ber of our team , who put us to s ham e with her razor-s harp intelligenc e, s uperhum an effic ienc y and the tidines s of her des k, was Dr Geraldine Mullarkey, in c harge of S c ienc e and Tec hnology. Gerry liked to keep hers elf to hers elf and s pent as little tim e as pos s ible in the offic e. S he was a s ingle parent with a young c hild and tended to hide hers elf away at the S taff Developm ent Centre at lunc htim es to write her reports and letters , and c atc h up with all the other paper work at hom e in the evenings . Down the c orridor was our team leader, Dr Harold Yeats , the S enior Ins pec tor, and next to his room was the s m all offic e where J ulie, our s ec retary, pres ided. I turned bac k to m y report and read m y firs t s entenc e: 'T he s c hool is a bright, welc om ing and c heerful building, enhanc ed by interes ting and c olourful dis plays .' Im m ediately m y m ind went bac k to the m orning's dram a and I wondered again jus t what B is hop Mic hael would have s aid and done if he had c aught s ight of the c ondom nes tling am ongs t the dis play whic h S is ter Marie-T heres e m os t s urely would have s hown him as s he had m e. It would probably have s et his m itre as kew. I threw bac k m y head and began to laugh out loud. A voic e interrupted m y reverie. 'S om eone's in a good m ood.' J ulie tottered in, c radling a large m ug of c offee in her hands . I watc hed her as s he c arefully s et down the m ug in front of m e and then perc hed on the end of m y des k. S he looked as if s he was off to a dis c o in her bright red top, inc redibly s hort, tight-fitting blac k s kirt, long, dangling m etallic earrings and the ridic ulous ly high-heeled patent leather s hoes s he was s o fond of wearing. J ulie, with her bubbly blonde hair, c heerful good hum our and inc es s ant c hatter, was guaranteed to brighten up the dulles t of days . S he had left s c hool at s ixteen with few qualific ations and had s ec ured a pos ition in the pos t room at County Hall doing general and largely undem anding jobs : franking letters , filing, photoc opying, taking m es s ages . T hen, when a flu epidem ic had hit County Hall and half the anc illary s taff had been off ill, J ulie had been dragooned in tem porarily to m an the telephones and take on s om e extra duties . T hat was when s he had c om e to the attention of Harold Yeats . Harold had been greatly im pres s ed by the young wom an's verve, energy and c heerful good nature, and by her willingnes s to tac kle whatever c am e her way. S he was funny, forthright and s trong-m inded. J us t the s ort of pers on, Harold had thought, to c ope with the s c hool ins pec tors who were reputedly not the eas ies t of people with whom to work. T his was a c ouple of years before I had c om e to County Hall and the ins pec tors ' s ec retary at the tim e, I had been told, was the rather s erious and nervous Mis s - 'a m artyr to m y joints ' - P ruitt. S he was due to retire (and not before tim e from what m y c olleagues in the offic e had s aid) and Harold had pers uaded Dr Gore, the Chief E duc ation Offic er, to as s ign J ulie to our offic e as the c leric al as s is tant to learn the ropes . J ulie had enrolled on a s ec retarial c ours e, s urpris ed everyone, inc luding hers elf, by ac hieving high grades and when Mis s P ruitt had retired s he had s tepped into her s hoes , m etaphoric ally s peaking, of c ours e. T here was no pos s ibility whats oever of J ulie ever wearing a pair of Mis s P 's s ens ible c ourt s hoes . S he was m uc h m ore at hom e in her red s tilettos . Not only was J ulie c heerful, hard working and effic ient, s he was als o extrem ely loyal and highly dis c reet. Nothing s he read in the s c hool reports s he had to type, or anything s he heard c onfided over the telephone, ever went outs ide the offic e. Her telephone m anner s om etim es left a little to be des ired - s he c ould be as blunt as a s ledgeham m er but we all thought the world of J ulie and valued the work s he did. 'S o c om e on, then,' s he s aid now, res ting her hands behind her on the des k and leaning bac k like a m odel pos ing for a photograph. 'W hat's tic kled you?' W hen I had told her the s aga of the nun and the c ondom s he looked at m e quizzic ally. S he c learly did not feel it was quite as funny as I. 'Y ou would have thought, in this day and age, s he'd have known what a c ondom was .' 'J ulie, s he's a nun, for goodnes s s ake! ' I exc laim ed. 'W hen would a nun c om e ac ros s a c ondom ?' 'I thought everybody knew what one was . You c an't get away from them . I m ean, m y little nephew, K enny, is only nine and he knows what one is . I overheard him and his friend las t week in the garden. T he other little boy was telling our K enny that he'd found a c ondom on the patio. Our K enny as ked him what a "patio" was . I s uppos e it's all this s ex educ ation at s c hool. W e were never told anything.' S he s tood up and s traightened her s kirt. 'W e were very naive.' T hat, I thought to m ys elf, was a trifle diffic ult to believe. 'W e had to find out the fac ts of life in the c orner of the playground and then m os t of what we learnt was n't true. W e thought you got babies through kis s ing. W hat are you s taring at?' 'Nothing,' I c huc kled. 'Y ou s ee, J ulie, nuns are very innoc ent and unworldly. T hey're not like other people.' 'W ell, that S is ter B rendan at S t B artholom ew's is about as innoc ent and unworldly as A l Capone. I bet s he knows what a c ondom is .' 'Yes , I think S is ter B rendan would, but s he's a rather different kettle of fis h. S he's worked in the s lum s of S outh A m eric a and the inner c ities and has s een m ore of life than m os t of us . I have an idea the nun at Our Lady of Lourdes has s pent all of her c hildhood in rural Ireland and all her adult life in a c onvent, s o s he is s till one of life's innoc ents . Her lac k of worldly knowledge is quite endearing.' 'I onc e went as a nun to a fanc y dres s party,' J ulie told m e. 'B ut that long habit got in the way.' 'Got in the way of what?' I as ked, dreading what s he m ight ans wer. 'My danc ing. I had to take it off in the end. It was really hot as well and m ade m e itc h.' 'W ell, I s uppos e S is ter Marie-T heres e has got us ed to it by now,' I s aid. 'A nd I s houldn't im agine s he will be doing m uc h danc ing.' 'I c ouldn't be a nun,' s aid J ulie, exam ining her long nails . 'No,' I replied, looking at the vis ion in red and blac k, 'you c ouldn't. W ell, not in that outfit anyway.' 'W hat's wrong with this outfit?' 'Oh nothing. It looks ... er... very bec om ing.' 'It's m y power-dres s ing c om bination, if you m us t know. Red and blac k are s trong prim ary c olours , you s ee. I've jus t read this m agazine artic le all about it. T he c lothes you wear s ay a lot about you and the different c olours give off different m es s ages . Red warns of potential danger. B lac k m eans s trength. It s ays to people: "Don't you m es s with m e, m ate, or you'll get a s m ac k in the fac e." If you want to appear really nic e, you wear pas tel c olours , light browns and greens and pale yellows . I've not got any outfits like that.' S uc h an as s ertion really didn't hold water when one thought of the im pregnable Mrs Mc P hee in her tight-fitting wheat-c oloured turtlenec k s weater, heavy brown s kirt, dark woollen s toc kings and s ubs tantial s hoes . 'S o, why do you want to be power-dres s ed this afternoon?' I as ked. 'Is there s om ething s pec ial on?' 'Y es , there is , as a m atter of fac t. I need to be as s ertive when I m eet Lady Mac beth s hortly.' 'Mrs S avage,' I s ighed. 'T he very s am e.' Mrs B renda S avage, P ers onal A s s is tant to Dr Gore, was the bane of J ulie's , the ins pec tors ' and m os t other people's lives . S he was a s trikingly elegant looking wom an of an indeterm inate age but c ould be extrem ely pric kly and unpredic table, and had her long nails in every pie around. W e all felt s he had been prom oted way beyond her intelligenc e and c apabilities . Mrs S avage had a fears om e reputation, an ac erbic m anner, and c ould c urdle m ilk with one of her s our s tares . 'W hy are you s eeing Mrs S avage?' I as ked. 'W e've got a m eeting on "Health and S afety in the W ork-plac e" and s he's been put in c harge. Goodnes s knows why. S he's a danger to everyone's health, the s tres s s he c aus es . A nyway, no s ooner has s he been given the job, but s he's produc ed this s et of wretc hed guidelines and all the offic e and anc illary s taff are going to have to s it and lis ten to her giving us one of her endles s lec tures . S he's only been on a one-day c ours e, for goodnes s s ake, and now s he thinks s he knows everything there is to know about health and s afety in the workplac e. It'll be the s c hool ins pec tors ' turn next, s o you c an take that c hees y s m ile off your fac e. S he s ounds like Mus s olini in knic kers when s he gets s tarted, s tic king out her c hin, s tabbing the air with thos e s harp witc h's nails and laying down the law. A nyway, I m us t be off. T he m eeting will have s tarted. I'm going to m ake a dram atic entranc e and I'm determ ined to be really as s ertive. S he's not treating m e like s om ething s he's dis c overed on the s ole of her des igner s hoes .' 'I'm s urpris ed you're not in c om bat trous ers and arm y boots ,' I told her, s till s m iling. 'Y ou s ound m ore aggres s ive than as s ertive.' 'W ell, that wom an brings out the wors t in m e, s he really does ,' s aid J ulie. 'W hen you've finis hed that report, pop it on m y des k and I'll get on with it tom orrow. Oh, and you've had a lot of telephone c alls , and I m ean a lot. A ll the details are on the pad in m y offic e. Mos tly from people you know but there was a c all from a really loud m an, nearly deafened m e s houting down the phone, wanting to s peak to you urgently but he wouldn't leave his nam e or num ber. S aid he'd c all bac k. S ee you tom orrow.' W ith that J ulie tottered for the door. I returned to the report. 'T he s c hool is a bright, welc om ing and c heerful building, enhanc ed by interes ting and c olourful dis plays ,' I re-read but got no further. T he s ound of argum entative voic es wafting up from the bottom of the s tairs s ignalled the im m inent arrival of two of m y c olleagues . I threw down m y pen. A m om ent later S idney breezed in followed by David. You would be hard pres s ed to find two people s o entirely different in appearanc e: the one a burly, bearded figure with a thic k head of woolly hair, rather like a friendly old lion, the other a s m all, dark-c om plexioned m an with a c los e-s haven fac e and blac k eyebrows whic h s eem ed to fly outwards like wings . A s us ual, they were in the m iddle of an anim ated dis c us s ion. 'I m ight have predic ted that you would take a c ontrary view,' S idney was s aying irritably. He dropped his briefc as e on the neares t des k, flopped in a c hair and leaned bac k. 'Good after-noon, Gervas e. David is being pervers e again.' 'Good afternoon,' I s aid. 'Y es , good afternoon, Gervas e,' s aid David, hanging up his c oat. 'I am not taking a c ontrary view, S idney. I have a great deal of s ym pathy with what you s ay. I am m erely attem pting to put things into s om e s ort of pers pec tive.' 'A bout what?' I as ked. 'A bout art, what els e?' s ighed David, s ettling behind his des k. He turned his attention to m e. 'He's m iffed bec aus e the headm as ter of W es t Challerton High S c hool has dec ided to reduc e the am ount of tim e on the c urric ulum for c reative and vis ual arts .' 'I hardly think "m iffed" is the m os t appropriate des c ription,' s aid S idney angrily. ' "Irate", "inc ens ed", "enraged", "furious ", m ight be m ore fitting to des c ribe how I feel, but hardly "m iffed".' S idney s wivelled around in his c hair to fac e m e. 'I arrived at W es t Challerton to find that ins ufferable new headm as ter Mr doublebarrelled S m ith outrageous ly rude and dis m is s ive. He kept m e waiting for half an hour and then s aid he c ould only s pare m e a few m inutes . I then dis c over, when I s peak to the head of the A rt and Des ign Departm ent, that Mr double-barrelled S m ith has c as trated c reative and vis ual arts to give m ore tim e to m athem atic s and s c ienc e! ' 'He's a great one for c hanges is Mr P ennington-S m ith,' I s aid. I rec alled when the m an in ques tion had bec om e headm as ter the previous year. One of his firs t innovations had been to produc e a s howy s c hool broc hure pac ked with glos s y c olour photographs , am bitious aim s and long lis ts of exam ination s uc c es s es and s porting ac hievem ents . His predec es s or, Mr B lunt ('B lunt by nam e and blunt by nature') had not been one for anything fanc y but he ran a very good s c hool. A great m any c hanges took plac e at W es t Challerton when Mr P ennington-S m ith arrived and few had been for the better. 'T he m an is a philis tine and a poltroon,' s aid S idney. His voic e was now s queaky and petulant, like a c hild who is s uddenly forbidden an ic e-c ream . 'He is the Dr Goebbels of the educ ational world.' 'W hat's Dr Goebbels got to do with it?' as ked David. 'It was Goebbels who s aid: "W hen I hear the word c ulture, I reac h for m y gun." If I had had a gun I would have reac hed for it when he dropped the bom bs hell. T he headm as ter of W es t Challerton High S c hool is the s elf-opinionated, pros aic and c ultureles s Dr Goebbels of the educ ational world, and the s avaging of the c reative and vis ual arts is quite frankly s c andalous .' 'I take it you had a run in with Mr P ennington-S m ith?' I obs erved. 'S om ething of an unders tatem ent, Gervas e,' S idney told m e angrily. 'A s I s aid, I vis ited W es t Challerton this afternoon on a routine vis it to look at the A rt and Des ign Departm ent to find the headm as ter had "realigned his priorities ", as he put it, for this ac adem ic year. I felt like "realigning his priorities ", I c an tell you! No c ons ultation with the head of departm ent or m ys elf. He jus t m ade "an exec utive dec is ion" as he term ed it. W hen I dem anded to s ee him at the end of the afternoon, do you know what he s aid?' 'No,' I replied, 'but I c an hazard a gues s .' 'He s aid he had no tim e to dis c us s it with m e and, in any c as e, it had been dec ided. None of the m ore able pupils would be s tudying art in the future and the res t, the les s ac adem ic , would only have two periods a week. T wo periods , I as k you! He then had the bras s nec k to tell m e that, in his c ons idered opinion, art dec orated the m argins of the m ore s erious bus ines s of s tudy, that it was not a proper ac adem ic dis c ipline anyway and that it had very little relevanc e in the m odern world of s c ienc e and tec hnology. I'm jus t bereft of words . S peec hles s .' 'W ell, there's a firs t! ' rem arked David, rem oving his s pec tac les and polis hing them with the end of his tie. 'Don't you think you are rather over-reac ting, S idney?' I s aid. 'Y ou m ake it s ound as if A rm ageddon is on us .' S idney s lam m ed his fis t on his des k. 'No, I am not over-reac ting, as you put it. How would you feel if E nglis h were des c ribed as "dec orating the m argins of the m ore s erious bus ines s of s tudy" and reduc ed to a m ere two periods a week?' 'B ut E nglis h, like m athem atic s , is a c ore s ubjec t,' I s aid. 'T here is a differenc e.' 'S o E nglis h and m aths are m ore im portant? W ell, I c an s ee I'm to get prec ious little s upport from m y c olleagues ,' blus tered S idney, ris ing from his c hair. 'W e will s ee what Harold has to s ay about it.' 'Leave the poor m an alone,' s aid David. 'Y ou know how bus y he is at the m om ent.' 'Not at all! ' s aid S idney, heading for the door. 'I s hall have a few well-c hos en words to s ay to Harold, I c an tell you.' 'A nd what will they be?' I as ked. 'I don't know. I haven't c hos en them yet,' replied S idney, m aking a grand exit. 'Y ou get wors e, S idney,' I s houted after him . W ith S idney's dram atic departure, peac e des c ended on the offic e. W hen the c loc k on the County Hall tower s truc k s ix o'c loc k, I s urveyed m y em pty des k with great s atis fac tion. T he report on Our Lady of Lourdes S c hool was finis hed and ready for J ulie to type up, the batc h of letters I had rec eived that day had all been ans wered, the ques tionnaire from the Minis try of E duc ation on boys ' under-ac hievem ent in E nglis h had been c om pleted and I had even m ade a good s tart at planning next m onth's E nglis h c ours e. I had m anaged to deal with all the telephone m es s ages s ave for the one from the very loud individual who wis hed to s peak to m e urgently but who had not left a num ber. I s at bac k in m y c hair and s ighed with c ontentm ent. Life was good. 'Y ou appear rem arkably pleas ed with yours elf,' s aid David, looking up and s taring over the top of his s pec tac les . 'Y ou look like the Ches hire c at that has got the c ream .' 'W ell, I am pretty pleas ed with m ys elf, if truth be told,' I replied. 'T his term has s tarted off really well. T he s c hool vis its have gone s m oothly and I have all m y paperwork under c ontrol.' 'W ell, long m ay it c ontinue,' s aid David, 'but be warned. In m y experienc e, there is always s om ething or s om ebody who m anages to s poil one's equilibrium when things s eem to be going really well. E verything appears to be perfec t and then dis as ter! You are c yc ling along a c ountry lane on a bright s um m er's day without a c are in the world. T he birds are s inging, the s un is s hining, the fres h wind is blowing through your hair and s uddenly s om ebody pus hes a thundering great s tic k through your s pokes and you're over the handlebars and flat on your fac e.' T his was one of David's favourite aphoris m s . 'A h, well,' I s aid s m iling, 'I think it is highly rem ote that anyone will pus h a s tic k though m y s pokes at the m om ent. Only one m ore s c hool vis it this week, and then a c onferenc e on Friday.' 'A nd where are you tom orrow?' as ked David. 'K ing Henry's College,' I replied. 'It's jus t a routine vis it. I s hould have been before now really but from what I've read about the s c hool, things in the E nglis h departm ent s eem to be fine.' 'A h, your firs t introduc tion to the A dm iral.' 'W ho?' 'Mr Nels on, the headm as ter. K nown as the A dm iral. Y ou know, Horatio Nels on.' 'Do I detec t a c ertain om inous tone to your voic e?' I as ked. 'Not at all,' s aid David. 'T he headm as ter of K ing Henry's is an am iable enough s ort of c hap, eas y going, a little c om plac ent perhaps . B ut try and get him to m ake a dec is ion, give an opinion or take a s tand on anything and you will wait until the proverbial c ows c om e hom e. He's the s ort of pers on who nails his c olours firm ly to the fenc e. He's all for a quiet life is Mr Nels on and, like his nam es ake, is a great one for turning a blind eye when it s uits him .' 'W ell, I c an't s ay he was over-keen on m y vis iting, that's for s ure,' I s aid. 'He didn't s ound partic ularly eas y going and c om plac ent to m e. I wrote inform ing him that I would be s pending a day with the E nglis h departm ent and he tried his hardes t to put m e off. I c an't think why bec aus e, as I explained to him , it's jus t a routine vis it, not part of a full ins pec tion. From the details I as ked him to s end, the E nglis h departm ent s eem s to be in a healthy s tate. T he exam ination res ults are good and -' 'S o they s hould be,' interrupted David. 'It's a highly s elec tive s c hool. You have to have a P hD to pas s the entranc e exam ination at K ing Henry's . If the teac hers c annot get good res ults from that c alibre of s tudent, they m ight as well pac k their bags and go hom e. A nd s peaking of going hom e, it's about tim e we m ade trac ks . I really don't want to be here when S idney returns . I c ouldn't bear another diatribe about Mr P ennington-S m ith and the s tate of the art at W es t Challerton High S c hool.' 'He did rather over-reac t, don't you think?' I s aid. 'Rus hing off to s ee Harold like that.' 'A h well, to be fair,' s aid David, 'there was rather m ore to it than jus t having the art reduc ed. E vidently P ennington-S m ith refus ed to dis c us s the s ituation and when S idney s aid he would m ake a return vis it to ins pec t the departm ent in a c ouple of weeks ' tim e, he told him it was pointles s and he need not bother. He virtually ordered him off the prem is es . I'm afraid that that partic ular headm as ter has to learn that he c annot jus t s uddenly c hange the c urric ulum on a whim . E very s tudent is entitled to a broad and balanc ed range of s ubjec ts . W hat's m ore, he c an't prevent s c hool ins pec tors from vis iting his s c hool. T he law s ays we have rights of entry. I think S idney is hoping Harold will c onvey this fac t to Mr P ennington-S m ith in no unc ertain term s .' 'Do you think he will?' I as ked. 'I'm s ure he will,' s aid David. 'A s you know, when Harold is rous ed it is not a pleas ant s ight.' 'I feel a bit guilty now, for being in s uc h a good m ood,' I s aid. 'I was n't the m os t s ym pathetic of lis teners .' 'Oh, S idney will get over it. He does tend to m ake a dram a out of things . I wonder where on earth he has got to? He has been gone for over two hours .' 'P robably s torm ed off in a huff,' I. s ugges ted. 'P oor S idney,' s aid David, s c rewing the top bac k on his pen. 'He does get into a s tate but it s oon blows over. W ell, I'm off hom e and if I don't s ee you tom orrow, Gervas e, enjoy your weekend with that lovely wife of yours . How is Chris tine inc identally?' 'S he's fine,' I told him . 'Y ou are a very luc ky m an, Gervas e,' s aid David, ris ing from his c hair and s tretc hing. 'Y es , I know,' I replied. A s I drove hom e, I pondered on David's words . Yes , I was indeed a very luc ky m an. T he E as ter before, on a bright, c loudles s s pring m orning, I had m arried the m os t beautiful, talented and gentle wom an in the world, Mis s Chris tine B entley, headteac her of W innery Nook Nurs ery and Infant S c hool. I had m et her a few weeks after s tarting in m y pos t as c ounty E nglis h ins pec tor and for m e it had been love at firs t s ight. W e had honeym ooned in the Lake Dis tric t and had returned to our dream y P eewit Cottage in the village of Hawks rill in the Dales . T he dream c ottage, in fac t, had wood-worm , dry rot, ris ing dam p, c rac ked walls , broken guttering and nearly every c onc eivable problem but we had fallen in love with the m agnific ent views and after s pending m os t of our s pare tim e renovating and refurbis hing, it was beginning to take s hape. A t the end of the previous s um m er term Chris tine had told m e the m os t wonderful news - that I was to be a father the following s pring. S o everything in the world s eem ed right: hom e, fam ily, friends and job. I was c yc ling along that c ountry lane of David's on a bright s um m er's day without a c are in the world. T he birds were s inging, the s un was s hining, the fres h wind was blowing through m y hair and nothing and nobody c ould pos s ibly s poil the s ens e of elation I felt. Little did I know that there was s om eone lurking in the bus hes ready to pus h the thundering great s tic k through m y s pokes .

3 T he fros ted glas s at the rec eption des k at K ing Henry's College s lid bac k s harply and I was c onfronted by a tall, thin, hawk-fac ed s c hool s ec retary with s m all, c old blue eyes behind unfas hionable horn-rim m ed s pec tac les . S he gave m e a s tony s tare. T he feeling of pleas ant antic ipation I had felt as I had s trolled up the long drive to the im pos ing s c hool building im m ediately dis s ipated. 'W ould you m ind not tapping on the glas s ,' s he told m e in a s uperior voic e. 'T here is a buzzer, you know.' 'W here?' I enquired innoc ently, giving her an exaggerated s m ile and looking into the pale blue eyes . S he poked her head through the hatc h like a tortois e em erging from its s hell, and tutted nois ily. 'T he buzzer is under thos e regis ters , whic h s hould not have been left there,' s he announc ed, giving m e an ac c us atory glare as though I were the c ulprit. S he s natc hed up the regis ters and pulled them through the window and into the offic e. T here was a great in-drawing of breath. 'T he num ber of tim es I tell the s tudents not to leave the regis ters there,' s he s aid to no one in partic ular. 'I m ight jus t as well talk to m ys elf for all the notic e they take.' I c ontinued to s m ile and await the apology but it s oon bec am e apparent that none would be forthc om ing. 'Now,' s he s aid, 'm ay I help you?' Her fac e rem ained dram atic ally tight-lipped and s tern, and her voic e retained its weary c ondes c ens ion. 'I hope s o,' I s aid pleas antly. 'I have an appointm ent.' 'W ith whom ?' 'T he headm as ter.' S he began flic king through a large blac k book. 'A t what tim e?' 'A t a quarter to nine.' S he glanc ed up at the c loc k on the offic e wall. 'Y ou're rather early.' 'I often am .' S he c ontinued to turn the pages . 'A nd you are?' I pas s ed through the brown envelope that I had rec eived from the s c hool the week before. It was addres s ed to: 'Mr Gervas e R. P his s , Ins pec tor of S c hools , T he Ins pec tors ' Divis ion, E duc ation Offic e, County Hall, Fettles ham , Yorks hire.' Had m y welc om e been rather warm er, I would have pointed out that the nam e was P hinn and not P his s , but after the rec eption I had jus t rec eived, I did not feel quite s o c haritable, s o I s aid nothing. Having s c rutinis ed the envelope, the s ec retary's m anner c hanged ins tantly. 'Oh, oh, yes , the s c hool ins pec tor.' S he allowed hers elf a s m all, thin-lipped s m ile. 'I'm s o s orry, I thought you were a parent or a book s ales m an. It's always very hec tic here. I never s eem to have a m inute to m ys elf. It's like E us ton S tation at rus h hour. Do pleas e take a s eat in the waiting-room , Mr P his s . I s hall inform Mr Nels on that you have arrived.' In the s m all room a rather haras s ed-looking wom an with wis py greying hair s at s traight-bac ked with her hands c las ped tightly together on her lap. W ith her was an equally haras s ed-looking boy of about eleven. T hey both s hifted uneas ily on their c hairs . T he boy, who had a pale fac e, looked up when he s aw m e approac hing and began twiddling his hair nervous ly. T he wom an s tood and extended a hand. 'Mr Nels on?' 'No, no,' I replied, 'I'm not the headm as ter. I'm jus t a vis itor.' 'Oh, I'm s orry, I thought you were Mr Nels on.' S he s at down and s wept away a s tray s trand of hair from her fac e. 'Nerve-rac king, is n't it?' s he s aid. 'W hat is ?' I as ked, s itting next to her. 'Meeting the headm as ter. I know I s houldn't get into this s tate but I always have had a dread of headteac hers ' offic es . It brings bac k unhappy m em ories .' I s m iled. 'W e've an appointm ent at nine. It's J ohn's firs t day, you s ee.' S he turned to the boy and gave a weak s m ile. 'He s hould have s tarted with all the other boys las t week but he's jus t got over glandular fever. He's a bit nervous , s o I thought I'd c om e along with him .' A boy of eleven is quite c apable of m aking his own way to s c hool, I thought to m ys elf, but I s aid nothing. 'He's worried that all the other boys will have m ade friends by now and he'll be left out.' S he lowered her voic e. 'A nd he's a bit on the s ens itive s ide.' 'Oh, I wouldn't worry too m uc h,' I as s ured the boy. 'Y ou'll s oon s ettle in and m ake friends .' 'I do hope s o.' T he wom an s ounded unc onvinc ed. 'He's got as thm a, as well, you know.' 'Really?' 'I wanted to s ee the headm as ter, to tell him . He's not the m os t c onfident c hild.' T he boy c ontinued to twiddle his hair. 'He's an only one. My hus band thinks I'm a bit over-protec tive, to be hones t.' Her hus band was right. 'W e arrived early jus t to be on the s afe s ide. You s ee, we had to c atc h two bus es . I thought I'd c om e with him on his firs t day. S how him how to get here and m ake s ure he's all right.' 'Y ou'll be fine, J ohn,' I told the boy. T he boy pulled a tragic fac e but: rem ained res olutely s ilent. His m other prodded him . 'S it up, J ohn, and s top fiddling with your hair, for goodnes s s ake. If you do that in front of Mr Nels on, he won't be very im pres s ed.' S he turned her attention bac k to m e. 'Of c ours e, he did very well to get in at K ing Henry's . V ery good res ults . E xc ellent s porting fac ilities . Mus ic 's very good too. T here's a waiting lis t as long as m y arm for plac es .' S he began wringing her hands . 'Y es , it's a very good s c hool.' T he boy looked up glum ly. 'T here were only three in his prim ary s c hool who pas s ed the entranc e exam ination, you know.' 'Good,' I s aid to the boy. 'W ell done.' T he boy c ontinued to s tare into the m iddle dis tanc e, a glum expres s ion on his fac e. 'He had a private tutor,' his m other told m e. 'Cos t an arm and a leg, but you do the bes t you c an, don't you?' 'A re you looking forward to s tarting, J ohn?' I as ked the boy. 'It's the bes t s c hool in the area,' the wom an told m e proudly before the boy c ould reply. I would res erve m y judgem ent on that one, I thought to m ys elf. If the ic y rec eption was anything to go by, things did not bode well. I had vis ited m any s c hools during the relatively s hort tim e I had been a s c hool ins pec tor and was always intrigued and often am us ed by the rec eption I rec eived. On s om e oc c as ions I would be welc om ed like a long los t relative, all s m iles and hands hakes , at other tim es it was as if the Ges tapo had turned up. On one oc c as ion I was m is taken for a Mr Davies . T he headteac her had been devas tated to learn that I was a s c hool ins pec tor, there to look at les s ons and not the plum ber to fix the s m ell in the boys ' lavatories . Us ually the s c hool s ec retary greeted m e with c ourtes y and good hum our. It was rare, however, to be addres s ed with s uc h polar hos tility as I had been that m orning. T he c old blue eyes of the s c hool s ec retary at K ing Henry's c ould freeze s oup in kitc hen pans . T he wom an in ques tion appeared before m e. Her m anner was dis tinc tly different now. 'Mr P his s ,' s he s aid, allowing hers elf another thin-lipped s m ile, 'the headm as ter will s ee you, if you would c are to follow m e.' S he ignored the wom an and her s on who looked up expec tantly on her arrival. 'Good luc k,' I s aid to the boy, getting to m y feet. 'S ay thank you to the m an,' prom pted his m other. He s tared up m oros ely and s hrugged. T he s ec retary s trode ahead of m e, her heels c lic king on the hard floor. T here was the s am e s m ell in the air I rec alled from m y s c hool days : s tale c abbage, dis infec tant and floor polis h. T here was the s am e long, c old c orridor I rem em bered too, the wooden bloc k floor, the high c eilings , the quadrangle, the heavy oak doors to the c las s room s . It was like going bac k in tim e. A t the s c hool s ec retary's approac h the hubbub of nois e in the c orridors s ubs ided and the pupils opened their c rowded ranks to allow her to s weep through. 'It's a m os t unus ual nam e, P his s ,' s he s aid over her s houlder. 'Y es ,' I replied. 'Is it foreign?' 'A c tually -' I began, about to enlighten her. 'I c an't s ay I've ever heard the nam e P his s before,' s he c ontinued. 'W e have a boy here c alled P hipps , a P hillips , and another c alled P hillpots . Oh yes , and there's a P hillim ore, but I have never heard the nam e P his s .' 'It's Frenc h Huguenot,' I told her, keeping a s traight fac e. 'Really?' 'My anc es tors c am e over with the weavers in the s eventeenth c entury after s evere pers ec ution at the hands of Henry of Navarre. My m other's s till not quite got over it.' 'Oh, I am s orry,' s he s aid, in a m atter-of-fac t voic e. 'A c tually, it's not pronounc ed P his s .' 'Is it not?' 'No,' I s aid m is c hievous ly, 'it has a s ilent "aitc h".' W e arrived at the headm as ter's s tudy. Mr Nels on ros e from his des k to greet m e. 'Headm as ter,' s aid the s c hool s ec retary, her fac e as s olem n as ever. 'T his is the ins pec tor of s c hools , Mr... er... P ic e.' Mr Nels on was a gaunt, m iddle-aged m an with grizzled grey hair and a pained expres s ion. A blac k ac adem ic gown, with long dangling s leeves , enveloped his lean fram e, giving him the appearanc e of a giant s pider. T hrough s m all, rim les s s pec tac les he s urveyed m e c ritic ally like a doc tor m ight a patient, before extending a long, c old hand. 'Mr... er...' he began. 'P hinn,' I s aid. 'T here was a m is s pelling on your letter.' 'Y ou m ight have s aid! ' s napped the s c hool s ec retary, her fac e white with dis pleas ure and a fierc e light in the s m all blue eyes . 'T hank you, Mrs W interton,' s aid Mr Nels on with elaborate c ourtes y. T he s c hool s ec retary had not rem ained for his ins truc tion to depart and was already heading for the door at high s peed, tut-tutting as s he went. W hen s he had gone the headm as ter s at down, tapped his long fingers edgily on the des k and c onfided in a low voic e, 'Mrs W interton c an be a trifle s harp at tim es , but s he is quite indis pens able. W orth her weight in the proverbial.' More like a pain in the proverbial, I thought to m ys elf. 'I'm s ure s he is ,' I replied. 'I did try and tell her that there was a m is print on the letter.' T he headm as ter s tared at m e blankly. ' "P his s " ins tead of "P hinn",' I elaborated. 'Quite. I have m entioned about her typing,' s aid the headm as ter, 'but s he c an be very touc hy.' 'Y es , I'm s ure s he c an.' 'W ell, Mr P hinn, do take a s eat.' He indic ated an unc om fortable-looking, ladderbac k c hair plac ed to the front of his des k. 'S o, you are to s pend a day in the s c hool ins pec ting the E nglis h Departm ent?' 'Y es , that's right,' I replied. T he headm as ter rais ed his head s lowly, rubbed his c hin and s ighed. He res em bled a wounded adm iral watc hing the return of his defeated fleet. 'Not the bes t tim e, I have to s ay, the beginning of term , for a s c hool ins pec tion, when things are es pec ially bus y. I did point this out in m y reply to you when you inform ed m e of this propos ed vis itation. No, not the bes t tim e at all. T he new s c hool year has barely s tarted, teac hers are jus t bec om ing ac quainted with their c las s es , getting to grips with the tim etables , s orting out their room s , et c etera. Indeed, I have an exc eptionally bus y day ahead of m e with a Managem ent m eeting and then the Governors ' Financ e S ub-c om m ittee and num erous other pres s ing c om m itm ents . T his m orning I have to s ee s everal parents , inc luding one who is c ontes ting our dec is ion not to ac c ept his s on at the s c hool. A ll very trying. A s you will no doubt be aware, we are very heavily overs ubs c ribed here at K ing Henry's . A nd it's s uc h a tedious and tim e-c ons um ing bus ines s this interviewing, and is not without its s tres s es .' He paus ed. 'B ut, of c ours e, the E duc ation Departm ent, in its infinite wis dom , does ins is t on thes e appeals being heard.' I felt it politic not to enter this partic ular debate and rem ained s ilent. 'S o, as I s aid, Mr P hinn, your vis it has c om e at a m os t inc onvenient tim e.' I looked direc tly at him and he returned m y gaze. 'I s hould im agine there is never a c onvenient tim e for a s c hool ins pec tion, Mr Nels on,' I told him am iably. 'A s I explained in m y letter, however, I do have a very bus y program m e of vis its to s c hools this term and I m us t s tart s om ewhere. K ing Henry's is high on m y lis t.' 'High on your lis t,' repeated the headm as ter, twis ting his m outh to one s ide and c oc king his head. 'My goodnes s ! T hat does s ound om inous .' 'Not at all,' I as s ured him , 'it's jus t a s hort day's vis it to look at the E nglis h teac hing in the s c hool. A c c ording to m y rec ords , it's been quite s om e tim e s inc e you have had an ins pec tor in the E nglis h Departm ent. Indeed, I have not been in the s c hool before and I have been working for the E duc ation Departm ent for three years . I thought it high tim e that I paid you a vis it. A s you are aware, the las t ins pec tion was c arried out by m y predec es s or, Mrs Y oung, s hortly before I s tarted.' He looked at m e s c eptic ally. 'It is quite routine. I am s ure everything will be fine.' Mr Nels on took a s low, deep breath. His fac e was noble in its pallor. 'I did s ay in m y letter to you, Mr P hinn, that I would have preferred a m ore s uitable tim e.' He s at in thoughtful s ilenc e for a m om ent, drum m ing his long fingers on the des k top, no doubt awaiting a res pons e. P erhaps he expec ted m e to agree with him , arrange a vis it for a future date and depart forthwith. W hen I rem ained firm ly tight-lipped, he nodded and c ontinued, his voic e hardening a frac tion. 'W ell, if you are to join us for the day, I am s ure you will find things in order. A s you will have s urm is ed from the details you as ked m e to s end to you, our exam ination res ults are outs tanding.' T hey were c ertainly good, I thought, but not outs tanding. T he girls ' high s c hool ac hieved m uc h better res ults . A nyway, K ing Henry's was a gram m ar s c hool for whic h only the brightes t pupils in the area were s elec ted by exam ination and pers onal interview. A s David had rightly pointed out to m e, the s c hool s hould indeed attain good res ults . 'A nd I have to s ay,' c ontinued the headm as ter, 'Mr Frobis her, the head of the E nglis h Fac ulty, is not entirely enthus ias tic about the vis it. You will find him a s om ewhat form al and traditional teac her, one of the "old s c hool", and he does have his s hare of -' T here was a s harp knoc k on the door, interrupting the flow. 'A h, that m us t be him now. I as ked him to join us before les s ons c om m enc e. Com e! ' Mr Frobis her bore an unnerving res em blanc e to the headm as ter. He was als o a lean, s allow-c om plexioned m an with heavy-lidded eyes and a pained expres s ion. T he only differenc e was the hair. W hereas Mr Nels on's was grizzled, Mr Frobis her's hair was s traight and blac k and c arefully parted down one s ide. He too wore rim les s s pec tac les and a c apac ious blac k gown. 'Good m orning,' he intoned, giving m e a c alc ulating s tare. Oh dear, oh dear, I thought to m ys elf, another c hilly rec eption. I took a deep breath, s tood and s m iled. 'Good m orning.' 'T his is Mr P hinn,' the headm as ter told him . 'T he s c hool ins pec tor.' 'I thought it was Mr Fis h.' 'T here was a m is print on the letter,' explained the headm as ter. 'Mrs W interton again, I'm afraid.' 'Oh,' s aid the head of E nglis h. 'W ell, I have to s ay, today is a very inopportune tim e for your vis it, Mr P hinn.' 'T he headm as ter has pointed this out to m e, Mr Frobis her,' I explained, not wis hing to rehears e the whole c onvers ation again. 'I apprec iate that the beginning of term is not the bes t of tim es , but I do have a heavy s c hedule of vis its over the next few weeks .' B efore he c ould ans wer I looked theatric ally at m y watc h and c ontinued. 'I s ee the les s ons are about to begin. P erhaps we s hould m ake a s tart?' My attem pt to c hange the s ubjec t fell on s tony ground for Mr Frobis her c ontinued regardles s . 'T he beginning of term is always rather fraught and T hurs day is always an inc onvenient day for m e for I am on c orridor patrol at m orning and afternoon breaks , I s upervis e a detention at lunc h-tim e and I am on bus duty after s c hool.' He looked at m e as if antic ipating a reply. 'S o -' I s tood firm . 'I would s till like to s tay,' I told him . 'P erhaps we c ould m ake a s tart?' 'V ery well,' s aid Mr Frobis her loftily, glanc ing in the direc tion of the headm as ter, as if to enlis t his s upport, before turning his attention bac k to m e. 'I trus t you rec eived the various details you reques ted - exam ination res ults , s c hem es of work, s yllabus es , s taffing c om plem ent, et c etera. I hope the program m e I have devis ed for you to follow is ac c eptable.' He did not await an ans wer. 'I think you are to s tart with Mr P oppleton, the s ec ond-in-c harge of the departm ent, and his fifth year form .' 'I did rec eive them , thank you, Mr Frobis her,' I replied am ic ably, 'but I have planned a program m e for the day. I do prefer to work from one of m y own.' 'One of your own?' he repeated, bris tling like an angry c at. 'Y ou m ean you roam freely between c las s es ?' 'Y es , that is the us ual prac tic e. I try to vis it all the teac hers and s ee as wide a range of les s ons as pos s ible, taking the opportunity of talking to the s tudents and looking at their work.' 'W ell, it s eem s quite irregular to m e. Do you m ean the teac hers will not know when you are vis iting their les s ons to obs erve them ?' He turned again to fac e the headm as ter, obvious ly hoping this tim e he would c om e to his defenc e. W hen this was not forthc om ing, he s wivelled bac k to fac e m e. 'I generally s tart with the head of departm ent,' I s aid. 'I notic ed you did not inc lude yours elf on the program m e you s ent m e, Mr Frobis her.' 'S urely, you do not wis h to s ee me teac h?' He looked appalled. 'I am the head of fac ulty.' 'Y es , I am aware of that,' I s aid pleas antly. T he headm as ter s ighed wearily. 'I really m us t as k you gentlem en to exc us e m e. I have a waiting-room full of expec tant parents to s ee m e. Mr Frobis her, if you wouldn't m ind s howing our vis itor where the E nglis h room s are. I look forward to s eeing you at the end of the day, Mr P hinn, for you to s hare your deliberations with us . A nd now if you wouldn't m ind.' * Mr Frobis her's c las s room had an uninterrupted view over the playing fields . It was a s pac ious and very warm room with a highly polis hed floor of patterned wooden bloc ks , long elegant s as h windows and a high c eiling with ornam ental plas ter c oving. A t the front of the room , on a dais , was a s turdy teac her's des k m ade of pine and a high-bac ked c hair, while at the s ide was a bookc as e c ontaining neatly s tac ked books and folders , a s et of dic tionaries and s om e referenc e texts . S ave for a few dog-eared and faded pos ters c onc erned with the rules of gram m ar, the walls were bare. T he s tudents ' des ks were of the s m all, lidded variety with holes for inkwells , entirely uns uitable for large adoles c ent boys . T he c las s of thirty or s o fourth-year s tudents , s om e in s m art blazers , a c ouple in white s hirts , s tood when we entered. 'S it down,' ordered the teac her, s weeping to his des k, gown a-fluttering. He s urveyed the c las s before him and his eyes s ettled on two gangly boys at the bac k. 'I was not aware, Lis ter, that I had given perm is s ion for the rem oval of blazers .' 'It's really hot in here, s ir,' replied the boy. 'Neither did I reques t a weather forec as t. Y ou know the s c hool rules as well as I. P ut on your blazer and that goes for you too, W ils don.' 'Can I open a window then, s ir?' pers is ted the boy. 'Y ou c an indeed open a window, Lis ter, but whether or not you may is an entirely different m atter.' 'W hat, s ir?' 'I s aid you c an open a window. Obvious ly m y les s on on the auxiliary verb las t term has had very little im pac t.' He pic ked up a s tic k of c halk and wrote the word CA N in c apitals on the board. 'T he word "c an" is an auxiliary verb expres s ing an ability or knowledge of how to do s om ething as in the s entenc e, "I c an throw this c halk." 'He twirled the c halk around between finger and thum b and s m iled at his own wittic is m . 'T he verb "m ay" is als o an auxiliary verb expres s ing the pos s ibility or the perm is s ion to do s om ething as in the s entenc e, "Y ou m ay open the window."' 'S o, c an I open it then, s ir?' as ked the boy, looking puzzled. 'No, you may not! ' s napped the teac her. 'Now, it will not have es c aped your notic e that we have with us a vis itor today. Mr P hinn is from the E duc ation Offic e and he will be joining our les s on.' He ges tured to an em pty c hair at the s ide of the room . 'Good m orning,' I s aid c heerfully, as I headed for the c hair.

'Good m orning, s ir,' c horus ed the boys . 'I was not im pres s ed, not im pres s ed at all with your hom ework this week,' s aid Mr Frobis her, reac hing for the neat pile of exerc is e books on his des k. 'T here was a great deal of inac c urate, untidy and s lip-s hod writing. A nd in s om e books we s eem to have had an epidem ic of the greengroc er's dis eas e. A pos trophes everywhere.' He flic ked open a book. 'I do not know how m any tim es I have told you that, in general, in the s ingular the apos trophe appears before the letter s , and in the plural after the letter s when the plural ends in the letter s and before the letter s when the plural does not end in the letter s . It is quite s im ple.' T he pupils obvious ly did not agree s inc e they were s taring at him , entirely perplexed. 'Rutter, here,' and Mr Frobis her held up an exerc is e book, 's c atters apos trophes ac ros s the page like pepperc orns . I don't know about you, Mr P hinn,' s aid the teac her, turning his attention to m e, 'but I find it s o irritating to s ee the flagrant m is us e of the E nglis h language wherever I go. One pas s es the loc al fruiterer who s ells "bananas " and "potatoes ", or the s uperm arket prom is ing "hundreds of produc ts " at half pric e, all with redundant apos trophes before the s .' A s he s poke, Mr Frobis her wrote the erroneous words on the board: banana's potatoe's 100's of produc ts 'I had a politic al leaflet through m y door only las t week,' he c ontinued, 'whic h wrote about rais ing s tandards in educ ation, but that als o, inc redibly, c ontained s uperfluous punc tuation. T here were phras es like "the loc al MP s are c onc erned" and "the Governm ent are keeping to its m anifes to", the latter c ontaining not only the errant apos trophe but a blatant m is applic ation of the verb.' Onto the board went: the loc al M P 's to it's manifes to T he teac her now pic ked up a red c halk from his des k and with flam boyant s trokes c ros s ed out the offending apos trophes on the board. He turned his attention bac k to the c las s . 'S om e people think that every tim e there is a letter s at the end of a word there needs to be an apos trophe.' He fac ed the s tudents who s tared at him with expres s ionles s fac es . 'A s you have heard m e s ay on c ountles s oc c as ions , defec tive punc tuation leads to c onfus ion. S o, the only us e of the apos trophe is to denote pos s es s ion or om is s ion. Now -' 'E xc us e m e, s ir.' T he s peaker was a gangly boy with lanky brown hair and angry ac ne ac ros s his forehead and c heeks . 'W hat about in this s entenc e: "T he word 'Mis s is s ippi' c ontains four i's and four s 's but only two p's ." S urely apos trophes are needed here, otherwis e the reader will be left very c onfus ed.' Mr Frobis her rem oved his glas s es and s tared heavenwards . 'Yes indeed, S m ith,' he replied. 'W hether the apos trophe s hould be us ed to denote the plural of a word that does not ordinarily m ake a plural depends on whether the plural is eas ily rec ognis able as s uc h. Unles s the reader needs as s is tanc e in unders tanding, whic h is the c as e with your exam ple, one s hould not us e the apos trophe. Now, we m us t get -' 'B ut didn't you jus t s ay, s ir, that the apos trophe is only us ed to denote pos s es s ion or om is s ion?' enquired the boy in an overly polite tone of voic e. T he teac her s ighed. I c ould s ee he wis hed he had never entered this m inefield. 'Y es , I did, but this is an exc eption. It is c learly jus tifiable with s ingle letters as in your Mis s is s ippi s entenc e, or in m ine, "W ell-behaved, polite and attentive s tudents watc h their p's and q's ." Does that c larify the m atter for you?' 'Oh yes , s ir,' replied the boy, s m iling. 'T hank you, s ir.' 'Now -' began the teac her again, replac ing his s pec tac les and fixing the boy with a rattles nake look. 'E xc us e m e, s ir.' 'Y es , S m ith, what is it now?' s ighed the teac her. 'In the s entenc e that you quoted, "T he Governm ent is keeping to its m anifes to", you s aid there is no apos trophe in the word "its ".' 'T hat is c orrec t,' s aid Mr Frobis her, taking off his glas s es again and pointing with them to the board. 'A ll pronouns dis pens e with the apos trophe in their pos s es s ive c as e - hers , yours , theirs , ours and its . It's with an apos trophe is not the pos s es s ive of "it" but a c ontrac tion of "it is ". T he apos trophe is perform ing its norm al duty of s howing that a letter has been om itted. Y ou s houldn't need to think twic e about thos e any m ore. Now -' 'W hat about the pronoun "one" then, s ir?' s aid the boy. 'S urely an apos trophe is needed in the s entenc e: "One is taking one's tim e in explaining ones elf."' T he teac her eyed the boy m om entarily, wondering if he were being im pertinent. 'T hat is the one exc eption,' he finally replied in a dis m is s ive m anner. 'It is all very c onfus ing, s ir,' s ighed the boy, leaning bac k on his c hair. 'T here s eem s o m any exc eptions to the rule.' 'It is a quite s im ple c onc ept, S m ith - that is if you lis ten and learn the rules .' 'Do you not think, s ir, that the apos trophe has jus t about had its day?' 'No, I do not! ' 'A nd that the greengroc er perhaps deliberately m is us es the apos trophe to draw attention to his fruit and vegetables .' 'No, I do not! It is jus t plain ignoranc e.' 'I don't s uppos e that in the great s c hem e of things , it's that im portant,' s aid the boy, turning to addres s the c las s as a whole. 'I don't im agine that people buy les s of the greengroc er's produc e bec aus e he dec ides to ins ert an apos trophe here and there. I s hould think it's the quality of his fruit and vegetables and the pric es that c ount with his c us tom ers .' 'It is im portant to m e, S m ith! ' s napped the teac her. 'A nd it is als o im portant to thos e who m ark your exam ination papers .' 'B ut is it not the c as e, s ir,' c ontinued the boy, 'that m any ins titutions , like B arc lays B ank, for exam ple, have dropped the apos trophe and this has not led to wholes ale c onfus ion?' 'W ell if B arc lays B ank has , S m ith,' the teac her told him in a dis paraging voic e, whic h expres s ed both im patienc e and anger, 'then it is wrong.' 'A nd is it not the c as e, s ir,' c ontinued the boy, s taring the teac her full in the fac e, not ins olently nor with the trac e of a s m ile, but with an intens e gaze, 'that in S hakes peare's tim e it was quite c om m on to find plural nouns with apos trophes ?' 'S m ith,' s aid the teac her, his forehead now unpleas antly s hining, 'm uc h as I would like to debate the rights and wrongs of us ing the apos trophe, we do have to pres s on.' T his rem arkable exc hange, s om ething whic h I had rarely obs erved in a c las s room before, was like a battle of wits between a c lever barris ter and a vulnerable defendant, the s tudent purs uing the teac her like a terrier with a rat, but doing s o in the m os t c ourteous of ways . Mr Frobis her was c learly dis c onc erted by the boy's c ons tant interruptions and his earlier s elf-as s uranc e s eem ed to be dis appearing fas t. He turned and vigorous ly c leared the board of the lis t of c rim inal apos trophes . 'E xc us e m e, s ir,' began the boy again. S om e of his c las s m ates s niggered quietly. 'S m ith,' s aid the teac her, attem pting to c ontrol his dis pleas ure, 'you are bec om ing wearis om e in the extrem e. E nough is enough. Now, I s hall write on the board s om e s entenc es in whic h the apos trophes have been om itted. In your exerc is e books I would like you to c opy out the s entenc es and -' 'T ell you where to s tic k them ,' s aid S m ith, jus t loud enough for m e to hear. However, Mr Frobis her als o heard. 'I think a quiet word with you is in order, S m ith,' s aid the teac her. 'S ee m e at lunc htim e.' W hile the c las s c om pleted the exerc is e, I took the opportunity to walk round the des ks , and look at s om e of the work. In due c ours e, I reac hed the young m an who had pres s ed the teac her with s o m any c hallenging ques tions . It s oon bec am e m y turn to be interrogated. 'May I look at your book?' I as ked pleas antly. 'W ho exac tly are you?' he s aid, looking m e s traight in the eyes . 'A s c hool ins pec tor.' 'Really?' 'Y es .' 'A nd what is it that you do exac tly?' 'W atc h les s ons , exam ine books , talk to pupils , s tudy exam ination res ults ,' I explained. 'B it of a c us hy num ber that, is n't it?' 'S om e would s ay s o.' 'A nd how long are you here for?' 'J us t the day.' 'Y ou'll not s ee m uc h in a day.' 'Y ou'd be s urpris ed.' 'A nd pres um ably you write a report at the end of your vis it?' 'Y es , I do.' 'A nd what will be in your report of this les s on?' he as ked bluntly. Now it was m y turn to be in the witnes s box and fac e the tric ky ques tions . 'I haven't quite dec ided yet.' 'B ut you m us t have form ed s om e im pres s ion.' 'It is us ually m e who as ks the ques tions , you know.' T he boy was not going to let m e off the hook s o lightly. 'B ut s urely in a good s c hool,' he s aid, 'the pupils are enc ouraged to as k ques tions , are they not?' 'T hey are,' I replied, 'but with s om e ques tions it would be inappropriate for m e to ans wer.' 'S ounds a bit of a c op-out to m e.' 'S o, m ay I look at your book?' He would not be dis trac ted. 'I rec kon you are here to dis c over whether the s tandard of educ ation is s atis fac tory or not, that the les s ons are up to s c ratc h. Is that right?' 'Y es , that is part of m y job.' 'A nd that being the c as e, s urely it is we, the c lients , who would be m os t interes ted to know.' 'My report is given to the headm as ter. I never dis c us s partic ular les s ons or individual teac hers with s tudents .' 'S o m uc h for freedom of inform ation,' he s aid. I c hanged the s ubjec t. 'Do you like E nglis h?' 'I like the language. I c an't s ay that I like the les s ons .' He waited for a res pons e. 'I'm afraid I c an't get too exc ited about where to put the apos trophe, c an you? In fac t, I c ouldn't really c are les s . It s eem s to m e to be a very outdated c onc ept and wants s c rapping. It is s uc h a deeply uninteres ting topic , don't you think? W hen S hakes peare or Dic kens or J ane A us ten or E m ily B ronte put pen to paper, I am s ure that the las t thing on their m inds was where to s tic k their apos trophes .' 'Y our book, pleas e,' I s aid. He s lid his open book c as ually ac ros s the des k for m e to exam ine. T he book c ontained work of quite exc eptional quality. 'I am s ure you do not need m e to tell you that this work is exc ellent,' I told him . 'No, I don't really.' I c ould s ee that dealing with this young m an was no eas y m atter. He s m iled. 'W hat I m ean is , I don't need you to tell m e, but it is always nic e to be told.' 'A nd what do you hope to s tudy at univers ity?' I as ked. 'W hat m akes you think I wis h to go to univers ity?' he as ked. 'I as s um e you will be.' 'Maybe I will,' he s aid. 'A nd if you do, will you s tudy E nglis h?' 'Law,' he replied. 'Like m y father.' I c los ed his book and pas s ed it bac k to him . It was then that I s aw the nam e on the c over: Hugo Maxwell-S m ith. 'Do you have any brothers or s is ters ?' I as ked. 'Y es , a younger brother and s is ter. My brother is n't at this s c hool yet.' 'A h, s o that would be A lexander, a pupil at Our Lady of Lourdes ?' T hat did s urpris e the young m an, but he didn't have a c hanc e to ques tion m e bec aus e the bell s ignalling the end of the les s on rang s hrilly. 'W hen you have handed your books in,' s aid Mr Frobis her, 'you c an go.' 'Y ou may go,' m urm ured Hugo Maxwell-S m ith, ris ing from his s eat and giving m e the fulles t and m os t c harm ing of s m iles .

4 For the s ec ond period of the day, I joined a gentle-m annered if s om ewhat nervous young teac her c alled Mr A dam s . T he les s on had been well planned, the teac hing was c om petent and foc us ed and the work the s tudents undertook was interes ting and appropriate. It was a vas t im provem ent on the las t les s on that I had obs erved. T he s tudents , aged twelve and put into groups of four, were as ked to dis c us s a news paper artic le with a num ber of ques tion prom pts provided by the teac her. T hey then had the tas k of writing a letter in res pons e, rebutting s om e of the c ritic is m s and s etting out their own views . T he artic le bem oaned the youth of today as largely rude and s elfis h, with little pers everanc e or inc lination for hard work. A c c ording to the writer, young people had far too m uc h m oney at their dis pos al, s pent m any a was ted hour glued in front of the televis ion s et, lac ked res pec t for their elders and had parents and teac hers who did not exerc is e s uffic ient dis c ipline. It harked bac k to a 'golden age' when s m iling bobbies walked the beat, pavem ents were litter-free and there were no teenage m uggers , football hooligans or lager louts . S uc h was the enthus ias m of the pupils to c ontribute their views that I found little opportunity of as king any ques tions , s o m oved from group to group m erely lis tening to the anim ated debate. J us t before the bell s ignalled m orning break, I did m anage to as k one of the s tudents a ques tion. 'W ould you agree that the differenc es between the younger and older generations today are greater than they were when your parents were young?' T he boy thought for a m om ent, c hewing the end of his penc il and nodding his head up and down s lowly. 'Now, that really is a very interes ting ques tion,' he s aid, 'but I have no idea of the ans wer.' A t the m orning break I went in s earc h of Mr P oppleton who, I was inform ed by a helpful pupil, taught in a tem porary c las s room . I dis c overed an ugly s hed balanc ed on s ix rais ed c onc rete bloc ks behind the m ain s c hool building. T he exterior of this m ournful s truc ture res em bled a P OW hut: wooden walls the c olour of the s lim e whic h form s on s tagnant ponds , grey as phalt roof, s m all s quare windows and a s et of dirty brown s teps leading up to a plywood door. It was a far c ry from Mr Frobis her's elegant room . A s I headed for the hut, the door opened and there appeared, like an ac tor s tepping onto the s tage, a s m all, s pheric al individual with a s m ile vis ible from fifty yards . Mr P oppleton c ould have walked s traight out of the pages of a Dic kens ' novel. His c heeks were as wrinkled as an overripe rus s et apple and his nos e, of a m os t dis tinc tive c laret c olour, was as round and heavy as a turnip. Fluffy outc rops of unnaturally bright gingery-red hair s prouted from around his im pres s ive ears . Mr P oppleton was dres s ed in a loud c hec ked s uit (whic h was a s ize too s m all for him ), a rus t-c oloured wais tc oat (whic h had s een better days ) and an enorm ous s potted bow tie. He s ported a diam ond ring on one fat little finger and a heavy s ilver c hain s tretc hed ac ros s his s tom ac h. Mr P oppleton looked m ore like a c irc us perform er or a m us ic hall c om edian than an E nglis h m as ter in a pres tigious boys ' s c hool. 'Mr P oppleton?' I inquired, approac hing the rotund little figure who rem ained s tanding by the c las s room door, like a huge egg on legs . 'Indeed, it is I,' he s aid, beam ing. 'V ernon P oppleton at your s ervic e. A nd you m us t be the expec ted Ins pec tor Fis h.' 'P hinn,' I s aid. 'It was a m is print.' 'W hat was a m is print?' 'My nam e.' 'Y ou were a m is print? How very unfortunate.' 'On the letter.' 'W hic h letter?' 'I rec eived a letter from the s c hool,' I explained, 'with the nam e of "Gervas e P his s " ins tead of "Gervas e P hinn" on the envelope.' Mr P oppleton rais ed a ginger eyebrow. 'A h, the inim itable Mrs W interton,' he s aid knowingly. 'S he is not the m os t profic ient of typis ts but few would hazard to tell her as m uc h. I rec all onc e s he s ent a letter out to parents from "T he Dead-m as ter".' T hen he added in an undertone, 'Not entirely inappropriate if you have m et our es teem ed leader. I m us tn't be unkind, but dear Mr Nels on does have the touc h of death about him . He's a phys ic is t, you know. On another oc c as ion, when the pipes burs t in the outs ide toilets and the floors were awas h, a notic e appeared from Mrs W interton ins truc ting s tudents "not to s lide on the frozen water unles s pas s ed by the headm as ter". T his tim e, s he did, at leas t, m anage to s pell the word "pas s ed" c orrec tly but her ins truc tion was s till rather unfortunate in its phras ing, don't you think?' 'W ell, it is eas ily done,' I s aid, s m iling. 'Indeed it is ,' he agreed. 'Language is a tric ky and troubles om e thing or, as Hom er onc e obs erved, "as twis ty as a s nake". T hat is why one s houldn't be pedantic when the young m ake m is takes . T here, for the grac e of God, et c etera' Obvious ly this opinion c arried little weight with his head of departm ent, I thought to m ys elf, c as ting m y m ind bac k to the firs t les s on. Mr P oppleton produc ed a s m all s ilver heart-s haped box from a wais tc oat poc ket, flipped open the top and took a generous pinc h of s nuff whic h he s niffed up his nos tril with a flouris h. 'Dirty habit, I know,' he told m e, before a tum ultuous s neeze. I c lim bed up the s teps and, when he had returned the s ilver s nuff box to his poc ket and s neezed again, loud enough to wake the dead, I s hook the s oft, fles hy hand whic h was extended. 'Onc e, when I was left to m y own devic es ,' I told him , 'and had to type a letter to a s c hool, I wrote, "Dear Headam s ter". Fortunately, the pers on in ques tion had a s ens e of hum our and replied, "Dear Gerbil".' 'Ho, ho,' he c huc kled, 'very droll! W ould that our es teem ed leader had been endowed with a s ens e of hum our. He s eem s to c arry the troubles of the world on his s houlders . Mr Nels on is m os t indus trious and well m eaning but he is a m an of very s erious , s ober and s om bre dis pos ition. I s uppos e one has to be like that to as c end to the dizzy heights of heads hip. I don't s uppos e I s hould be telling a s c hool ins pec tor s uc h things , s hould I?' He looked about him abs ent-m indedly. 'I do think it is an attribute of c ons iderable im portanc e in teac hing, don't you think?' 'W hat is ?' I as ked. 'W hy, a s ens e of hum our. S adly, educ ation for s om e is s uc h a deadly s erious bus ines s , and yet young people are naturally very funny and do enjoy s haring a joke or lis tening to an am us ing s tory. Hum our, in m y opinion, is highly related to learning and adds ines tim ably to our quality of life.' Obvious ly this opinion, too, c arried little weight with his head of departm ent. 'I do apologis e for pontific ating on the s teps like a preac her of old. Do c om e along in, Mr P hinn. My little kingdom is not the m os t tas teful, arc hitec turally s peaking, but it is hom e and I c an m ake as m uc h nois e as I like without dis turbing others . Of c ours e, it heats up like the Gobi Des ert in s um m er and c ools down like the polar ic e c ap in winter s o I s inc erely hope you are going to be warm enough. I am therm ally ins ulated and, as you m ay obs erve, wear a s uit like a s hag-pile c arpet. I get m y s uits from Fritters of Fettles ham .' I had to s m ile. I had a s uit, not dis s im ilar, from that anc ient em porium , bought in the J anuary s ales at an inc redibly knoc kdown pric e. It was a s ort of m us tardy-brown with a dog-tooth pattern in dark red; it had unfas hionable wide c urved lapels and large leather buttons . I had joined the interview panel at a gram m ar s c hool in a c ram ped room as hot as a s auna. T he heavy s uit had s tuc k to m y body and I had nearly fainted with the heat. I vowed never to wear the wretc hed garm ent again. In fac t, I didn't have a c hanc e s inc e Chris tine had given the jac ket to a loc al farm er for his s heepdog to lie on, and had c ut up the trous ers for polis hing c loths . A s I followed him into the room , Mr P oppleton rem arked, 'I was under the im pres s ion that you were to join m e for the firs t les s on.' 'Y es , but as I explained to Mr Frobis her,' I told him , 'I prefer to work to m y own program m e.' 'A nd wander whither and whenc e you wis h.' 'Indeed. In fac t, I joined the head of departm ent and the fourth form for the firs t period,' I s aid. 'Ho, ho! ' c hortled Mr P oppleton, again rais ing a ginger eyebrow. 'He would not have been bes t pleas ed with that little ploy.' 'No, I don't think he was ,' I s aid. 'I s hould im agine you put the very fear of the A lm ighty into him . I know that when we had a vis itation a few years bac k from an HMI c alled B all - a very s ingular m an, as I rem em ber - he did not endear him s elf to Mr Frobis her. A c tually, Mr B all and I got on rather well. In his report he des c ribed m e as "a s uc c es s ful deviant". I took it as a c om plim ent.' 'I'm s ure it was intended to be s o,' I told him . 'However, you are now here to watc h m e and it is m y turn to feel the frenzied flutter of fright. T he firs t period, whic h I was told you would be obs erving, was rigorous ly planned, c arefully prepared and enthus ias tic ally taught and, though I s ay s o m ys elf, it was quite a tour de forc e. T his next les s on will, I fear, be rather lac klus tre by c om paris on.' 'I'm not really interes ted, Mr P oppleton,' I told him , 'in c arefully planned les s ons or rehears ed perform anc es . T he reas on I don't tell teac hers when I am vis iting their c las s room s is to try and ens ure that nothing s pec ial is prepared. I jus t want to s ee a typic al les s on.' 'You c ertainly won't find m y les s ons typic al, Mr P hinn,' replied the teac her with m oc k horror. 'E very les s on of m ine is a unique experienc e. Now, this m orning, m y "little ones " -thes e are the firs t-year pupils who have jus t joined us from the junior and preparatory s c hools - are c om pleting a poem . I do hope you like poetry.' 'Y es , I do,' I replied. 'A c tually, it's an es s ential c om ponent of the E nglis h c urric ulum .' 'T hat s ounds dreadfully pom pous ,' he obs erved. 'I didn't m ean it to s ound like that,' I replied quic kly. 'I jus t m eant it was im portant to teac h.' 'I fear that Mr Nels on would take is s ue with you on that one. He has a m uc h m ore utilitarian view of language.' T hen, as if hurling an ins ult, he s aid, 'He's a s c ientis t, you know.' 'Y es , you did s ay.' 'W ell, I am s o glad you enjoy poetry,' c ontinued Mr P oppleton. 'I am always deeply s us pic ious of thos e who do not enjoy it. P oetry is not m erely "an es s ential c om ponent of the E nglis h c urric ulum ", as you put it, poetry, in a s ens e, defines the world, it deals with the deepes t em otions , it is language at its m os t prec is e, c reative and vivid, don't you think?' 'Y es , indeed,' I replied. 'I was a s tudent at Univers ity College, Oxford, you know, and every day I would pas s the m arble s c ulpture of S helley rec lining naked on his plinth. I am a great fan of S helley. T he s c ulpture was des tined for the P rotes tant Cem etery in Rom e but it was too big s o they gave it to his old c ollege. Mind you, he very nearly got m e rus tic ated, did S helley.' 'I'm s orry?' 'S ent down. One night, a little wors e for drink, I s c ram bled over the iron grill protec ting the m aus oleum and painted part of dear old S helley a delightful s hade of red.' I was about to res pond but was not quite fas t enough. 'A nd do you write poetry yours elf, Mr P hinn?' 'Y es , I do.' 'S plendid,' he s aid. 'P erhaps you m ight s hare one of your poem s with us .' 'I think not,' I s aid. 'P ity. W ell, do feel free to look around.' Mr P oppleton's room was as c olourful, unus ual and overpowering as the m an him s elf. E very c onc eivable wall s pac e was c overed with pos ters , prints , portraits , paintings , photographs , artic les , letters and pupils ' work. It was a riot of s hape and c olour. From the c eiling dangled m ultic oloured m obiles - s quares , c irc les , diam onds , triangles - with a few vers es written on eac h. T he windows ills were c ram m ed with plants , s om e of whic h had given up the ghos t weeks ago, feathers in jars , c lay figures , c arved boxes , anim al s kulls , fragm ents of pottery and glas s and all m anner of s trange objec ts and artefac ts . Dom inating the room was an anc ient oak des k of c ons iderable proportions and rem arkable uglines s with heavy bras s fittings and num erous drawers . T he top was entirely c overed with a c lutter of dog-eared folders and files , exerc is e books , teac hing texts , thic k dic tionaries and num erous books of poem s . Fac ing the m ons tros ity were rows of tables and hard-bac ked c hairs for the pupils . A s the teac her bus ied him s elf rum m aging through the volum es on the des k, I m ade m y way to a s habby but c om fortable-looking arm c hair pos itioned in the c orner of the room . I pres um ed this was for m e to s it in and obs erve the les s on. To the ac c om panim ent of c reaking wood and twanging s prings , I lowered m ys elf c harily into its s agging s eat, c reating a s m all c loud of dus t in the proc es s . P res ently the pupils entered the room , went quietly to their des ks and plac ed their bags and s atc hels bes ide them on the floor and s tood fac ing the front. 'Good m orning, boys ! ' trum peted Mr P oppleton, with a theatric al wave of his hand. 'Good m orning, s ir,' they replied. 'Y ou s ound pos itively funereal this m orning,' s aid the teac her. 'A repris e, pleas e, with a great deal m ore gus to. Good m orning, boys ! ' T he res pons e was m uc h louder and m ore good-hum oured. 'Muc h better. Do s it down, pleas e.' B y the door s tood the boy I had m et with his m other earlier that m orning. He s tared with wide dis believing eyes and an open m outh at the s m all fat figure before him . He looked like a c hild who had jus t had his lollipop s natc hed from his s tic ky little hand. 'A h,' s aid Mr P oppleton, dis playing a s et of im pres s ive teeth. 'A new boy. A nd what is your nam e, young m an?' 'J ohn B ... B ... B rown, s ir,' s tuttered the boy, twiddling his hair nervous ly. 'J ohn B rown, eh? A nam e in a m illion. W ell, J ohn B rown, you are very welc om e, but you are late, nine days late to be prec is e.' 'I w... w... was ill, s ir,' replied the boy. 'I had gl... glandular fever.' 'How very inc onvenient for you, and not a little painful, I s hould im agine. W ell, you are here now, J ohn B rown, and glad we are to have you with us .' He ges tured to an em pty s eat. 'Take a pew and S im on Morgan, who will be your neighbour from now on, will explain all there is to know about K HC. I will be with you in a m om ent to tell you what work we are undertaking. Now, boys ,' s aid the teac her, addres s ing the entire c las s , 'we have another new fac e in the c las s room this m orning. T he gentlem an in the c orner is Mr P hinn, a s c hool ins pec tor, here to s ee how well we are doing. I hope he leaves us with a good im pres s ion, boys . Do you think he will?' 'Y es , s ir,' they replied. 'S hall we s ay a hearty good m orning to Mr P hinn?' 'Good m orning, Mr P hinn,' c horus ed the c las s . 'Good m orning,' I replied, s inking lower in the arm c hair. 'Now, you know what you have to do, boys ,' c ontinued Mr P oppleton. 'T oday I would like you to c ontinue with the poem s you s tarted las t les s on. Mr P hinn is an afic ionado of poetry, as I am , and m ight c are to tour the c las s room , talk with you about your poem s and read s om e of them .' S o while Mr P oppleton furnis hed the new boy with the nec es s ary books and equipm ent and explained the work he was to c om plete, I levered m ys elf out of the arm c hair to look at the pupils ' books . T he boys were keen to s how m e what they had written and talk about their work. 'W hen we arrived,' s aid the firs t pupil I s poke to, 'we had to write a s hort autobiography s o "P oppo" - I m ean, Mr P oppleton - c ould learn a bit about us .' He opened his book to reveal a neat and inform ative ac c ount of his s hort life, together with illus trations and photographs . T he work had been c arefully and c ons truc tively m arked in penc il. A t the bottom was a long us eful c om m ent from the teac her with ideas for im provem ent. 'A nd how do you like E nglis h?' I as ked. 'It's great. A t prep s c hool, I didn't enjoy it m uc h. W e did lots of boring exerc is es and c opying but here it's really good. Mr P oppleton's a bit out of the ordinary but he's a really good teac her.' T he boy thought for a m om ent before adding. 'He didn't tell m e to s ay that, you know.' 'I'm s ure he didn't,' I s aid, s m iling. 'S o what is your poem about?' 'W e've been as ked to write about s om ebody who is very s pec ial in our lives . It c ould be a parent or a friend, a brother or s is ter. I c hos e m y Gran.' 'W hy your Gran?' 'W ell, grandparents are different from parents , aren't they? T hey're m ore fun, they don't tell you off as m uc h as parents and they give you m oney. Do you want to read m y poem ?' 'W hy don't you read it to m e,' I s aid. T he boy turned a page, took a breath and read : I like m y Gran. S he's round and wrinkly and powdery A nd s m ells of flowers and s oap. S he's as c om fy as a c us hion to s it on. W hen m y m um s houts at m e, I go to m y Gran, A nd s he s ays , 'Never you m ind, love, Y our m um was like that when s he was your age, A real grum pybum ! B eneath the poem was a s m all s ketc h in blac k ink of a s m iling old lady with s parkling eyes and c urly hair. T here were tiny dots s c attered on her upper lip. 'S he has a lot of s pots , your Gran,' I obs erved. 'No, they're not s pots , Mr P hinn,' the boy told m e. 'S he's got a m ous tac he.' T he next pupil, a bright-eyed Indian boy with a ready s m ile, s hook m y hand form ally. 'Good m orning, Mr P hinn,' he s aid. 'My nam e is K irit P atel.' 'I'm pleas ed to m eet you, K irit,' I replied. I talked to the boy for a while about his reading interes ts , tes ted him on s om e s pellings and his knowledge of gram m ar and punc tuation and was m os t im pres s ed. 'May I look at your poem ?' I as ked finally. 'Of c ours e,' he s aid, opening his book and then waiting expec tantly for m e to c om m ent. His poem , entitled 'S hruti', was about his m is c hievous younger s is ter and was delightfully des c riptive and am us ing. 'Is it all right, s ir?' he as ked eventually. 'It's s plendid,' I s aid. 'I've tried to put in s om e c olourful words ,' he told m e s erious ly. 'I think it m akes it m ore interes ting, don't you? A nd there's s om e alliteration - that's when words in a s entenc e begin with the s am e letter. Mr P oppleton is very keen on alliteration.' 'Y es , I know,' I s aid, grinning. I eventually found m y way to the bac k c orner des k where a s m all boy was putting the final touc hes to a poem about his father. 'Finis hed,' he s aid, with a s igh of s atis fac tion. 'May I look?' I as ked. He pas s ed ac ros s his book, c arefully bac ked in s hiny brown paper and with his nam e, 'Rus s ell Davis , Clas s 1A ', written in large, neat letters on the front. I read the firs t few pages of his book - the potted autobiography. It was an im m ens ely poignant ac c ount about his young life. He inform ed the reader in a m atter-of-fac t way that he was an only c hild and lived with his father in a 'pretty ordinary' redbric k terrac ed hous e c los e to the town c entre. T here was a s m all bedroom where he s lept, a larger one for his father, a kitc hen and living room , and a bac k yard with a s hed where he kept his bic yc le. T here was not a great deal of m oney and they rarely went on holiday. T hen his des c ription bec am e m uc h m ore thoughtful and pers onal. His m other, he wrote, had left when he was s m all and he s aw her infrequently. He s aw nothing of his m aternal grandparents . He felt s ad about this and found it diffic ult to unders tand. However, he s aid he was happy living with a father who was as m uc h a friend as a parent. T he poem whic h followed was about a father whom he des c ribed as 'an ordinary-looking s ort of m an, a bit bald and overweight, the kind of m an who wears s hiny trous ers , baggy c ardigans and old s lippers ', but it went on to tell how s pec ial he was and how m uc h he loved him .

'Y our autobiography is a very hones t ac c ount, Rus s ell,' I told him . 'Do you not m ind s haring s uc h pers onal details with other people?' 'W hy s hould I, s ir?' he replied. 'It's the truth. I'm not as ham ed of it. My father s ays it is always bes t to be hones t.' 'He s ounds a rem arkable m an, your father.' 'He is , s ir. He works hard, he takes m e to the c inem a, football m atc hes , onc e we went to the theatre. W e like to go for long walks and we talk about things a lot. W e c an talk about anything. He's jus t... well, s pec ial, you know.' 'A nd what quality do you adm ire m os t in this very s pec ial father of yours ?' I as ked. T he boy thought for a m om ent, s taring at his book and biting his bottom lip. T hen he looked up and into m y eyes . 'W hen he m akes a m is take, m y father s ays he's s orry. Grown-ups don't tend to do that. If m y father gets it wrong, he s ays s o. He s ays it's not being weak to adm it you don't always get things right or that you don't know s om ething.' I thought of the s trident news paper artic le the previous c las s had been as ked to c ons ider. T he tub-thum ping journalis t who had little good to s ay about the younger generation ought to m eet this polite, m ature for his age, young s tudent. T here are m any, m any c hildren who c om e from loving hom es and are in the hands of hard-working and dedic ated teac hers but they are not the ones who appear on the front pages of news papers . B oys like Rus s ell do not m ake news . 'S ir?' T he boy's voic e broke into m y thoughts . 'Oh, I'm s orry! ' I exc laim ed. 'I was m iles away. I was jus t thinking about what you s aid. W ell, Rus s ell, I hope that if I have a s on, he will s peak about m e in the s am e way as you s peak about your father.' 'T hat's really up to you, is n't it, s ir?' replied the boy, s m iling broadly. 'Y es , I s uppos e it is ,' I s aid. W hen the bell s ounded, the boys pac ked their bags , s tood behind their des ks and waited to be dis m is s ed. 'P leas e c om plete your poem for hom ework,' the teac her told the c las s , 'learn the s pellings I gave you yes terday and rem em ber half an hour's reading every night. I tell them frequently, Mr P hinn, that they c annot bec om e great writers unles s they are great readers , for on the bac k of reading is writing. Good advic e, eh?' 'Y es , indeed,' I s aid. 'Good m orning, boys ,' trum peted Mr P oppleton. 'Good m orning, s ir, good m orning, Mr P hinn,' they ans wered and filed out of the room . 'Y ou have s om e talented pupils , Mr P oppleton,' I told him as we headed ac ros s the s c hool yard. 'T he work I have s een this m orning was of an extrem ely high s tandard.' 'Y es , they are very good, but you would expec t no les s in a s elec tive s c hool. A nd I c annot really take c redit for the s tandard of their work. T he boys have only been at the s c hool for les s than two weeks and therefore any talent they have or good work they produc e is down to their previous s c hools .' 'Y es , of c ours e,' I s aid. 'P upils of this c alibre are s om etim es a little daunting, I have to s ay,' he c ontinued, 'but I have always been of the opinion that teac hers s hould s how c hildren the ropes and not be at all s urpris ed if they m anage to c lim b higher than they. I'm s ure s om ebody fam ous s aid that. Indeed s om e, like K irit and Rus s ell, will be m aking ropes of their own before long. Now, Mr P hinn, would you c are to partake of a pre-prandial c up of tea prior to braving the s c hool dining room and a plate of Mrs P ayne's c hic ken nuggets and c hips ? Had Napoleon us ed Mrs P ayne's c hic ken nuggets in his c annons at W aterloo ins tead of balls , the unfortunate em peror would, without a doubt, have won the day. T hey are like grapes hot, but few would hazard to tell her s o.' 'T hat's kind, Mr P oppleton, but I want to look in at the library and s ee what is the extent and range of the s toc k. I need to report on the available res ourc es , as well as on the teac hing.' 'Ho, ho,' he c huc kled. 'I s hall await your obs ervations on our c ollege library with great interes t.' W e had now arrived at the bic yc le s heds where a knot of boys were in loud and intens e dis c us s ion about a partic ularly im pres s ive-looking m ac hine with a s hiny blac k fram e and s ilver handlebars . 'W hat have we here?' as ked Mr P oppleton. 'A little c onv ers az ione?' 'Oh no, s ir,' s aid one of the boys , patting the bic yc le they were dis c us s ing. 'It's a Raleigh Mus tang.' W ith a res ounding laugh, the am azing Mr P oppleton s c urried off in the direc tion of the s c hool dining room for his c hic ken nuggets .

5 A s s oon as I entered through the heavy doors of the s c hool library, I knew exac tly what Mr P oppleton m eant by his enigm atic obs ervation. It was a c old, gloom y room with wall-to-wall s helving in dark oak. T here was not a s tudent in s ight, whic h was hardly s urpris ing given the tem perature and the inhos pitable atm os phere. A s I had told Mr P oppleton, I always tried to find the tim e to c hec k the s c hool library even if it m eant I had to do it during lunc h - not that I had m uc h appetite for c hic ken nuggets . I had c om e ac ros s s om e weird and wonderful titles in m y tim e, m os t of whic h s hould have been thrown out onto the bonfire years ago. I m ade a habit of jotting down s om e of the wors t into a notebook. T hey often c am e in handy when I was invited to give after-dinner talks . I s c anned the dull green and grey c overs of the books on the s helves , and knew im m ediately I would be able to add to m y c ollec tion: Trav els in S outhern Rhodes ia, Harmles s S c ientific E x periments for B oy s (I had onc e found the equivalent book for girls ), The S tately Hous es of S c otland (five volum es ), The Collec ted S ermons of B is hop Franc is Feas by . I pris ed a dus ty volum e entitled B ritannia's E mpire from the s helf. I opened the book at random and read: 'P ygm ies are s avage little blac k m en but all loyal s ubjec ts of George V .' T he library of K ing Henry's College appeared not to have been updated for m any years . I found S c outs in B ondage by Henry P rout, The S k ull of S w ift by S ir S hane Les lie, E x hibition P oultry by George R. S c ott, The W alk ing S tic k M ethod of S elf Defenc e by an Offic er of the Indian A rm y, Leaders hip S ec rets of A ttila the Hun by W es s Roberts P hD and, perhaps m os t bizarre of all, Flas hes from the W els h P ulpit by the Rev G. Davies . T hes e were for the c ollec tor of the weird and wonderful but not of any interes t to teenagers . I looked in vain for the bright glos s y-bac ked paperbac ks and s ports m agazines that appeal to adoles c ent boys but found none. I dis c overed a s elec tion of m ore m odern books in the fic tion s ec tion but the non-fic tion s toc k was lam entably out-of-date and inappropriate. I s at at a s olid s quare table s o typic al of thos e found in old-fas hioned libraries and began writing up s om e c om m ents and rec om m endations about the les s ons I had s een that m orning, but found m y m ind kept wandering bac k to the c onvers ation with young Rus s ell. W hat would m y s ons or daughters s ay of m e when they were teenagers , I thought. W ould I be s o loved and res pec ted like Rus s ell's father? W ould I be as s pec ial to them as his father c learly was to him ? I had been ins pired in Mr P oppleton's c las s room , by the m an him s elf, by his infec tious enthus ias m and by the poem s the pupils had written. I pus hed the notes away and began to s c ribble a poem of m y own, dedic ated to s om eone very s pec ial to m e - m y unborn c hild. A lways believe in yours elf. P rom is e always to be c om pas s ionate. A pprec iate that you m ake m is takes , Rec ognis e that I do, too. E ntrus t m e with -I s uddenly s ens ed a pres enc e and, looking up, found a gangly boy with lanky brown hair and angry ac ne ac ros s his forehead and c heeks peering over m y s houlder. It was Mas ter Hugo Maxwell-S m ith. 'W riting up your report?' he as ked, eyeing the papers in front of m e. I quic kly c overed the poem . 'Y es , I am .' 'S hould m ake interes ting reading.' I c hanged the s ubjec t. 'Is the library well us ed?' I as ked, looking around the em pty room . It was , of c ours e, an inane ques tion to as k. 'No, s ir,' replied the boy s im ply. 'A s you c an s ee, there's nobody here exc ept you and m e. I hope your report will inc lude s om e m ention of the library. It needs a c om plete overhaul.' 'Y es , it will. S o why are y ou here?' I as ked. 'Doing a little res earc h on the apos trophe, ac tually,' he replied. 'Really? I gathered it was n't one of your favourite topic s .' 'It is n't,' replied the boy, 'but I have been c hec king up on the rules .' No doubt to c hallenge poor Mr Frobis her again, I thought. 'It is interes ting that the great writers didn't think m uc h of the apos trophe. George B ernard S haw, for exam ple. T he playwright, you know.' 'Y es , I do know,' I s aid. 'I found the following during the m orning break,' he s aid, c ons ulting a notepad. 'He s ays that he never us ed the apos trophe in any of his writing unles s the om is s ion would s ugges t another word. T his is what he s aid. "T here is not the faintes t reas on for pers is ting in the ugly and s illy tric k of peppering pages with thes e unc outh bac illi." T hat's what he wrote bac k in 1902. I c ouldn't have put it better m ys elf. I thought Mr Frobis her m ight find that interes ting.' Infuriating, m ore like, I thought to m ys elf. 'W ell, I'll let you get bac k to your report,' he s aid, before dis appearing behind a books helf. T he firs t les s on of the afternoon was with Mrs T odd, a form er E nglis h m is tres s who had rec ently retired from the loc al c om prehens ive s c hool but who had been prevailed upon to return to the c las s room to c over for a teac her who was away ill. S he was a dim inutive wom an, s m artly dres s ed in an expens ive dark blue s uit, a c ream blous e and s m all blac k lac e-up boots . S he had neatly perm ed, tinted hair and an as s ortm ent of gold jewellery. T here was not the s lightes t pos s ibility of c halk dus t c om ing into c ontac t with Mrs T odd, I thought to m ys elf. T he les s on, in whic h s he revis ed s om e rules of s pelling with a group of fifteen-year-olds , was lively and interes ting. S he was c learly a very knowledgeable teac her and s he m aintained order with a quiet s elf-as s uranc e and good hum our. I was interes ted to obs erve how s he dealt with a c onfident, s om ewhat s potty-fac ed young m an, in appearanc e and m anner not unlike the rather unnerving Maxwell-S m ith of Mr Frobis her's c las s . T he boy was at pains to dem ons trate what he thought was his s trong c om m and of the E nglis h s pelling s ys tem . He rais ed his hand on a num ber of oc c as ions to c hallenge the teac her but s he retained her affable m anner and c om pos ure. I am s ure that the s ec ret of dealing with s uc h s m art-A lec s is to keep c alm and not let their c lever c om m ents affec t you. Mrs T odd was c ons um m ate in dealing with s uc h s tudents . Having c om pleted her revis ion of the general rules , s he wrote a lis t of awkwardly s pelt words on the board, s om e c orrec tly s pelt, others not. T hen, banning the us e of all dic tionaries , s he told the s tudents to write down in their exerc is e books the inc orrec t words c orrec tly s pelt. W hen they had c om pleted the exerc is e, s he wrote the c orrec t s pellings agains t the inc orrec t words , and as ked eac h s tudent to s ay how m any he had am ended c orrec tly. 'B ut, Mrs T odd,' s aid the s potty boy when he dis c overed he was not as good as he thought, 'I'm c ertain "Inoc ulate" is s pelt with two n's ."I-n-n-o-c -u-l-a-t-e".' 'No, Mic hael, with jus t the one,' replied the teac her. 'Oh, I thought it was with two,' he s aid frowning. 'I'v e always s pelt it with two.' 'Have you really? W ell, you were wrong to do s o, I'm afraid,' replied the teac her pleas antly. ' "Innoc uous " has two n's ,' he s aid. 'T hat is c orrec t,' s aid Mrs T odd am iably. 'B ut "inoc ulate" has only the one.' 'W ell, I'm pretty c ertain "des ic c ate" has two s 's ,' he pers is ted and reac hed for his poc ket dic tionary. 'T here are few c ertainties in life, Mic hael, but one of them is that "des ic c ate" has jus t the one s . T he next tim e you are m aking a c ake, have a look on the pac ket and you will s ee "des ic c ated c oc onut".' T he pic ture of the s erious -fac ed but s potty young m an baking a c ake brought a s m ile to m y lips . 'It's rather like the word whic h m eans "obs tinate",' s aid the teac her, throwing m e a knowing look. 'It is often thought that the word "as inine" has two s 's , too.' T he boy, having looked up the words in the dic tionary and dis c overed that the teac her was , in fac t, perfec tly c orrec t, rem ained in brooding s ilenc e for the res t of the les s on. 'You know, Mr P hinn,' Mrs Todd told m e later, 'adoles c enc e is a s trange tim e in one's life, is n't it? A ll thos e c hanges . S om e young people bec om e s o s hy and s elf-c ons c ious that to get them to talk is like getting blood out of a s tone. Others , like Mic hael, do s o enjoy s howing off a little, and like to kic k agains t authority. I have found that the very bright s tudent c an be as troubles om e and c hallenging as the lazy and dis affec ted one. W e have quite a few like Mic hael in the s c hool. T hey jus t want to be notic ed, be a little individual, flex their m us c les . It's all part of growing up. I s hould know, I have four s ons .' 'W hat a hous eful you m us t have had,' I obs erved. 'Y es , indeed! A nd they all went on what felt like twenty-s ix-year long c ours es at univers ity: m edic ine, arc hitec ture, Frenc h, fine art. T hat's why I need to do a bit of s upply work, to put s om e m oney bac k into the bank ac c ount. It was an expens ive bus ines s bringing up c hildren.' 'Y ou m us t be very proud of them ,' I s aid. 'I am . Have you c hildren, Mr P hinn?' 'No, not yet,' I replied. 'One on the way though.' 'W ell, I expec t your c hild will have all the advantages of life, as I hope m y boys have had. S om e c hildren get s o little s upport and enc ouragem ent at hom e, prec ious little love and attention. I us ed to work in an inner c ity s c hool and, m y goodnes s , s om e of thos e young people had des perate lives .' 'Did your boys c om e to K ing Henry's ?' I as ked. 'Good grac ious , no! ' s he exc laim ed. 'T hey attended S t Ignatius , the Catholic Gram m ar. T hey would not have liked it here and, quite frankly, I don't intend to s tay here for m uc h longer. I've been as ked to c over a m aternity leave later this term at a girls ' high s c hool--T he Lady Cavendis h High S c hool for Girls . S ounds frightfully pos h, does n't it? Do you know the s c hool at all?' 'I do,' I replied. 'It's an exc ellent s c hool and the head of the E nglis h Departm ent is one of the bes t teac hers I have obs erved.' Mrs T odd thought for a m om ent, as if c ons idering whether or not to s peak. 'T his m ight s ound a little unprofes s ional, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid finally, 'but I do find the head of the E nglis h departm ent at this s c hool a very diffic ult m an to relate to and his m anner with the s tudents is , at tim es , unfortunate.' 'I s ee.' I quic kly c hanged the s ubjec t. I c ertainly did not wis h to dis c us s Mr Frobis her with a m em ber of his departm ent. T hat w ould have been unprofes s ional. 'Mic hael s eem s quite a c lever boy, does n't he?' 'He is ,' s he agreed. 'A lthough he c an be a little too c lever for his own good. He's a very bright young m an and he knows it. He jus t needs to exerc is e a little hum ility now and again. B ut I c an handle Mic hael.' 'Y es , you c ertainly c an,' I agreed. I had no doubt about that. T he las t les s on of the day was with the s ixth form and a newly qualified teac her. I arrived at the rather nois y c las s room to find twenty or s o s tudents , all of whom I noted were in s hirts leeves , s itting around tables in anim ated dis c us s ion. 'Is there a teac her here?' I as ked one young m an s itting near the door, rais ing m y voic e above the hubbub. 'I'm the teac her,' he replied, giving m e a broad s m ile. 'S im on P urdey.' 'Oh, I'm s orry, Mr P urdey,' I s aid, 'I thought you were one of the s tudents .' 'W ell, there are only a few years between us and I have been told that I look young for m y age. Y ou m us t be Mr Fis h, the ins pec tor.' 'P hinn,' I c orrec ted. 'Oh, I did wonder when we were told it was Fis h. S ounded a bit s us pic ious .' 'W hat are the s tudents doing this afternoon?' I inquired. 'W e're s tudying Hamlet as our "A " level text and I've as ked the s tudents to read through A c t 1 and re-write it in a different genre: as a m odern radio play, the opening c hapter of a detec tive novel, a horror s tory, thriller, rom anc e, m onologue, doc um entary dram a, that s ort of thing. E ac h group has a different genre to c ons ider.' 'S ounds interes ting,' I s aid. 'W ell, I thought it would get them s traight into the play and als o be a bit of fun before we s tart the m ore s erious bus ines s of looking at the ac tual text. I think it's a better way than wading drearily through S hakes peare as I did at s c hool. Do you know, we were m ade to write out pas s ages of S hakes peare as a punis hm ent? W ould you c redit that? T he greates t words in the E nglis h language and they were s et as a punis hm ent! I only really c am e to apprec iate S hakes peare when I was in the s ixth form and a new teac her arrived. S he jus t turned m e on.' 'Y es ,' I s aid. 'I had a rem arkable E nglis h teac her in the s ixth form , too.' 'A nyway,' c ontinued the young m an, 'I thought that by writing the opening of the play in another form , the s tudents would have to read the firs t ac t c arefully and c ritic ally and then trans pos e it, m aking dec is ions about what to inc lude and what to om it. Later we will look at the ac tual text its elf and ac t it out. Do you want to s ee how far they have got?' 'Y es , I would,' I replied. A s I watc hed the s eries of highly original openings being ac ted out in front of the res t of the c las s , I rec alled m y s ixth-form years when I too s tudied S hakes peare's m os t fam ous play. I was taught by a Mis s W ainwright, a s m all, s oftly s poken wom an who invariably wore a pris tine white blous e buttoned up at the nec k and a long dark s kirt. T he s m all lac e handkerc hief that s he s ec reted up her s leeve would be oc c as ionally pluc ked out to dab her m outh. S ave for the large c am eo brooc h plac ed at her throat, s he wore no jewellery and there was no ves tige of m ake-up. W hat was s o m em orable about this rem arkable teac her was her eyes . T hey s hone with intens ity, es pec ially when s he was dis c us s ing her favourite s ubjec t, S hakes peare. S he had taken us to s ee a produc tion of K ing Lear at the Rotherham Civic T heatre. I realis e now that the ac ting had been wooden and the c os tum es bizarre, but the beauty and poignanc y of the language had c om e through. K ing Lear had entered with his dead daughter draped in his arm s and he howling to the heavens : 'S he is gone forever! ' T o m y horror, Mis s W ainwright - s itting one away from m e in the row had begun to c ry, and I s oon followed s uit. S he had indeed been an am azing teac her. W henever I s aw an outs tanding E nglis h teac her, I often thought of Mis s Mary W ainwright and thanked God for the good fortune of having been taught by her. S he brought S hakes peare to life, and developed in m e a love of literature for whic h I s hall be forever grateful. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard m y nam e m entioned by the teac her. 'A nd the las t vers ion is one that Mr P hinn, as a Y orks hirem an, will apprec iate. It's the Y orks hire vers ion of Hamlet.' T wo boys , am bled towards eac h other at the front of the room , hands thrus t deep in their poc kets . 'Hey up, 'A m let.' 'Hey up, 'Oratio, what's tha doin' 'ere?' 'Nowt m uc h. 'Ow abaat thee then, 'A m let? I 'ant s een thee for a bit.' 'Nay, I'm not that c ham pion, 'Oratio, if t'truth be towld.' 'W hay, 'A m let, what's oop?' 'Mi dad's deead, m i m am 's m arried m i unc le and m i girl friend does nowt but nag, nag, nag. I tell thee 'Oratio, I'm weary wi' it. ' 'A ye, tha's not far wrong theer, 'A m let. S he's gor a reight gob on 'er, that Hophilia. T eks after 'er owld m an.' 'A nyroad, 'Oratio, what's tha doin' 'ere in Hels inor?' 'I've c om e for thee dad's funeral.' 'More like m i m am 's wedding.' 'A ye, s he dint let t'gras s grow under 'er feet, did s he?' 'I don't know what m i owld m an 'ud m ek of it, 'Oratio, I really don't.' 'W ell, tha c an as k 'im thees elf, 'A m let.' ''Ow's tha m ean?' ''E 's been walkin' on t'battlem ents every neet this week, a-m ooanin' and a-grooanin' and purrin' t'wind up iverybody. W e're s ic k to deeath on it, 'A m let, we really are.' 'Ger on! ' 'It's reight, 'A m let. 'E won't s hurrup. A -m ooanin' and a-grooanin' an' a-c lankin' abaat like there's no tom orra.' 'I wonder wor 'e wants ?' 'W ell, tha c an as k 'im thas elf, 'c os 'ere 'e c om es now.' A third boy entered. ''E y up, our 'A m let.' ''E y up, dad. How's it gooin'?' ''Ow's it gooin'? How's it gooin'? W hat's tha m ean, how's it gooin'? I'm deead, 'A m let, and I'm not that c huffed abaat it.' 'Oh, aye, I forgot.' 'I was done in, 'A m let, m urdered, killed, s layed, bum ped off, has s as s inated.' 'E e, that were a rotten tric k.' 'Rotten tric k! Rotten tric k! It were bloody c rim inal, that's what it were.' 'W ho did it, dad?' 'Mi kid brother.' 'Mi Unc le Claudius ?' 'A ye, 'im what's nic ked m i c rown and m arried thee m am .' 'W hat's to do, then, dad?' 'W hat's tha m ean, what's to do?' 'W hat's tha c om e bac k fer?' 'I wants thee to s ooart thy unc le out, that's what I wants thee to do. I wants thee to do to 'im what 'e did to m e, our 'A m let. Now I 'ope tha's got t'gum ption for it. Com e on, 'Oratio, let's let t'lad get c rac kin'. ' A s I watc hed and laughed along with the teac her and s tudents , I thought of Mr P oppleton's words that young people are naturally very funny. He was right: hum our is highly related to learning and adds ines tim ably to our quality of life. T here are few things m ore pleas urable to hear in life than young people laughing uns elfc ons c ious ly. Following the perform anc e, there was loud and s pontaneous applaus e and c heering whic h died s uddenly when the door opened and there s tood Mr Frobis her, like 'T he Ghos t of Chris tm as P as t'. 'T here is a great deal of nois e c om ing from this room ,' he s aid. 'I c ould hear it at the end of the c orridor.' 'W e're s tudying Hamlet,' explained Mr P urdey, s eem ingly unperturbed by the interruption. 'Really? I was n't aware, Mr P urdey, that Hamlet was quite s o am us ing.' Mr Frobis her then c aught s ight of m e and gave a watery s m ile. 'A h, Mr P hinn, I didn't s ee you s itting there. I was wondering where you had got to. I s hall be on bus duty after s c hool, s o will join you and Mr Nels on at about half pas t four, if that is c onvenient.' 'Y es , that's fine,' I s aid. He peered around the room . 'A nd you boys will be aware of the s c hool rules on the wearing of blazers . W ell, do c arry on, Mr P urdey,' s aid the head of E nglis h, leaving the room . 'W hat a day,' s aid Mr Nels on, breathing out heavily. 'I've barely had c hanc e to get a c up of tea, it's been s o bus y.' I s at before the headm as ter at the end of the s c hool day, on the unc om fortable ladderbac k c hair, thinking that a c up of tea would indeed be m os t ac c eptable. Clearly one was not forthc om ing and, anyway, if it had been, the s c hool s ec retary m ight well have added m ore than m ilk to it. 'Mr Frobis her will not be long,' s aid Mr Nels on. 'I s ugges t, to s ave your repeating yours elf, we wait for him to join us .'

'A c tually, Mr Nels on,' I replied, dec iding to get the diffic ult bit over with as quic kly as pos s ible, 'I would prefer to have a private word with you before Mr Frobis her arrives .' T he headm as ter turned to fac e m e, his brow furrowing. 'Oh.' 'I think it m ight be better.' 'T his s ounds rather om inous , Mr P hinn,' he s aid. 'Do I take it you are not entirely s atis fied with what you have s een today?' 'Not entirely,' I told him . 'On the whole, the les s ons I obs erved were very good. Indeed, s om e were exc ellent. Generally, the teac hing in the departm ent is highly c om petent and at tim es m os t innovative and im aginative, but there is one exc eption, I am afraid to s ay.' 'A h,' s ighed the headteac her, 'Mr P oppleton. It has to be s aid, he is rather ec c entric and individualis tic , but he has been at the s c hool for m ore years than I c an rem em ber and the boys do s o enjoy his teac hing. Indeed, his exam ination res ults are m os t c reditable. I have m entioned the s nuff -' 'It's not Mr P oppleton,' I interrupted. 'His les s on was exc ellent.' 'Is it Mr P urdy? Mr A dam s ? I am s ure you are aware that they have jus t s tarted their teac hing c areers and it is to be expec ted that -' 'No, their les s ons were fine.' 'S urely, it's not Mrs T odd. I am aware that s he has not taught in a gram m ar s c hool before, but s he c am e highly rec om m ended by the headteac her of the c om prehens ive where s he taught and has had extens ive teac hing experienc e. Indeed -' 'Mr Nels on, it is none of thes e teac hers ,' I told him . T he headm as ter began rubbing his tem ples . 'T hen, by a proc es s of elim ination, it m us t be the head of departm ent. Y ou know, I had a feeling it would be Mr Frobis her.' 'It is Mr Frobis her,' I s aid. 'A nd you felt his les s on to be uns atis fac tory?' 'I apprec iate that Mr Frobis her has one partic ularly diffic ult boy in his c las s -' 'A h, yes , Maxwell-S m ith. He c an indeed be a thorn in the s ide, that young m an. His father is quite a handful too and often c ontac ts the s c hool with one c om plaint or another.' 'Y es , the boy was a diffic ult and very dem anding s tudent. I am aware that I have only obs erved the one les s on, but I did judge it to be les s than s atis fac tory.' 'W hat was the les s on about?' as ked the headm as ter. 'It was an extrem ely dreary les s on on the us e of the apos trophe.' 'I was under the im pres s ion, Mr P hinn,' s aid Mr Nels on, 'that the apos trophe is a dreary s ubjec t.' 'More im portantly,' I s aid, 'Mr Frobis her has not the bes t relations hip with the s tudents and the work that I m anaged to s ee was extrem ely narrow in range.' Mr Nels on thought for a m om ent before replying. 'Mr Frobis her, it has to be adm itted, is not the m os t dynam ic and enthus ias tic of teac hers and I have notic ed that he found teac hing rather m ore exac ting las t year but he is very loyal to the s c hool, has not had a day's abs enc e as long as I c an rem em ber and, with regard to his duties , is punc tilious . B ut -' 'B ut as a teac her?' I inquired. 'He is , how does one put this , not as good as he was . In fac t, he bec am e rather dis illus ioned s everal years ago. He applied for deputy heads hips a num ber of tim es but was uns uc c es s ful, des pite his exc ellent ac adem ic qualific ations . I im agine he thought he would end his c areer as a headm as ter. He finds the s tudents thes e days rather m ore outs poken and les s attentive. He harks bac k to a golden age, I'm afraid, when pupils did what they were told without ques tion, a tim e when there was the c ane. Young people thes e days do tend to be m ore forthright and, of c ours e, we have s om e very exigent s tudents here. MaxwellS m ith is not alone. I realis e Mr Frobis her is not the bes t teac her in the world, but he is s ound enough, don't you think? Certainly his c las s room s are quiet, the s tudents always appear to be in a workm anlike atm os phere and he m arks his books thoroughly. A nd he has only a c ouple m ore years to go. Of c ours e, when he retires , it is m y intention to appoint s om eone with greater energy and enthus ias m .' T his m onologue s ounded to m e as if the headm as ter was trying to c onvinc e him s elf. 'A s I s aid, I have only obs erved one les s on,' I replied, 'and it would be unreas onable to judge a teac her on the evidenc e of one les s on but I am s uffic iently c onc erned to m ake a return vis it and s pend m ore tim e in the departm ent obs erving him .' 'I don't think that will be very well rec eived,' s ighed the headm as ter. 'Y our predec es s or, Mrs Y oung, did s pend s om e tim e a few years ago doing jus t that but with little effec t.' 'I was n't aware of that,' I s aid, s itting up on the hard wooden c hair. 'I am s ure her report will be filed at the E duc ation Offic e. Did you not read through it prior to your vis it?' 'No, I didn't,' I replied, feeling rather guilty. 'W ell, Mrs Y oung felt very m uc h the s am e way as you do. Following her vis it, Mr Frobis her agreed to relinquis h the s ixth form teac hing whic h he was finding the m os t irks om e. He als o attended one or two c ours es on the developm ent of c om m unic ation s kills but it is very diffic ult to c hange the habits of a lifetim e.' 'S o, there have been res ervations expres s ed about his c om petenc e before?' I as ked. 'W ell, yes , but I never c ons idered them s erious enough to ins titute any kind of dis c iplinary proc eedings . Mr B all, one of Her Majes ty's Ins pec tors , who vis ited us s om e years ago, was not im pres s ed but, as I s aid to him at the tim e, I've s een far wors e teac hers than Mr Frobis her in m y c areer. It is true I have rec eived one or two parental c om plaints about him but not enough to take things further. In any c as e, as you will be well aware, it is very diffic ult to do anything about a teac her in term s of dis c iplinary ac tion unles s he runs off with a s ixth-form girl or s teals the dinner m oney. I have, it is fair to s ay,' s aid Mr Nels on, s taring out of the window like the great adm iral him s elf looking for his los t fleet, 'tended to turn a bit of a blind eye. A s I intim ated, Mr Frobis her is near the end of his c areer. Is it really worth all the tim e and trouble, quite apart from the effec t it will have upon the m an him s elf and on the s c hool, to purs ue this further?' 'Children des erve the bes t, Mr Nels on,' I s aid. A t that very m om ent there was a rap on the door and the m an him s elf entered. 'May I c om e in?' s aid Mr Frobis her.

6 T hat evening I arrived hom e to find a note from Chris tine. S he had a governors ' m eeting after s c hool that afternoon, followed by a parents ' m eeting in the evening, s o would not be in until late. I was pleas ed in a way bec aus e I c ould s ettle down without any dis turbanc e and try to put together the report on K ing Henry's - a report I knew would be the m os t diffic ult I had ever written. It was after ten o'c loc k when I finally put down m y pen and plac ed the c om pleted report in m y briefc as e, jus t at the very m om ent when Chris tine walked in. 'Hello,' s he s aid brightly, c om ing over and pec king m e on the c heek. 'How did it go?' I as ked. 'Fine. I c ouldn't as k for better governors , and the parents ' evening went like a dream . It's s o good to have s upportive c olleagues and parents . It m akes s uc h a differenc e.' 'T hat's good,' I s aid. 'A nd did you have a good day?' s he as ked. 'How long have you got?' 'Oh dear,' s he s aid, 'that bad? Do you want to talk about it?' 'No,' I s aid, 'not now, anyway. I'm bus hed. I think I'll turn in.' 'A re you s ure you don't want to talk about it?' Chris tine as ked, s lipping her arm through m ine. 'W e c ould have a glas s of wine, s nuggle up in front of the fire and you c ould tell m e all about it.' 'Not now, love,' I replied. 'I've had a really tiring day. I'm s orry I'm s uc h a m is ery. I'll s nap out of it this weekend, I prom is e.' T he next day, on m y way to a c onferenc e in York, I dropped the report off at the offic e for J ulie to type. I s pent the m orning in lec tures , the c ontent of whic h, I fear, pas s ed c lean over m y head, and the afternoon in dis c us s ion groups . I c ontributed nothing, s itting there in brooding s ilenc e. My m ind was full of the events of the previous day at K ing Henry's College. I arrived bac k at the offic e at the end of the afternoon to find J ulie had typed out the report, plac ed a c opy on m y des k and s ent another to Dr Gore's offic e. T his would be des patc hed to the s c hool. I read through what I had written. In the c old light of day, it s ounded extrem ely c ritic al. A t that m om ent S idney and David breezed in. 'Friday! ' exc laim ed S idney. 'T hank God it's Friday! ' 'Do keep it down, S idney,' s aid David. 'Y ou know the ps yc hologis ts on the bottom floor have c om plained about your boom ing voic e and Gervas e is trying to work. Hello, Gervas e.' 'Hello,' I replied wearily. 'Oh dear,' s aid S idney, dropping his briefc as e on his des k with a thum p and flopping into his c hair. 'Our young c olleague does look down in the dum ps . W hatever's the m atter?' 'I've got things on m y m ind,' I told him with the voic e of a peevis h c hild. 'W e've all got things on our m inds ,' s aid S idney uns ym pathetic ally, s tretc hing bac k and obs erving the c rac ks on the c eiling. 'W ell, you don't look as if you have,' I retorted. 'I've never s een you s o c heerful.' 'T hat is bec aus e,' s aid David, 'Harold has laid down the law to the headm as ter of W es t Challerton High S c hool and S idney is to m ake his trium phant return next week.' 'Y es , indeed,' c hortled S idney. 'Harold was quite s uperb. It was a bravura perform anc e on the phone. I heard it all. He's going in with m e next week to s ee Mr P ennington-S m ith.' 'I'm glad s om ebody's happy,' I s aid. 'Gervas e,' s aid David, peering over the top of his s pec tac les , 'if I had pulled an expres s ion like that when I was a lad, m y old W els h grandm other would have told m e I had a fac e like a s m ac ked bottom .' 'Yes , for goodnes s s ake, c heer up,' s aid S idney, throwing a ball of s c rewed up paper in m y direc tion. 'You are about as m uc h fun as an inc ontinent trapeze artis t. T here's the weekend ahead of you. No m ore reports , s c hool vis its or paperwork, no s hrill telephones ringing every five m inutes . A bove all, a bles s ed res t from the hom ely words of wis dom of David's old W els h grandm other whom , if I c ould get hold of her, I would c heerfully throttle.' 'I don't feel like c heering up, S idney,' I s aid. 'I've told you, I've got things on m y m ind.' 'W hat, pray,' as ked S idney, 'c ould a healthy young m an like you, with a beautiful wife, a youngs ter on the way, a pic ture-pos tc ard c ottage in the Dales and a rewarding and relatively well-paid profes s ion, have to worry about?' 'Y es , do tell us ,' s aid David. 'Y ou were in s uc h high s pirits a c ouple of days ago. W hatever's happened?' 'A s Connie would s ay,' s aid S idney, '"A trouble s hared is a trouble doubled." Do tell.' Connie, the c aretaker of the S taff Developm ent Centre, was a m is tres s of m alapropis m s and non s equiturs . S o I told them about m y vis it to K ing Henry's College the previous day and the verbal report I had given after s c hool. 'A nd how did the head of departm ent reac t,' as ked S idney, s itting up, 'when you inform ed him that he was us eles s ?' 'S idney! ' I s napped. 'I did not s ay he was us eles s . I s aid that his les s on was les s than s atis fac tory.' 'It's m uc h the s am e thing. Y ou're jus t c ouc hing it in euphem is tic language. "Les s than s atis fac tory" m eans "uns atis fac tory" whic h m eans "weak" or "poor", "below s tandard", "inadequate", "inc om petent", ergo "us eles s ". I rec all onc e when I had a s im ilar tric ky s ituation -' 'Look, S idney,' interrupted David, holding up a res training hand, 'let the poor m an finis h. Now, Gervas e, what happened when you told the head of E nglis h that his les s on was n't up to m uc h?' 'Les s than s atis fac tory,' I c orrec ted him . 'Y es , yes , les s than s atis fac tory,' David repeated. I related the whole dreadful epis ode: how Mr Frobis her had turned a ghas tly white, s hot bolt upright in his c hair and had begun to trem ble with anger; how he had told m e that he had never had his profes s ional c om petenc e c hallenged like that in all his forty years of teac hing and that he intended to take m atters further with his union repres entative. 'T hen he upped and walked out,' I told m y c olleagues . 'High dram a, indeed,' s aid S idney. 'A nd what was old Horatio doing while all this was going on?' as ked David. 'W ho?' 'Nels on.' 'T urning a blind eye,' I s aid glum ly. 'He never opened his m outh.' 'T ypic al,' s aid David. 'A nything for a quiet life. He is not a m an of dec is ive ac tion, Mr Nels on. It's a c as e of the c aptain having los t c ontrol of the s hip at K HC or perhaps , m ore appropriately, the adm iral having los t c ontrol of the fleet.' 'W ell, to be frank, I think you c ould have handled it rather better,' s aid S idney unhelpfully. 'Really?' I replied, with c lear irritation in m y voic e. 'How?' 'B y bottling out, like S idney would have done,' m urm ured David. 'Not at all,' s aid S idney. 'B y em ploying greater tac t and diplom ac y.' 'Ha! ' s norted David.' "T ac t" and "diplom ac y" are not words in your voc abulary.' 'Had it been m e,' c ontinued S idney, 'I would have told the headm as ter, prior to the head of E nglis h arriving on the s c ene, that I had an urgent m eeting after s c hool s o c ould not s tay to dis c us s the day. I would have told him that I would be s ubm itting a full and detailed written report of m y vis it and that I would m ake another appointm ent with the head of E nglis h, s hould he wis h to dis c us s it. Of c ours e, it would be very unlikely, given the c irc um s tanc es , that this Mr Frobis her would wis h to s ee m e again. I s hould then have left the s c hool before the arrival of the head of departm ent. I really think it was neither the tim e nor plac e to give s uc h c ritic al feedbac k to the m an, partic ularly in front of the headm as ter.' 'T hat's only putting it off,' I replied. 'No, it is n't,' s aid S idney, 'bec aus e, after s ending the report, I would have plac ed the m atter firm ly in Harold's in-tray. Firs tly, he has vas t experienc e in c oping with awkward is s ues and s ec ondly, as the S enior Ins pec tor, he is paid to deal with s uc h diffic ult s ituations . Harold would then go into the s c hool and talk with the headm as ter and the head of E nglis h and I s hould be free to get on with m y other work.' 'In other words ,' s aid David s m ugly, 'you would bottle out and get s om ebody els e to fire your bullets for you. T hat is s o typic al of you, S idney! ' 'W ell, c om e on then, fount of all wis dom , what would you have done?' as ked his c olleague. 'W ell,' s aid David, rem oving his s pec tac les , 'I do think it was perhaps a little unfortunate, Gervas e, that you c ritic is ed the head of departm ent in front of the headm as ter. You m ight have gues s ed, from s eeing him teac h and his m anner, that he would be a pric kly c us tom er. Had it been m e, I s hould have arranged to s ee the head of E nglis h privately next week and held off writing the report. I would have dis c us s ed the les s on with him in detail and given him the opportunity of res ponding. A fter all, it was jus t one les s on and it was with the older pupils who tend to be m ore diffic ult to handle. T his les s on m ight not have been at all typic al.' 'T hen what?' I as ked. 'I would have written the report, s hown it to Harold and s ought his advic e. I would then have returned to the s c hool to dis c us s it with the headm as ter, arranging further vis its to obs erve a s eries of les s ons and to offer advic e and s upport.' 'He was n't the s ort of m an to readily ac c ept any advic e and s upport,' I s aid glum ly. 'A nyway, it's eas y with hinds ight. It's too late to do any of that now. I've already s ent the report in.' 'My goodnes s , how expeditious ! ' exc laim ed S idney. 'T here are s om e people in life who like to get things done quic kly,' David told him , s taring at the pile of papers on S idney's des k. 'Of c ours e, there are others who do not.' 'I wanted it out of the way,' I s aid. 'I finis hed it las t night and J ulie typed it up and took it over to County Hall this m orning.' 'Have you got a c opy to hand?' as ked David. I reac hed over to m y out-tray and pas s ed the doc um ent ac ros s the des k. David read it without c om m ent then pas s ed it to S idney who huffed and puffed and grim ac ed his way through it. 'Y ou don't m inc e your words ,' s aid S idney. 'T alk about "going for the juggler", as Connie would s ay.' 'W ell, I was irritated by the m an,' I s aid defens ively. 'He was quite offhand with m e and his les s on was uns atis fac tory. Furtherm ore, one of the E nglis h s taff told m e he was a diffic ult m an to work with and was n't good with the s tudents .' 'A bit unprofes s ional that, Gervas e, if I m ay s ay s o,' s aid S idney, 'dis c us s ing the head of departm ent with a c olleague. He m ight have an axe to grind.' 'It was a wom an, ac tually, and I didn't dis c us s him with her. T he inform ation was volunteered. A nd s he didn't have an axe to grind either. S he was the s upply teac her. I have s trong res ervations about Mr Frobis her and that is what I have put in m y report.' 'B ut it was only one les s on,' s aid David quietly. 'I know.' 'A nd you s peak in all thes e glowing term s about his c olleagues ,' s aid S idney. 'He s tands out like the proverbial wic ked fairy at the c hris tening. I m ean, to be told everyone in your departm ent is brilliant and you are us eles s c ould finis h the poor old bloke off.' 'S idney! How m any m ore tim es ! I did not s ay he was us eles s and if you had m et him the las t des c ription you would us e of the m an is "poor old bloke".' 'W ell, if I rec eived a report like that,' s aid S idney, 'I would c ontem plate throwing m ys elf head firs t down a pothole in Gras s ington.' 'W hy a pothole in Gras s ington?' as ked David. 'Y ou know what I m ean,' replied S idney. 'A report like that one would m ake m e feel pos itively s uic idal.' I felt c ons iderably wors e now. P erhaps the report was , after all, too c ritic al. 'Does it s ound that bad?' I as ked. 'I'm afraid it does ,' s aid David. 'B ut all is not los t. T he c ounty m ail into s c hools does n't go out until next T ues day afternoon. If you retrieve the report, m oderate the tone a little, let Harold have a glanc e through it and get his advic e on the m atter, all is not los t. Of c ours e, it will have to be Monday m orning now. T hey will have all left by this tim e.' 'A n exc ellent idea,' s aid S idney, jus t as the c loc k on the County Hall c loc k s truc k s ix. 'A nd that's hom e-tim e, I think. Oh, and J ulie s aid there was that loud m an on the phone to s peak to you again. I hope it is n't another problem , old boy.' Chris tine had obvious ly taken c ons iderable trouble to prepare a nic e s upper that evening but I jus t did not feel like eating. I poked the potatoes around the plate and m ade a half-hearted attem pt to eat the m eat. 'Don't you like it?' s he as ked. 'I thought fillet s teak with garlic butter was one of your favourites .' 'It's fine,' I s aid, 'it's jus t that I'm not that hungry.' 'W hat's wrong?' s he as ked, s liding a hand ac ros s the table and taking m ine. 'Y ou were ups et about s om ething las t night. W hat is it?' 'I think I really m is handled a s ituation in a s c hool yes terday,' I told her gloom ily. 'T here was a head of departm ent whom I c ritic is ed in front of the headm as ter and he jus t s torm ed out of the room . I feel quite bad about it now.' 'I'm s ure you're over-reac ting,' s aid Chris tine. 'Did you have a word with Harold about it?' 'No, I s hould have done,' I replied. 'I did tell David and S idney today and as ked what they thought.' 'A nd?' 'T alk about J ob's c om forters . T hey think I c ould have handled it better.' I told her what they had s aid. 'T his head of departm ent, is he any good?' 'W ell, the les s on I obs erved was c ertainly rather poor. It was n't dis as trous . T he pupils weren't s houting and running about or anything like that, but he had quite an unpleas ant m anner with the s tudents , the work in their books was narrow and he'd gone m ad with the red pen. It looked as if s om eone had bled over the pages . A nd he was very brus que with m e.' 'W ere the pupils m aking m uc h progres s in their work, do you think?' 'No, not really.' 'Do you think they were enjoying the s ubjec t?' 'No, I don't think that they were.' 'How long has he been teac hing, this head of departm ent?' as ked Chris tine. 'Nearly forty years .' 'Forty years ? A nd nobody's ever s aid anything about him before?' 'W ell, they have as a m atter of fac t. I believe an HMI, a m an c alled B all, was c ritic al of him and I dug out the report that m y predec es s or, Mrs Y oung, had written about him .' 'A nd?' 'S he was not that im pres s ed and tried to get him on s om e c ours es but it does n't s eem to have done m uc h good.' 'W ell, things don't s eem to have im proved by the s ound of it,' s aid Chris tine, 'and he's gone on teac hing c las s after c las s , year after year. It s eem s to m e that the headm as ter has a lot to ans wer for and, for that m atter, the ins pec tors who have s een him teac h and not really taken any ac tion.' 'It's not quite as eas y as that, Chris tine,' I told her. 'A s the headm as ter was at pains to point out, and he's right, it's really hard to dis m is s a teac her unles s he s teals the dinner m oney or runs off with a s ixth-form girl. T his m an's les s ons are not s o bad as to lead to his being s ac ked. I m ean, the s tudents don't riot, he s ets hom ework and m arks their books .' 'Look, Gervas e, you are always going on about c hildren des erving the bes t that teac hers c an give, how they only have the one c hanc e at educ ation, that they need to be taught by enthus ias tic , c om m itted, good-hum oured and hard-working people.' Chris tine was throwing m y own words bac k in m y fac e. 'Y es , I know,' I s aid. 'B e hones t, would you want this m an teac hing our c hild?' 'No, I wouldn't.' 'W as he enthus ias tic , c om m itted, good-hum oured and hardworking?' s he as ked. 'Not when I s aw him , he was n't.' 'T hen you had to s ay s o. Your job is not going round s c hools telling poor teac hers that they are fine, that everything in the garden is ros y. If there were a m em ber of m y s taff who was not up to s c ratc h, they would be told and I would help them to im prove. If they didn't im prove then they would have to go. It's as s im ple as that. Is n't your job to tell the truth as you s ee it, whic h s om etim es m eans being c ritic al? Of c ours e, you have to c elebrate what is good in a s c hool, tell teac hers who are doing a good job that they are doing a good job and tell thos e who aren't, that they need to im prove.' 'Y es , I know you're right,' I s aid. 'It's jus t that it was pretty unpleas ant and for s om e reas on I feel very down about the whole s ituation. A nyway, onc e I've got the report bac k and m ade it les s trenc hant, I'm s ure I'll feel better.' 'Y ou're c hanging the report?' s he as ked. 'Y es .' 'Do you think that's a good idea?' 'W hat?' 'Changing the report jus t bec aus e S idney and David s aid you were too hard on this teac her. I think you have to s tic k to what you believe, gras p the nettle and fac e the c ons equenc es .' 'Chris tine! ' I s napped irritably. 'I wis h I had never brought the wretc hed m atter up. I'm feeling even wors e about it now.' 'OK ! OK ! Y ou do what you think bes t,' s he s aid, beginning to c lear the plates away. I laps ed into a m oody s ilenc e. W hen Chris tine began was hing the dis hes , I c rept up behind her and put m y arm s around her wais t. 'I'm s orry I was s harp with you,' I s aid. 'It's jus t that I was really looking forward to a break from work. T his thing is like a blac k c loud. B ut you're probably right. I do need to gras p this partic ular nettle. A nyway, I'm not going to think about it any m ore. Let's jus t enjoy the weekend.' Chris tine turned and kis s ed m e on the c heek. 'It will be a taboo s ubjec t,' s he s aid. 'Oh, and s peaking of nettles , tom orrow you prom is ed to s ort out the garden. Half the village s eem s to be out in their gardens , and there are bonfires everywhere.' On the following Monday m orning I m ade m y way along the neat gravel footpath bordering the well-tended lawns in front of County Hall to retrieve the report on K ing Henry's College. Des pite m y prom is e, I had thought about it a great deal over the weekend and had dec ided to take David's advic e and m ake the

c om m entary on Mr Frobis her's les s on les s forthright and c ritic al. I did not tell Chris tine. E ac h tim e I took this route ac ros s the form al gardens to the front of County Hall, I rec alled the firs t oc c as ion, over three years earlier, when I had arrived for interview for the pos t of Ins pec tor for E nglis h and Dram a. T he huge, grey-s tone edific e had overawed m e then, as it did now. T he interior of the building was als o daunting: endles s c old, ec hoey c orridors , high ornate c eilings , polis hed wooden floors , huge m arble s tatues , endles s rows of oil paintings of s tern-looking dignitaries and s epia photographs of form er m ayors and alderm en. It was like a m aus oleum . Mrs S avage's offic e was in the A nnexe, a bright, m odern bloc k whic h c lung to the older darker building like s om e pale brown paras ite. On her door, em blazoned in large blac k letters , it s tated 'MRS B RE NDA S AVA GE , P ers onal A s s is tant to the Chief E duc ation Offic er'. S inc e m y las t vis it, at the end of the previous term , there had been an addition. A s m all box had been fas tened to the fram e of the door enc as ing what appeared to be a s et of m iniature traffic lights - three c irc les in red, am ber and green. A bove were the ins truc tions to pres s the buzzer beneath and then wait. J ulie had warned m e about this c ontraption whic h I had, in fac t, already s een in operation at one of the s c hools I had vis ited the previous year. T he idea behind the ingenious devic e was for the vis itor to pres s the buzzer to gain the attention of the pers on ins ide the offic e. T he headm as ter, or whoever was within the offic e, then had three options from whic h to c hoos e. He would pres s a button and one of the options would light up. It was only when the c irc les were illum inated that the ins truc tions c ould be s een: 'E ngaged', 'P leas e W ait' or 'P leas e E nter'. A ll very c lever, but I had to s m ile. In the s c hool where I had s een this before, it had worked well for the firs t few weeks , but then the headteac her bec am e c onc erned that s o few people s ought to s ee him . T he reas on s oon bec am e c lear when the c aretaker, wis hing to s ee the headteac her one day, duly pres s ed the buzzer and a few s ec onds later one of the c irc les had lit up. T he c aretaker, being a forthright fellow, thought he s hould draw the headm as ter's attention to the m es s age. It turned out that one rather inventive pupil, who had been s ent to the headm as ter for m is behaviour jus t after the ins tallation of the devic e, had waited outs ide the room . Having nothing better to oc c upy his tim e, the m is c reant had, with a penknife, c arefully eras ed the blac k lettering whic h s tated 'P leas e W ait' and s ubs tituted a phras e of his own by writing on the plas tic with a blac k felt-tip pen, his alternative only being s een when the panel lit up. V is itors arriving at the headteac her's door, duly pres s ed the buzzer and the little c irc le lit up with the ins truc tion to 'P is s Off! ' W hat had am azed the headm as ter was that not one pupil, parent or m em ber of s taff had s een fit to inform him prior to the c aretaker's fortuitous arrival. I pres s ed the buzzer on Mrs S avage's door and, m uc h to m y am us em ent, every light lit up. I knoc ked and entered. Mrs S avage s tood bes ide her des k, a c lutc h of papers in her hand. S he was , as us ual, im m ac ulately dres s ed. T hat m orning s he wore a c alf-length pleated blue s uit with diam ante buttons , c as hm ere jum per and s m art, im pres s ively pointed blac k s hoes . Her long nails were painted a pale pink and her fac e was heavily m ade up. T here was the fragranc e of expens ive perfum e in the air. One had to adm it it, the wom an looked s tylis h. S he glanc ed at m e im perious ly as I entered. 'I did as k you to wait, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid irritably. 'I've not quite finis hed reading though this "Health and S afety" doc um ent for Dr Gore yet. He is in urgent need of it this m orning before his m eeting.' 'A ll your lights lit up, Mrs S avage,' I told her. 'I beg your pardon?' s he as ked witheringly. 'On your door. A ll your little lights , they lit up at the s am e tim e.' 'W ell, that is m os t s trange,' s he s aid. S he looked down at her des k and s c rutinis ed a s m all box-like affair with buttons on the top. 'Not to s ay very c onfus ing,' I added. 'P ardon?' 'A ll your little lights , illum inating together.' 'I hope you were not heavy-handed with m y buzzer,' s he s aid. W hen I jus t s m iled, s he s at down and c ontinued. 'I s hall as k the janitor to take a look at it. Now then, Mr P hinn, as I s aid, you will have to wait a m om ent while I finis h reading this report. You m ay s it there,' s he s aid, indic ating the c hair whic h was plac ed s trategic ally in front of her des k. I did as I was bid, and gazed around m e. Her offic e was plus h, warm , fully c arpeted and equipped with c om fortable s tate-of-the-art furniture. T hrough the windows was a fine view of Fettles ham and beyond to the m oors and dis tant purple peaks . Mrs S avage put as ide the report, and s aid bris kly, 'Now, Mr P hinn, is there s om ething you want?' W hat a s tupid ques tion to as k, I thought. W ould I be there in front of her if I didn't want anything? 'Yes , there is s om ething I want,' I replied. T he c hair on whic h I was s itting was lower than her huge s wivel c hair, s o I found m ys elf s taring up into her eyes . 'I would like to have bac k a report whic h I s ent over on Friday, pleas e.' 'Like it bac k! ' s he exc laim ed, as if I had m ade s om e s ort of im proper s ugges tion. 'T hat is out of the ques tion.' I don't s ee why,' I s aid. 'It has n't been s ent out to the s c hool yet, has it?' 'A s a m atter of fac t, it has n't,' s he replied c urtly. 'County m ail, as I am s ure you are well aware, is des patc hed to s c hools on T ues day afternoons .' 'S o there s hould be no problem in m y having bac k the report then,' I s aid. 'A h, but there is , Mr P hinn,' s he s aid, c arefully folding her hands before her on the des k and pres enting m e with the all-too-fam iliar unpleas ant s m ile. 'Onc e I have rec eived the reports they c annot be returned.' 'W hy?' 'B ec aus e they c an't! ' s he s napped, a defens ive defianc e blazing in her eyes . 'B ut I c an't s ee why there s hould be a problem in m y as king for m y report bac k. I need to am end it and m ake c ertain im portant additions .' 'Mr P hinn,' s he s aid in an exaggeratedly patient tone of voic e, 'onc e a report is rec eived in this offic e, it is duplic ated. One c opy goes in Dr Gore's in-tray and then plac ed on file and the top c opy is des patc hed to the relevant s c hool. T here is no proc edure for the return of reports . If ins pec tors s tarted dem anding their reports bac k as s oon as they had c om pleted them , we would des c end into c haos and c onfus ion in no tim e. S o, it is quite out of the ques tion for m e to return your report.' 'In the three years I have been working as an ins pec tor, Mrs S avage,' I told her, trying to keep c alm , 'I have never reques ted the return of a s ingle report and I very m uc h doubt whether there will be another oc c as ion for a very long tim e. However, it is extrem ely im portant that I get this partic ular one bac k.' S he gave m e a look of flat finality. 'I am s orry, Mr P hinn, but there is not the s lightes t pos s ibility of m y s urrendering that report.' I drew a deep and exas perated breath. 'Is Dr Gore in?' I as ked. 'I don't s ee how pertinent that is ,' s he s aid. 'I would like to as k him if he would authoris e the return of the report.' 'Dr Gore is not available. He is extrem ely bus y, partic ularly on Mondays , and without an appointm ent -' 'T om orrow m orning?' 'I'm s orry?' 'Could I m ake an appointm ent to s ee him firs t thing tom orrow m orning?' Mrs S avage gave a s light s m ile and her eyes narrowed in trium ph. 'He is in London at a c onferenc e tom orrow m orning.' 'Mrs S avage,' I s aid, gripping the edge of her des k, 'are you going to let m e have that report bac k?' 'No, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid c alm ly. 'I am not. P roc edures m us t be followed and -' W ithout waiting to hear her out, I jum ped to m y feet and s trode for the door. I s lam m ed it behind m e, s etting off all three little lights in the proc es s . 'Dreadful wom an! ' I m uttered to m ys elf between gritted teeth, as I m arc hed down the c orridor. 'Dreadful wom an! ' B ac k in the ins pec tors ' offic e I im m ediately telephoned K ing Henry's College. I had dec ided to have a word with Mr Frobis her prior to his reading the dam ning report and was planning to s ugges t that I c all in at the s c hool to dis c us s it with him later that week. 'Good m orning, K ing Henry's College,' c am e a form al voic e down the line. 'Mrs W interton, s c hool s ec retary s peaking.' 'Oh, good m orning,' I replied, with a s inking feeling in m y s tom ac h. 'T his is Gervas e P hinn from the S c hool Ins pec tors ' Divis ion at County Hall.' 'Mr P hinn?' T here was a s harp intake of breath. 'Y es ,' I replied. 'May I s peak with Mr Frobis her, pleas e?' 'I am afraid not. Mr Frobis her is away today.' 'Have you any idea when he will be bac k?' 'No, I haven't.' 'W hat's wrong?' I as ked. 'Is he ill?' 'He would hardly be off s c hool if he were not ill,' c am e bac k the reply. 'It's the firs t oc c as ion in m y tim e at K ing Henry's that he has had tim e off. I believe he felt unwell after your vis it las t Friday.' 'Oh, I s ee.' My heart s ank down into m y s hoes . 'P erhaps when he does return, you would as k him to c ontac t m e at the E duc ation Offic e on extens ion 8989.' 'Y es , I c an do that, Mr P hinn. I s hall pas s on your m es s age to Mr Frobis her when he returns to s c hool.' 'T hank you,' I s aid, plac ing the telephone down on the rec eiver with a dull em pty ac he in the pit of m y s tom ac h. Now what was I going to do?

7 T he week ahead was s o bus y I did not have tim e to dwell on the fate of Mr Frobis her. T ues day found m e bright and early for a s hort ins pec tion of B utterthwaite, a s m all rural s c hool s et in the m os t m agnific ent c ountrys ide. T he two-room s c hoolhous e, s heltered by s yc am ores and anc ient oaks , s tood s quare and s olid at the head of the dale. From the c las s room window pale green pas tures , dotted with grazing s heep and c ris s -c ros s ed by grey s tone walls , rolled upwards to the great whalebac k hills and gloom y grey c louds in the dis tanc e. T he s c ene had a c old and eerie beauty about it. T he s c hool had no m ajor problem s and I was able to give the headteac her a pos itive evaluation. It was at the end of the day when I joined a s turdy-looking little boy with a healthy c om plexion who was s tanding at the c las s room window, hands deep in his poc kets , s urveying the vas t panoram a whic h s tretc hed out before him . He was about s ix or s even years old. 'J us t waiting for m i m am to c om e,' he told m e. 'S he's offen a bit late. S he 'as a lot to do on t'farm .' 'W ell, I'm s ure s he'll not be long,' I s aid. 'A ye, well, I'm not goin' anyweer.' 'B eautiful view,' I s aid. 'It's not bad, in't?' He dug his hands deeper into his poc kets . 'A utum n's c om in' on,' obs erved the c hild like a little old m an. 'Not be long afoor t'leaves s tart to fall and t'brac ken turns gowld. Looks like it's gunna be a bad winter an' all. W e 'ad a lot o's now las t year. Mi dad c an't be doin' wi' s now.' 'I'm not over keen,' I s aid. 'A nd what's your nam e?' 'A ndrew.' 'W ell, it's c ertainly a beautiful view, A ndrew,' I s aid. 'Y ou're a luc ky boy to live up here.' 'A ye, as I s aid, it's all reight. B etter in t's um m er than winter though, when tha c an get out and about. S tarts about this tim e o' year, does winter, when it gets c owld and wet and windy.' 'A nd what do you like bes t at s c hool?' I as ked. 'I likes to read and I likes num ber work. I'm good at s um s .' 'A re you?' I thought I'd tes t him on his arithm etic . 'How m any s heep c an you s ee in that field?' I as ked him . 'E h?' 'Can you tell m e how m any s heep you c an s ee in the field?' 'A ye, I c an.' 'W ell, how m any c an you s ee?' 'I c an s ee all on 'em ,' he replied. I c huc kled. 'No, I m eant how m any altogether. Could you c ount them for m e.' 'A ye, I s uppos e I c ould. I'm good at c ountin'.' 'P erhaps you'd like to s how m e,' I pers is ted. 'W ell, there's five S waledales and s ix Texels , three hybrids and four hoggits .' He paus ed for a m om ent. 'T hat m akes eighteen in total, dunt it? A nd don't as k m e to c ount t'rabbits bec aus e they waint s tay s till long enough for m e to tot 'em up.' A large and rus ty old Land-Rover pulled up outs ide the s c hool gate. 'Hey up, m i m am 's 'ere.' W ith a wave he s c urried off. 'T arra! ' I s aw him c lam ber up bes ide his m other, a large and c heerful-looking wom an with ruddy c heeks . S he gave him a great hug, s trapped him in his s eat and drove off. On the W ednes day I vis ited a very different kind of s c hool. It has always am azed m e how I c an be in a s m all idyllic plac e like B utterthwaite, nes tling in c lean gras s y fells , and an hour later be in the m iddle of urban Yorks hire, s taring up at the fores t of fac tory c him neys and breathing in the ac rid s m ell of indus try. Crom pton P rim ary S c hool was an enorm ous proliferating s truc ture on three levels . T he s c hool had originally been built in the late nineteenth c entury as a B oard s c hool to m eet the educ ational needs of c hildren of all ages : infants on the ground floor, juniors on the s ec ond and s eniors on the top. It now c atered for a large population of prim ary-aged c hildren who lived in the dark and brooding northern indus trial town of Crom pton. W ith its s hiny bric k walls , greas y grey s late roof, s m all s quare windows , towers and turrets and enveloping high blac k iron fenc e, it res em bled m ore of a pris on or a workhous e than a s c hool. It was a depres s ing s ight: this huge, ugly s truc ture s urrounded by row upon row of m ean bac k-to-bac k terrac ed hous ing, featureles s warehous es , rubbis h-s trewn was teland and walls defac ed with graffiti. T he teac hing s taff had endeavoured to m ake the interior of the m ons tros ity as c olourful and friendly as pos s ible and had dec orated the walls in the gloom y entranc e hall with pic tures of dram atic s eas c apes and idyllic rural lands c apes , vivid pos ters , well-m ounted c hildren's poem s and s tories and vas es of bright flowers but the plac e s till felt unpleas antly c old and daunting. P erhaps it was the high, flaking c eilings , the hard s hiny green tiles on the walls or the unpleas ant s m ell of s c hool dinners and c heap dis infec tant. W hatever it was , the plac e felt unwelc om ing. Mrs Gardiner, the headteac her, was a s tout wom an in her late fifties with a large bus t and rem arkably narrow wais t. S he wore a long blue s kirt and a plain white blous e buttoned up at the throat, and around her nec k hung a pair of gold half-m oon s pec tac les on a thin gold c hain. S he would not have appeared out of plac e in the s c hool when it had been built for s he looked for all the world like a V ic torian s c hoolm a'am . A fter a tour of the building, I joined Mrs Gardiner in her room to dis c us s the day's itinerary. I was there to watc h a range of les s ons , as s es s the c hildren on their reading, exam ine their writing and s tudy the tes t s c ores . For the firs t hour, I s at in the s taff room s c rutinis ing the s c hem es of work, the teac hers ' les s on plans and a s am ple of c hildren's work and after m orning break re-joined the headteac her in her room . Our c onvers ation about the deprivation and neglec t endem ic in Crom pton was interrupted by the nois e of exc ited c hatter. T hat s ignalled the pas s ing in the c orridor of an infant c las s on its way to the hall for P E . Mrs Gardiner ros e from her c hair in queenly fas hion, popped her s pec tac les on the end of her nos e, c las ped her hands in front and s tationed hers elf at the door. I joined her to watc h the c hildren's progres s . 'Quietly and quic kly, pleas e, c hildren,' c om m anded the headteac her, peering s everely over the top of her s pec tac les . 'Les s nois e and m ore has te.' One little s traggler in grubby white s horts and ves t lim ped into view. His head was held down s o far his c hin res ted on his c hes t. I notic ed the c hild's s kin looked unhealthily pale and his untidy, greas y hair was c learly unwas hed. 'In m y room , pleas e, Matty,' ordered Mrs Gardiner. 'W hat, m is s ?' as ked the c hild, looking up and produc ing an exaggeratedly innoc ent expres s ion. 'Y ou know what.' T he boy puffed out his c heeks and exhaled nois ily. 'I don't, m is s .' 'Y es , you do, and les s of the s ound effec ts ,' s aid the headteac her, s tanding bac k s o he c ould enter her room . W hen he was s tanding there and s taring up at her with large s ad eyes , s he held out the flat of her hand. 'Now c om e along, Matty, give it to m e.' 'W hat, m is s ?' 'Y ou know very well what. In your plim s oll.' 'T here's nothing in m y plim s oll,' the boy told her and looked down s heepis hly. 'Matthew Dic kins on,' s ighed the headteac her, 'rem ove your plim s oll now. Com e along. I haven't got all day.' T he c hild thought for a m om ent and then reluc tantly took off his s hoe to reveal a pound c oin s andwic hed between his big toe and the next. His feet c ould have done with a good s c rub. 'Give it to m e, pleas e,' the headteac her s aid. T he boy pluc ked the c oin from his toes and pas s ed it up gingerly to Mrs Gardiner who s c owled and tut-tutted. 'S o you had it after all? Do you know, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid, turning in m y direc tion, 'we have been s earc hing everywhere this m orning for this pound c oin.' 'I didn't m ean to take it, m is s ,' m oaned the c hild, his eyes brim m ing with tears and his bottom lip beginning to trem ble. 'Of c ours e you m eant to take it! ' exc laim ed Mrs Gardiner. 'It didn't fly into your plim s oll by m agic , did it?' 'I didn't m ean to take it,' pers is ted the c hild. 'I didn't m ean to take it.' 'Matty, how m any tim es have I heard that phras e: "I didn't m ean to"? I didn't m ean to hit him , I didn't m ean to break it, I didn't m ean to c all her thos e nam es , I didn't m ean to us e thos e naughty words . Y ou never m ean to, but you always s eem to do it, don't you?' 'I won't do it again, m is s .' 'A nd how m any tim es have I heard that phras e as well?' as ked the headteac her. T he boy, his head down again, began to s ob pathetic ally, his little s houlders heaving. He looked a pitiable s ight. 'W hat do we c all s om ebody who takes s om ething that does not belong to him ?' 'A m ugger, m is s ,' m oaned the c hild. 'A nd?' 'A burglar, m is s .' 'A nd?' 'A robber, m is s .' Mrs Gardiner s hot m e a knowing glanc e whic h s aid: 'He knows all the words .' T he headteac her fixed him with a s tony look. 'I was thinking of the word "thief". T hat's what s om ebody is c alled who takes s om ething that does not belong to him . A thief! ' 'I'm not a thief, m is s ,' wailed the c hild. 'Don't c all m e a thief, pleas e -' 'I'm afraid that is what you are, Matty, a thief. You c annot keep your hands off other people's property. You are always taking things whic h aren't yours . A ll m orning we've been looking for that c oin and all the tim e it was tuc ked away in your s hoe.' T he c hild s niffed dram atic ally. 'A nd you s ee this gentlem an here?' c ontinued Mrs Gardiner, turning again in m y direc tion. T he boy looked up, wiped away his tears with a grubby fis t, s niffed again nois ily and s tared like a frightened anim al in the headlight's glare. 'T his is Mr P hinn and he is a very, very im portant pers on. Mr P hinn is an ins pec tor.' T he boy howled pathetic ally. 'I won't do it again, m is s , I won't. I prom is e I won't do it again.' 'Fortunately for you,' s aid Mrs Gardiner, 'Mr P hinn is not a polic e ins pec tor. He's a s c hool ins pec tor. A nd when Mr P hinn c am e into our s c hool this m orning, he s aid what a lovely s c hool it was - c us hions in the Reading Corner and pic tures , double m ounted, on the walls . I wonder what Mr P hinn is thinking now.' 'I don't know,' wailed the c hild. 'No, neither do I,' s aid the headteac her. Mr P hinn was in ac tual fac t thinking: I do hope this interrogation will s top otherwis e Mr P hinn will be in floods of tears along with little Matty. 'A nd what have you got to s ay to Mr P hinn?' s aid the headteac her, looking down s everely on the little figure before her. 'W hat have you to s ay to him ?' T he c hild looked m e s traight in the eyes before replying: 'T ough s hit! ' 'Matty, Matty, Matty,' s ighed Mrs Gardiner later. 'W hatever am I going to do with him ? He s pends m ore tim e with Mis s P erc ival, the s oc ial worker, and Ms K invara, the educ ational ps yc hologis t, than he does with his m other. He's s uc h a s ad little boy. Can you im agine a c hild of his age having to get him s elf up in the m orning, c om e to s c hool without any breakfas t, unwas hed, in the s am e c oat he has had for two years and whic h is now far too s m all for him . A c hild s o s m elly that none of the other c hildren will s it near him or play with him , a c hild who watc hes all the other m um m ies c ollec t their c hildren from s c hool but who has to walk his lonely way hom e alone to a c old, em pty hous e. P oor c hild has n't a c hanc e, has he? Is it any wonder he s teals and s pits and gets into fights . He's never been s hown any different. Y ou know, Mr P hinn, s om e c hildren c om e from hom es where there is ac c eptable behaviour, pos itive attitudes to others , where there's laughter and love and lots of books . A nd then there are s om e c hildren, like Matty, who get nothing. Of c ours e, it's the s am e old s tory: teenage unm arried m um , poverty, inadequate parenting, abs entee father, s tring of s tepfathers . T here are drugs , of c ours e, and, I s us pec t, violenc e.' A s s he s poke, I thought of the words of Mrs Todd and her four boys , about how s om e c hildren have every advantage in life and others none at all, and I thought of A ndrew's m um , ros y-c heeked and s m iling, greeting him after s c hool with a hug. 'W hatever does one do about the Mattys of this world?' as ked the headteac her, s ighing. 'If I had a m agic wand, I'd wave it, Mrs Gardiner,' I told her, 'but I haven't. I s uppos e you jus t have to keep on trying.' T he headteac her s m iled and s hook her head. 'Do you know, on his firs t day here, when he was not m uc h m ore than five years old, I found Matty outs ide m y door with his pants around his ankles . He was jus t s tanding there as bold as bras s . "W ho wipes the ars es around here?" he as ked m e.' 'Oh, dear,' I s aid, attem pting to s uppres s a s m ile. 'In as s em bly one day, a c hild dropped a c oin whic h rolled down to the front of the hall and s pun round and round. Matty s hot out like a c has ed rabbit and s tam ped on it. "Foot off! " I s houted. "I s aw it firs t! " he s houted bac k, s natc hing it up and popping it in his poc ket. I dare not think what he im agined I s aid to him .' I was unable to prevent m ys elf from c huc kling out loud. 'T hen there was the tim e a s quirrel appeared in the tree outs ide his c las s room window. Mrs P rentic e, his teac her, was near enough to hear the c onvers ation he had with another c hild. "Oh look," s aid the other c hild to Matty, "there's a s quirrel up that tree. Let's tell Mrs P rentic e." "S hut yer gob," Matty had replied, "s he'll m ake us write about the bugger! " You know, Mr P hinn,' c ontinued Mrs Gardiner, 'if you didn't laugh, you'd weep. One day he c lim bed on top of the bus s helter and would not c om e down. W hen the s c hool c ros s ing patrol warden attem pted to get him down he urinated on him . I m ean, he's a full-tim e job. I've had to s us pend him from s c hool three tim es now. I hated having to do it, but I had no c hoic e. T he las t tim e was when Mrs P rentic e brought a s nail in from her garden. S he was getting the c hildren to think of words beginning with the letters "s qu" s o they c ould write a little poem together. T he c hildren s ugges ted "s quis hy" and "s quelc hy", "s quiggly" and "s quirm y". Matty c om es out to the front of the c las s room and brings the flat of his hand down on the poor c reature. "S quas hy," he announc es . W hatever will bec om e of him ?' W ell, I thought to m ys elf, there's little c hanc e of his bec om ing a doc tor, an arc hitec t, a linguis t or a fine artis t like Mrs T odd's talented s ons . P oor Matty will probably end up in pris on. 'I expec t you've tried to get through to his m other?' I s aid. 'Oh yes , of c ours e. S he's a s ad c as e, too. S he's a s im ple s oul and c an't c ope. I s uppos e s he tries her lim ited bes t but s he s eem s to attrac t the wors t s ort of m an, that's why Matty reac ts to m en as he does , in that aggres s ive, s us pic ious way. He's had s om e very rough treatm ent at the hands of his m other's boyfriends , I c an tell you. A nd, of c ours e, all the bad language he's heard c om es from them . I rem em ber when I helped his m other fill in the details on the form when Matty s tarted s c hool. S he's illiterate, you s ee. W hen we got to the s ec tion whic h as ked about the c hild's parents , s he told m e, "Father not yet known".' 'S oc ial s ervic es ?' 'Mis s P erc ival, the s oc ial worker, tries her bes t, of c ours e, but s he's over-s tretc hed and, believe it or not, there are c hildren wors e off than Matty. A nyway, we pers evere, Mr P hinn, we try our bes t and we c an't do m ore than that, c an we?' 'No,' I replied feebly, 'you c an't.' I did not m eet Matty again until after lunc h when I joined the infant c las s . S om etim es when I vis ited s c hools I would read the c hildren a s tory. T his was a good opportunity for m e to as s es s the c hildren's c onfidenc e and profic ienc y as s peakers and how attentive they were as lis teners . I c ould als o tes t them on their knowledge of words and s pellings . I gathered the s m all c hildren in a half c irc le around m e in the Reading Corner, the grandios e nam e for a s quare of c arpet, a c ouple of large c oloured c us hions and an eas y c hair. T he infants ' teac her, Mrs P rentic e, s at at the bac k. My s tory was about Lazy T om , a fat ginger c at with green eyes who s lept for m os t of the day but got up to all s orts of adventures by night. I had jus t s tarted the lively ac c ount when a large c hild with a plum p fac e, frizzy hair in huge bunc hes and great wide eyes interrupted loudly. 'W e 'ad a c at! ' s he s houted out. 'Did you?' I replied. "E were really, really 'orrible. 'E e killed birds .' 'I'm afraid all c ats do that,' I told her. I then endeavoured to c ontinue with the s tory. "Now, one bright s unny s um m er's day, Lazy T om --"' 'A nd 'e killed m ic e, an' all! ' the c hild s houted out. "E us ed to bring 'em in t'hous e and play wi' em on t'c arpet and then ett 'em up. 'E us ed to bite their 'eads off an' all and -' 'W hat's your nam e?' I as ked the c hild. 'T equila,' s he replied. 'I'm nam ed after a drink.' 'T equila S unris e,' I m urm ured. 'No,' pouted the c hild. 'T equila B raithwaite.' 'W ell, T equila,' I s aid, 'I want you to lis ten to the s tory very, very quietly. Y ou are s poiling it for everyone els e. Y ou c an tell m e all about -' 'B ut I were tellin' you about m i c at,' interrupted the girl. 'W ell tell m e later,' I s aid rather m ore s harply. 'Can't I tell you now?' 'No,' I replied, fixing her with the look only teac hers us e. I m anaged to c ontinue for a c ouple of pages , aware of Mrs P rentic e, with the folded arm s , s itting s m ugly at the bac k of the c las s room and c learly enjoying m y dis c om fiture. A nyone who thinks that a c las s of thirty lively infants is eas y to handle, I thought to m ys elf at that m om ent, s hould try reading them a s tory. T here is always a T equila. It was n't long before the c hild was s houting out again. 'Our c at were c alled Max and 'e were really, really s m elly and 'e s c ratc hed and his s ed an' all.' 'W ell, Lazy T om was not like that,' I told her. 'He was a nic e c at. "Now, one c old, dark night Lazy T om c rept down the garden path --" ' ''E were run ovver by a bus ,' announc ed T equila. 'W ho was ?' I as ked. 'Max.' 'W ell, I am very s orry to hear it. "Now, Lazy T om --" ' 'My granny was n't s orry,' s aid the c hild. 'S he s aid it were good riddanc e. My granny dribbles in 'er knic kers .' T he teac her c am e to m y aid. 'T equila! ' s he s napped. 'Lis ten to the s tory! ' I m anaged to finis h the ac c ount of Lazy T om . T he c hildren lis tened, even T equila, with m ouths open and eyes (as we s ay in Y orks hire) like c hapel hat pegs . Matty was the exc eption. He s at a little away from the other c hildren, a s m all pathetic figure with his head down. 'A nd here's a pic ture of Lazy T om ,' I s aid, turning the pic ture book around s o the c hildren c ould s ee the fat c at with the bright ginger fur and large green eyes . Matty glanc ed up. 'My gran's gorra fur c oat jus t like that,' rem arked T equila. 'B ut it 'ant gorra an 'ead on it.' 'Now c hildren,' I s aid, dec iding to ignore T equila's lates t s nippet, 'I would like to as k you a few ques tions about the s tory.' 'A s k m e! A s k m e! ' c ried T equila waving her hand in the air like a daffodil in the wind. 'I like ques tions .' 'No, I'm going to give s om eone els e a c hanc e,' I told her firm ly. 'You've had quite a lot to s ay this afternoon, Tequila, and now it's s om ebody els e's turn to s peak to m e. Now, jus t lis ten.' I s m iled in the direc tion of a s m all girl with long plaits and a s erious fac e who had lis tened to the s tory without a s ound or a m ovem ent. 'W hat about you?' I s aid. 'S he's s hy,' T equila told m e. 'S he dunt s ay owt.' 'S he m ight, given the c hanc e,' I s aid, breathing out heavily in exas peration. 'S he won't, s he's dead s hy.' 'W ell, s hall we as k her?' I as ked. 'I'm tellin' you, s he never s ays owt. S he never does ,' pers is ted the c hild. 'T equila! ' exhorted Mrs P rentic e. T he little girl at the c entre of the dis c us s ion looked down c oyly. 'W hat's your nam e?' I as ked her gently. ''E r nam e's E leanor,' T equila told m e, 'and s he's dead s hy. S he never s ays owt. I'll tell you about 'er.' 'No, you won't! ' I c ried.

'B ut s he won't s ay owt,' retorted the girl. T hen a loud and angry voic e c am e from the s ide of the room . It was Matty. 'For God's s ake, wom an, s hut yer gob! ' T equila looked s tartled and never s aid another word that les s on. W hen the bell rang for afternoon break, the c hildren c hanged into their outdoor s hoes , put on their c oats and gloves . Tequila, I notic ed, had rec overed and was regaling the teac her with a s tory about her m other hoovering up a m ous e the day before and then flus hing it down the toilet. S he wrapped hers elf up in a bright red c oat with m atc hing ac c es s ories . It looked as if butter wouldn't m elt in her m outh. W hen s he s aw m e s he m ade a beeline in m y direc tion. 'My teac her tells better s tories than you,' s he told m e bluntly. 'I din't like that s tory of yours about that c at.' 'I think it's playtim e, T equila,' I told her. 'W hy don't you go outs ide and get s om e fres h air.' 'I like m y teac her,' s he s aid. 'I heard 'er tellin' Mrs Gardiner I was "a right little m adam ".' W ith that s he s kipped off in the direc tion of the playground. Matty took off his s oiled plim s olls wearily and pulled on a pair of s c uffed s hoes and an old anorak with a ripped s leeve. P oor s ad little s c rap, I thought. A s I was heading for the s taff room with the teac her, I notic ed little E leanor hovering outs ide the c las s room door. 'Hello, E leanor,' I s aid c heerfully. 'Can I tell you s om ething?' s he whis pered. 'Of c ours e. W hat do you want to tell m e?' I as ked, bending down and looking into the s m all dark eyes . 'My A untie Rac hel's got s ixty-five ros es .' 'S ixty-five ros es ?' I s aid. 'S he's very luc ky your A untie Rac hel, is n't s he?' T he c hild s hook her head. 'No, s he's not. It's not nic e having s ixty-five ros es .' 'I thought your auntie would really like s o m any beautiful c oloured flowers with their lovely s m ell.' 'It's not nic e having s ixty-five ros es ,' s he pers is ted quietly. A nd then it dawned upon m e. Her auntie had jus t died. T hes e were the flowers at her funeral. 'Has your auntie died?' I as ked gently. 'No,' s aid the c hild in a voic e deep with indignation. 'S he's got s ixty-five ros es ! ' Mrs P rentic e, hearing the exc hange, and s eeing m y puzzlem ent and the c hild's , explained with a wry s m ile, 'S he m eans c ys tic fibros is , Mr P hinn.' Driving bac k to the offic e that afternoon, I began to think of the c hildren I had m et during the las t c ouple of weeks : J ohn and Rus s ell, Hugo and A lexander, K irit and Rois in. A ll of them , I gues s ed, c am e from hom es where there was jus tic e and hones ty, joy and grac e, c om pas s ion and love. A nd then there was Matty, that s ad little boy with the grubby fac e and the tight little m outh. I thought about our own unborn c hild, and prom is ed m ys elf that I would m ake him or her as happy a c hild as pos s ible. Chris tine and I had dis c us s ed nam es for our baby. If it were a boy, we thought we m ight c all him Matthew. T he nam e m eans Gift of God.

8 I arrived at the offic e one lunc htim e a week later in rather a s om bre m ood. I s till had little Matty on m y m ind and Mrs Gardiner's words 'W hatever will bec om e of him ?' kept interrupting m y thoughts . J us t what future lay in s tore for that s ad little boy? Mr Frobis her had als o reared his head again and the whole s orry bus ines s at K ing Henry's was s till preying on m y m ind. T he very las t thing I wanted to hear was J ulie's res ounding laughter c om ing down the s tairs . 'S om eone's in a good m ood,' I s aid gloom ily, as I entered the room . 'A nd s om eone's obvious ly not,' c am e bac k J ulie's quic k ripos te. S he was perc hed on the end of a des k in a ridic ulous ly s hort denim s kirt and tight-fitting pink jum per, s haring s om ething pres um ably very am us ing with Geraldine. 'W hy aren't you at W es t Challerton?' s he as ked bluntly. 'You're s uppos ed to be running a c ours e there this afternoon, aren't you?' 'Not until four o'c loc k,' I told her, heading for m y des k. 'It's an after-s c hool s es s ion. In any c as e, I'm not running the c ours e until next m onth. T his is a planning m eeting and it's the las t thing I want today, I c an tell you. Mr P ennington-S m ith is not m y favourite headteac her.' 'I s ym pathis e,' s aid Geraldine. It was a rare oc c urrenc e for the s uper-effic ient Dr Mullarkey to be in the offic e. S he would write up her reports at hom e, having put her young s on, J am ie, to bed, and s he tended to hide hers elf away in the S taff Developm ent Centre at lunc htim es in order to c atc h up with the offic e paperwork without interruptions . S he was a bit of a m ys tery was this pretty, s lender young wom an with raven-blac k hair and great blue eyes . W e knew very little about her pas t and I had to adm it that I, along with m y c olleagues , was intrigued to know who was the father of her c hild. S idney - of c ours e it had to be S idney - had onc e brought up the m atter of her little boy's parentage and rec eived s hort s hrift. 'My private life is m y private life, S idney,' Geraldine had told him s harply. 'I do not wis h to dis c us s it.' A nd that was the end of the m atter, but we s till longed to know. 'S o, what is your c ours e about?' Gerry now as ked m e. 'Language and learning,' I told her, pulling a fac e, 'and I am not looking forward to it at all.' 'I never feel c om fortable in Mr P ennington-S m ith's c om pany,' s he s aid. 'He's forever blowing his own trum pet and c ritic is ing the form er headteac her. Y ou s hould be flattered he's as ked you to run a c ours e for him , Gervas e. He does n't s trike m e as the s ort of m an to lis ten to advic e.' 'T ell S idney about it,' I s aid, rec alling his differenc e with the headm as ter about the plac e of art and des ign in the c urric ulum . 'W hat happened with S idney?' as ked Geraldine. 'Don't as k,' s aid J ulie. 'Get Mr Clam p on to that partic ular s ubjec t and you'll be here till the c ows c om e hom e.' 'J ulie's right, it's a long, long s tory,' I told her. 'A nyway, it's not Mr P ennington-S m ith who has as ked m e. It's a newly-appointed E nglis h teac her who has been given the res pons ibility of arranging s om e training for the s taff.' 'From what I have s een of the s c ienc e departm ent,' s aid Gerry, 'they need it. T o des c ribe them as m oribund would be an unders tatem ent. Mind you, Mr P ennington-S m ith is giving m ore tim e on the tim etable for the s c ienc es this year. T hat's one good thing.' I c ould have des c ribed S idney's reac tion to this initiative but I had a lot to do s o res is ted the tem ptation. 'W ell, I'd better get on with this little lot.' I pic ked up the heap of papers in m y in-tray. 'Oh, by the way, J ulie, I was hoping to have a word with Harold, if he's in.' I needed to talk to him about the Frobis her s ituation. 'He's been in s inc e s even this m orning,'J ulie inform ed m e. 'B ut he's not to be dis turbed this afternoon for at leas t another hour. He's had Dr Gore, Counc illor P eters on, Lord Marric k, various governors , everyone bar the Queen, on his phone all day. S om ething's going on at County Hall by the s ound of it. A ll very hus h-hus h.' 'S ounds intriguing,' I s aid. 'T here's been c om ings and goings all week,' s aid J ulie c on-s piratorially. 'I've never s een County Hall s o bus y. It's been a beehive of ac tivity. P eople buzzing about all over the plac e. T he las t tim e it was s o hec tic was when that headteac her ran off to S c arborough with the s c hool s ec retary and the s c hool fund. I was over in the P os t Room early yes terday m orning pic king up your m ail and that Derek - you know, the gangly lad with the s pec tac les and big ears - s aid he'd heard a real barny going on in Com m ittee Room T wo, Monday afternoon. Rais ed voic es , s lam m ing doors and banging on tables . A nd then Marlene on the s witc hboard s aid her hands were red raw putting c alls through to Dr Gore. Of c ours e, s he wouldn't tell us what about, but s om ething's afoot, you m ark m y words . T hen I s aw the S avage wom an - the Queen B ee hers elf - buzzing about like s om ebody not right in the head, s wirling about in her fanc y outfit, jangling her jewellery and pretending to be s om ebody im portant.' 'I gues s we'll hear s oon enough,' I s ighed, s tarting to s ort through the papers . 'A re you all right, Gervas e?' as ked Geraldine. 'Y es , I'm fine,' I replied. 'J us t a bit preoc c upied at the m om ent. W hat's this ?' I had c om e upon a bright yellow s heet of paper with 'URGE NT ' printed in large blac k bloc k c apitals at the top. 'T hat's what we were laughing at,' s aid Geraldine. 'It's Mrs S avage's lates t m em orandum . Y ou know s he's been nam ed as the 'Health and S afety' c ontac t in the E duc ation Departm ent?' 'Huh! ' grunted J ulie. 'W ell, s he s eem s to be taking her new role very s erious ly,' s aid Geraldine. 'S he'll be in c om bat outfit next,' added J ulie, 'going on c ours es for bom b dis pos al.' 'Lis ten to this .' Geraldine c leared her throat and read from her c opy of the yellow piec e of paper: '"Urgent! Health and S afety Circ ular Num ber 1: S us pic ious P ac kages . S hould you dis c over a pac kage, parc el, box, bundle, envelope, c ontainer or any other s us pec t rec eptac le" - Mrs S avage never us es one word when five will s uffic e - "with protruding wires and/or s tains and/or powdery s ubs tanc es and/or res idues whic h m ight be em itting unus ual nois es and/or has a s trange odour, do not attem pt to touc h, loos en, open, m ove, s hake or interfere with it, and under no c irc um s tanc es m us t it be im m ers ed in water. T his c ons titutes a s us pic ious pac kage." ' 'Y ou don't s ay,' s aid J ulie s arc as tic ally. 'I would never have gues s ed.' Geraldine read on. '"S hould you find s uc h an item , c ontac t the County Counc il Civil P rotec tion Unit (the CCCP U) im m ediately on extens ion 2222 and inform the des ignated Heath and S afety E duc ation Liais on Offic er, Mrs B . S avage, on extens ion 6666."' 'S he m us t think our brains are m ade of porridge,' s aid J ulie. S he turned to Gerry. 'I m ean, who in their right m ind is going to pic k up a tic king box that s m ells and s tart s haking it? J us t read him the next lot.' 'W ell,' s aid Gerry, 's he then has a s eries of other im portant piec es of inform ation. Lis ten to this . "T he County now has its own nuc lear fall-out s helter at Collington. T he fac ility, for us e by s enior c ounty c ounc il m em bers " - that pres um ably does n't inc lude us - "in the c as e of nuc lear holoc aus t or a national em ergenc y, is s ituated to the rear of Roper's S ales room , Furnival's Funeral P arlour and K wik Cutz Hairdres s ing S alon. T he offic ial opening by Counc illor George P eters on, Chair of the P lanning and Developm ent Control Com m ittee, s c heduled for Dec em ber, has been pos tponed for the tim e being due to vandals dam aging the s helter." It c ould s urvive a nuc lear attac k,' c huc kled Gerry, 'but not the ac tivities of the Collington vandals .' 'I rem em ber onc e,' s aid J ulie, laughing, 'when Mrs S avage s ent a s taffing bulletin round County Hall with an advert in it for a c hildren's c ros s ing patrol warden and added that applic ation form s were als o available in B raille.' S he looked pointedly in m y direc tion. 'A nd s peaking of s taffing bulletins , I notic e that Dr Y eats 's job is in the S taff V ac anc y B ulletin this week.' 'S o I believe,' I s aid c as ually. T he previous ac adem ic year Harold had inform ed the team of his intention to retire early. He had had enough, he told us . T he pres s ures of the job, the late nights , the inc reas ing workload were getting him down s o he had tendered his res ignation. S purred by m y c olleagues in the offic e, but not by Chris tine who thought I had quite enough on m y plate with a new wife and a new hous e, I had applied. I had not even been s hort-lis ted, never m ind interviewed. I had, of c ours e, been dis appointed but had been reas s ured by both Harold and Dr Gore that they would look favourably on an applic ation s om e tim e in the future when I had had m ore experienc e. A new S enior Ins pec tor, one S im on Carter, had been appointed. E ven before he had taken up the pos t he had m anaged to alienate everyone at County Hall with whom he c am e in c ontac t. T he initial m eetings ('to get to know eac h other') c onvinc ed us that he was a s ys tem s freak, a know-all and a s ingularly unpleas ant piec e of work. Mrs S avage, who initially had taken quite a s hine to him , very s oon c hanged her m ind when s he c am e under his s potlight and he began ques tioning her role, c ritic is ing her c orres pondenc e to s c hools and indic ating that he would be reviewing all her work. He als o inform ed her that s he would, if he had his way, be m oving out of her plus h offic e. T he c onfrontation between the two advers aries had reac hed a wonderfully dram atic c lim ax in the top c orridor of County Hall. E veryone was greatly relieved when Mr S im on Carter gave bac k-word and dec ided to take his c ons iderable expertis e and extens ive experienc e els ewhere. Harold had been prevailed upon to rem ain in pos t until his replac em ent, s till to be appointed, took up his pos ition whic h would be at the beginning of the S um m er term . T he advertis em ent for the pos ition was now in County Hall's S taff Vac anc y B ulletin and would be plac ed in the educ ational journals and news papers the following week. I therefore had a dec is ion to m ake and it was not an eas y one, not an eas y one at all. 'Y ou are going to apply, aren't you?' as ked J ulie, breaking into m y thoughts . 'I've not dec ided yet,' I replied. 'Y ou ought to,' s aid Gerry. 'I rec kon you'd have a really good c hanc e this tim e round.' 'W ell, we'll s ee,' I told her, s tarting to open m y letters . 'My, you are in a glum m ood this afternoon, aren't you,' obs erved J ulie. 'A s m y grandm a would s ay, you've got a fac e like a pan of fat.' 'J ulie,' I s aid s harply, 'I really do have to get on. I c am e in the offic e to reply to m y m ail, deal with the telephone m es s ages and finis h a report, not to dis c us s m y c areer.' 'Ooo, pardon m e! ' s he s aid, s liding off the des k. 'Look, I'm s orry if I s napped but I really do have a great deal to do this afternoon and I have to s ee Harold before I s et off for W es t Challerton.' 'W ell, don't take him any problem s ,'J ulie told m e. 'He's got enough of thos e on his plate to keep him oc c upied all term . T hurs day is his day for dealing with c om plaints . A s I s aid, he's been in s inc e s even and hard at it for m os t of the m orning with hardly tim e for a c up of c offee. He was s uppos ed to be s lowing down but s inc e he was as ked to s tay on it's as if he has another leas e of life. W ell, I'm going to the c anteen for m y lunc h and will try and find out what's going on from Doris . S he's s ure to have heard s om ething. S he hears everything from behind that s erving hatc h.' J ulie s traightened her m eagre s kirt, s tretc hed and headed for the door. 'Have there been any c alls for m e?' I as ked her before s he dis appeared. 'I was hoping that a Mr Frobis her from K ing Henry's m ight have got bac k to m e.' 'No, he has n't c alled. T here are about s ix or s even but only one urgent one,' s he told m e. 'Nothing from K ing Henry's , then?' 'No, but will you pleas e, pleas e ring that m an with the loud voic e. He keeps on c alling and he's nearly s ent m e dem ented bellowing down the line. I never got a word in, s o I don't know what his nam e is or what it was about. His telephone num ber is on your pad.' W ith that s he departed for the c anteen. 'Is there s om ething wrong?' as ked Geraldine when J ulie had c lattered down the s tairs on the abs urdly high-heeled s tiletto s hoes s he was fond of wearing. 'Y ou're not your us ual c heerful s elf today.' I told her about little Matty. 'T here are s om e c hildren,' I s aid, 'who will have every opportunity and advantage in life. T hey will be c heris hed, enc ouraged, s upported and loved as they grow up and there are others , like that little boy at Crom pton P rim ary S c hool, who has and will have prec ious little. I jus t find it s o very s ad and depres s ing, that's all. I've m et quite a few neglec ted c hildren in m y tim e. I jus t don't know why it's getting to m e now.' 'P erhaps it's bec aus e you're to be a father,' s aid Geraldine. 'B ec om ing a parent c hanges your whole outlook. It really does . T he things in life you thought were im portant - m oney, pos ition, job, s tatus - jus t pale into ins ignific anc e when you have a c hild. He or s he bec om es the c entre of your world.' 'For s om e parents , m aybe,' I s aid. 'I gues s not for Matty's . A s his headteac her pointed out, it's the s am e old s tory: unm arried m um , inadequate parenting, abs entee father -' I s topped m id-s entenc e and wis hed that the floor would open and s wallow m e up. 'I'm s orry, Geraldine, I didn't m ean -' S he laughed. 'Don't worry,' s he s aid. 'I'm us ed to it. In an ideal world a c hild s hould have a m other and a father, but s om etim es things don't work out. T hey didn't for m e.' 'Does J am ie s ee his father at all?' I as ked. 'No. Let's c hange the s ubjec t, s hall we?' s he replied quic kly. 'S o, what about Harold's job then? A re you going in for it?' 'P art of m e s ays , "Y es , it will be a trem endous c hallenge" and another part s ays , "Don't touc h it with a barge pole."' 'W ell, it's a dec is ion only you c an m ake,' s he s aid. 'Y es , I know.' W e both got on quietly with our work for the next hour or s o, whic h was thankfully c lear of interruptions . A t three o'c loc k I dec ided to s ee if Harold was free. I wanted to get his advic e about K ing Henry's College and have a c hat about the job at the s am e tim e. Harold's offic e was large but always appeared c luttered and c ram ped. A row of ugly olive-green m etal filing c abinets s tretc hed along one wall, a s et of heavy bookc as es , c ram m ed with box files , bulging folders , heavy tom es and thic k reports from the Minis try of E duc ation, filled the other. T here was a s quare of c arpet on the polis hed wooden floor and two hard-bac ked c hairs . Harold's anc ient oak des k, buried beneath a m ountain of paper, fac ed a s as h window through whic h one had an unins piring view of the rear of County Hall. It was a world away from the plus h offic e of Mrs S avage. 'Com e in! Com e in! ' exc laim ed Harold when I knoc ked and poked m y head around his door. 'Could I have a quic k word, Harold?' I as ked. 'Of c ours e, c om e in,' he replied, 'I wanted to s peak to you anyway. P ull up a c hair.' 'Y ou look bus y,' I s aid, nodding in the direc tion of his des k. 'A lways am , dear boy. E very T hurs day I s et the afternoon as ide to try and deal with all the problem s , c ontentious is s ues and c om plaints whic h dear Dr Gore, in his wis dom , s ends m y way. He has an unc anny habit of pas s ing the m os t awkward things on to m e to deal with.' Harold ges tured to a bright red folder before him . 'S till, I s houldn't c om plain. I s han't have this for m uc h longer.' 'S o there are a lot of c om plaints and problem s ?' I as ked. 'Oh yes , but that's part of the territory of the S enior Ins pec tor. For exam ple, there's a letter here from an irate parent c laim ing c om pens ation. A pparently his c hild's teac her s im ulated a volc anic eruption in c las s .' 'I'm s orry?' 'S he us ed health s alts , yellow powder paint and vinegar, and evidently c reated quite an im pres s ive dis play. Unfortunately, s he rather overdid the health s alts and powder paint and one c hild arrived hom e like the Gingerbread Man, a bright golden c olour from head to foot. T he father wants to know who is paying for the c leaning of the c hild's c lothes and what c om pens ation will be forthc om ing for the dis tres s c aus ed.' 'S illy m an,' I s aid. 'Maybe, but I have to deal with it. It s tarts as a s m all c om plaint, then the loc al news papers get hold of it and it's blown out of all proportion. T hen I've rec eived s everal letters about bullying whic h, of c ours e, have to be taken very s erious ly, a c ouple c onc erning exc luded pupils , and a letter from S is ter Clare of the S ac red Heart Convent, c om plaining, in no unc ertain term s , about the opening of a s ex s hop oppos ite the gates of the s c hool.' 'I never realis ed you had all this to do.' 'A nd there's m ore. T here's the headteac her who is c onvinc ed the head of the infant departm ent is a witc h and has put a c urs e on him and the Frenc h as s is tante who allegedly as s aulted a s ixth form s tudent with a banana.' 'A banana?' I repeated. 'S he was us ing s om e plas tic fruit as vis ual aids to get her c las s to prac tis e their Frenc h when a boy m ade s om e c lever c om m ent. T he as s is tante, who c an't have been m uc h older than the boy him s elf, evidently threw this banana at him whic h unfortunately hit the boy s m ac k between the eyes , knoc king off his glas s es , before rebounding to the teac her like a boom erang. From what the Chair of Governors s ays in his letter, Madem ois elle Regine c aught the m is s ile and rec eived a s tanding ovation from the c las s .' I s hook m y head and s m iled. 'I'm afraid the boy's parents did not s ee the funny s ide and have c ontac ted a s olic itor. I've jus t been s peaking to the headteac her.' 'I c an't s ee it s tanding up in c ourt,' I s aid. ' "A nd what was the offens ive weapon?" as ks the judge. "It was a banana, m y lord." ' 'It m ay s ound bizarre,' s aid Harold, 'but it has to be dealt with nevertheles s . T he hours I s pend dealing with s uc h is s ues .' He gave a great toothy s m ile. 'B ut not for m uc h longer. I s hall pas s on all s uc h m atters , with a light heart, to m y s uc c es s or.' 'I s ee,' I s aid thoughtfully. Harold as s um ed a grave expres s ion. 'Now, I'm pleas ed you popped in, Gervas e, bec aus e m y bigges t and m os t urgent problem this week c onc erns Hawks rill P rim ary S c hool.' 'Hawks rill's a s plendid s c hool,' I s aid. 'W hat's the problem ?' 'Y es , I am told it's a very good s c hool,' replied Harold, 'and the reports I have read bear that out. W ell, the fac t of the m atter is , it's c los ing.' 'Clos ing! ' I exc laim ed. 'I'm afraid s o. T here was an E duc ation S ub-Com m ittee m eeting earlier this week - went on until after eight in the evening. I had to s it outs ide in that draughty top c orridor of County Hall for nearly an hour waiting to be c alled. It was a terribly c ontentious m eeting, interm inable argum ents , ac rim onious exc hanges . A nyway, the long and s hort of it is that the S ub-Com m ittee has dec ided, reluc tantly I have to s ay, to c los e the s c hool next year.' 'W hy, for heaven's s ake?' 'W ell, I am s ure you are aware that there have to be big c uts in the educ ational budget. S m all s c hools like Hawks rill are not really viable. It's m uc h m ore c os t effec tive to have larger s c hools and c los e the ones in s om e of the very s m all villages . Hawks rill's building needs quite a deal of work on it. T he roof's leaking, the toilets require s om e refurbis hing and the perim eter fenc e needs repairing. T he headteac her, Mrs B eighton, and her as s is tant, Mrs B rown, have both indic ated that they are looking to retire in the near future s o there would be no redundanc ies or redeploym ents . A ll in all, it's quite fortuitous .' 'It's not fortuitous for the c hildren at the s c hool,' I protes ted. 'P erhaps not,' s aid Harold, rubbing his c hin, 'but they c an be bus s ed the few m iles to the neighbouring s c hool. Y ou s ee, Hawks rill only has about thirty c hildren and the village has an ageing and dec lining population.' 'Hang on, I live in Hawks rill,' I rem inded him . 'Y es , yes , I know, and that is why I wanted to have a quiet word with you prior to the news getting out.' 'I don't like the idea of this at all, Harold,' I s aid. 'I'm not at all keen on any c hild of m ine being bus s ed in and out of the village every day, partic ularly in winter along thos e twis ting, narrow roads . One of the reas ons Chris tine and I dec ided to live in Hawks rill was its lovely s c hool.' 'Y es , I quite unders tand that, but there is really no alternative. Counc illor P eters on and the E duc ation S ub-Com m ittee -' 'I m ight have gues s ed Counc illor P eters on would have a hand in it,' I interrupted. 'He and the S ub-Com m ittee,' c ontinued Harold, 'c ons idered all the options and reluc tantly dec ided that five s m all s c hools , inc luding Hawks rill, will be c los ed in the next ac adem ic year. I do s ee his point. It's jus t not ec onom ic to keep s uc h s m all village s c hools open with dwindling pupil populations and the ris ing c os ts of repair and m aintenanc e. I'm s orry, but there it is . T he headteac her and the Chair of Governors will be inform ing the parents by letter next Friday. T hen, no doubt, there will be a m eeting with the governors , parents and other interes ted parties , whic h is likely to be a very lively affair if previous m eetings of this nature are anything to go by. T his will be followed by the appeals proc edures , various further m eetings and pos s ibly a tribunal.' Harold s m iled. 'Your c hild m ight very well be at s ec ondary s c hool by the tim e Hawks rill ac tually c los es .' I didn't s m ile. I was feeling s hell-s hoc ked. 'A nyway, Gervas e, I jus t wanted you to know before it hits the papers . Now, was there s om ething you wanted to have a word with m e about?' 'No, nothing,' I s aid, getting up. 'Nothing at all.' I returned to the offic e even m ore depres s ed than before. Geraldine had gone but J ulie was there, plac ing m y typed letters on m y des k along with a m ug of c offee. I had to hand it to her. S he was an exc ellent s ec retary, and - des pite always being overworked - s he was highly effic ient and very organis ed. S he had had, for a few weeks the previous year, a c leric al as s is tant c alled Frank, a hard-working and good-natured young m an, but when he had been prom oted to work in Financ ial S ervic es , he had not been replac ed and s he was bac k holding the fort s ingle-handed. 'Have you rung that m an with the loud voic e yet?' J ulie as ked now. 'P ardon?' I as ked. 'T he m an with the loud voic e, who wants to s peak to you urgently. Have you phoned him ?' 'No.' 'P leas e would you do it? I'm s ic k of his bellowing down the phone at m e.' I s ighed heavily. 'A ll right. I'll do it now,' I s aid. I s tared at the notepad on m y des k. It's am azing, I thought to m ys elf, how life c an s uddenly c hange. One m inute everything is right with the world and the next it has all turned s our. Firs t Mr Frobis her, now Hawks rill s c hool c los ing. 'S o are you going to phone him ?' as ked J ulie. 'Y es , yes ,' I s napped. 'In a m inute.' 'Right,' s he s aid and left the offic e.

I dialled the num ber on the pad. 'Hello, m y nam e is Gervas e P hinn,' I s aid wearily when I heard the phone being pic ked up at the other end. 'I believe s om eone on this num ber wis hes to s peak to m e.' "E llo! 'E llo! Is that Mes ter P hinn?' c am e a thunderous voic e down the line. 'It is ,' I s aid, before holding the rec eiver at arm 's length. 'J ac ob B annis ter, 'ere. T ha m ight 'ave 'eard of us . "J B B 's Quality A nim al Feeds ".' 'No, I'm afraid not, Mr B annis ter,' I replied, before s tretc hing the rec eiver away from m y ear again. 'W e're very big in thes e parts ! ' he s houted. 'Y ou m ight 'ave c om e ac ros s our vans with the s logan "Rearing is as eas y as A B C, when you buy your feeds from J B B ".' 'W ell, I don't have m uc h c all for anim al feeds in m y line of work,' I told him . 'E h?' he bellowed. 'I s aid, I don't have - W hat c an I do for you, Mr B annis ter?' 'T ha're like t'S c arlet bloody P im pernel. I've been trying to s peak to you for a c ouple of weeks . "T hey s eek 'im 'ere, they s eek 'im theer." T ha're never in.' 'No, I s pend m os t of m y tim e in s c hools , Mr B annis ter,' I replied, rather piqued. 'T hat's what I do for a living.' 'E h?' 'I'm a s c hool ins pec tor. I try to get into s c hools as m uc h as pos s ible. Now, what c an I do for you?' 'I 'ear you do talks .' I s hould have gues s ed. He wanted m e to s peak at s om e dinner or other. S hortly after bec om ing a s c hool ins pec tor I had been dragooned into s peaking at a c harity event. T he very pers uas ive nun, S is ter B rendan, headteac her of S t B artholom ew's S c hool, had invited m e to give a light-hearted talk at the s c hool one evening to rais e m oney for dis advantaged c hildren. I had been delighted, and not a little s urpris ed, to dis c over that m y talk had been warm ly rec eived. S om e weeks later I had rec eived an invitation from the wonderfully nam ed and very form idable Mrs Cleaver-Canning - or, rather, the Honourable Mrs Cleaver-Canning - to s peak at her golf c lub Ladies ' Night dinner. I had been rec om m ended by a friend of hers who had heard m e s peak at s om e c harity evening. T hings had then s nowballed and I was s oon rec eiving invitations from Rotary Clubs and W om en's Ins titutes , S oroptom is t groups and Towns wom en's Guilds , and all m anner of lunc heon c lubs . T hes e organis ations generous ly s upplem ented the funds of s everal c hildren's c harities and m y rec eption had been, without exc eption, very pos itive. 'Y es , I do s peak at different func tions ,' I told Mr B annis ter. 'B ut at the m om ent -' 'A fter dinner talks like t'one m y brother's wife's 'eard you at, at t'Countrywom en's A s s oc iation Dinner in Ribs dyke a c ouple o'm onths bac k? S he s aid tha were a funny m an.' I was not feeling partic ularly 'funny' that afternoon. 'I've been c alled m any things , Mr B annis ter, but -' 'E h?' 'I am rather bus y at the m om ent,' I told him . 'E h?' 'I s aid I am bus y at the m om ent.' 'I don't want tha to s peak this very m inute, Mes ter P hinn,' he s aid. I s ighed. 'S o would you like m e to s peak at a func tion?' I as ked. 'E h?' 'I s aid, would you like m e to s peak at a dinner?' I was rais ing m y voic e an oc tave higher. 'A ye that's t'idea. A t Fettles ham Farm ers ' Club Dinner, Dec em ber the firs t. W e're rais in' m oney for T 'Children's S oc iety. For them kiddies what don't have m uc h goin' for 'em .' 'Y es , I know T he Children's S oc iety,' I s aid. 'It's a very worthy c harity.' 'W ell,' s houted the s peaker down the line, 'I know it's a fair bit off but I wants to get things s oarted. T o tell you t'truth we was let down by t's peaker we booked, c ric keter for Y orks hire in t'dim and dis tant pas t. Never 'eard of 'im m i's en. I'm a rugby union m an. A nyroad, how're tha fixed?' 'I s hould explain, Mr B annis ter -' 'J ac ob! ' 'I s hould explain, J ac ob, that I am not a c om edian. I don't tell blue jokes or anything like that.' 'Coours e tha dunt. W e don't want owt like that. W e want s om m at funny wi'out being m uc ky. A nd m y brother's s is ter s aid tha'd fit t'bill a treat.' 'It's Dec em ber the firs t, you s ay.' I flic ked through m y diary. I was free but felt like s aying no, s uc h was the m ood I was in. T hen I thought of Matty. He was the kind of c hild T he Children's S oc iety helped. 'A re tha s till theer?' roared the voic e down the line. 'Y es , I'm s till here,' I told him . 'S o, tha'll do it?' 'Y es ,' I replied, 'I'll do it.' 'Cham pion! ' he roared, nearly burs ting m y eardrum . 'W e m eet at T 'Marric k A rm s in Chapelwaters thwaite at s even prom pt. It's a bit diffic ult to find. Does tha know it?' 'Oh, yes , I know Chapelwaters thwaite,' I told him . 'I know it well.' T he very firs t s c hool I had vis ited when I had bec om e a s c hool ins pec tor had been at B ac kwaters thwaite in the neighbouring village. It had been the devil's own job to find and I had m otored at a s nail's s peed up hill and down dale, along twis ting narrow roads and through c ountles s villages whic h all looked the s am e, until I had finally arrived at T he Marric k A rm s in Chapelwaters thwaite. I had got to know the pub pretty well in the next half hour - I m us t have pas s ed it a good few tim es before I had finally found the right road to B ac kwaters thwaite. S o, yes , I knew well the venue for the farm ers ' dinner. 'Now, it's nowt fanc y,' s houted the s peaker down the line. 'T ha dunt need no "penguin s uit" or owt o' that s ooart.' 'Right,' I s aid. 'E e, I'm reight glad tha c an do it, Mes ter P hinn. My brother's wife, 'er what's in t' Ribs dyke Countrywom en's A s s oc iation, s aid tha were a real barrel of laughs .' 'Really,' I s ighed.

9 'I am not happy, Mr Clam p,' c om plained Connie. 'I'm not happy at all, having harem s of naked wom en c avorting about the plac e.' 'Connie,' replied S idney, his beard bris tling and his eyes flas hing wildly, 'there will be no harem s of naked wom en. T here will be one wom an, a s ingle pers on, an individual, and s he will be doing no c avorting, I c an as s ure you of that.' 'I don't c are how m any of them there are,' retorted the c aretaker of the S taff Developm ent Centre, 'I jus t do not like that s ort of thing going on on m y prem is es .' Connie, with her round, florid fac e, bright c opper-c oloured perm , brilliant pink nylon overall and the large m ultic oloured feather dus ter, whic h s he invariably wielded like a field m ars hal's baton, res em bled a huge, s avage and exotic bird of prey. S he was a blunt, hard-working and down-to-earth Y orks hire wom an and s he kept the prem is es s potles s but s he ruled the plac e with a rod of iron. Like m any Yorks hire folk, s he had s trong and unwavering views whic h s he was not afraid of expres s ing. S he was , as they s ay in Yorks hire 'not bac kwards in c om ing forwards '. S he had no c onc eption of rank or s tatus and treated everyone who entered her em pire exac tly the s am e, be he the exalted Minis ter of E duc ation or a m an to c lear the bloc ked drains . S he c ould be obs tinate, diffic ult and outs poken but Connie pos s es s ed a great im puls e for generos ity and an intens e pride in the work s he undertook. It was a warm Friday afternoon towards the end of S eptem ber and I was at the S taff Developm ent Centre, where all the teac hers ' c ours es were held, to direc t a c onferenc e on the teac hing of S hakes peare. I had arrived jus t after lunc h to find Connie and S idney in heated dis c us s ion in the entranc e hall. 'Look here, Connie,' s aid S idney, c hanging tac k and forc ing a s m ile, 'there will be nothing going on here. T he pers on, in the s ingular, is not a s tripteas e artis te, s he is a m odel, a profes s ional m odel, one who pos es tas tefully for artis ts to s ketc h, draw and paint.' 'B ut s he'll have nothing on,' pers is ted Connie. 'Of c ours e s he'll have nothing on,' s aid S idney, trying to c ontain his anger. 'S he is a nude. Nude m odels do not generally get wrapped up as if they're going on an A ntarc tic expedition. T hey pos e nude s o artis ts c an draw them . T he whole point is for the artis t to s ee them au naturel.' 'S ee them what?' as ked Connie. 'In the natural form , unenc um bered.' 'W ith nothing on,' pers is ted Connie. 'Y es , with nothing on.' 'W ell, I don't like it.' 'A nd as for c avorting about the plac e,' S idney explained, 's he will be s tatic , s tationary, im m obile, m otionles s , inert, s itting on a c hair.' 'S he c ould be s itting on top of the E iffel Tower for all I c are, Mr Clam p,' s aid Connie, flouris hing the feather dus ter like a wand. 'S he s till won't have a s titc h of c lothing on. S he'll be dis playing everything s he's got to the world and his wife. W ell, I think it's quite dis gus ting, grown m en ogling a young wom an and c alling it artific ated. I'm as broad-m inded as the next pers on and I like nic e pic tures but they have to leave s om ething to the im agination. Nobody c an ac c us e m e of being a P haris ee.' 'P hilis tine,' m urm ured S idney. 'A what?' 'It's P hilis tine, not P haris ee.' 'W hat is ?' 'Oh, never m ind,' s ighed S idney. 'A s I was s aying,' s aid Connie, 'I'm not one of thes e P haris ees , but I draw the line at naked wom en.' 'Y ou m ake it s ound like S odom and Gom orrah,' m um bled S idney. 'T here's no c all for that s ort of language, Mr Clam p, thank you very m uc h! ' S idney appealed to m e. 'Gervas e, pleas e try and enlighten Connie. I have an art c ours e c om ing up next week and I have a fem ale m odel for the teac hers to s ketc h as part of the figure-drawing works hop. Can you im pres s upon Connie here that I am not opening a S oho s trip joint, a bordello or a night c lub for lap danc ers ?' 'Connie,' 1 s aid, c om ing to S idney's defenc e, 'all the great artis ts painted and drew the naked fem ale form - P ic as s o, Matis s e, Goya, Leonardo da V inc i, Mic helangelo -' 'A ll foreigners ,' Connie interrupted. 'W ell, of c ours e, that does n't s urpris e m e one jot. B ut what I am s urpris ed at, Mr P hinn, is you taking Mr Clam p's s ide. Y ou, a newly m arried m an with a baby on the way and liking that s ort of thing.' 'W hat I'm trying to s ay,' I pers evered, 'is that there's really nothing dis gus ting about it.' 'W ell, you would s ay that,' replied Connie, in no way m ollified. 'You're a m an. You're all the s am e when it c om es to naked wom en. I've s een them on the bus es gawping at all thos e news paper pic tures of half-dres s ed wom en and looking at the top s helf in the news agents . I've s een m y Ted at it. You c an c all it tas teful if you like, Mr Clam p, and try to talk m e round until the c ows c om e hom e. I think a young wom an taking off all her c lothes for m en to have a good gander at is dis gus ting. Now, I'm broad-m inded to the point of obs c enity, but I draw the line at naked girls .' 'S he is not a girl,' groaned S idney. 'Miriam is getting on for s ixty, for goodnes s s ake.' 'Getting on for s ixty! ' gas ped Connie. 'W ell, s he ought to be as ham ed of hers elf, s tripping off for people at her age. S he ought to be going ballroom danc ing or flower arranging at her tim e of life, not taking her c lothes off for m en.' I left the two c om batants and headed for the room where m y c onferenc e was to take plac e. I wanted to c hec k that everything was ready. I had thirty s ec ondary s c hool E nglis h teac hers s igned up for the afternoon and had as ked the widely-publis hed S hakes pearean s c holar, Lawrenc e P arry-W ils on, to give a keynote talk to be followed by ques tions . It had taken s om e pers uading on m y part for P rofes s or P arry-W ils on to s peak bec aus e, as he had explained to m e, he was m as s ively bus y. I had felt pretty pleas ed with m ys elf when he had finally agreed. T hat feeling of elation s oon dis appeared when he opened his m outh. To s ay the lec ture was dry and unins piring would be an unders tatem ent. P rofes s or P arry-W ils on's books were c hallenging, inform ative and readable but his s kills as a public s peaker were c learly very lim ited. He m um bled his way through a prepared text in wearis om e detail, s huffling and s c ratc hing, grunting and grim ac ing. S om etim es he would s top, s tare vac antly out of the window and then nod as if s om e uns een pres enc e were s peaking to him . I c ould s ee the teac hers getting inc reas ingly res tles s . W hen it c am e to the ques tions , I was the only one who rais ed a hand and, before ans wering, the profes s or s c ratc hed his beard, grunted and nodded thoughtfully, before finally launc hing into an alm os t inc om prehens ible s erm on. I had allowed an hour for ques tions , hoping that a lively debate would ens ue, but by three-thirty it was c lear things were not going to im prove, s o I thanked the profes s or and c los ed the c ours e. I dreaded what the teac hers ' evaluation s heets would reveal. It would have been m uc h better, I thought to m ys elf as I headed for the kitc hen for a c up of tea, to have had Mr P urdey of K ing Henry's College s peaking to the teac hers about how he taught S hakes peare. It would have been m ore interes ting and a whole lot m ore us eful. 'Y ou've finis hed early,' s aid Connie, poking her head through the s erving hatc h in the kitc hen. 'I thought your c onferenc e was due to finis h at four.' 'It was , but we finis hed early.' 'I had to tell that m an with the fuzzy hair and the goatee beard, him what did the talk for you, not to bloc k m y entranc e at the front. He parked right in front of the red and yellow c ones . It's a health and s afety hazard parking there, as I'm always telling people. I m ight as well talk to m ys elf all the notic e they take. You would think that thes e c lever people c ould read a s im ple notic e, wouldn't you?' 'I'm afraid that was m y fault, Connie,' I told her, c om ing into the kitc hen. 'T he c ar park was full and I s aid it would be all right for him to leave his c ar there.' 'W ell, pleas e don't in future, Mr P hinn. If there was a fire in the c entre, a c ar parked there would be an im pedim ent.' I c hanged the s ubjec t. 'Has Mr Clam p gone?' 'He has , and I c an't s ay that I'm s orry either. Naked wom en indeed! ' Connie s hook her head and took two m ugs out of the c upboard. 'I'm going to have a word with Dr Yeats about this . It's not part of m y job des c ription, c atering for that s ort of thing. I m ean I've got all s orts of people in the Centre. T here's a W om en's Ins titute m eeting here next week on that day. It's enough to give the poor ladies heart attac ks , c onfronted with a naked wom an.' S he s pooned c offee into the m ugs and c lic ked on the kettle. 'In m y experienc e the W I are pretty broad-m inded, Connie,' I s aid. 'How would you know?' 'My m other was in the W I. It's not all jam and J erus alem you know.' 'W ell, the W I are not that broad-m inded, I c an tell you. You wouldn't get them taking their c lothes off and pos ing for anyone, not at their age anyway. A nd then there's that nun who's always in here on c ours es , that S is ter B renda. S uppos e s he's here when this m odel is s tripping off and s wanning around the plac e in her altogether.' 'I don't think an artis ts ' m odel is likely to be s wanning about the plac e in her birthday s uit, Connie,' I s aid. 'I gues s s he'll s tay put in the room .' 'Y es , well I don't like it and I've warned Mrs Os baldis ton already about Mr Clam p's s henanigans .' 'W ho's Mrs Os baldis ton?' I as ked. 'Didn't I s ay? S he's m y neighbour is Mrs Os baldis ton and I've as ked her to hold the fort while I'm off next week. S he c leans at the High S c hool. I've as ked her to c om e in. I s hall be away next T ues day for three days .' S he poured hot water into the two m ugs and reac hed for the m ilk jug. 'You don't have s ugar, do you?' 'No, thank you. Y ou're away next week, did you s ay?' 'Y es , I'll not be in for a few days .' 'S o you'll not be here for Mr Clam p's c ours e?' I as ked, pic king up a m ug. 'No, I won't and I'm glad I won't as well.' I c hanged the s ubjec t. 'A re you going on holiday?' 'Not at this tim e of year, I'm not,' s he told m e. 'I'm taking m y father's as hes to Dunkirk. It's s om ething I prom is ed him I would do, s c atter his as hes where s om e of his pals had been killed, but I've jus t not got around to doing it.' Connie's father had died the previous year. 'He lived in a c ellar for a week at Dunkirk, you know, with nothing but a pound of s ugar and rain water until he m anaged to get out on one of thos e little boats . Do you want a Garibaldi bis c uit?' 'No, thank you.' 'T hat's what brought his s tutter on, you know. He always s aid he wanted to res t with thos e pals of his who never m ade the journey hom e. He was a Dunkirk V eteran. I'm going with m y T ed to s c atter his as hes .' Connie s niffed and took a s ip of c offee. 'Oh, look at m e now, I'm getting all weepy.' 'He was a brave m an, Connie,' I s aid. 'He was the bes t father you c ould hope for, was Dad. Never rais ed a hand to m e, never us ed a bad word. He was always there for m e, he was . W hen you're growing up you s pend m os t of your tim e trying to get away from your parents , don't you? You always think you know better. You always think they're forever nagging you and not letting you do this , that and the other. W hen I was a girl, I had to tell Dad where I was going and who I was m eeting. I had to be in by a c ertain tim e and woe betide if I c am e in late. I c ouldn't wear this s kirt or that m ake-up.' S he took a s ip of c offee and s ighed. 'You never really apprec iate your parents when you're young. It's only when they're dead do you realis e you never c an get away from them . T hey're always going to be with you in your thoughts and in your m em ories . A nd when they're dead, you s top being a c hild, don't you?' S om etim es Connie uttered the m os t profound thoughts . 'Oh, I nearly forgot, you have a m es s age.' 'From whom ?' 'T hat Mrs S avage at County Hall. T he one who s ounds as if s he's got a potato s tuc k in her m outh. S he s aid to phone her im m ediately.' 'Now what does s he want?' I s ighed. 'I don't know, but s he s aid it was urgent. S he's got a tongue as s harp as a butc her's knife, that one, and a look as c old as a c em etery. I've had c onfrontations with that wom an before now, parking that fanc y red s ports c ar s o it bloc ks m y entranc e, flouting health and s afety regulations .' 'S he's been put in c harge of that at County Hall,' I told Connie. 'Of what?' 'Health and s afety.' 'W ell, s he's the las t one to tell people about health and s afety. Mind you, it does n't s urpris e m e at all. P eople without m uc h s ubs tanc e always ris e to the top like froth on the top of c offee.' S he s tared for a m om ent at the m ug s he was holding. 'I think this m ilk's off. A nyway, I wouldn't bother phoning now. Let her wait until Monday.' W hat an end to the week! It had been full of trials and tribulations and it would, no doubt, end on an ac rim onious note. Ignoring Connie's advic e, I headed for the offic e with a s inking heart to telephone Mrs S avage. 'Y ou wanted to s peak to m e, Mrs S avage?' I s aid rather form ally when I finally got through. 'Y es , I did,' s he replied ic ily. 'Dr Gore wis hes to s ee you.' 'W hen?' 'A t onc e.' 'I s ee.' I res is ted the urge to as k what about but I had a s hrewd idea it c onc erned the wretc hed report on K ing Henry's . 'W ell, I'll be there pres ently.' 'May I im pres s on you, Mr P hinn,' c ontinued Mrs S avage, 'that it is a m atter of utm os t urgenc y. I take it the c ours e you have pres um ably been direc ting has now finis hed?' 'Y es , it has .' 'W ell, in that c as e, c ould you return to County Hall A S A P ?' W ithout waiting for a reply s he c ontinued. 'I will inform Dr Gore that you are on your way.' W ith that s he thum ped down the phone. I s at bac k on the c hair, s ighed and s hook m y head. 'S he gets wors e,' I m urm ured to m ys elf. Connie appeared at the door with m y m ug of c offee. 'It's getting c old, this ,' s he s aid. 'S orry Connie,' I told her. 'I've got to go. I've got an appointm ent.' Dr Gore, Chief E duc ation Offic er for the County of Y orks hire, peered over the top of his s m all, gold-fram ed s pec tac les and then, res ting his hands on the large m ahogany des k in front of him , s m iled like a c ontented c at. 'A nd how are you, Gervas e?' he purred, s teepling his long fingers in front of him like a judge about to pas s s entenc e. 'I'm very well, Dr Gore, thank you,' I replied, attem pting to hide m y nervous nes s . 'Good, good,' the CE O m urm ured. He s tared for a m om ent and nodded thoughtfully. 'A nd how is that lovely wife of yours ? Is s he keeping well?' 'V ery well, thank you, Dr Gore,' I replied. 'A nd when is the baby due?' 'T he end of Marc h.' ' "W han that A prill with his s houres s oote, T he droghte of Marc h hath perc ed to the roote." ' 'E r, yes .' 'Chauc er.' 'Y es ,' I replied, wis hing he would get on with it and put m e out of m y m is ery. 'W ell,' he s aid after a weighty paus e, 'I'm s ure you are wondering why I s ent for you.' 'Y es , I w as wondering,' I replied, getting m ore and m ore tens e. 'I was s peaking to Mr Nels on las t week,' he s aid c as ually. Here we go, I thought. 'He's in the s am e Rotary Club as I am , you know. He's next year's Dis tric t Governor, as a m atter of fac t. Y ou're not a Rotarian are you, Gervas e?' 'No, no, I'm not.' 'W onderful organis ation is Rotary. "S ervic e before S elf" - that's our m otto. Do you know, we rais ed a thous and pounds las t year for a s ens ory garden at S t Catherine's S pec ial S c hool?' 'Really?' 'A nyway, Mr Nels on m entioned you had paid a vis it to K ing Henry's College rec ently.' 'Y es , I did,' I s aid. 'T ook a bit of a look at the E nglis h departm ent, I believe.' 'I did, yes .' 'I gather you were not im pres s ed with one partic ular teac her?' 'A bout the report, Dr Gore -' I s tarted to s ay. 'A h yes , the report,' s aid the CE O, res ting his elbows on the des k and peering at m e over the top of his s m all, gold-fram ed s pec tac les . 'Mr Nels on s aid that he had never read a report quite like it.' 'Oh dear,' I m um bled. 'I m us t s ay that when I read it, it was , how s hall we put it, rather direc t and to the point. Y ou c ertainly didn't pull any punc hes .' 'I would like to s ay, Dr Gore -' I began again. He leaned bac k in his c hair. 'B ut, of c ours e, that's as it s hould be.' I s tared at him . 'I beg your pardon?' 'I s aid, that's how it s hould be.' 'It is ?' 'W hy, yes . I want m y s c hool ins pec tors to give c lear, hones t and objec tive as s es s m ents of what they s ee. To tell m e how it is . You wouldn't be doing your job if all you did was s ay that everything was fine. I have to s ay that s om etim es the reports whic h land on m y des k are very bland. I rec all Mr Carter, who was to have taken over from Dr Y eats , was very c ritic al of the lac k of foc us and c lear is s ues for ac tion in s om e of the ins pec tors ' reports . Y es , I too thought your report on K ing Henry's was exc ellent. W ell done.' 'Mr Nels on thought it was an exc ellent report?' I as ked, dum bfounded. 'Y es , indeed. W e didn't, of c ours e, dis c us s the report at our Rotary m eeting. T hat would have been entirely inappropriate. Mr Nels on m erely m entioned it was extrem ely well written and to the point. J us t wanted to put in a good word on your behalf 'I s ee.' 'I did read through the report with the others this m orning and I m us t s ay you c ertainly have got to the nub of the problem in the E nglis h departm ent. I rang up Mr Nels on to have a word and from what I gather the head of departm ent at K ing Henry's , Mr Frobis her I believe his nam e is , has bec om e rather tired and a little c ynic al over the pas t few years , not inc om petent or anything like that but, to us e c om m on parlanc e, pas t his s ell-by-date. He c an, I believe, be quite diffic ult at tim es . W hen Mr Frobis her returned to s c hool las t week - evidently he had been away ill for the firs t tim e in living m em ory - the headm as ter as ked to s ee

him and it was not a very good-hum oured m eeting, by all ac c ounts . Mr Nels on was quite taken abac k with Mr Frobis her's reac tion but rather pleas ed with the outc om e. T he teac her c onc erned has dec ided to take early retirem ent whic h c ertainly s uits Mr Nels on. He c an now appoint s om eone m ore dynam ic and enthus ias tic .' 'I s ee,' I m um bled, hardly able to take in what I was hearing. 'S o, your report was extrem ely effec tive.' Dr Gore paus ed and s tared again over his glas s es . 'You know, Gervas e, when you applied for the S enior Ins pec tor's pos t las t year, one res ervation I did have about you was that you m ight not have the m ettle to be quite as c ritic al as s om etim es it is nec es s ary to be. You're an enthus ias tic enough young m an, you get on with people, have a pleas ant m anner, you are hard-working et c etera but I had that nagging doubt whether or not you c ould be forc eful enough to gras p the nettle. S om etim es one has to have a c ritic al word, s ay the unpalatable. I think you have proved that you c an.' 'T hank you, Dr Gore,' I s aid. I s uppos e I s hould have felt happy and relieved but for s om e reas on I felt even m ore depres s ed. My report had been the m eans to end a teac her's c areer. 'A nyhow,' c ontinued the CE O am iably and s m iling widely, 'it was n't about K ing Henry's that I wanted to s ee you.' 'No?' 'No,' he repeated. 'I have a little job for you.' 'Oh,' was all I c ould m us ter up to s ay. I was well ac quainted with Dr Gore's 'little jobs ', having been given quite a num ber of them in m y tim e with the E duc ation Departm ent, and they were never 'little'. 'Y ou are, no doubt, aware that I s it on s everal m ajor national c om m ittees and working parties . One is the "E uropean Interm ediary E duc ation Initiative" - the E IE I.' 'Oh,' I s aid. 'E IE I enables teac hers and ins pec tors to vis it other E uropean c ountries to s tudy and c om pare the educ ation s ys tem s there.' T his didn't s ound too bad, I thought to m ys elf and I quite c heered up. A week in S weden or S pain or a few days touring the s c hools in Germ any or Franc e s ounded a 'little job' I c ould very m uc h enjoy. 'Next term ,' c ontinued Dr Gore, 'there will be a s m all group of ins pec tors from various E uropean c ountries vis iting the c ounty to look at the educ ation we provide. It is all funded by the E IE I.' 'Oh,' I s aid again. It was beginning to s ound like the c horus to 'Old Mac donald had a Farm '. 'I would like you to arrange for our foreign c olleagues to vis it a num ber of different s c hools s o they m ay obs erve s om e les s ons and talk with teac hers .' My hopes of a c ontinental expedition were das hed. 'In addition, you c ould perhaps s et up a c ouple of m eetings at the S taff Developm ent Centre with invited headteac hers and governors to talk about the educ ation s ys tem over here and m aybe organis e an inform al evening rec eption. T hat s ort of thing. You c an enlis t the help of your c olleagues and, of c ours e, Mrs S avage will liais e with you and be on hand to deal with all the adm inis tration. T he E uropean ins pec tors will only be with us for a few days and s houldn't num ber m ore than three or four, s o it's not a m as s ive undertaking. Does that s ound reas onable?' 'Fine,' I replied, thinking of all the extra work it would involve jus t when I knew m y m ind would be on the forthc om ing happy event. Chris tine would need all the s upport and help I c ould give her in the m onths running up to the birth of the baby. 'Good, good,' m urm ured Dr Gore. 'W ell, thank you for c om ing to s ee m e.' Mrs S avage was waiting for m e in the outer offic e. S he had a s m ug expres s ion on her fac e. 'It's jus t as well you didn't get the report bac k after all, is n't it?' s he drawled, with ill-c onc ealed s atis fac tion. I arrived bac k at the ins pec tors ' offic e to find S idney regaling Gerry about Connie, the S taff Developm ent Centre and the nude m odel. His c olleague s at trapped behind her des k trying to look interes ted, her head c upped in her hands . No wonder Gerry avoided the offic e. S idney s tood before her waving his arm s about him , s pluttering and s haking his head, as if perform ing on a s tage. 'I intend to s peak to Harold about this ,' he was s aying. 'T he wom an is a c leaner, for goodnes s s ake, not a direc tor of s tudies . S he's there to polis h pipes , s c rub floors , dus t s helves , c lean toilets , not dic tate what goes on in the Centre or who vis its . S he's a m egalom aniac . S he's like Hitler in pink.' He paus ed in his diatribe to greet m e. 'Oh hello, Gervas e. You will, of c ours e, vouc h for what I s ay. I was telling Gerry here about the frac as at the S taff Developm ent Centre earlier this afternoon. I m erely as ked Connie to ens ure the heating was on next week. A s you know, s he us ually does n't s tart the boiler until m id-Novem ber and the firs t fros t. It was s o c old there las t year I c ould hear m y bones c lic king. I c ertainly don't want Miriam - s he's m y m odel by the way - turning blue. A nd what do I get? "Of c ours e, Mr Clam p. I'll m ake s ure it's nic e and warm for you. No problem at all." Do I hec k! I get ac c us ed of opening a brothel.' 'Oh c om e on, S idney,' I s aid, 'you know perfec tly well what Connie's like.' 'Y es , I do indeed know what Connie is like and I don't like it. It's about tim e s om ebody told the wom an what's what.' 'W hat?' as ked Gerry. 'W hat's what, that's what! ' exc laim ed S idney. 'S he needs hum ouring, that's all,' I s aid. 'Y ou jus t s eem to wind her up.' 'I wind her up,' he c ried. 'T he wom an does not need hum ouring, as you put it. S he needs s ac king, that's what s he needs ,' retorted S idney. 'S idney,' s aid Gerry gently, 'don't get in s uc h a s tate about it. T ry and keep c alm and don't get all worked up -' 'K eep c alm ! ' he exploded. 'I am inc apable of keeping c alm in the fac e of s uc h naked aggres s ion, if you will exc us e the unintended pun. I s hall s ee Harold about this . He needs to have a s trong word with her and rem ind her of her role. He needs to put the c ards on the table. S he either toes the line or s he goes . S he's getting far above her s tation. A u des s us de s a gare, as one m ight s ay.' 'I think poor Harold has quite enough on his plate at the m om ent,' I obs erved thoughtfully, 'without another problem winging its way. T he new term had barely s tarted and you began bom barding him with a problem . Firs t W es t Challerton High S c hool -' 'W hat's been the problem there?' as ked Gerry. 'I wis h s om eone would tell m e.' 'Don't as k! ' s napped S idney. 'T he s c ienc e and tec hnology departm ents c ertainly need s orting out,' s he s aid, 'but one thing I am pleas ed about is that the headm as ter has , at las t, agreed to alloc ate m ore tim e for phys ic s and c hem is try.' 'Don't get m e s tarted on that,' warned S idney. 'P leas e don't get m e s tarted on that.' 'Having s orted out the problem at W es t Challerton,' I c ontinued, 'you now want Harold to s ort out Connie. No wonder he's ready to retire.' 'Gervas e,' s aid S idney petulantly, 'that is Harold's job. He is , after all, the S enior Ins pec tor. He is paid m ore than we - pittanc e that it is - to deal with thes e problem s . It is his role to s ort things out. A s David's old W els h grandm other would no doubt be m oved to s ay: "He who c ollec ts the honey and the ros es m us t bear the s tings and the thorns ." S hould you take over from him , then you will be in the hot s eat, fire-fighting for us .' 'T hat's if I apply,' I s aid. 'Of c ours e you're going to apply. J us t bec aus e you were uns uc c es s ful before and didn't even get on the s hortlis t does n't m ean they'll rejec t you again.' S idney was nothing, if not blunt. 'T hey're probably thinking "better the devil you know" after the las t fias c o.' 'T hanks , S idney,' I s aid. 'Y ou have s uc h a way of m aking people feel better.' 'I agree with S idney,' s aid Gerry. 'I think you have a fair c hanc e of getting the job this tim e.' 'T hat's if I want it, this tim e,' I replied.

10 I s pent a fairly unc om fortable weekend with the knowledge that Hawks rill S c hool m ight be c los ing but dec ided I was not in a pos ition to pas s on the news whic h Harold had given m e in c onfidenc e. Chris tine and the village would know s oon enough. On the following T ues day, I arrived at the S taff Developm ent Centre early. I had rec eived a m em orandum from Mrs S avage the day before as king m e to m eet her to dis c us s the E IE I initiative. 'It is im perative,' s he had written, 'that we put our heads together A S A P s o that wheels c an be put in m otion.' S he had noted, having looked though m y engagem ent s heet for the week, that I was to vis it S t Helen's Churc h of E ngland P rim ary that m orning, a s c hool jus t a few m iles from the S DC and therefore, 'it would not greatly inc onvenienc e you to m eet m e at 0815'. S uc h was the tone of s harp c om m and in the m em o that I was m inded to ignore it or reply that I was far too bus y, but then I thought that it would be better to get the m eeting over and done with. In any c as e, I wanted to m ake a s tart on this 'little job'. T here was a lot to do. I replied, therefore, that I would be at the S DC at the des ignated tim e. It was a partic ularly c old m orning with what they c all in Yorks hire 'a c heeky wind' as I drove along the twis ting road from Hawks rill in the direc tion of Fettles ham . I s tared in wonderm ent at the endles s green and grey lands c ape wrinkled with roc ks whic h s tretc hed ahead of m e. T he views in the Dales are s tunning and never c eas e to fill m e with awe. I love travelling in this vas t s prawling c ounty with its s oft green valleys and s oaring fells , s tately c athedrals and dram atic ruins , dark pine fores ts and vas t, em pty m oors , flooded with bright purple heather in autum n. E very journey is different and every s c ene has a unique beauty. I s lowed down to watc h a form ation of gees e flying overhead, honking nois ily as they went. Off to their wintering grounds , no doubt. W hat a plac e to work, I thought. T he S taff Developm ent Centre was eerily quiet that m orning. I was us ed to Connie s tanding s entinel in the entranc e hall. S he would arrive well before anyone els e and watc h from her vantage point in the kitc hen, eagle-eyed and s tony-fac ed. T hen, at the s ight of vis itors , s he would s c urry down the c orridor to greet them . P erhaps 'greet' was not the m os t appropriate word to us e, for Connie would s tand there, s tatues que, feather dus ter pois ed, a s him m ering pink apparition with a fac ial expres s ion whic h c ould c urdle m ilk. I dis c overed Mrs Os baldis ton in the kitc hen s c rutinis ing a wodge of papers and s haking her head thoughtfully. S he was a lean, elderly wom an with tightly c urled, s ilver-white hair, a s m all thin-lipped m outh and an am azingly wrinkled in-drawn fac e. A m ulti-c oloured apron, depic ting s om e large and gaudy flowers , enveloped her s m all fram e. S he was wearing s lippers . A s I approac hed I detec ted a c urious ly pervas ive s m ell of m othballs . 'Good m orning,' I s aid c heerfully. 'Y ou m us t be Mrs Os baldis ton.' S he looked up from the papers and m aintained a c arefully blank expres s ion. 'A re you Mr Cam p?' 'No, I'm Gervas e P hinn, the E nglis h ins pec tor,' I replied. 'Oh, I was expec ting Mr Cam p, the art m an.' 'It's Clam p.' 'W hat is ?' 'T he nam e of the art m an. It's Clam p, not Cam p. He'll be along later.' 'I thought he was Cam p.' 'No, no, Clam p, as in c las p, vic e, fas tener.' 'A nd who did you s ay you were?' s he as ked, s c rewing up her eyes . 'Mr P hinn,' I replied, extending a hand. S he rais ed a s m all c old hand and plac ed it in m ine as a queen m ight to a c ourtier. 'Good m orning,' s he s aid, with an anxious look. 'T here's been telephone c alls for you this m orning. I arrived well before eight o'c loc k and that phone s tarted ringing as s oon as I'd got through the door and it's never s topped. I thought I was here to c lean, not ans wer c alls .' I explained to Mrs Os baldis ton that J ulie, the ins pec tors ' s ec retary, would phone through the num bers if there was anything urgent or as k c allers to get in touc h with m e direc tly at the Centre. 'I've m ade a note of them on a pad in the offic e. I've not touc hed a thing yet, and it's already five m inutes pas t.' 'W ell, I'll go and m ake the c alls and leave you to it. Have you everything you need?' I s hould not have as ked. T he old lady huffed, tutted and then s hook her head. 'E e, what I need, young m an, is a c up of s trong s weet tea and a long s it down, that's what I need.' T he poor wom an looked as if the troubles of the world had been heaped on her s m all round s houlders . T hen s he turned her attention to the papers . 'T here's nothing on this lis t what Connie left m e about ans wering telephone c alls or about any E nglis h c ours es here today. S he never s aid you was to be in this m orning, jus t that Mr Cam p. I don't think I c ould c ope with anything els e, I really don't.' 'No, there is n't an E nglis h c ours e on today,' I reas s ured her. 'I'm here to m eet s om eone.' 'Connie's left this lis t of ins truc tions as long as m y arm ,' Mrs Os baldis ton told m e, with the expres s ion of one s uffering from c hronic c ons tipation. 'I jus t don't know where to begin, I really don't. T here's s o m uc h to do. I m ean, I only s aid I'd do a bit of dus ting and wiping and keep things tidy and s hip-s hape to help out, but m y goodnes s jus t look what s he's left m e.' S he prodded the papers . 'I c lean at the High S c hool but I'm not expec ted to do all this . It'd take an arm y of c leaners to do this little lot that Connie's left m e.' S he flouris hed the lis t. 'I c an't s tretc h, what with m y bad bac k. T here's no ques tion of m y bending what with the legs , and I c an't over-exert m ys elf what with m y angina. Connie knows I'm allergic to bleac h, and floor polis h brings m e out in a ras h.' P erhaps s he is in the wrong line of work, I thought to m ys elf. 'I really wouldn't worry, Mrs Os baldis ton,' I told her, 'Connie's a perfec tionis t.' 'Tell m e about it,' s he s aid. 'I lives next door to her. Ins ide her hous e is like B uc kingham P alac e and her garden, you s hould s ee her garden! T he lawn's like a billiard table. T here's not a flower out of plac e and s he us es s c is s ors on the V irginia c reeper.' Mrs Os baldis ton c learly looked dis tres s ed. 'T hen there's this Mr Cam p. Connie's warned m e about him and his goings -on. S he s aid he wants watc hing.' 'Oh, he's not that bad.' 'Connie s ays he leaves a trail of debris and des truc tion wherever he goes and now he's got thes e naked wom en c om ing in. I really wis h I hadn't agreed to do this but Connie's s o... what's the word?' 'P ers uas ive,' I s ugges ted. 'E xac tly.' 'W ell, there are no naked ladies , jus t one artis ts ' m odel and when Mr Clam p arrives , whic h s houldn't be too long now, he will deal with that.' I s m iled and patted her arm . 'S o don't worry, Mrs Os baldis ton. Y ou m ake yours elf that nic e s trong c up of tea.' T his propos al res ulted in a rem arkable trans form ation, as I gues s ed it would. T he old lady vis ibly m ellowed and a s m all s m ile c am e to her thin lips . It is a known fac t that in Yorks hire, whatever the problem , the pros pec t of a c up of tea s eem s to have a rem arkably c alm ing effec t. One m ight be dragged out from under the wheels of a ten-ton juggernaut, em erge half-drowned from a flas h flood, s tagger s m ouldering from a burning building, and a c up of tea is the firs t thing s ugges ted. 'T hat would be very ac c eptable,' s aid Mrs Os baldis ton, s ounding a whole lot happier. 'I think I m ight jus t do that.' 'B y the way, have you put the water urn on yet?' I as ked. 'No, I haven't.' S he glanc ed at the papers in her hand. 'Oh dear, here it is , look, at the top of Connie's "T o Do Lis t". I s hould have put the water on at eight. S he s ays here that people will be wanting a c up of tea or c offee when they arrive. Firs t thing s he as ks m e to do and I gets it wrong.' 'W ell, you put out the c ups and s auc ers in the lounge area and I'll s ee to the water before I m ake the c alls and don't worry, Mrs Os baldis ton, everything will be fine.' S he left the kitc hen, m um bling to hers elf, to arrange the c roc kery in the lounge. I filled the huge m etal urn with water, s witc hed it on and headed for the offic e. On the des k was a lis t of s c rawled num bers : no nam e, no m es s age, jus t the num bers . Connie's prac tic e was to write neatly and legibly in the 'Mes s ages ' book the date, the tim e of the c all, the num ber, the s peaker's nam e, the s ubjec t of the c all and any other relevant details . S he was m etic ulous . A ll I had before m e now was a lis t of five or s ix s c ribbled num bers , s om e of whic h were indec ipherable. I s ighed. Com e bac k Connie, I s aid to m ys elf as I rang the firs t num ber. 'Hello,' c am e a voic e down the line. 'Oh hello, m y nam e is Gervas e P hinn. I believe s om eone on your num ber has telephoned to s peak to m e this m orning.' 'Do you know who?' 'I don't, I'm afraid.' 'W as it Mis s P rec ious , the headteac her?' 'A h, is that B arton Moor P aroc hial S c hool?' I as ked. 'It is .' 'Y es , it m us t have been Mis s P rec ious .' A m om ent later the headteac her's voic e c am e on the line. 'Hello, Mr P hinn. T his is a pleas ant s urpris e.' 'Did you not c all m e this m orning, Mis s P rec ious ?' 'No, I've only jus t arrived.' 'I think s om eone c alled m e from your num ber,' I told her. 'T here's a m ys tery,' s he s aid. 'I wonder if it was Mrs Durdon.' I doubted very m uc h if it would be Mis s P rec ious 's as s is tant, a s m all m ous y, nervous little wom an into whom I s eem ed, for s om e reas on, to put the fear of God. It would be hardly likely that s he would be c ontac ting m e early in the m orning. 'I'll as k her if you like,' s aid Mis s P rec ious . 'S he's only down the c orridor.' 'No, no, don't bother her, Mis s P rec ious . I'm s ure the pers on will ring bac k.' 'No trouble at all, Mr P hinn,' s aid the headteac her, and I heard the line go dead. A m om ent later Mrs Durdon was on the phone. 'Hello, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid in a hus hed voic e. 'I did as k the rec eptionis t who ans wered the phone at your end to tell you to as k for m e pers onally. I didn't want Mis s P rec ious to know.' 'Oh, I'm s orry,' I tried to explain, 'but -' 'It's jus t that Mis s P rec ious retires at the end of the term and I wanted to invite you to a s urpris e party. I hope s he does n't s us pec t. Y ou m ight have let the c at out of the bag. I s hall have to think of s om e good exc us e for you ringing m e.' 'W ell, I'd love to c om e, Mrs Durdon, if I am not bus y.' 'B es t thing for m e to do is put it in a letter. It was m os t unfortunate Mis s P rec ious ans wering the phone. I don't think your rec eptionis t s ounded very "with it" this m orning.' T he tell-tale c lic k-c lac k of high heels on the hard c orridor floor outs ide the offic e heralded the arrival of m y unwelc om e vis itor. 'I m us t go, Mrs Durdon,' I s aid. 'I look forward to hearing from you.' 'Good m orning,' I heard Mrs S avage s ay beyond the offic e door. T hen I heard the m oros e tones of Mrs Os baldis ton reply, 'Mornin'.' T hen s he added, 'Y ou're early, aren't you?' I was tem pted to s how m ys elf at this point but res is ted the tem ptation, dec iding ins tead to eaves drop. T his was going to prove interes ting. 'I beg your pardon,' replied Mrs S avage c urtly. 'I s aid you're early,' s aid Mrs O. 'No, I am not,' c am e another c urt reply. 'In fac t, I am prom pt. I am always prom pt. I s aid I would be here at eight-fifteen and if I am not m is taken that is the exac t tim e on the c loc k in the c orridor.' Mrs Os baldis ton did not s ound in the leas t daunted by the c old and s uperior voic e. 'W ell, I was told you'd be here at nine. I've got it on m y lis t.' 'A nd who are you, m ay I as k?' T he s harp, authoritative tone was c learly los t on Connie's loc um . 'Mrs Os baldis ton.' 'A nd?' 'A nd what?' 'W hat is your func tion here?' 'My func tion?' 'W hat exac tly do you do?' 'W hat do I do?' 'A m I in an ec ho c ham ber?' as ked Mrs S avage. 'Y ou're in the S taff Developm ent Centre,' Mrs Os baldis ton inform ed her. 'A nd for your inform ation, I'm filling in for Connie, the c aretaker. S he's in Franc e s c attering her father's as hes at Dunkirk.' 'Really,' s aid Mrs S avage wearily. 'I'm holding the fort, s o to s peak, doing a bit of c leaning and that.' 'I s ee.' 'A nd, as I s aid, I have it on m y lis t that you'd be arriving at nine. A nyway, now you're here, do you want to s ee where you'll be? Y ou're in the end room where it's warm er and m ore private. I've pulled the c urtains as well. I'm s ure you don't want people gawping at you through the window. I'll put a c us hion on your c hair before you s tart pos ing. I s uppos e being s at on a hard wooden c hair for any length of tim e m us t be unc om fortable on the nether regions , s pec ially if you have no c lothes on.' 'No c lothes on! ' s napped Mrs S avage. 'W hatever are you talking about?' I nearly betrayed m y pres enc e with a burs t of laughter but s m ac ked m y hand over m y m outh. Mrs Os baldis ton had m is taken Mrs S avage for the nude m odel. I c ould vis ualis e the s c arlet lips purs ing in dis approval and the dark eyes flas hing. 'W ell, I was told you'd be taking your c lothes off for Mr Cam p,' c ontinued Mrs Os baldis ton blithely. 'T aking m y c lothes off for Mr Cam p! ' repeated Mrs S avage. 'W hat are you talking about? Have I entered B edlam ?' 'No, I've jus t told you, this is the S taff Developm ent Centre,' replied Mrs Os baldis ton c alm ly. 'Do you know who I am ?' as ked Mrs S avage. 'T he nude m odel, aren't you?' 'T he w hat?' s pluttered Mrs S avage. I am Mrs S avage, P ers onal A s s is tant to Dr Gore.' 'W ho's he?' 'Dr Gore is the Chief E duc ation Offic er.' 'Can't s ay I've heard of him ,' replied the old lady. 'A ny road up, I thought you was the nude m odel.' 'Do I look like a nude m odel?' as ked an exas perated Mrs S avage. 'I don't really know,' s aid Mrs Os baldis ton s tubbornly, 'I've never s een one.' A t this point I dec ided to enter the fray and em erged from the offic e, attem pting to keep a s traight fac e. 'Good m orning, Mrs S avage,' I s aid s erious ly. Mrs S avage was attired in a s c arlet jac ket with s ilver buttons , tight-fitting blac k s kirt, long dangling s ilver earrings and high-heeled patent leather s hoes . It was very like the ens em ble J ulie had worn s om e weeks earlier when s he had attended the Health and S afety m eeting. I told m ys elf not to s m irk. 'Mr P hinn,' s aid Mrs S avage, drawing her lips together into a thin line. 'T his ... this pers on here, was under the m is apprehens ion that I was s om e s ort of... of m odel.' 'Really?' I s aid innoc ently. 'I thought I had entered B edlam .' T he eyes in the s tony vis age glowed with anger, the m outh rem ained s m all and tight. 'I told her it was the S taff Developm ent Centre,' s aid Mrs Os baldis ton blithely, m ore to hers elf than to m e. 'I don't know where s he wants to be. A nyway, you'll have to deal with her, Mr Flynn. I've got lots to do.' W ith that s he waddled off, m um bling to hers elf, 'A nd I never did get that c up of tea.' T he m eeting with Mrs S avage was s hort but not very s weet. I agreed to nom inate c ertain s c hools for the foreign ins pec tors to vis it, prepare s om e briefing papers and devis e a program m e, and Mrs S avage announc ed that s he would organis e the travel and ac c om m odation, and deal with the adm inis tration. 'A nd do keep m e up to s peed, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid in a hec toring tone, as s he ros e to leave. 'I will arrange a further m utually-c onvenient m eeting to tie up any loos e ends jus t prior to their vis it.' 'V ery well,' I replied, wis hing s he would high-tail it off bac k to County Hall. 'A nd I s hall be having a word with Dr Gore about nude m odels at the S taff Developm ent Centre,' s he told m e. 'I as s um e it is Mr Clam p who has organis ed this . T he m an gets wors e.' I did not reply. 'I am afraid that partic ular c olleague of yours s ails very c los e to the wind at tim es . B y the way, I s inc erely hope that the c aretaker - that Connie wom an - has c leared things before having tim e off to vis it Franc e. S he c an't jus t take leave when s he wants to and it is up to the offic e to arrange replac em ents , not her. P ers onnel will be inform ed of this as s oon as I get bac k to County Hall. I s hall als o be having words with Dr Gore about that other c leaning wom an whom I enc ountered this m orning.' S he s troked out the c reas es in her s kirt. 'Now, I m us t return to the offic e,' s he c ontinued, as if I were deliberately detaining her. 'Dr Gore is finalis ing arrangem ents for the appointm ent of Dr Yeats 's s uc c es s or this m orning, s pec ific ally organis ing the interview panel...' S he paus ed, as if awaiting s om e s ort of res pons e, but I rem ained tight-lipped. 'T he advertis em ent for the pos t of S enior Ins pec tor has gone into the S taff V ac anc y B ulletin and will appear in the educ ational journals and national news papers later this week.' 'Y es , I believe s o,' I s aid. W hen Mrs S avage had departed, I bade m y farewell to a haras s ed-looking Mrs O. and headed for the door. In the c ar park I dis c overed a lean wom an c lim bing from an extrem ely old and rus ty c ar. S he c ould have been Mrs Os baldis ton's twin s is ter: tightly c urled greying hair, s m all down-turned m outh and an am azingly wrinkled in-drawn fac e. 'E xc us e m e,' s he s aid, 'is this the S taff Developm ent Centre?' 'It is ,' I replied. 'I'm here to s ee Mr Clam p,' s he told m e. 'I'm the artis ts ' m odel.' * S t Helen's Churc h of E ngland P rim ary S c hool was a s quare, grey-s tone building with s m all m ullioned windows , a very im pres s ive heavy oak door and a high s hiny s late roof. It had been built in the latter part of the eighteenth c entury following the beques t of a wealthy landowner for the educ ation of his es tate workers . It was s till c ontinuing to s erve the two villages of K irby Crighton and K irby Rus ton and a few c hildren from the nearby United S tates A ir Forc e B as e at Ribbon B ank. It was s ituated in a very advantaged area, and hous es in the vic inity were am ongs t the m os t expens ive in this part of the c ounty. I had vis ited the s c hool during m y firs t year on s uc h a nippy day as this when the trees were beginning to turn golden. Mrs S m ith, the headteac her, greeted m e at the door and us hered m e into a s m all entranc e area. On the wall was a large photograph of all the teac hers , governors and anc illary s taff and another of all the c hildren, s itting up s m artly and s m iling. T here were als o pic tures and prints , potted plants and a large driedflower arrangem ent. It looked a c heerful and welc om ing plac e. 'It's very nic e to s ee you again, Mr P hinn,' s aid Mrs S m ith. 'Y ou'll find we've grown quite a bit s inc e your las t vis it to us .' I had given the s c hool a very good report on the las t oc c as ion and this vis it was to s ee if s tandards in E nglis h had rem ained high. 'A vic tim of your own s uc c es s , eh, Mrs S m ith?' I s ugges ted. 'One would like to think s o,' s aid the headteac her, c learly pleas ed with the flattering obs ervation, 'but it is rather the res ult of m ore A m eric an c hildren attending from the bas e. A nd there are s om e real c harac ters , as you'll s ee.'

On the way to the infant c las s room , the headteac her told m e about E s ther. 'S he's a rem arkable little reader and has the voc abulary of an eleven-year-old. I've never c om e ac ros s a c hild like this in all m y teac hing c areer. S he's jus t s ix and c an read virtually anything. Her m other's a lec turer at York, her father a c olonel in the United S tates A ir Forc e whic h, of c ours e, explains a lot. E s ther is an am azingly fluent reader. S he s im ply devours books . I s hould s ay s he is gifted.' 'W hat do her parents s ay?' I as ked. 'Oh, they s eem to take it in their s tride. T hey c ertainly don't want her pres s uris ed or anything like that, no s pec ial provis ion or extra work and, I m us t s ay, I have to agree with them . Y oung c hildren s hould enjoy their c hildhood. I do, however, need s om e advic e on s uitable reading m aterial for s uc h a gifted infant.' I have, on m y vis its to s c hools , very often been told by a teac her that a partic ular c hild is 'gifted' or 'talented' or 'exc eptionally able'. It generally turns out that the c hild is bright or intelligent but it is rare to find a c hild of really outs tanding ability. E ins teins are extrem ely rare. I s m iled at Mrs S m ith and s aid I would s peak to the c hild and hear her read. I dis c overed little E s ther at a table s plas hing paint on a large s heet of pale yellow paper. T here were three egg-s haped, bright-pink figures c om plete with long s pindly arm s , fingers like twigs and great beam ing s m iles . T hey all had tum m y buttons . 'Hello,' I s aid. 'Oh, hi! ' the c hild replied, looking up and s m iling. 'How are you?' 'I'm fine,' I s aid, leaning over and s c rutinis ing her pic ture. 'Now, who are thes e interes ting people in your painting?' I as ked. 'T here's Daddy,' E s ther told m e, ges turing with the brus h. 'He's the large one. T here's Mom m y in a bikini and the little one is m e. W e're on the beac h in Franc e. Have you been to Franc e?' 'Y es , I have.' 'It's c ool, is n't it?' 'It is . Now, Mrs S m ith tells m e you are a very good reader,' I s aid. 'Y eah, that's m e! ' s he replied. 'W ould you like to read to m e?' 'I don't m ind,' s he s aid. 'I like reading. I've got lots and lots of books at hom e. I have m y own library in m y bedroom .' 'I'm s ure you have,' I s aid, 'and I bet you have a bedtim e s tory every night, as well.' 'I s ure do. Daddy and Mom m y take it in turns . I have a c uddle and a bedtim e s tory every night. Daddy s ays s tories are very good for c hildren.' 'Y our daddy's right,' I told her. 'Daddies always are,' s he told m e pertly. 'S hall I get m y reading book?' 'No,' I s aid, 'perhaps you would read one of m ine.' I c arry around with m e in m y briefc as e various doc um ents and books : s tandardis ed reading tes ts , non-verbal as s es s m ent s heets , word rec ognition lis ts and als o a few books of varying diffic ulty to tes t c hildren's reading ability. T he reading s c hem e books , with whic h the c hildren learn to read, have fam iliar c harac ters and s ettings , repeated words and phras es to give c hildren c onfidenc e and s ec urity but the good reader is able to be c onfronted with an unknown text and read and unders tand it. I pres ented little E s ther with a book s uitable for a s even-year-old. 'Gee, this looks too eas y,' s he told m e, exam ining the c over and flic king through the pages . 'E as y?' I repeated. 'I'll be very s urpris ed if you m anage to read it.' T he c hild gave m e the kind of m elanc holy s m ile a Mother S uperior m ight bes tow upon an erring novic e. 'May I have a harder book, pleas e?' 'OK ,' I s aid, reac hing into m y briefc as e, 'let's try another one.' I s elec ted a book s uitable for a nine-year-old. 'Now, if you find this a bit hard, don't worry. It's a book for older c hildren.' S he s tared at the c over for a m om ent. 'S hall I s tart from the beginning?' s he as ked. 'Y es pleas e.' 'From the very beginning?' 'From the very beginning,' I repeated. T he c hild tilted her head, s tared at the large blac k s tam ped box at the very top of the c over page and then s he read: 'P roperty of Y orks hire County Counc il, E duc ation Departm ent, S c hools Ins pec torate.' I s hook m y head and s m iled. Later that m orning in the nurs ery, I m et Im ogen. S he looked like a c hina doll: golden c urls , huge blue eyes and a flawles s c om plexion. T he c hild was c as ually turning the pages of an early reader. E ac h page dis played an objec t: hous e, bus , c hurc h, m an, wom an, dog, c ar and s o on, beneath whic h was the word in large blac k letters . 'W ill you read it to m e, pleas e?' s he as ked. 'Of c ours e,' I replied, am us ed by s uc h a c onfident little thing. 'I know s om e words ,' s he told m e, 'but I c an't read all of them .' W hen I had finis hed reading the book, I wrote the word 'c ar' on a piec e of paper. 'Now,' I s aid, 'c an you read this word for m e?' 'No, I c an't,' s he replied. 'It begins with a c urly "c ". W ould you like to have a gues s ?' 'No, I c an't read it.' 'Let m e give you a c lue,' I s aid. 'Y our daddy or m um m y m ight drive you to s c hool in it in the m orning.' 'Oh yes ! ' s he c ried. 'Y ou m ean W olls W oyc e.' T he older c hildren were in the m iddle of a dis c us s ion when I joined them after m orning break. T heir teac her, a round, jolly wom an in an orange s kirt, white blous e and green c ardigan, greeted m e warm ly and us hered m e to a c hair at the front of the c las s room . S he looked like a walking flag of Ireland. 'Now, this is Mr P hinn,' s he told the c hildren. 'S om e of you m ight rem em ber him . He vis ited us before, didn't you Mr P hinn?' 'Y es . I did,' I s aid. 'A nd Mr P hinn is very interes ted in c hildren's reading and writing, aren't you, Mr P hinn?' 'Y es , I am ,' I s aid. 'A nd today we are writing a c autionary tale. W e've been reading a s tory about c hildren who did not do as they were told and as a res ult they all c am e to a s tic ky end.' 'Oh dear,' I s aid. 'T here's the dis obedient boy who did not lis ten to his father and played with fire, des pite being warned of the danger, and ended up burnt to a c ris p. It's not as grues om e as it s ounds ,' s he s aid in an undertone. 'Nothing gratuitous . A nd the girl who ignored her m other's c autions and played near the river bank. S he c am e to a watery end. T hen there was the boy who went near the railway line, ignoring all the s igns that warned him of danger. T hat had a very unfortunate outc om e. Now, before they write their own c autionary tales , Mr P hinn, the c hildren are des c ribing an ac c ident they have had bec aus e they have not taken s uffic ient c are. Let m e s ee. K aty, would you like to tell our im portant vis itor what you are going to be writing about?' 'Mis s ,' s aid the girl enthus ias tic ally, 'when I was little we went to a pizza parlour and I s niffed s om e pepper up m y nos e.' T here was a ripple of laughter. 'It's not funny, c hildren,' s aid the teac her s erious ly. 'T he pepper m ight have gone right down into K aty's lungs . It c ould have been very s erious , c ouldn't it, Mr P hinn?' 'It c ould,' I agreed. 'A nd I c ouldn't s top s neezing and c oughing,' c ontinued the c hild. 'My m um went bananas -' 'I think a better phras e to us e would be "bec am e very angry", K aty,' interrupted the teac her. 'S he bec am e very angry and s aid what a s tupid thing to do. W e had to go hom e and m y dad s aid I would not do that in a hurry again.' 'I think your father was right, K aty,' s aid the teac her. 'Don't you, Mr P hinn?' 'Y es , I do,' I agreed. 'David, what about your ac c ident?' as ked the teac her, looking at a s m all boy near the front. 'Mis s , I s wallowed a m arble,' s aid the boy. T here was another ripple of laughter. 'Good grac ious ! ' exc laim ed the teac her. 'T hat was a very s illy thing to do and c ould have been very dangerous . Y ou c ould have c hoked to death, c ouldn't he, Mr P hinn?' 'Y es , indeed,' I s aid. 'Mis s , I was pretending it was a s weet,' c ontinued the boy, 'and I popped it in m y m outh and s wallowed it by m is take. I s tarted to c ough and m y m um had to s m as h m e on the bac k really really hard and -' 'I think a better phras e to us e would be "s trike firm ly" or "s lap heavily", David,' interrupted the teac her. 'S o, m y m um had to s trike m e firm ly on the bac k but it wouldn't c om e up, s o I had to go to hos pital. T he doc tor gave m y m um this paper to get s om e m edic ine -' 'P res c ription,' interpos ed the teac her. 'Gave m um this pres c ription to get s om e m edic ine and it was thic k and pink and had a horrible tas te and -' 'T as ted unpleas ant,' prom pted the teac her. 'A nd it c am e in a big brown bottle and I had to take it for a c ouple of days and then one m orning I was s itting on the toilet and there was a "c lunk" and I s houted down the s tairs , "I've got m y m arble bac k! " and m y dad s aid, "Leave it alone! " and -' 'My goodnes s , David,' s aid the teac her hurriedly, 'what a to-do. I think we've heard quite enough about your unfortunate ac c ident, haven't we, Mr P hinn?' 'Y es ,' I s aid, wis hing that the teac her would not c ons tantly keep referring to m e for an opinion. 'J us t one m ore, before we get on with our writing,' s aid the teac her, turning to a large, friendly-looking boy with c ropped hair and large ears . 'S c ott's from A m eric a, Mr P hinn. A ll the way from T ennes s ee. Com e along then, S c ott, what was your ac c ident?' 'W ell, I gues s the wors t ac c ident I had was when I was riding m y bike on the s idewalk -' 'W e c all it "pavem ent" over here, S c ott,' interrupted the teac her. 'Oh yeah, pavem ent, and I c am e to this s lope. I was pedalling s o fas t I jus t c ould not s top. I put on m y brakes but I c arried on s kidding and s liding until I hit one of thos e great white things in the m iddle of the road -' 'B ollards ,' s aid the teac her. 'S traight up, m is s ,' s aid the boy. 'I really did.'

11 One of the great joys of being a s c hool ins pec tor is the opportunity of m eeting s o m any interes ting, unus ual and s om etim es truly bizarre people. A nd Mr Mauric e Hinderwell was c ertainly out of the ordinary. I arrived at S c arthorpe P rim ary S c hool one bright Oc tober m orning to undertake a half-day's follow-up ins pec tion. T he s m all s c hool was a s quat, dark, s tone building, tuc ked away behind the anc ient Norm an c hurc h of S t Mary the V irgin and partially hidden by a towering oak tree with branc hes reac hing s kywards like huge arm s . It had been in the s pring of the previous year when I had vis ited S c arthorpe, to take a look at the s tandards in reading and writing, and I had found it to be well m anaged and held in high regard by the parents . T here had been a few rec om m endations for im provem ent and I was here that m orning to s ee that they had been im plem ented. A s I approac hed the building now, I rec alled the firs t oc c as ion, eighteen m onths before, when I had driven up that twis ting ribbon of road. B ehind m e, in the valley bottom , rolling green pas tureland dotted with ewes and their lam bs c ontentedly c ropping the lus h gras s had s tretc hed into the dis tanc e. B efore m e an oc ean of bright green young brac ken had s wept upwards to a belt of dark pines and beyond to the roc ky tops . A bove, the s ky had been a vas t c anopy of pale blue. It had taken m y breath away. W hat a glorious plac e to live, I had thought. It was a very different s c ene now, but equally m agnific ent in its autum nal beauty. T hrough the winds c reen appeared a s ea of fading c rim s on heather, the brac ken on the s lopes was beginning to turn and the dis tant felltops were now a pale purple in the early m orning light. I had been driving behind a trac tor for s om e tim e along the narrowes t of winding roads s o arrived a little later than expec ted. T he bell had jus t gone for the s tart of the s c hool day s o, not wis hing to interrupt the headteac her's as s em bly, I headed for the s taff room . T here I dis c overed, s itting in the c orner of the room , a s m all m an in an inc redibly c reas ed grey s uit, loud s potted bow tie and s m all s hiny boots . He was balanc ing a c up of s team ing c offee on the arm of the c hair with one hand and holding a c hoc olate bis c uit in the other. 'Nic e m orning,' he s aid jovially as I entered. 'Y es , indeed,' I replied. 'It's beautiful.' T o m y am azem ent, the little m an pos ted the whole of the c hoc olate bis c uit into his m outh and c runc hed nois ily. Clearly he was not a m em ber of s taff or he would have been at as s em bly. I dec ided he was a governor or a book repres entative or, m ore likely, here to s ee about the plum bing or elec tric s . 'I'm here to ins pec t the s c hool,' I told him . 'I'm a s c hool ins pec tor.' 'Oh, yes ?' he s aid, s pitting bits of bis c uit in m y direc tion. I s at in the c hair the furthes t away. He m ade no effort to introduc e him s elf. 'I wouldn't like that job m ys elf, s c hool ins pec tor,' he told m e, poking a bit of irritating bis c uit from his teeth. 'Too m uc h like hard work. A ll thos e reports to write. A nd I don't s uppos e you're very popular either. Having you in m us t be like a vis it from the K GB .' He took a great gulp of c offee and s m ac ked his lips nois ily. 'No, it c an't be the m os t rewarding line of work, s c hool ins pec ting.' B efore I c ould enlighten him , he c ontinued. 'Mos t im portant thing for m e is job s atis fac tion, not m oney or s tatus or long holidays or fanc y perks . It's job s atis fac tion, knowing that you're doing s om ething worthwhile and c hallenging, a s ervic e to the c om m unity. T hat's s om ething I'v e got - job s atis fac tion. I love m y work. I get up every m orning raring to go. Y es , it's a very s atis fying job, is m ine.' I jus t had to as k: 'A nd what exac tly do you do?' 'Have a gues s .' 'I haven't a c lue.' 'I'm the County P es t Control Offic er.' 'Indeed - I s ee.' 'I deal with pes ts : c oc kroac hes , bed bugs , rabbits , m oles , bats , was ps , ants , beetles , fleas , every pes t im aginable. You nam e it, I kill it. You'll be pleas ed to hear we don't inc lude hum an pes ts like VAT offic ers , traffic wardens , tax inves tigators and' - he paus ed for effec t - 's c hool ins pec tors are not on the lis t either.' He c huc kled at his own wittic is m . 'S o the s c hool has a problem with pes ts , has it?' I as ked. 'Rats .' 'I beg your pardon?' 'T he s c hool. T hey've got rats . Quite a c olony by all ac c ounts .' I s huddered and pulled a fac e. 'Got a c all las t week from Mrs Fox, the headteac her. Now there's a nam e to c onjure with. I do foxes as well, you know. A nyway, s he was in a right old s tate. Got her knic kers in a real twis t. T eac hers were in a panic , dinner ladies hys teric al, governors c om plaining, c aretaker a nervous wrec k and parents up in arm s . Rats have this effec t on people, you know. K iddies weren't worried, to be hones t. Quite took to the rats they did, watc hing their antic s . T hey were running up and down the c lim bing fram e in the playground, s c uttling ac ros s the wall, burrowing behind the bic yc le s heds , paddling in the was te near the dus tbins . T he rats , I m ean, not the kiddies .' 'It s ounds frightful,' I s aid. I m us t have looked horrified. 'No, no, as I s aid to Mrs Fox, I'll s oon have the little buggers - pardon m y Frenc h. Mind you, s om e of them aren't s o little. T hey c an grow to the s ize of s m all rabbits , you know. I do rabbits as well. Your average rat grows to about a foot long and weighs about a pound, but you c an get them m uc h bigger. B ut I'll get them , oh yes , I'll get them .' He took another gulp of c offee before adding philos ophic ally, 'I always do.' 'W ell, good luc k,' I s aid. 'It's not a m atter of luc k,' m y s harp-fac ed c om panion inform ed m e. 'It's m ore a m atter of s kill, intuition and know-how. You have to apprec iate how rats think, you s ee.' He s ipped the rem ains of his c offee and then lic ked his lips . W ith his dark inquis itive eyes , s m all pointed nos e, protuberant white teeth and glos s y blac k hair bris tling on his s c alp, he did not look s o dis s im ilar to the c reatures he had c om e to exterm inate. 'I think of all the pes ts I have to deal with, the rat is m y favourite. He's a m uc h greater c hallenge than your average c oc kroac h or your bed bug.' 'Really?' 'A ye, it's a fac t. Intelligent c reatures are rats , but I have to exterm inate them . It's a fac t of life. T hey're walking death traps ,' he told m e, his s m all eyes flas hing. 'One in ten rats c arries Leptos pira whic h c an lead to a whole hos t of very unpleas ant dis eas es , you know.' 'Y ou don't s ay.' 'Oh, but I do,' he c huc kled to him s elf. 'P enic illin and other antibiotic s have little effec t agains t c aus al organis m s like leptos piros is . One of the varieties of leptos piros is is c alled W eil's dis eas e, you know. V ery unpleas ant that. V ery unpleas ant indeed. It's c ontrac ted through rats ' urine, often found in c ontam inated water, and is fatal m ore often than not. T hey urinate eighty tim es a day, do rats . Did you know that?' 'No, I didn't,' I replied weakly. 'A nd one in ten rats c arries Lis teria and Cry ptos poridium, both of whic h c an c aus e very nas ty gas troenteritis . You c ould be ill for weeks with a dos e of that, on and off the lavatory, diarrhoea, vom iting, s pitting blood. Of c ours e, hum ans are very s us c eptible to all thes e horrible dis eas es that this partic ular rodent c an c arry. Rat urine and faec es get everywhere. T hey like to live near kitc hens where there's lots of c ooked food and was te. I don't eat out m uc h m ys elf. I s ay, is there another c hoc olate diges tive going?' 'Oh dear,' I s ighed. T he m orning had s tarted off s o well. I was beginning to feel quite ill. 'One in twenty-five rats has the Hantavirus antibody,' he c ontinued blithely, 'whic h c an lead to haem orrhagic fever. T hat's a killer. Onc e you've got that, m ate, you're danc ing with death.' I quic kly pas s ed over the pac ket of bis c uits . I was by now fas c inated by the grues om e ac c ount. 'It's fortunate then,' I s aid, 'that there aren't s o m any rats about.' 'Not s o m any about! ' he s queaked deris ively. 'Not s o m any about! T here's s eventy m illion in this c ountry alone, that's how m any. T here are m ore rats than hum ans on this planet, over s ix billion of the buggers - pardon m y Frenc h. Rats have s ex twenty tim es a day and c an give birth every four weeks . One in twenty dom es tic prem is es are infes ted with rats and that's a c ons ervative es tim ate, s o I'm kept pretty bus y, I c an tell you. You think there aren't s o m any bec aus e you don't s ee them . T hey're elus ive c reatures . B ut they're there all right. W atc hing, waiting, breeding and s preading dis eas e wherever they go. You s ee, your rat is very c lever, he's devious , quic k-witted and adaptable. You're never m ore than fifteen feet away from a rat. Rats ' teeth are harder than alum inium or c opper. T hey c an gnaw through c ables , c lim b bric kwork, get into c avity walls and s wim up toilet U-bends . You c ould be s itting there, reading your paper, m inding your own bus ines s - if you'll exc us e the pun -and up he pops .' I s hifted unc om fortably in m y c hair. 'T hey c an s queeze through a hole no larger than m y thum b and will eat alm os t anything.' He took a s izeable bite out of the bis c uit he had pluc ked from the pac ket and c runc hed nois ily. 'V ery nic e diges tives , thes e. W ill you have one?' I s hook m y head. He polis hed off the bis c uit. 'T hen there's what we c all in the bus ines s your "interm ediate vec tors ", like fleas .' He bec am e s uddenly quite anim ated. 'Now your flea is a fas c inating c reature. T he dis tanc es they c an s pring is quite m ind-boggling. T he danger is that they feed off the rat, s uc king its blood, and then pas s on the rat's dis eas e to you. T hat's how the B lac k Death s tarted.' I s uddenly began to feel rather itc hy. 'How will you dis pos e of the rats ?' I as ked, s c ratc hing m y s c alp. 'T raps and pois on, s im ple but effec tive. Y ou know, I have a c ertain res pec t for Rattus . He's quite am azing. B ody like a c oiled s pring, c alibrated s ens es , razor s harp inc is ors , jaws of s teel, s uperb night vis ion, fas t m over, brilliant s wim m er and agile c lim ber. I alm os t adm ire him in a funny s ort of way.' 'W ell, you c ertainly s eem to enjoy your work,' I s aid. 'I love it. E very day is different, every day has its s hare of exc iting c hallenges .' T hankfully, the bell for the end of as s em bly s ounded. My c om panion ros e to his feet, brus hing the c rum bs from his trous ers . He plac ed the em pty m ug on the s ide and s tretc hed his arm s widely. 'W ell, I s hall have to m ake a s tart, I s uppos e. I need to rec onnoitre, find the right plac e to lay m y pois on and s et m y traps . Mrs Fox has been explaining things to the c hildren in as s em bly. S he felt it would be bes t c om ing from her. S he thought m y explaining things m ight frighten the kiddies .' Having heard him , I c ould well s ee her point. 'Now, I know you ins pec tors like to look into everything in a s c hool but a word of advic e. Don't go poking about in the undergrowth, pus hing your fingers into holes or lifting anything s us pic ious -looking. T here'll probably be a trap or pois on in there.' 'I won't,' I as s ured him . 'A nyway, nic e m eeting you, and if ever you do need anything dis pos ing of - and I don't inc lude your m other-in-law in that lis t - then phone Mauric e Hinderwell at the County P es t Control Unit in Crom pton. S ervic e with a s m ile, that's m e.' I little thought that m orning at S c arthorpe S c hool that I would one day quite s oon be requiring the s ervic es of Mr Hinderwell. T he Mrs Fox I rem em bered from m y las t vis it was a large, c heerful wom an with a foghorn voic e. On this m orning, however, s he was very different. S he appeared s o c areworn and s ubdued that I s ugges ted to her that I c anc el m y vis it and return at a later date when the problem with the rats had been res olved. S he s ighed with relief and readily agreed to m y s ugges tion. 'Oh yes , that would s uit very well, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid. 'W as it not Ham let who s aid that "troubles c om e not in s ingle s pies , but in battalions "?' I knew exac tly how s he felt. 'Firs t we had the bloc ked drains , then the leaking roof, then an outbreak of s c abies and an infes tation of head lic e. A nd then' - s he took a deep breath - 'the rats arrived. P arents are beginning to think this s c hool is c urs ed. A s c hool ins pec tion would jus t about finis h us off.' 'I'm very happy to fix another date, Mrs Fox,' I told her, 'and return when the rats have gone. I have plenty of paperwork to c atc h up with bac k at the offic e and I'm running a c ours e this afternoon s o that will give m e the c hanc e to go through m y notes .' 'It's ironic , really,' s he s ighed. 'W e were about to s tart rehears als for the Chris tm as play next week. W ell, that will have to be c anc elled. T here's no way I'm s taging that partic ular piec e of dram a.' 'W hat was it to have been?' I as ked. 'The P ied P iper,' s he replied, giving m e a weak s m ile. S o I departed, m y m ind full of the frightening fac ts about dis eas e-ridden rodents , giant blood-s uc king bed bugs and ac robatic fleas . I was not in the m os t pos itive fram e of m ind as I walked into the entranc e of W es t Challerton High S c hool later that day to direc t the s taff-training c ours e. T he previous year, one of Dr Gore's 'little jobs ' had been for m e to take part in a Minis try of E duc ation initiative c alled 'Language and Literac y for Learning'. E nglis h ins pec tors from s elec ted educ ation authorities had been given the tas k of obs erving a range of les s ons in a s am ple of s ec ondary s c hools , to as s es s how effec tive teac hers in different s ubjec t areas were in us ing ques tions , developing reading c om petenc e, organis ing group work, enc ouraging dis c us s ion and teac hing writing s kills s uc h as s um m ary and note-taking. T he ins pec tors were als o ins truc ted to exam ine how teac hers evaluated pupils ' work. From this 'pilot' s urvey, it was found that the ques tions as ked and the written work s et in the c las s room c ould very well ac t as barriers to c om m unic ation between teac hers and their s tudents . A fully-blown national projec t had em erged and eac h s ec ondary s c hool in the c ountry was now as ked to devis e a 'Language and Literac y for Learning' polic y. A ll teac hers were required to explore the is s ues in the Minis try of E duc ation's detailed report through c ours es , s ubjec t-bas ed works hops and working parties in order that an unders tanding of the theory c ould be trans lated into prac tic e. T he s ec ond-in-c harge in the E nglis h departm ent was a dynam ic young teac her c alled Mis s Mullane. S he had been as ked by the headm as ter to lead on this projec t, produc e guidelines and organis e training s es s ions and it was s he who had as ked m e to addres s the s taff. I had obs erved Mis s Mullane a c ouple of years before, when s he had taught at the ill-nam ed S unny Grove S ec ondary Modern S c hool, a dark, grim building s et in a wretc hedly depres s ed inner-c ity environm ent, s c arred with graffiti and ankle-deep in litter. T he atm os phere in her c las s room had been s uc h a c ontras t. It had been bright and warm and the pupils had res ponded well to her outs tanding teac hing. I had kept in touc h with her and had been pleas ed when s he had been put in c harge of the 'Language and Literac y' initiative and been only too happy to ac c ept her invitation to s peak to the s taff. W hen I s aw Mr P ennington-S m ith s weeping down the c orridor towards m e in his blac k ac adem ic gown, I had a pres entim ent that m y c ours e would not go all that well. I c ould quite unders tand the headm as ter wearing his gown for a s peec h day or when the pupils were in s c hool but wondered why he s till had his s ym bol of authority draped around him . It was not really c onduc ive to a training c ours e for teac hers . 'A aaahhh, Mr P hinn,' he intoned, 'you've arrived. T he s taff are waiting for you in the s c hool hall.' He gave a weak s m ile. 'It's never eas y delivering thes e training c ours es , is it?' he s aid as we walked together down the c orridor. 'Mos t of the s taff feel they c ould be better oc c upied than s itting in a draughty s c hool hall at the end of the day, lis tening to a lec ture on language and learning. Mos t of them do not s ee the relevanc e for their s ubjec t areas . I have to s ay, I have a deal of s ym pathy with that view. T he Minis try of E duc ation, in its wis dom , s eem s to invent thes e initiatives , c hurning out dis c us s ion papers , fram eworks , guidelines and unwieldy reports that rarely get read. T hes e people in their ivory towers in London have not the firs t idea of the am ount of work that goes on in s c hools .' 'I have to adm it, Mr P ennington-S m ith,' I s aid, 'that when I was as ked to take part in the pilot projec t, I too felt very s c eptic al but I have c hanged m y m ind. I think this initiative is worthwhile and well overdue. I am c onvinc ed that s c hool failure begins with the inability of young people to m as ter s poken and written E nglis h. T eac hers of all s ubjec ts need to be aware of the proc es s by whic h their s tudents ac quire inform ation and know s om ething about the reading dem ands of their own s ubjec ts .' 'T here is none s o zealous as a c onvert,' rem arked the headm as ter. W e s topped at the entranc e to the hall and he res ted his hand on m y arm . 'If I m ay proffer a little advic e,' he whis pered in m y ear. 'W e don't want thought-s howers , brains torm ing, bullet point pres entations , group work and plenary s es s ions and c ould you m ake your talk am us ing and entertaining?' 'Make it am us ing and entertaining?' I repeated. 'W e don't want anything heavy or rigorous .' T his was going to be s uc h an ordeal, I thought to m ys elf. A t this m om ent, Mr P ennington-S m ith was waylaid by a teac her, no doubt attem pting to give his exc us es for not s taying for m y talk, s o I had a m inute or two to rec all S idney's rem inis c enc es whic h he had im parted that afternoon in the offic e prior to m y departure for W es t Challerton. 'You will find, Gervas e,' he had s aid, 'that there are s om e teac hers who derive a pervers e s atis fac tion from trying to wind up anyone who attem pts to train them . T here's the very nois y one who arrives jus t after you've s tarted your lec ture, who bus tles into the room , apologis ing profus ely for being late, drops his papers , m akes a real fus s finding a s eat and finally dec ides on a c hair at the very front right under your nos e. He will then s huffle and yawn and grunt and s igh deeply during your pres entation and m ake frequent c om m ents behind his hand to the pers on s itting next to him . Oc c as ionally, he will dis trac t others who are attem pting to lis ten by pas s ing little notes along the row, c huc kling and watc hing for their reac tion. T hen there's the one who, when as ked if there are any ques tions , enquires when we are breaking for lunc h or who as ks if anyone has a s pare penc il, and the one with verbal diarrhoea whom you c an't s hut up and ram bles endles s ly off the s ubjec t to everyone's annoyanc e.' A t this point in S idney's outpourings , I had pus hed away the notes I had been attem pting to read through, and gave m ys elf up to lis tening to him until he ran out of s team . 'T here's the one who looks as if he's in a c om a, who s tares at you unnervingly, without the trac e of a s m ile, and who, when you explain the exerc is e you wis h them to tac kle, inform s everybody in a loud weary voic e that he has done it before and it does n't work. Of c ours e, there's the one who falls as leep and the one who ignores the "No S m oking" s ign and the one who has a digital watc h whic h goes off at regular intervals . T hen there's the downright rude pers on. Onc e I was half way through m aking a point when s om e individual from the bac k s houted out "B ulls hit! " I had the pres enc e of m ind to reply, "Y es , I got the nam e, but what was the ques tion?" Oh yes ,' S idney had told m e, 'I've s een them all.' Not all, as I was s oon to find out. Mr P ennington-S m ith, having finis hed his c onvers ation with the teac her, m otioned m e forward to the door of the s c hool hall. Ins ide, I was greeted by Mis s Mullane. 'It is really good of you to c om e,' s he s aid brightly. 'W e're all s o m uc h looking forward to your talk.' From a quic k look at the as s em bled teac hers , nothing c ould have been further from the truth. T hey appeared about as interes ted as waxwork exhibits and s at in rows fac ing the s tage, arm s folded and fac es like death m as ks . I predic ted that m y talk would not be rapturous ly well rec eived. T he headm as ter c alled for attention and introduc ed m e. In the front row was a wom an s ipping nois ily from a large m ug and wearing a T -s hirt on the front of whic h was em blazoned in large red letters the s logan: 'Give a m an an inc h and he thinks he's a ruler! ' Her neighbour was knitting furious ly and looking at m e as s he m ight her form er hus band who had des erted her for another wom an, leaving her to bring up the ten c hildren. My introduc tion was followed im m ediately by a few whis pers , as s orted s ighs and a s ea of ic y s tares from the as s em bled s taff. T hen, in a feeble attem pt to s tart the proc eedings off on a light-hearted note, the headm as ter s tarted with a joke. 'W hat's the differenc e between an ins pec tor and a s perm ?' he as ked no one in partic ular. None, leas t of all m ys elf, bothered to res pond, s o he provided the ans wer. 'A s perm has a two m illion to one c hanc e of being hum an.' T here was not a titter. A t this point, a m an in a trac ks uit c overed in bright badges opened a news paper with a flouris h and s om eone s itting at the end of a row s lithered out. It was tim e for m e to s tart whic h I did as c heerfully as I c ould, outlining what I intended doing during the hour-long s es s ion. T he c lac king of the knitting needles , the s ipping of the tea and the rus tling of s om eone's news paper were s oon ac c om panied by further s ighs and tuttings . 'E duc ation thes e days ,' I began enthus ias tic ally, 'is rather akin to the opening lines of a favourite novel of m ine: "It was the bes t of tim es , it was the wors t of tim es ." T hes e are the opening words of the novel, A Tale of Tw o Cities by Charles Dic kens .' I s tared pointedly at Madam e Defarge in the front row but s he c lac ked on regardles s . T he afternoon, needles s to s ay, was not a great s uc c es s . I had felt like a Chris tian in an arena full of lions . I dec lined the headm as ter's invitation to join the few rem aining s taff for a c up of tea and prepared to depart. 'Our s peaker next week is a Mis s de la Mare,' Mr P ennington-S m ith inform ed m e as he es c orted m e down the c orridor to the exit. 'S he's one of her Majes ty's Ins pec tors , you know. V ery high up at the Minis try of E duc ation, I'm reliably inform ed.' 'Y es , I do know her,' I s aid. 'S he's an exc ellent s peaker and has a form idable intellec t. I am s ure s he will go down a bom b.' 'S he's addres s ing the s taff on the topic "Creating a V ibrant Curric ulum ".' 'T hat s hould be fun,' I replied, pitying the poor wom an. 'I hope s o,' replied the headm as ter, s m iling widely and s howing m e to the door. 'I do hope s o.' I arrived hom e later that evening, after a partic ularly tires om e governors ' m eeting, tired, hungry and not in the bes t of m oods . I found Chris tine s itting at the kitc hen table, s eem ingly awaiting m y arrival. B efore I c ould even s ay hello s he flouris hed a news paper and as ked, 'Have you s een this ?' I c ould s ee it was a c opy of the Fettles ham Gaz ette s o gues s ed at the c ontents . 'No,' I replied, taking off m y c oat and throwing m y briefc as e on the table. 'I need a whis ky.' 'T hey're c los ing the village s c hool.' I took a deep breath, poured m ys elf a generous m eas ure of whis ky, took a gulp and replied. 'Y es , I know.' 'Y ou k now !' s he gas ped. 'Y es .' 'How long have you known?' 'A bout a week,' I told her, taking a s ip from the glas s . 'W hy didn't you s ay anything?' 'Chris tine, you know I c an't dis c us s offic e m atters at hom e.' 'E ven when it affec ts us s o pers onally?' 'Look, Chris ,' I s ighed, 'I didn't s ay anything bec aus e, well it was s aid to m e in c onfidenc e and, anyway, I knew how you would reac t. I felt exac tly the s am e when Harold dropped the bom bs hell but, as he explained, there's got to be real s avings in the educ ation budget next year and Hawks rill is one of the c ounty's s m alles t and m os t unec onom ic s c hools and -' 'I don't believe I'm hearing s uc h c laptrap.' I had never s een her quite s o angry. 'I felt exac tly the s am e as you, and I told Harold that, but there is really nothing we c an do. B oth Mrs B eighton and Mrs B rown are retiring s oon, s o c los ing Hawks rill m eans they will not have to pay redundanc ies or re-deploy anyone.' I c ould hear m ys elf ec hoing Harold's words . 'Hell's teeth! A ll you governm ent people c an think of are your c os ts . S aving redundanc y here, killing off jobs there. W hat about the c hildren? W hat about our c hild? How c an you jus t s it bac k and let them c los e the s c hool? T he s c hool your c hild would go to?' 'T here's nothing I c an do,' I s aid, draining the glas s . 'If I c ould wave a m agic wand and keep the s c hool open, I would, but the dec is ion has been m ade and that's that.' 'T hat's a defeatis t attitude if ever I heard one,' Chris tine s aid angrily. 'W ell, I do not intend to let a bunc h of m is erable c ounc illors , pathetic educ ation offic ers and petty offic ials at County Hall c los e the s c hool without a fight.' S he thum ped the kitc hen table s o hard m y glas s fell over. 'T here are s uc h things as appeals , protes ts , dem ons trations , s it-ins and pres s ure groups .' 'I c an't be part of any pres s ure group,' I told her, pic king up m y glas s and pouring m ys elf another whis ky. 'W hy?' 'B ec aus e I'm on the other s ide of the fenc e, that's why.' 'It s eem s to m e that you're s itting on the fenc e, not the other s ide of it.' 'Look, I'm one of thos e pathetic educ ation offic ers and petty offic ials at County Hall to whom you've jus t referred. I'm an offic er of the County. T here's no way I c an be part of a pres s ure group, c an I?'

'E ven if your c hild's future is at s take?' 'T hat's not very fair, Chris tine. If there were anything I c ould do -' 'W ell, there's no point in dis c us s ing it any further. I think you've m ade your feelings perfec tly c lear. T here's the rem ains of a c ottage pie in the oven. I'm going to bed.' 'Chris tine,' I s ighed, 'c an't we talk about this ?' 'T here's nothing to talk about. B y the way, Harry Cotton c alled earlier.' Harry was our neares t neighbour and c ould be a real pain in the nec k. 'W hat did he want?' 'Rats .' 'Rats ?' I repeated. 'W e've got rats at the bac k of the hous e. He's s een them running along the fenc e. Good night.' * Chris tine had been as leep when I went to bed, and we had got up in s ilenc e. Now, at breakfas t, we s tared at eac h other s heepis hly ac ros s the table. 'I'm s orry,' Chris tine s aid, 'I was jus t s o s hoc ked. I did rather overreac t.' 'I s hould have told you,' I replied. 'Y ou were right.' 'No, y ou were right. If s om ething is told to you in c onfidenc e you s houldn't be dis c us s ing it. I don't talk about the c hildren at m y s c hool with you s o why s hould I expec t you to talk about c onfidential m atters with m e. A nd it was unfair of m e to s ay you were s itting on the fenc e. I've had tim e to s leep on it and you are quite right. Y ou c an't be s een to be favouring one s c hool jus t bec aus e your c hild is to attend it. T hat would be unfair on the others . No, you have to keep well and truly out of it.' 'I'm glad you s ee that, Chris tine,' I s aid. 'Y ou s ee, if Hawks rill were the only one to be reprieved, it would s m ac k of m y pulling a few s trings , us ing m y influenc e for pers onal advantage.' 'I know that,' s he told m e. 'I'm agreeing with you. Y ou really don't need to jus tify yours elf 'W ell, I'm glad that's s orted out,' I s aid. 'Of c ours e, that does n't s top me from getting involved, does it?' s aid m y dear wife, looking at m e direc tly with her large blue eyes . 'I really m eant what I s aid las t night. I do not intend to let them c los e the s c hool without a fight.' T here was nothing I c ould s ay, but I s ens ed dark s torm c louds form ing on the horizon.

12 T he following S aturday m orning found m e at the S taff Developm ent Centre. Chris tine hadn't m entioned the propos ed c los ure of the s c hool in Hawks rill s inc e we had talked ac ros s the breakfas t table but I knew, from what m y c olleagues in the offic e had s aid, that things were m oving forward at a dram atic pac e. I c ould hear Connie c lunking and c lanking behind the hatc h in the kitc hen. T he volum e was s uc h that I knew s he was not in the bes t of tem pers . I took a deep breath, popped m y head c harily around the door and s aid, 'Morning, Connie.' 'Oh, it's you,' s he replied, looking up glum ly before returning to her furious attac k on the dis hes in the s ink. 'W hy are y ou here today?' s he as ked. 'It's S aturday. I thought I had the plac e to m ys elf for onc e.' 'I wanted to s ort out the room for next week's c ours e,' I told her, 'and put up a book dis play while the plac e is quiet. A nyway, you're a one to talk. W hat are you doing here? You s hould be in your c aravan at Mablethorpe this weekend, not s laving away on a S aturday. I would have thought you s ee enough of this plac e.' 'You're right. You wouldn't get m e in here on a weekend norm ally but you s hould have s een the s tate of this building when I c am e in yes terday. T hree days away from the plac e and it's like a tip. Do you know, I'm having to was h all thes e c ups and s auc ers again. Filthy they were. T hey c ouldn't have s een a drop of hot water. J us t rins ed and put bac k in the c upboard, they were. Dried s ugar in the bottom , tea and c offee s tains round the rim s . A nd the s tate of m y floors and toilets ! S he was les s than us eles s , Mrs Os baldis ton. I s hould never have as ked her to fill in for m e. W hen I walked through that door yes terday I thought a tornado had hit the plac e. I've had to work all day Friday to get the floors and toilets s hips hape. T oday is the kitc hen's turn. I want everything right for Monday.' I quic kly c hanged the s ubjec t. 'How was Franc e?' S he drew her lips together into a tight thin line and glared at m e. 'Don't as k,' s he s aid. 'Oh dear,' I s aid. 'Not too good then?' 'Not too good?' s he repeated. 'Not too good? It was a nightm are from beginning to end.' S he withdrew her hands from the s oaps uds and wiped them vigorous ly on a towel. 'W e got on the ferry at Dover and the s ea s tarted to heave. Up and down, up and down, like a rollerc oas ter. Mountainous it was . I thought I was going to die. If I vom ited onc e, I vom ited ten tim es . It was wors e than that trip to Ireland a c ouple of years bac k. It was awful. W hen we finally arrived in Calais , you would not believe what happened.' 'W ouldn't I?' 'No, you would not.' 'W hat did happen?' I as ked, intrigued. 'I was interc epted, that's what.' 'Interc epted?' 'Interc epted by this little Frenc h c us tom s offic ial. Ignoranus he was . Out of all the people going through, he pic ks on m e. I m ean, I as k you, do I look like a terroris t or gun-runner? Rootles through m y bag, he did, probing and prying, laying everything out without a by-your-leave. A ll m y pers onal ac c outrem ents expos ed to the world. "A nd what's this ?" he as ks m e, holding up the urn. "T hat is m y father," I told him . Cours e he didn't unders tand, did he? W ell, they don't thes e foreigners . "W hat is in the pot?" he as ks . "It is not a pot, it's an urn, and it c ontains the rem ains of m y dear departed father," I tells him . He takes the lid off, looks ins ide, pokes his big nos e in and s tarts to s niff. "W hat is in this pot?" he as ks again. "It is m y father," I tells him , "and kindly s top s niffing him , he's not that pope puree s tuff." "I s hall have to take a s am ple," he s ays . "Over m y dead body," I tells him . A t this point a nic e old pries t in a blac k has s oc k c om es to m y as s is tanc e. He was leading s om e s ort of pilgrim age to a weeping virgin in B rittany with a group of old ladies in tow. A nyway, he s tarts jabbering on in the lingo to the horrible little m an in the blac k uniform . "He thinks it m ight be an illegal s ubs tanc e," he tells m e at las t. "T hat's no illegal s ubs tanc e," I s ays , "it's m y father in there and kindly as k him to s top interfering with him ." "He thinks it m ight be drugs ," s ays the pries t. "Drugs ! " I s ays . "Do I look like a drug-runner?" "He wants to take a s pec im en," s ays the pries t, and I s ays , "Tell him that if he lays s o m uc h as a finger on m y father, I'll be ac ros s that c ounter. A nd tell him I'm here to s c atter m y father's as hes at Dunkirk. A nd," I adds , "tell him if it was n't for the likes of m en like m y father defending his c ountry from the Nazis in the las t war, extinguis hing him s elf on the battlefields of E urope, A dolf's lot would be goos e-s tepping up and down Calais , ins tead of him ." ' 'Oh dear,' I s ighed. 'I don't think the pries t told him that though.' 'I gues s not,' I m urm ured. 'T he pries t s aid not to m ake the horrid little m an angry or be obs truc tive or he m ight ins is t on a s trip-s earc h. W ell, that was the las t s traw. I as ked the pries t to tell him to hand bac k m y father or there would be fireworks .' 'S o what happened?' I as ked. 'He jus t s ort of s m iled did the pries t, the way that they do. A nyroad, he gets m y father off of the Frenc hm an. T hey're very pers uas ive are c leric s , aren't they? He bles s es m y father, whic h was very nic e of him , and m e and T ed go on our way - and not before tim e.' 'S o you m anaged to s c atter your father's as hes after all,' I s aid. 'No, I didn't. I was s o hot and flus hed after that run-in with the c us tom s m an and loaded down as I was with bags and duty free and I don't know what els e, I only dropped the urn, didn't I?' 'Oh no, Connie! ' I gas ped. 'J us t s lipped c lean out of m y hands on the s ea-front, s m as hed to s m ithereens before m y eyes and Dad was blown out to s ea. He was there one m inute, gone the next. S o I never did get to leave him with his pals at Dunkirk after all. W as ted journey, it was .' 'W ell, if it's any c ons olation,' I told her, 'there are m any people who as k for their as hes to be s c attered on the water, to be was hed out by the s ea, c arried forever in the c urrents of tim e.' It was c lear from her expres s ion that Connie was far from reas s ured. 'W ell, it is n't any c ons olation. I didn't want Dad flus hed out to s ea on the c urrents of tim e. It wouldn't have s uited m y father at all. He hated water, c ouldn't s wim and was s ic k on the boating lake at S c arborough.' 'W ell, you're bac k now, Connie.' 'Oh, I'm bac k all right! ' s he exc laim ed. 'A nd what do I c om e bac k to? S c uffs on m y floor, c hips out of m y plates , dirty c ups , dus t on m y s helves , m arks on m y walls and m y toilets - well, I c ould have wept. S he was about as m uc h us e as a c hoc olate teapot, Mrs Os baldis ton. Didn't do a hand's turn, as far as I c ould tell, all the tim e I was away.' 'W ell, s he is getting on a bit, Connie,' I told her, 'and s he does have a lot of ailm ents .' 'T he only ailm ent Mrs Os baldis ton has is a dos e of idleitis . S he never lifted a m op. Of c ours e, it's like the old s aying: "W hen the c at's away --" ' 'How do you m ean?' 'Mr Clam p's filled all the walls with rude pic tures of his nudes and very ugly and off-putting they are as well. A nd then I had the s hoc k of m y life.' Connie s uc ked and blew and purs ed her lips . 'Near the art room , s taring at m e from the wall, s m iling like a Ches ter c at is Mrs Os baldis ton. He only us ed her as a m odel as well. Mrs Os baldis ton! No wonder s he got no work done. S itting there s he is , like the Queen of S heba.' 'Mrs Os baldis ton, a nude m odel?' I exc laim ed. 'No, no, s he's a P rim itive Methodis t. S he wouldn't do anything like that. No, s he was fully c om pos t m entis in a floral overall and holding m y feather dus ter, as large as life.' Connie plunged her hands bac k into the s oaps uds . 'A nyway, I took her down and put her in the ladies ' toilets . B es t plac e for her.' 'W ell, you c an have a res t tom orrow,' I s aid. Out of the s oaps uds c am e the hands and Connie dried them on the towel. 'Chanc e'd be a fine thing. Las t S unday I was in the m iddle of putting the Yorks hire puddings in and there was a knoc k at the door. I've had a lot of thes e J ehovah's W itnes s es round rec ently on a S unday, ever s inc e they opened a c hurc h near us . Nic e enough people - very polite, s m artly dres s ed, very friendly - but they always appear when I'm in the m iddle of doing s om ething. A nyway, on the doors tep there were thes e two m en in grey s uits with blac k briefc as es . Here we go again, I thought. "I'm s orry," I s ays , "I c an't s peak to you at the m om ent, I'm very bus y." "Can we jus t have a m om ent of your tim e," s aid one of the m en, "to tell you what we believe?" "No, you c an't," I s ays , "I don't want to be unprepos s es s ing, but I've got a pan of hot fat in the oven. I'm jus t about to put m y Yorks hire puddings in." Cours e, they wouldn't take no for an ans wer. "It'll only take a m inute," s ays one of them . T hey're very... what's the word?' 'P ers is tent.' 'P ers is tent, that's it. "Look," I s ays to him , "I've heard what you've got to s ay before and I've read the booklet you pus hed through the door and the only thing you and m e have in c om m on is God. Nothing els e." W ell that took the wind out of his s ails , I c an tell you. "Oh," s ays he, looking all taken abac k, "you'll not be voting Liberal Dem oc rat then?" I felt s uc h a fool.' Connie brus hed down the front of her pink nylon overall. 'W ell, I c an't s top here talking all day. I've got the floor to do in here yet.' A fter I had s et up the book dis play and before leaving, I popped into the ladies ' c loakroom . I c ould not res is t having a quic k look at the portrait of Mrs Os baldis ton. On the far wall, between the c ubic les and the bas ins , was a large pic ture of a s tooping little wom an of raddled appearanc e, arrayed in a bright m ultic oloured overall and looking im perious ly from the c anvas . I had to s m ile. K nowing Connie as I did, that is where Mrs O. would s tay, overs eeing the ladies ' ablutions . I left the S taff Developm ent Centre that m orning in a m uc h better fram e of m ind. T hat afternoon I dec ided to tac kle the garden at the bac k of the c ottage. Harry Cotton, m y neares t neighbour, had already been ac ros s to s ee m e to offer his us ual uns olic ited advic e, this tim e on the pruning that needed to be done to the s hrubs and trees , how I m ight im prove the m os s y, weed-infes ted lawn, what I s hould do about the overgrown bus hes and with num erous other hortic ultural s ugges tions nec es s ary before winter s et in. T he rats , of c ours e, had aris en in the c ours e of our c onvers ation. 'Mus t have been about four or five of 'em runnin' along that fenc e o' yourn as large as life. B ig as babby badgers they were,' he had told m e, alm os t gleefully. 'It's all very well you gettin' this 'ere 'inderwell c happie out to s et traps and put down pois on and t'like, but rats are very res ilient c reatures . T hey'll be bac k. Make no m is take about that. I know all abaat rats . I were brought up wi' 'em . T here's nowt I don't know abaat rats . T ha wants a dog or a c ouple o' c ats . T hey'll s ort your rat problem out. Take m y B us ter, for exam ple. B order terrier s he is , and as tough as owld boots . I was only talkin' to George Hem m ings a week bac k and 'e s ays 'is P atterdale bitc h is ready to whelp. I c ould get you one o' thos e pups , if tha likes . Can't beat a terrier. My B us ter's a rare little ratter. B y, s he c an't 'alf s hift if s he s ees a rat or a rabbit. S he brings m e a rat into t'kitc hen every day. J us t nips t'bac k of its nec k as s oon as it s hows its s c abby little fac e.' Harry had banged his s tic k on the ground as though knoc king a rat on the head. He was an old m an with a wide-boned, pitted fac e the c olour and texture of an uns c rubbed potato, a s harp nos e with flared nos trils and a s hoc k of white hair. 'W ell, I don't think Chris tine would be all that keen about having a dead rat brought into the kitc hen every day, Harry,' I had replied. 'B etter a deead rat in your kitc hen, than an arm y of live ones infes tin' your garden,' he had s aid. 'T hat's what I always s ays .' I was n't s ure I agreed with that. 'I'll think about it,' I had told him . 'Mr Hinderwell, the P es t Control Offic er, is c om ing out to have a look. I'll s ee what he s ays .' 'S uit yours elf,' Harry had s aid. 'B ut I'll tell thee this . He c an put all t'traps and pois on down in t'world but they'll be bac k. Mark m y words , they'll be bac k. T ha wants a dog or a c ouple of c ats , that's what tha wants . T ed P os kitt's c at's jus t had kittens . I c ould get you a c ouple o' them , if tha prefers c ats .' 'T hat's really good of you, Harry,' I had s aid, 'but I'll s ee what Mr Hinderwell s ugges ts .' 'Mebbe it's jus t as well. Old Mrs P os kitt probably wouldn't let you have one anyroad. S he's not kindly dis pos ed to thee at t'm om ent.' 'W hy?' I'd then as ked. 'W hat have I done to ups et Mrs P os kitt?' 'Her granddaughter, little B ethany, goes to t's c hool what you're c los ing.' Oh, don't let's get onto that s ubjec t, I'd thought to m ys elf, but Harry, true to form , had refus ed to let it lie. He was as tenac ious as his B order terrier. 'A ye, it's a rum do about t's hutting a s c hool what's been 'ere in 'awks rill for c ountles s c enturies .' 'It's a V ic torian s c hool, Harry,' I had told him , 's o it's not m uc h m ore than a hundred years old and I s hould point out that I am not pers onally res pons ible for c los ing it. It's the County Counc il and I'm as angry about it as anyone. Have a word with your loc al c ounc illor and get him or her to c om plain.' 'Loc al c ounc illor! ' m y c om panion had s norted. 'Loc al c ounc illor! You m ean Horac e W ithers poon. I was at s c hool with Horac e. He were a two-fac ed little bugger then and he an't c hanged. I don't have owt to do wi' politic ians , never 'ad and never will. T hey're all t'bloody s am e. My owld dad us ed to s ay politic ians are like bananas . T hey s tart off green, then they turn yella and end up bent.' 'Y es , well I don't have any influenc e,' I had told him . 'T hat's as m ay be, but people in t'village are up in arm s abaat it.' 'S o I hear,' I had s ighed. A lthough Chris tine had kept deliberately very quiet about the whole m atter, I had heard from Harold that there had already been a great deal of ac tivity from the res idents of the village. It was als o c lear to m e that Chris tine's s tated intention to take the m atter further was not an idle threat. 'W ell, I'll get on,' Harry had s aid and he had am bled off to give s om eone els e the benefit of his unc alled-for advic e and words of wis dom . Mauric e Hinderwell had been very helpful but he had agreed with Harry that the rats would return, without a s hadow of doubt. 'Y ou have to des troy their habitat,' he had advis ed, nodding s agely. 'T ake that derelic t building you've got at the bottom of your garden. T hat's where they'll likely be, out of s ight, breeding and s preading dis eas e. T here'll be nes ts of them in there, where it's dry and dark. P lenty of food for them as well by the looks of it. P utting out a bird table full of nuts and bread is inviting rats . My advic e to you is knoc k it down and lawn it over. B arn, I m ean, not the bird table. T hen your rats will m ove s om ewhere els e. T hat old building takes up half your garden anyway and it's an eyes ore.' S o, on this S aturday afternoon I m ade a s tart on dem olis hing the old building. It was not big enough to be c alled a barn, and it was bigger than a s hed. It m us t have been s om e s ort of outhous e, a s tore perhaps . One wall had c om pletely c ollaps ed and another was dangerous ly tilted. T he expos ed beam s were rotten and little rem ained of the grey s late roof. It was a pec uliar oblong building of dark s tone with oddly narrow windows not like any of the outbuildings I had s een in the area, whic h were m os tly built of lim es tone with red tiled roofs and had plain s quare windows . I worked all afternoon and s oon all that rem ained was a pile of rubble. I was s urveying m y handiwork when Chris tine appeared with a m ug of tea. 'For the worker,' s he s aid. 'T hanks .' 'My goodnes s , it's all gone,' s he s aid, c learly im pres s ed. 'T he garden looks a lot bigger, does n't it?' 'Y es , and m uc h better without that old building.' 'W hat are you going to do with all the s tone?' s he as ked. 'T he garden's too s m all for a roc kery, is n't it?' 'I have an idea,' I told her. 'I thought we m ight have a wall ac ros s the bac k. Rem em ber las t year when thos e two s heep got through the fenc e and into the garden. You c ertainly weren't too pleas ed with what they did to your plants . W ell, I thought a drys tone wall with flowering s hrubs and c reepers , s weet peas perhaps , agains t it would be ideal there.' 'Good idea,' s he s aid. 'Now, I'm off to the S c hool A c tion Group m eeting,' s he s aid. 'I'll s ee you later.' W e had been as s iduous ly avoiding the s ubjec t of the s c hool c los ure thus far, but s he had s pent m os t of the m orning on the telephone s o I was n't s urpris ed about the m eeting. It was later that evening when m y knee began to hurt. One of the rotten beam s from the old building had s uddenly fallen and, in an attem pt to avoid it c ras hing down on top m e, I had leapt s m artly to the s ide and fallen heavily, c rac king m y knee in the proc es s . Later that evening the knee had s wollen to the s ize of a pom egranate. 'I really don't know why you had to do the dem olition yours elf,' c hided Chris tine, exam ining the knee. 'W e s hould have got a builder in to do it.' 'T hink of the expens e,' I s aid. 'I'm jus t about c apable of knoc king a c ouple of walls down.' Chris tine gave a wry s m ile. 'A re you?' s he as ked. 'It looks dreadful. Y ou had better s ee the doc tor about that.' 'I had wors e bangs than that when I played rugby. It's not nearly as bad as it looks .' W ould that that had been the c as e. * Tom Fields , the drys tone-waller, arrived bright and early the following S aturday. Chris tine had m et him at the m eeting of the S c hool A c tion Group the previous week. S he had arrived hom e with two bits of news . Firs t, that s he had been m ade c hairm an of the village's ac tion c om m ittee to fight the s c hool c los ure and, following a brief but s om ewhat heated argum ent, we had agreed that there would be no further dis c us s ion of the s ubjec t between us . S ec ondly, s he had m et Tom Fields and onc e s he had c onvinc ed him that I was not the dem onic ins pec tor intent on dem olis hing his c hild's s c hool he had agreed to build our wall. He had been let down over a job when s om e s tone hadn't arrived, and we were fortuitous ly able to take the s lot. I found him s taring beyond the s m all garden taking in the s pec tac ular view: the dark and dis tant fells , the bronze belt of the dead brac ken, the rolling green fields s weeping down to the river, the lim es tone outc rops gleam ing bone-white in the early s unlight, the s c attering of grey farm hous es and hills ide barns , and the endles s ly c ris s -c ros s ing drys tone walls . 'T ha's a grand view 'ere and no m is take, Mes ter P hinn,' he told m e. I had rather expec ted an anc ient, grizzled c harac ter in s om e s ort of traditional outfit - flat c ap, c orduroy trous ers tied at the knee with s tring, thic k tweed jac ket and s potted nec kerc hief-but Tom Fields was a young m an dres s ed in a bright blue overall. He had a ready s m ile and long blond hair tied bac k in a ponytail. He didn't look old enough to be the father of a c hild of s c hool age. He turned his attention to the rem ains of the old outhous e. 'A nd tha's got a grand bit o' s tone 'ere, an' all.' He plac ed his hands on his hips and s urveyed the s m all m ountain of rubble. 'Cos t a pretty penny this would to buy and o' c oours e then tha'd 'ave t'added expens e of 'aving it brought in. S om e on it will want a bit o' dres s ing but there's plenty 'ere for what I've got to do. A wall ac ros s t'bac k will look c ham pion, it really will. J us t as it us ed to do.' 'W hat do you m ean by that?' I as ked. 'Oh, there'd 'ave been a wall 'ere afore. A ll t'fields were walled at one tim e. B ut when they fell down, s om e of 'em newer farm ers jus t replac ed t'wall wi' fenc ing, s om etim es us ing t'bits of t'old wall to patc h s om eweer els e. T hat's what's happened 'ere, tha s ees .' 'W ell, I'm glad to be putting it bac k, then.' 'A ye, and tha's got m ore than enough s tone 'ere to m ek a reight c ham pion wall, not too 'igh as it'll s poil tha view, not s o low as it'll let t's heep in.' 'It's the rem ains of the derelic t building whic h us ed to be in the c orner of the garden,' I told him . 'Oh aye?' 'S o how big will the wall be?' I as ked. He looked at m e as if I were s om e s ort of s im pleton. 'W hat I've jus t s aid - 'igh enough to keep t's heep out and low enough not to s poil tha view. Like them what were built in owlden days . My walls are a touc h higher but not a deal different - not m uc h m ore than four foot high. T hey'll be t's am e arrangem ent of throughs , fillings and top-s tones as there 'as been for c enturies - abaat a yard wide at t'bottom les s ening to a touc h ovver a foot at t'top.' 'A nd how long will it take you to do?' I as ked. 'S am e tim e as it did for wallers two or three 'undred year ago, abaat s even yards a day. I'll 'ave yours finis hed within t'week.' 'T hat's exc ellent,' I s aid. B y the following S unday, the s m all garden at the bac k of P eewit Cottage was trans form ed. T om Fields had finis hed as he'd prom is ed the previous day and the wall was m agnific ent. S traight and s olid, it looked as if it had been there for c enturies . I had pruned the trees and s hrubs , c ut down the dead flowers , dug up the weeds , turned over the s oil, burnt the rubbis h and prepared the ground where the building had been. I would s ow gras s s eed there next year. I heard the garden gate c lic k and a m om ent later Harry Cotton appeared around the s ide of the c ottage. He was ac c om panied by his bris tly little dog with large blac k eyes and a very hairy fac e. 'Hello, Harry. Hello, B us ter,' I s aid. 'Have you had a nic e tim e away?' Harry had told m e he was going to s pend a few days at his s is ter's and had as ked m e to keep a neighbourly eye on his c ottage. 'A ye. It were reight enough wi' our B ertha, but it's allus better in yer own 'om e, in't it? S he dunt s hurrup, that's 'er trouble and there's nowt s he dunt know abaat.' T wo peas in a pod, I thought, s m iling. 'S he 'as a view on everything, our B ertha and it's all nowt abaat owt. It's like 'aving a c onvers ation wi' a bloody Gatling gun.' He poked into s om e s hrubs with his gnarled walking s tic k. 'Got rid o' your rats then, 'ave you?' he as ked, regarding m e balefully. 'Y es , I think s o,' I replied. 'Mauric e Hinderwell c aught about s ix in his traps and has put s om e pois on down, s o keep B us ter well away. I s hould think that that will be the las t of them . He rec koned that they were breeding underneath the old outbuilding.' 'Oh aye,' s aid Harry, approac hing m y new drys tone wall whic h he patted as he m ight a pet anim al. 'Nic e bit of work this . V ery nic e.' His terrier nos ed along the bas e of the wall. 'I rec kon s he c an s m ell a rat. Got a nos e for 'em .' 'I doubt it very m uc h, Harry,' I s aid. 'A ye, well we'll s ee,' he s aid, as ever the prophet of doom . 'S o, m y wall m eets with your approval, does it?' I s aid, not wis hing to s tart up a dis c us s ion about rats . 'W ho did it for thee?' he as ked.

'T om Fields .' 'Oh well, 'is fam ily's been building drys tone walls s inc e tim e o' V ikings . I thought it were one of 'is .' 'He's m ade a s plendid job of it.' Harry rem ained s taring at the wall for a good long tim e before s aying, 'I'm s urpris ed they let you pull that owld c hapel down, tha knaas .' 'W hat old c hapel?' I as ked. 'T hat what were in t'c orner o' your plot.' 'Y ou m ean the old outhous e?' 'Nay, it were no outhous e. It were t'owld W es ley an c hapel. B uilt s eventeen 'undred and s um m at. One o' oldes t c hapels in t'c ounty, s o they s ay.' 'It was a c hapel?' I s aid, m y m outh dropping open and m y heart s inking into m y boots . 'I thought it was jus t s om e s ort of outbuilding.' 'Nay, not that 'un,' Harry told m e, rubbing the whis kers on his c hin. 'It was a c hapel?' I repeated. 'Did nob'dy tell thee?' 'No, they didn't,' I s aid in a s hoc ked whis per. 'I don't s uppos e there would o' been m uc h point in T om telling thee, if tha'd already knoc ked it down.' 'Did he know?' I as ked. 'I rec kon he did. B ut he's a drys tone waller not a c hurc h builder. He c ouldn't 'ave put it bac k together ageean, if that's what tha's thinkin'.' 'W hat do you m ean, put it bac k together?' I s aid. 'T here was hardly anything s tanding. I had no idea it us ed to be a c hapel. T his is terrible.' 'A ye, it is ,' agreed Harry. 'P robably got s om e s ort of pres ervation order on it. Could 'ave been a lis ted building, tha knaas .' 'I don't believe it,' I s aid. 'I jus t don't believe it.' T his was like a re-enac tm ent of an epis ode whic h had oc c urred when we had firs t m oved into the village. I had taken over an overgrown allotm ent, s pent m any a S aturday c learing it of the thic k briars and twis ting bram bles , overgrown bus hes and ram pant weeds , only to find that I had c leared the wrong plot, one that was rented by A lbert T atters all, a friend of Harry Cotton's . 'Y ou s ee, owld A lbert kept it on for t'goos eberries ,' Harry had been quic k to point out to m e as he had s urveyed m y handiwork, 'and, of c ours e, the blac kc urrants ?' 'Goos eberries ? B lac kc urrants ?' I had c ried. 'W hat goos eberries and blac kc urrants ?' 'T hem what would 'ave been growin' on them bus hes whic h you dug up and are now burnin' on tha bonfire,' Harry had obs erved. I had eventually pers uaded A lbert, after a good few beers in the loc al pub, the Golden B all, and the prom is e of s om e fres h vegetables , to let m e take over the allotm ent. Now, here I was again with Harry, the J ob's c om forter par ex c ellenc e, des c ribing how onc e again I had put m y foot well and truly in it. 'T ha's probably jus t pulled down a building of gret 'is toric al hinteres t,' he rem arked c as ually. 'It was derelic t,' I s aid feebly. 'S om etim es we get A m eric an Methodis ts dropping in to t'village to have a look at it. I don't s uppos e they'll be c alling in to view a wall even though it us ed to be an 'is toric al s hrine.' I was s peec hles s . T hen Harry rubbed m ore s alt in the wound. 'On t'annivers ary of W es ley's death, t'loc al m inis ter, Reverend J es s op, held a s ervic e up here, as I rec all. Old Mrs Ollerans haw, who 'ad c ottage afoor thee, was very big in t'c hapel and as ked t'm inis ter to c om e out and c onduc t a s pec ial s ervic e. T hey do s ay that W es ley him s elf preac hed 'ere and that -' 'Mary Queen of S c ots s lept here on the way down to her exec ution and Guy Fawkes hid in the c ellar! ' I c ried in des peration. 'I don't know owt about that,' s aid Harry, looking puzzled. 'B ut I s 'pos e they m ight 'ave.' 'P leas e, Harry,' I pleaded, 'don't go on.' 'I rec kon you'll be having a vis it from George Hem m ings . He's on t'P aris h Counc il tha knaas and is very keen on pres ervation. T hen I expec t 'is toric al people from York will be up to s ee thee. A nd it won't be long afore Horac e W ither-s poon s tarts tekkin up t'c as e, pokin' his fat nos e in and c aus in' trouble. I s houldn't be at all s urpris ed if tha were pros ec uted and fined.' 'Harry! ' I s napped. 'P leas e do not go on about it. I'm feeling pretty bad about this as it is .' 'I won't s ay another word,' he s aid, 'but I rec kon tha'll be even m ore unpopular in t'village when they 'ears abaat this .' 'Y es , I s uppos e I will,' I s ighed. 'T hey'll be thinking that tha wants t's c hool c los ed s o tha c an knoc k it down to us e t'bric ks for an extens ion to t'c ottage.'

13 'W ell, I m us t s ay, you m ight have done your hom ework, old boy.' It was Monday m orning in the offic e and I had jus t told S idney and David about m y dis as trous weekend and the dem olition of the Methodis t c hapel. S idney was his us ual uns ym pathetic s elf and I s oon wis hed I had kept the whole s orry bus ines s to m ys elf. 'T his c ounty is c ram m ed full of old ruins ,' he announc ed, leaning bac k on his c hair and plac ing his hands behind his head. 'Y ou c an't turn a c orner without finding an abbey or priory or c as tle or s om e m edieval c hurc h or other. It's not Milton K eynes , you know. Y ou s hould have gues s ed this c harm ing and antiquated little c ons truc tion would be of his toric interes t.' 'It was a ruin, S idney,' I told him , 'not a c harm ing and antiquated little c ons truc tion, as you put it. It was a broken-down ram s hac kle building with two walls and no roof. I've looked through the deeds of the c ottage and there is nothing about any Methodis t c hapel on m y property.' I was trying to c onvinc e m ys elf that I was blowing things out of all proportion. 'It's c alled an outbuilding and if it were a lis ted building it would s ay s o - wouldn't it?' 'It's in the National P ark, your c ottage, is n't it?' rem arked S idney, leaning even further bac k in his c hair. 'Y es , it is . W hy?' S idney s uc ked in his breath dram atic ally. 'W ell, they s lap pres ervation orders on everything from a pigs ty to a c es s pit in the National P ark. You c an't c hange a tile on your roof without perm is s ion. You know, I did warn you, Gervas e, before you bought that c rum bling pile that you would be far better off in a s m art rivers ide apartm ent or a m odern town hous e in Fettles ham , within walking dis tanc e of the offic e. Now, I'm no expert on the m atter -' 'W ell, there's a firs t,' rem arked David, looking up from his papers and over the top of his s pec tac les . 'Y ou're an expert on every other bles s ed thing.' 'B ut, what I will s ay,' c ontinued S idney blithely, 'is that I well rec all the hoo-hah when they knoc ked down thos e derelic t outs ide toilets at the little s c hool at Tarnc liffe. You know the s c hool, Gervas e, next door to the rather attrac tive little grey-s tone P rim itive Methodis t c hapel where J ohn W es ley was reputed to have preac hed. T hey were pre-V ic torian, by all ac c ounts , thes e privvies , and the only exam ples of their kind in Yorks hire, pos s ibly in the c ountry. E veryone thought they were an eyes ore - the headteac her, Mis s Drayton, her as s is tant, that rather fus s y Mrs S tandis h, all the governors and parents . T hey were s m all, s m elly, dam p and dis gus ting and they harboured rats , jus t like your old building. W ell, no s ooner were they down than up jum ps the loc al his toric al s oc iety and c laim s they were unique and had been us ed by m any a fam ous pers on pas s ing through, if you will exc us e the unintended pun, on their way to York and were of unim aginable his toric al im portanc e. T hey were hoping to put up one of thos e blue plaques s aying, "E m ily B ronte s at here".' 'Take no notic e, Gervas e,' David reas s ured m e. 'Nothing will c om e of it, m ark m y words . He's jus t winding you up. You m ight give old P erkins in the County A rc hitec ts ' Departm ent a ring, though, to be on the s afe s ide. He's a very good-hearted s ort is old P erkins . B een in the c ounty for ever. He's big on old ruins , Fellow of the Royal His toric al S oc iety and he's a Methodis t lay preac her. If anyone will know about this c hapel, he will.' 'I would advis e you to keep very quiet,' s aid S idney. 'Mentioning it to s om eone like old P erkins is inviting trouble. If I were you, I would adm it nothing or blam e vandals . T hey've m anaged to inc apac itate the nuc lear fall-out s helter in Colling-ton, from what I hear. A c hapel would be a piec e of c ake for them after that. I would jus t plead ignoranc e.' 'I don't know what has got into you today, S idney,' s aid David, s m iling. 'Y ou freely adm it you are not an expert and then you s tart pleading ignoranc e. A re you on s om e s ort of m edic ation?' S idney didn't deign to ans wer. 'I s eem to be having a real run of bad luc k at the m om ent,' I told m y c olleagues . It was true: firs t it was K ing Henry's , then the Hawks rill s c hool c los ure, then the rats , then the c hapel and m y knee was no better either. W hatever next? I hadn't long to wait. T he firs t vis it of the week was to Mans ton Churc h of E ngland P aroc hial S c hool, a quaint, two-s torey s tone building whic h nes tled in a s m all village on the extens ive es tate of Lord Marric k. V alentine Courtnay-Cunningham e, 9th E arl Marric k, V is c ount Mans ton, B aron B rafferton, MC, DL, was one of the m os t c olourful and unus ual c harac ters it had been m y pleas ure to m eet; a delightfully c heerful, good-natured and s om ewhat ec c entric peer who loved the Dales as pas s ionately as any farm er. T his portly, red-c heeked c harac ter with his bom bas tic walrus m ous tac he and thic k hair s hooting up from a s quare head looked as if he had walked s traight out of the pages of an his toric al novel. T he las t tim e I had vis ited the s c hool I had ac c om panied Lord Marric k, who was the Chairm an of the Governing B ody. T he c hildren had been fas c inated when this outlandis h-looking figure had m arc hed through the c las s room door, m ous tac he bris tling, and thundered, 'Morning, c hildren! ' W e had s at together beneath a s m all m arble plaque bearing the nam e of one of his dis tinguis hed forebears - the Dowager Countes s Marric k - who had endowed the s m all s c hool a c entury or s o earlier. A s I s at in the c orner of the s am e c las s room now, beneath the s am e m arble plaque, m aking a few prelim inary notes on the s tate of the building and the dis play of work, I bec am e c ons c ious of a s m all boy, aged about s even or eight, obs erving m e from a little way away. I c ould feel his eyes taking in every detail of m y appearanc e. E ventually he approac hed m e. 'May I as k you what you are doing?' he inquired. 'I'm writing about your s c hool,' I replied, looking up and s m iling. 'I s ee.' 'I'm a s c hool ins pec tor.' 'Y es , I know. Our teac her told us you would be vis iting us today and that you would be looking at our books and lis tening to us read.' 'I'm Mr P hinn,' I told him . 'Oh, I'm B enedic t,' he replied, holding out a s m all hand whic h I s hook form ally. 'W ell, B enedic t, s houldn't you be getting on with your work?' 'I've done it. W hen we've finis hed our writing, we're allowed to s elec t a book from the Reading Corner. I was on m y way there when I thought I'd s top and s ay hello.' His m anner and s peec h were am us ingly old-fas hioned for one s o young. 'W ell, that's very nic e of you, B enedic t,' I s aid. 'Mrs Mc Guire - s he's our teac her, but you probably know that already - well, Mrs Mc Guire s ays there are m uc h better words to us e than "nic e".' 'I'm s ure s he's right,' I s aid, c huc kling. 'I'll try to rem em ber in future.' 'A nd that there are m uc h m ore interes ting words to us e in our s tories than "s aid". Do you like s tories , Mr P hinn?' 'I do,' I replied. 'W ould you like to s ee s om e of m ine?' 'P erhaps later, B enedic t,' I told him . 'I'm a little bus y at the m om ent.' 'Righto, I'll get along then and c hoos e a book. I like poetry, you know. I love the rhym es .' He thought for a m om ent and then s aid, 'Do you know, Mr P hinn, we've had a very interes ting c onvers ation, haven't we?' 'W e have, B enedic t,' I replied, 'indeed we have.' He then patted m e gently on the arm and s aid, before departing for the B ook Corner, 'W e m us t do lunc h s om etim e.' * One reas on for m y vis it that m orning was to s ee the rec ent c hanges whic h had been m ade to the building to ac c om m odate a dis abled pupil who had rec ently s tarted at the s c hool. Ram ps had been built, doors had been widened to allow the wheelc hair to pas s through, c las s room s had been re-arranged and a dis abled toilet and a s tair lift had been ins talled. It all looked very im pres s ive and the headteac her and her as s is tant were well pleas ed. I m et the c hild in ques tion over lunc h. S he was a s m all girl of about s even or eight, a c heerful, c hattery little thing with c urly red hair and a wide s m ile. I s oon dis c overed that s he was as bright as a button. 'Mr P hinn, are you very im portant?' s he as ked between m outhfuls of las agne. 'No, not very,' I replied. 'Mrs Mc Guire told us that you were a very im portant pers on.' 'I think s he was exaggerating, jus t a little bit.' 'My grandpa's a very im portant pers on,' the c hild told m e. 'Is he?' 'He wears a wig, you know, and a long red dres s .' 'Does he?' 'A nd s hiny s hoes with high heels and big s ilver buc kles on the front.' 'I s ee.' I had vis ions of a drag queen but I s us pec ted I knew what her grandfather did. 'He's a judge, you know,' s he inform ed m e. 'Y es , I thought he m ight be.' 'A nd he loc ks naughty people up.' S he took a gulp of water from the plas tic beaker. 'My daddy's not a judge, but he's very im portant.' 'Is he?' 'He c uts people up,' the little girl s aid, nodding gravely. 'I s ee.' Now I had vis ions of J ac k the Ripper but I gues s ed her father was probably a s urgeon. 'He's a s ort of doc tor, you know,' s he told m e. 'Y es , I thought he m ight be. B ut what about you?' 'Oh, I'm not very im portant,' s he s aid, in a m atter-of-fac t voic e. 'W ell, I think you are and I bet your teac hers and your parents think you are too and that grandpa of yours . I rec kon he thinks you are very s pec ial as well.' 'My firs t nam e is India and I'm nam ed after a c ountry,' s he told m e. I leaned ac ros s the table and whis pered c onfidentially, 'W ell, m y firs t nam e is Gervas e and I'm nam ed after a yoghurt.' T he c hild giggled. 'Y ou're not really nam ed after a yoghurt, are you? P eople aren't nam ed after yoghurts .' 'W hen m y m other was expec ting m e, India,' I told her, putting on a very s erious expres s ion, 's he had a pas s ion for a partic ular Frenc h yoghurt c alled "Gervais ", and for broc c oli. I think I did pretty well with the nam e s he pic ked, don't you?' 'I know what you are, Mr P hinn,' s aid India, giggling and pointing a little finger at m e. 'Do you?' 'You're like m y grandpa, Mr P hinn. You're a teas e. He takes m e for long walks and tells m e about all s orts of things , m y grandpa, and s om etim es he teas es m e, like when he s aid he was s wallowed by a whale and it took him to the S outh S eas and he was s tranded on a des ert is land and m et thes e pirates . He's a lot of fun, m y grandpa.' I bet he's not a lot of fun in the c ourtroom , I thought to m ys elf, in his wig, long red dres s and buc kled s hoes . T here would be no teas ing then. 'A nd do you like to be teas ed, India?' 'Y es , I do rather, it's fun. T hat's if it's not c ruel. Grandpa s ays you s houldn't teas e people about the way they look.' 'No, it's not nic e to teas e s om ebody in that way,' I agreed. 'Mrs Mc Guire s ays there are m uc h better words to us e than "nic e", Mr P hinn.' 'S o I believe,' I replied. 'B enedic t's already had a word with m e about that.' 'A nd grandpa s ays that we're all different and that's why the world is s uc h a wonderful plac e. "B ig or s m all, s hort or tall, blac k or white, dark or light, God loves us all." T hat's what grandpa s ays .' 'He's a very wis e m an, your grandpa, India,' I told her. 'T hey've put s pec ial ram ps in the s c hool for m e, you know,' s aid the little girl proudly. 'Y es , I know.' 'A nd a s pec ial toilet and a s tair lift.' 'A nd are you m anaging to us e them all right?' I as ked. 'Oh yes , they're fine, but the toilet is a bit of a nuis anc e. You s ee, they've m ade the toilet s eat about as high as the s eat on m y wheelc hair. W ell, m y wheelc hair has foot-res ts whic h are quite high off the ground. T hat m eans when I'm s itting on the toilet m y legs s ort of dangle down. It's quite unc om fortable. T hen the was hbas in is on the wall oppos ite to the towel. I was h m y hands and then have to wheel over the other s ide to dry m y hands . I think it would have been a good idea for the builders to have had a word with m e before they put the toilet in.' S he thought for a m om ent. 'B ut, I'm very pleas ed really and everybody's very nic e here - whoops ! I m ean very friendly. It's people outs ide s c hool that get on m y nerves a bit.' 'In what way?' I as ked. 'I jus t wis h they would believe m e when I tell them things .' 'W hat do you m ean, India?' I as ked. 'If I'm in m y wheelc hair in a s hop and s om eone c om es along, a grown-up that is , and s ays , "A re you all right?" and I s ay, "Y es , I'm fine, thank you," then they always s ay, "A re you s ure?" and I s ay, "Y es . I'm s ure." T hen I s tart to wheel m ys elf along and they s ay, "Here, let m e help you," and I s ay, "I'm all right, really. I c an m anage." A nd then they s ay, "It's no bother," and then they pus h m e along.' 'W ell, India,' I told her, 'you've given m e quite a lot to think about.' A nd indeed s he had. I have m et a num ber of dis abled youngs ters over the years and, without exc eption, they have been good-hum oured and extrem ely pos itive. T he problem s fac ed by India, of c ours e, are not unus ual. A c c es s is often denied to thos e with dis abilities and they fac e a whole raft of c hallenges and hurdles , in partic ular ac hieving the independenc e they s o des ire. T he diffic ulties fac ed by the dis abled are not of their own m aking; they are the res ult of the way they are treated by the able-bodied. In m y firs t year of teac hing, I rem em ber m eeting J ohn, a s eventeen-year-old with c erebral pals y. J ohn's c ondition m ade it hard for him to c ontrol his m us c les and m ovem ents and s om etim es he would s hout out involuntarily. He was a highly intelligent boy with a wic ked s ens e of hum our and a perm anent s m ile. He would c areer down the c orridors of the s c hool like a c harioteer at the Rom an gam es , totally fearles s and at a frightening s peed. He took part in as m any s ports as he c ould, ac ted in the s c hool dram a produc tions , s ang in the c hoir and annihilated anyone foolis h enough take him on at c hes s . He des pis ed the word "s pas tic " with all its negative c onnotations . I rec all one m em orable oc c as ion, in a General S tudies les s on, when we were debating the depic tion of people on the televis ion and in film s . J ohn, as always , brought a fres h pers pec tive to our dis c us s ions . 'How m any dis abled people,' he had as ked, 'do you s ee on the s c reen? A nd if they do appear, how m any are different from the s tereotypic al long-s uffering, perm anently c heerful invalid in the wheelc hair who s hows everyone els e what c ourage and s uffering are really like? A nd,' he had c ontinued, 'how m any of thes e roles are ac tually played by dis abled ac tors ?' B efore going on to univers ity, J ohn rec eived the prize at the s c hool's S peec h Day, for the bes t exam ination res ults in his year. He s ped ac ros s the s c hool s tage, exec uted a perfec t turn in his wheelc hair and c am e to a s kidding halt in front of a s tartled Lord Mayor who was pres enting the awards . J ohn rec eived the s ilver c up, his c ertific ates and a book token for his outs tanding ac adem ic ac hievem ent. 'W hile I have this opportunity, your wors hipful,' he had s aid, 'm ay I as k you to us e your influenc e to get a better ram p fitted in the public library.' T he headm as ter later rem arked that the Cam bridge dons did not know what they were letting them s elves in for. During the afternoon break, I wandered around the playground with Mrs Mc Guire. T he c hildren, well wrapped up agains t the c old, were c learly enjoying the fifteen m inutes of freedom from their s tudies . 'It's s o good to s ee the c hildren s kipping and playing hops c otc h and other traditional gam es ,' I told her. 'S o m any have dis appeared.' 'Indeed,' replied Mrs Mc Guire. W e paus ed at the edge of the playground. 'E very tim e I look at that view,' s he s aid, 'I tell m ys elf how very luc ky I am to be teac hing here. It's s o fres h and c lean and peac eful.' W e s tared together at the pale green fields with grazing s heep, s tretc hing away beneath a c loudles s blue s ky. Later that afternoon I s at with the headteac her to talk about the day I had s pent in the s c hool and India, of c ours e, c ropped up. 'My goodnes s ,' s ighed Mrs Mc Guire, 'you would not believe the diffic ulties we had getting the powers that be to agree to the alterations to ac c om m odate that one little girl. T he s c hool was only built a little m ore than a c entury ago and it's not lis ted or anything but you'd think it was York Mins ter or S kipton Cas tle, the trouble we had obtaining perm is s ion to m ake the m inor c hanges to the s truc ture, to ins tall the s tair lift, widen the doors , things like that. I m ean, it was n't as if we were taking a s ledge-ham m er to s om e religious s hrine and knoc king down s om ething irreplac eable.' S he m us t have s een the expres s ion on m y fac e. 'A re you all right, Mr P hinn?' s he as ked. 'Y ou've gone quite pale.' I dec ided to take David's advic e and when I got bac k to the offic e that afternoon I went in s earc h of old P erkins - or J as per P erkins , to be c orrec t - in the A rc hitec ts ' Departm ent. Mr P erkins was a delightful and erudite gentlem an whom I dis c overed poring over a large m ap in a s m all offic e tuc ked away at the very rear of County Hall. I explained about the c hapel and waited in trepidation for his c ons idered opinion. 'Do you like to be teas ed, Mr P hinn?' he as ked, ec hoing m y words to India earlier that day. 'I'm s orry, Mr P erkins ?' 'Teas ed. Do you like your leg pulled?' He c huc kled. 'I think you've got friends with very vivid im aginations or ones that enjoy a little rus e. Firs tly, s peaking as a lay preac her of s om e thirty years , I know of no Methodis t c hapel on your property. T here are two c hapels in Hawks rill, if m y m em ory s erves m e aright. I've preac hed at both. T here's the P rim itive Methodis t on S hire Lane and then the W es leyan Methodis t on S nig Hill. A s for the Reverend J es s op c onduc ting s om e s ort of s ervic e up where you live, I think it extrem ely unlikely. He's not in the bes t of health and he's got quite enough on, m anaging the two c hapels in the village, without taking on a third. He did attem pt to am algam ate the two c hapels , you know, but traditions die hard and both c ongregations dug their heels in. B ut, that's another m atter. A nyway, Mr P hinn, I am pretty c ertain that there was no third Methodis t c hapel in Hawks rill. Now, s peaking as an arc hitec t, you would have been m ade fully aware when you purc has ed the property that this was a lis ted building or a s ite of partic ular his toric al interes t. T here have been a few oc c as ions when s om e buildings have been dem olis hed by ac c ident and one or two that have s lipped through the net, but they are very few and far between. I think you c an res t as s ured that you won't be loc ked up for the des ec ration of a c hurc h.' 'T hank you s o m uc h, Mr P erkins ,' I s aid, s haking his hand vigorous ly. 'Y ou don't know what a weight you have lifted off m y s houlders . I owe you a drink.' Mr P erkins rais ed an eyebrow and gave a wry little s m ile. 'I'm a Methodis t, Mr P hinn, rem em ber.' T here would have been a veritable s pring in m y s tep as I m ade m y way down the top c orridor of County Hall that afternoon had it not been for the s wollen knee whic h was s till extraordinarily painful. I had ignored Chris tine's advic e about going to the doc tor but now determ ined to m ake an appointm ent jus t as s oon as I got bac k to the offic e. I s topped in m y trac ks , however, when I turned a c orner. Outs ide Com m ittee Room One, a group of c ounc illors was huddled around a loud ges tic ulating individual in a baggy tweed s uit. A lthough he had his bac k to m e, I rec ognis ed ins tantly the bull nec k whic h overlapped the c ollar, the m op of unnaturally jet blac k hair and the bom bas tic voic e. It was Counc illor George P eters on. I had c om e ac ros s Counc illor P eters on a good few tim es before and he always m anaged to m ake m y hac kles ris e with his c lever c om m ents and tas teles s obs ervations . T here s eem ed no way that I c ould avoid him but I was going to m ake a determ ined effort anyway. S o I quic kly c ontinued down the c orridor, lim ping but walking on the balls of m y feet s o m y heels would not betray m y pres enc e and looking down as if I were preoc c upied in s om e knotty problem . I s ailed pas t the c abal and thought that I had not been s een, but as I reac hed the top of the long c urved s tairc as e, a voic e ec hoed down the c orridor. 'Hey! Hey! Mr P hinn. Not tryin' to avoid m e, are you?' I turned round to fac e the group and gave a watery s m ile. 'Counc illor P eters on.'

'You were goin' at a fair lic k. I'll walk ac ros s to t'ins pec tors ' offic e wi' you. I've got a m eetin' with Dr Yeats .' He turned to his c om panions . 'W e'll rais e it at t'next m eetin', Horac e,' he s aid to one of his fellow c ounc illors , before s triding towards m e. 'T his is a right c arry-on about thes e s c hool c los ures , in't it?' he s aid as we des c ended the s tairs together. 'Y es , it's very unfortunate,' I replied, negotiating the s teps . 'W hat's up wi' yer leg?' he as ked. 'Oh, I had an ac c ident,' I told him . 'I banged it. Nothing s erious .' 'A ye, well, I was jus t s ayin', it's a right c arry-on about thes e s c hool c los ures .' T he leas t I s aid the better, I thought. 'Y es , it is .' 'W e've jus t 'ad an hextrahordinary m eeting of the S ub-Com m ittee about it. It's a right c an of worm s and no m is take.' He m ade no attem pt to hide his anger. He puffed out his c heeks , s hook his head and grim ac ed theatric ally. 'Feelings are running very high,' I rem arked, looking into the red m eaty fac e. 'T oo right, they are, and I'll tell you what s c hool is t'fly in t'ointm ent. It's Hawks rill. E verybody bar the c at and its m other is gettin' in its two pennyworth about t'c los ure of that partic ular s c hool and it's turning very nas ty.' 'I'm s orry to hear that.' 'W e've 'ad c ountles s late m eetings of t'S ub-Com m ittee, letters of protes t, pic tures in t'paper of people wi' plac ards . T hat Chairm an of Governors , Reverend B raybrook, has put it on t'agenda of t'full E duc ation Com m ittee and when 'e gets s tarted there's no s toppin' 'im . 'E thinks 'e's in 'is pulpit.' T hos e in glas s hous es , I thought. 'W e've 'ad t'loc al m em ber of parliam ent writin' m e notes and Lord Marric k grum bling at m e down t'phone and next week, blow m e, if one of thes e HMIs is n't c om in' up from London to s ee m e about it - wom an with a funny nam e and a very s harp m anner.' 'Mis s de la Mare?' 'A ye, that's 'er. A nybody'd think I was doin' this to be awkward. A nyroad, I don't s uppos e I s hould be tellin' you all this .' 'A nd why is that Counc illor P eters on?' I enquired. W e s topped at the bottom of the s tairs . 'B ec aus e it m ight get bac k to t'oppos ition.' 'Meaning?' 'Meanin' that that wife of yours and 'er protes t group are c aus in' all t'trouble, s tirrin' things up.' My hac kles began to ris e but I kept c alm , breathed out s lowly and looked him in the eye. 'I c an as s ure you, Counc illor P eters on, I have not dis c us s ed the s ituation with m y wife or anyone els e, for that m atter. Like you, I gues s , I keep County Counc il bus ines s to m ys elf and do not talk to her about s uc h things .' 'T hat's as m ay be, but that wife of yours gave m e a real grillin' at t'public m eetin' and you don't even 'ave kiddies at t's c hool.' 'No, but we will have or would have had, I s hould s ay. P eople in the village feel very s trongly about the s c hool c los ing. It's at the very heart of the c om m unity and it's us ed for all m anner of ac tivities and events . More im portantly, Hawks rill is an exc ellent s c hool as all the reports s how. In fac t, it's one of the bes t s c hools I have vis ited.' 'Yes , yes , I know all that, but it's s m all, very s m all and it's too unec onom ic al to keep it goin'. W hat your wife and thes e protes tors don't s eem to realis e is that we 'ave to c ut c os ts . I don't want to c los e a s c hool any m ore than you do, but we 'ave to s ave m oney s om ehow and that's t'top and bottom of it. You s hould per'aps 'ave a quiet word with your wife and tell 'er to go eas y.' 'Counc illor, gone are the days when a hus band tells his wife what to do.' I was c ertain that the c ounc illor him s elf did not go around giving orders to Mrs P eters on. S he was the headteac her of Highc ops e County P rim ary S c hool and a fierc e and form idable wom an. 'I am s ure you realis e, Mr P hinn, that s hould s he keep up this pres s ure, it c ould m ake it tric ky for you.' 'In what way?' 'W ell, if you were to get Dr Y eats 's job, you'll be t'one that 'as to deal wi' t'c los ures . 'A s that c ros s ed your m ind?' 'Y es , it has ,' I replied. 'I m ean, you c an't be on t's ide of t'angels and drink wi' t'devil and it's not goin' to do m uc h for m arital harm ony, you at loggerheads with your wife about Hawks rill S c hool, is it?' 'T hat s ituation will not aris e,' I as s ured him . 'Oh, but it c ould. A fter the las t fias c o when we appointed that Mr Carter who gave bac k-word - and I never really took to 'im - then you m ight find yours elf t'new S enior Ins pec tor and that m eans that you'll 'ave to deal with all this . It'll be you who's in c harge of c los in' t's c hool.' 'I repeat, that s ituation won't aris e,' I told him . I looked him in the fac e. 'Y ou s ee, I don't intend applying for Dr Y eats 's job. Good afternoon, Counc illor P eters on.' W ith that I lim ped off towards the c ar park.

14 'A re you doing anything this S aturday?' T he ques tion, from the Head of the E nglis h Fac ulty at T he Lady Cavendis h High S c hool for Girls , took m e rather by s urpris e. I had obs erved Mis s B ridges 's les s ons the previous year and judged them to be s om e of the bes t I had ever s een. I had rather expec ted this dim inutive s c hoolm a'am with the pale, indrawn fac e, dark eyes and thic k iron-grey hair s c raped bac k into a tight little bun, to be a rather dry and c rus ty individual and that her les s ons would be dull in the extrem e. A ppearanc es c an, of c ours e, be dec eptive, and the talented Mis s B ridges turned out to be lively, am us ing and im m ens ely enthus ias tic . S he was quite c learly idolis ed by the s tudents s he taught and their exam ination res ults were outs tanding. Now, here s he was on the phone as king m e out. 'S aturday?' I s aid. 'T hat's right. A re you free this S aturday? Let m e explain. I am taking a party of s enior girls to s ee the Royal S hakes peare Com pany's m atinee perform anc e of K ing Lear at S tratford-upon-A von and I have a c ouple of s pare tic kets . T wo s tudents c an't c om e at the las t m om ent. It's s uc h a pity to let the tic kets go to was te and I thought, s inc e you are s om ething of a S hakes peare afic ionado, you and your wife m ight c are to join us . I did s o enjoy m eeting you when you vis ited LCHS las t year. A ls o, it would be good to have s om e m ore adults with us . Our girls are extrem ely s ens ible, of c ours e, but one never knows when em ergenc ies m ight aris e and it's always good to have another pair of hands .' 'W ell, that's very kind of you, Mis s B ridges ,' I s aid, flic king though the pages in m y des k diary. 'A c tually, Chris tine and I don't have anything on this S aturday. I'm s ure s he would love to c om e. I c ertainly would. I haven't s een a S hakes peare play for s om e tim e. It will be a real treat.' 'S plendid! ' c ried Mis s B ridges . 'W ell, that's s ettled then. If you c ould be at the s c hool for eight of the c loc k prom pt, that will give us am ple tim e to travel down to S tratford in tim e for the m atinee perform anc e.' Chris tine was dis tinc tly lukewarm when I m entioned it to her that evening. 'It's not a barrel of laughs , K ing Lear, is it?' s he s aid gloom ily. 'W e c ould both do with being c heered up this weekend, not thoroughly depres s ed. It's all doom , gloom , treac hery and m urder, is n't it?' 'W ell, no, it's far from a c om edy,' I agreed, 'but it's s ure to be a s uperb perform anc e and a day out, away from s c hool c los ures and reports and lis ted c hapels , will buc k us both up. A nyway, it will take a lot to depres s m e at the m om ent. Dec iding not to apply for Harold's job has m ade m e alm os t light-headed. I feel like c elebrating.' I had thought long and hard about applying for the S enior Ins pec tor's pos t. I was flattered, of c ours e, that m y three c olleagues in the offic e were keen for m e to try m y hand again, and Dr Gore's c om m ents , when we dis c us s ed the K ing Henry's College report, had led m e to believe that I would be in with a s erious c hanc e this tim e. B ut then I had s een Harold's des k whic h overflowed with reports , letters of c om plaint and all m anner of offic ial doc um ents . I rem em bered his talking about the num erous problem s he had to s olve - 'S om etim es ,' he had s aid, 'I feel like a glorified agony aunt' - and, of c ours e, the endles s late night m eetings . I had s een how wearied he had bec om e by all the pres s ure and s tres s , and how m uc h he was looking forward to his retirem ent. T his tim e, I had not taken long to c om e to the c onc lus ion that Chris tine was right and that I s hould not apply. I had quite enough on m y plate with a new wife, new hous e, and a baby on the way. Maybe another opportunity would aris e one day, when things were m ore s ettled. 'I really am pleas ed about you not going for the job,' s aid Chris tine now, giving m e a pec k on the c heek. 'S o, are we on for S tratford?' I as ked. 'W ould you m ind awfully if I didn't go?' Chris tine s aid. 'It's jus t that B aby P hinn is a bit tiring at tim es and m y bladder is a bit unpredic table in m y pres ent c ondition. I need to be in c los e proxim ity to a loo. I really c ouldn't fac e a long c oac h journey at the m om ent.' 'Of c ours e! ' I c ried, 'I never thought. I'm s orry, darling. I'll ring Mis s B ridges and tell her we c an't go.' 'I'm the one who's pregnant,' s aid Chris tine. 'Y ou go. I've got lots to do. It will take you out of yours elf. Y ou des erve a bit of a break. A c tually, I thought I m ight do a bit of early Chris tm as s hopping in Fettles ham this weekend before all the c rowds s tart.' 'A re you s ure you don't m ind m e going?' 'Of c ours e I don't m ind.' S o, early on the S aturday m orning, I duly arrived at the c ar park of the vas t, m oc k-Gothic edific e with its ugly redbric k towers and turrets , whic h was T he Lady Cavendis h High S c hool for Girls . I had c ontac ted Mis s B ridges , as king her to find s om eone to take Chris tine's plac e. T he Head of the E nglis h Fac ulty, wrapped up like an A rc tic explorer, greeted m e warm ly and introduc ed m e to her c olleagues , Mis s P ike and Mrs Roac he. 'Quite a fis hy c ollec tion of teac hers ,' s he s aid, c huc kling, 'and now we have Mr P hinn. V ery apt. W e're jus t waiting for Mrs Todd, who's gone to powder her nos e, then we c an be on our way. Mrs Todd us ed to teac h at the big c om prehens ive and is c overing for a teac her on m aternity leave. I thought s he m ight like to s tep into the breac h and join our party. I believe you m et her when you ins pec ted K ing Henry's in S eptem ber.' 'Y es , I did,' I replied. 'Y ou c aus ed quite a s tir, I hear,' s aid Mis s B ridges , a wry s m ile on the s m all lips . 'I don't know about that.' 'W ell, whatever they s aid about you,' s aid Mis s B ridges , 'I found you very agreeable.' W hic h m ade m e wonder jus t exac tly what they had s aid about m e. I gues s the s taff thought I was s om ething of a 'hatc het m an'. 'Mrs Todd's hus band's a s urgeon at Fettles ham Royal Infirm ary, you know,' c ontinued the teac her, 'and s he has four very c lever s ons .' 'S o I believe,' I s aid. 'A h, here s he is now! ' c ried Mis s B ridges . 'S hall we get on the c oac h? T he girls are aboard already and are exc ited to get going.' S he looked for a m om ent at the c raggy-fac ed individual with an enorm ous protruding s tom ac h and greas y blac k hair s lic ked bac k on his head, who was leaning by the door of the c oac h and puffing m ightily on a large pipe. Clouds of evil-s m elling s m oke filled the air. 'I do hope the driver will be all right,' s he added s otto v oc e.'A ll our regular drivers were already booked - s om e im portant football gam e, I believe.' 'I'm s ure he'll be fine,' I s aid. 'A re we all s et then?' the driver s houted as Mis s B ridges , her c olleagues and I approac hed him . 'A ll pres ent and c orrec t, Mr Mitc hell,' the teac her told him , waving her hand in front of her fac e to diffus e the s m og. 'A nd 'ave all t'girls paid a vis it before they got on? I don't want to 'ave toilet s tops all t'way down. Las t s c hool party I took, they were on and off t'c oac h like a fiddler's elbow. T hey were jum ping on t's eats , running up and down t'ais le, dropping litter, pulling fac es out o' t'winder, m ekkin an 'ell of a rac ket. I tell you, s c hool parties are not m y idea of fun. OA P s , now, they're t'bes t.' 'I have m ade c ertain that the girls have all done what is nec es s ary, Mr Mitc hell,' Mis s B ridges as s ured him . 'A nd you c an be c ertain there will be no jum ping up and down or unnec es s ary nois e.' 'A nd you've m entioned t'litter?' 'I've m entioned the litter.' 'A nd told 'em not to s tand up and bloc k m i view?' 'T hey are well aware of that, too.' 'A nd there's no s m oking on t'c oac h,' he s aid, exhaling a c loud of pungent s m oke. 'No s m oking,' repeated the teac her. 'V ery s ens ible. It's s uc h an unpleas ant habit.' T he pointed rem ark was los t on him and he blew out another c loud of s m oke. 'A nd they know where t's ic k buc ket is ?' 'A ll has been explained,' s aid Mis s B ridges im patiently, 's o c ould we m ake a m ove, do you think?' 'B ec aus e c leaning vom it off s eats is not s om ething I take kindly to and t'las t s c hool party I 'ad on 'ere -' 'S hall we get going?' I c ould s ee by Mis s B ridges 's twitc hy m anner and inc reas ingly exas perated c ountenanc e that s he was getting irritated. T he driver looked to be in no great hurry. He blew out his c heeks , tapped his pipe on the s ide of the c oac h and looked at the s ky with a m artyred expres s ion on his fac e. 'Looks like rain,' he s aid grim ly. I c lim bed up the s teps of the c oac h and fac ed rows of young wom en all in identic al c lean white blous es and yellow ties , dark green pinafore dres s es and m atc hing berets whic h dis played, in gold, the Lady Cavendis h s c hool badge. A hus h des c ended, and as I m ade m y way down the ais le to s it in m y des ignated s eat on the bac k row next to Mrs T odd, I felt thirty pairs of eyes trained on m e. Mis s B ridges was the las t on the c oac h. S he did a quic k head c ount, s m iled widely and s aid, 'W ell, girls , I think we are all s et. A s you will have obs erved, we have a gentlem an with us for the trip, in addition to our driver, of c ours e. S om e of you m ight rec all s eeing Mr P hinn when he vis ited the s c hool las t year to c arry out an ins pec tion. Do m ake him feel welc om e, won't you? He's s om ething of an expert on the bard s o you m ay like to as k him about the play we are to s ee. I am s ure he is a m ine of inform ation.' S he turned to the driver. 'Lead on, Mac duff.' 'E h?' 'W e c an go now, Mr Mitc hell, when you are quite ready.' A s the c oac h wound its way in an autum n drizzle down the long gravel drive and through the ornate wrought-iron s c hool gates , I s at bac k, s ighed c ontentedly and looked forward to a relaxing journey. W e pas s ed the enorm ous ly vulgar s tatue of the founder of the s c hool, S ir Cos m o Cavendis h, s tanding, legs apart on his plinth, glowering at the world. A pigeon s at on his fat head. It was n't long before Mrs T odd rais ed the s pec tre of Mr Frobis her. 'He was not the eas ies t m an to get along with, you know,' s he told m e. 'I'm s ure you m us t have found him diffic ult?' 'W ell, I only m et him the onc e and, to be frank, ins pec tors are rarely rec eived with open arm s .' I thought it bes t to be very guarded in what I s aid to Mrs T odd. Dis c us s ing a teac her with another, des pite the fac t that he had left the s c hool, s eem ed to m e to be highly unprofes s ional. I therefore c ontented m ys elf with nodding and grunting. 'I think the bottom line was that the m an lac ked a s ens e of hum our, whic h to m e is perhaps the m os t im portant c harac teris tic in a good teac her. He found diffic ulty in relating to the m em bers of his departm ent and to the older s tudents . S om e of the older boys ribbed him unm erc ifully.' I began to feel quite s orry for the m an. 'He took everything s o very s erious ly. Of c ours e, his hom e life is n't at all happy, I gather. His wife is n't a well wom an and I think s he is rather dem anding and pos s es s ive. I only m et her the onc e, at a m us ic rec ital, and I had to endure a diatribe about how dis appointed s he was that her hus band never m ade it to heads hip, how he c ould have been m ore am bitious and how undervalued he was . S he told m e that all he ever s eem ed to think about thes e days was his c loc ks .' 'Cloc ks ?' 'He c ollec ts c loc ks ,' Mrs T odd told m e. 'He has quite a c ollec tion I believe.' I felt even m ore s orry for Mr Frobis her as the s tory unfolded. I thought of Chris tine and all her s upport and enc ouragem ent. How luc ky I was . 'Y our vis it c ertainly threw the c at am ongs t the pigeons , I c an tell you,' c ontinued m y c om panion, 'but it had the des ired effec t. Mr Frobis her upped and res igned. T hey've jus t advertis ed for the head of departm ent pos ition.' 'S o I hear,' I s aid. I attem pted to c hange the s ubjec t. 'T eenage boys c an be diffic ult to handle,' I obs erved. 'A nd girls ,' s he added. 'Y es , and girls .' 'My philos ophy with regard to adoles c ents going through that problem atic s tage in their lives ,' Mrs Todd inform ed m e, 'is to bac k off, lighten up and c alm down. It's always worked with m y four boys . Life is too s hort to get all worked up about an untidy bedroom , the oc c as ional bac kc hat and the odd drunken night out. It's a phas e they go through, a young pers on's reac h towards adulthood.' A ppearanc es c an indeed be dec eptive, I thought. Mrs Todd, elegant, m iddle-aged, im m ac ulately dres s ed, s om eone who would not have looked out of plac e at a Mothers ' Union m eeting, did not look at all like the eas y-going and unflappable pers on I was now hearing. 'W ell, you c ertainly handled your s tudents well,' I told her. 'Y our c las s was extrem ely well-behaved.' 'I have had a lot of experienc e,' s he told m e. 'I s tarted m y teac hing c areer in a very tough inner-c ity boys ' s c hool. It was a baptis m of fire. T he s tories I c ould tell! T he boys were always at great pains to s hoc k m e, a young wom an teac her s traight out of c ollege, and were rather dis appointed and not a little s urpris ed when I didn't ris e to their little gam es . I rec all onc e, a boy nam ed appropriately Duane P ratt, arriving at m y room with a c ondom over his head.' 'A c ondom ! ' I exc laim ed. T he two girls in front turned round and gave m e a very s trange look. 'Yes ,' s aid Mrs Todd, without the s lightes t trac e of em barras s m ent. 'He was a s m all, s illy little boy and I gues s s om eone had put him up to it. He was n't c lever enough to think of it him s elf. A nyhow, he walked in with this bright-pink c ondom s tretc hed tightly over his head like a c ap. He looked like Noddy s itting there at the front des k grinning inanely at m e.' 'W hatever did you do?' 'Nothing.' 'Nothing?' 'Nothing,' s he repeated. 'T he c las s all waited for m y outraged reac tion but I jus t ignored him , gave out the books and s tarted the les s on.' 'Y ou jus t ignored him ?' 'I m os t c ertainly did. I c ould s ee it was not the m os t c om fortable of headgear and it was n't long before he began to find it s om ewhat c ons tric ting. His fac e took on a s ort of red tinge, I rem em ber. I s hould think a c ondom on one's head would be quite painful after a while. T he s illy boy s at it out, right through to the end of the les s on. He didn't want to los e fac e with his pals , you s ee. W hen the bell went and he headed for the door, I c alled him over. "Duane," I s aid, "do you know, you have given a whole new m eaning to the term 'dic khead'." 'I s pluttered with laughter and the girls in the s eats in front of us giggled. 'I am a teac her, Mr P hinn, who does like to have the las t laugh.' A fter a c ouple of hours we s topped at a s ervic e s tation on the Mi for us all to s tretc h our legs . T he girls and s taff dis pers ed in the direc tion of the Ladies , the c oac h driver dis appeared, pres um ably for a s m oke s om ewhere, and I headed for the telephones bec aus e I was anxious to know that Chris tine was all right. I felt a bit guilty about leaving her at hom e while I was out 'gallivanting', as m y m other would have s aid. I was the las t bac k on the c oac h bec aus e I had had to wait behind a long queue of people at the telephone kios ks , and it was only when the c oac h was s peeding along the m otorway that I realis ed that I wanted to go to the lavatory. A s the c oac h s teadily c loc ked up the m iles , I bec am e inc reas ingly unc om fortable and kept c ros s ing and unc ros s ing m y legs to try and eas e the pain in m y c om plaining bladder. 'A re you not c om fortable there, Mr P hinn?' as ked Mrs T odd, after witnes s ing m y c ontortions . 'Y es , yes , I'm fine,' I s aid, giving a pained s m ile. 'I've got a bit of a knee problem , s ort of twinges . A n old rugby ac c ident. Cartilage trouble.' 'Y ou s hould get it s een to. My hus band's a s urgeon at the hos pital. He's always telling m e that torn c artilages are one of his s pec ialities .' 'Y es , I intend to,' I s aid. T he dis c om fort got wors e and wors e. I jus t had to go to the lavatory or I would burs t. 'I s uppos e we'll be s topping for lunc h s oon,' I s aid c as ually to Mrs T odd. 'Oh no,' s he replied. 'W e s han't be s topping now until we get to S tratford. W e'll eat our s andwic hes there on the lawn in front of the theatre, jus t by the river. I love the waters of the A von, don't you?' 'Y es , indeed,' I m outhed. T he pain in m y bladder was bec om ing unbearable. I jus t had to go to the lavatory. T hen I thought of the m os t horrendous s c enario: m e s tanding by the s ide of the road doing what I had to do with thirty girls and four wom en teac hers s taring out of the c oac h window in am azem ent. T he em barras s m ent, the indignity, the s ham e! No, I would have to think of s om ething. I teetered down to the front of the c oac h until I was on the s tep next to the driver. 'Oi! ' he c ried. 'Nobody's s uppos ed to c om e beyond that point bac k there. T here's a notic e. "Don't dis trac t the driver when the vehic le is in m otion." It's a s afety hazard.' 'T his is an em ergenc y,' I whis pered. 'Oh, bloody 'ell! ' he exc laim ed, beginning to brake. "A s s om eone been s ic k?' 'No, no. I have to go to the toilet.' 'T oilet! ' he exc laim ed loudly. 'I have to go,' I whis pered in his ear. 'I'm des perate.' 'Didn't you 'ear what I s aid when we was s etting off? I s aid m ake s ure -' 'Y es , yes , I know, and I'm truly s orry but I'm fit to burs ting.' 'W ell, I c an't jus t s top 'ere and there's no s ervic es on this s tretc h of m otorway. Y ou'll jus t 'ave to c ros s your legs and wait till I get to a c aff' 'I c an't wait,' I s aid between gritted teeth. 'W ell, I'm not s topping on t'hard s houlder. I'd get done for that.' 'Look, I really am des perate.' T here was a pathetic pleading in m y voic e. 'P leas e.' 'W ell, I'll tell you what I c an do. I'll get off and go via Coventry. T here's a c ar park and toilets in t' c athedral prec inc ts .' 'Oh, thank you, thank you,' I s aid. 'B ut you'll 'ave to c lear it with t'm is s us bac k there.' I tiptoed down the ais le until I arrived at Mis s B ridges . 'I was jus t talking to the driver, Mis s B ridges ,' I s aid c as ually, 's inc e I thought it m ight be a good idea to break our journey at Coventry and s ee the wonderful c athedral.' 'Oh, I don't know. It's not on the program m e,' s aid the teac her. 'I know, but this is an opportunity not to be m is s ed. Have you been to Coventry Cathedral, Mis s B ridges ?' 'W ell, no, I haven't.' 'T he c athedral is quite s tunning and we have plenty of tim e.' 'I don't think we have, Mr P hinn,' s aid the teac her, looking at her watc h. 'Mis s B ridges , I really do think we s hould break our journey at Coventry. It would only take half an hour and it really is well worth a vis it.' S he looked a little daunted. P erhaps the tone of m y voic e was a trifle threatening. 'W ell, if you really think s o.' 'Oh, I do, I do! ' I exc laim ed. Ten m inutes later, the longes t ten m inutes in m y life, we pulled into the c ar park by the c athedral. I nearly c ried when I s aw the GE NT S s ign. A s s oon as the c oac h c am e to a halt, I leapt down the s teps and s hot off like a m an purs ued by a c harging rhinoc eros . To m y dis m ay, I heard Mis s B ridges ' voic e behind m e. 'Follow Mr P hinn, girls . Follow Mr P hinn. He's heading for the c athedral.' I turned and to m y horror s aw thirty girls in green uniform s running ac ros s the c ar park in m y direc tion. It was on the journey hom e that I m ade a fool of m ys elf again. W e had s topped at another s ervic e s tation for a s hort break and what Mr Mitc hell des c ribed as a 'toilet s top'. I did not like the way the bus driver, em phas is ing the phras e 'toilet s top', looked pointedly at m e. I was heading bac k to the c oac h when I was approac hed by a very dis tres s ed-looking young wom an. 'E xc us e m e,' s he s aid, 'I'm m os t terribly s orry to trouble you, but I wonder c ould you as s is t m e?'

'Y es , of c ours e,' I s aid. 'How c an I help?' 'W ell,' explained the wom an. 'I've been really, really s illy. I'm in a terrible fix. I jus t c an't get into m y c ar. T he key won't work in the loc k. I've tried and tried but it jus t won't open the door. A re you any good with keys ?' 'Oh, it's probably frozen up,' I told her, s m iling reas s uringly. 'B ut it's not that c old, is it?' 'Loc ks c an be tem peram ental,' I told her. 'Don't worry, I'm s ure with a bit of m anipulating I'll get the door open for you.' 'T hank you s o m uc h,' s he s aid. Her c ar, a s m all red T oyota, was parked near the c oac h. I took the key from her, twis ted and turned, pus hed and pulled, but to no avail. 'It jus t does n't s eem to work,' I s aid. 'T his is awful,' m oaned the wom an. 'I'm off to s ee m y m other in Nottingham and s he worries s o. S he's not on the phone, you s ee. A nd all m y work papers and handbag and everything are in the c ar.' Her eyes began to fill up. 'I don't know what to do.' 'Don't worry,' I s aid. 'W e'll get it open.' I tried another door, again twis ting and turning, pus hing and pulling. T hen there was a s nap. 'Das h it! ' I exc laim ed. 'I've broken the key off in the loc k.' 'Oh no,' groaned the wom an. 'Now what do I do?' 'Look,' I s aid, 'there's an RA C m an in the s ervic e s tation. I'll get him .' On the way bac k to the m ain building, I s topped at the c oac h and explained the s ituation to Mis s B ridges and the bus driver. Neither s eem ed all that pleas ed. 'S o 'ow long are we going to be waiting 'ere?' as ked Mr Mitc hell, puffing out his c heeks and looking heavenwards with a m artyred expres s ion. 'I've got a s c hedule to keep.' 'A nd the girls ' parents will get worried if we are not bac k on tim e,' added Mis s B ridges . 'Y es , yes , I know,' I told them . 'T his will only take a m om ent. I'll get the RA C m an and leave him to s ort it out.' If only it had been that s im ple. T he RA C m an and his young c olleague s c rutinis ed the loc k. 'Y ou've broken the key off,' the older one c onc luded. 'Y es , yes , I know,' I s aid. I felt like s aying, thank you for telling m e the blindingly bloody obvious . 'Oh yes , s napped c lean off. It's no good being heavy-handed with keys , you know,' he told m e, like a headteac her c has tis ing a naughty s c hoolboy. 'T hes e m ec hanis m s are very delic ate.' 'A nd T oyota c ars are the devil's own job to get into,' added his young c om panion. 'Can you get into the c ar?' I as ked. 'Oh, I c an get into the vehic le all right,' s aid the older m an, s m iling. 'T hank goodnes s for that,' I s ighed. 'Y ou s hould have c om e to m e in the firs t plac e.' He s tared at the loc k for what felt like an inordinate am ount of tim e. 'T here is , of c ours e, the s m all problem of needing the key to drive and you broke it off.' 'Oh dear, yes ,' I s aid. 'Y ou s hould have c om e to us firs t thing,' s aid his c om panion, 'then this wouldn't have happened. A re you a m em ber of the RA C, by the way?' 'Y es , I am ,' I replied. 'A nd are you fully c overed for roads ide rec overy and for hom e as s is tanc e?' 'Y es , I am .' 'Could I s ee your m em bers hip c ard, pleas e s ir? I do need to m ake a note of the num ber.' 'B ut this is not m y c ar,' I explained. 'It's m ine,' piped up the wom an, who up to this point had been watc hing the proc eedings in s ilenc e with a doom -laden expres s ion on her fac e. 'I jus t as ked this gentlem an to help. I wis h I hadn't now.' 'S om e help, breaking the key off,' m um bled the older m an. 'A re you in the RA C, m adam ?' as ked the younger m an. 'No, I'm not,' s he replied, 'I've always m eant to join but -' 'T he tim es we've heard that, eh, J ac k?' s aid his c olleague, s haking his head. 'It's only in em ergenc ies like this that people wis hed they were in the RA C. S ave them a whole lot of tim e, grief, trouble and m oney if they had joined in the firs t plac e.' 'Look,' I s aid, 'c ould you s ort this out? I am with a party of thirty s c hoolgirls and really have to -' A t this point, two traffic polic em en arrived. 'W hat's the problem ?' as ked the taller of the two. 'W e're trying to get in this c ar,' explained the older RA C m an. 'B loke here broke off the key in the loc k.' 'W ho broke the key off in the loc k?' as ked the taller polic em an. 'I did but -' I s tarted. 'I told him ,' s aid the RA C m an, 'that it's no good being heavy-handed. He s hould have c om e to m e in the firs t plac e, then this wouldn't have happened.' 'It's eas y to s ay that after the event,' piped up the wom an. 'A re you s ure it's the right key?' the other polic em an as ked m e. 'It's not m y c ar,' I s aid. 'Not your c ar?' he repeated. 'W ell, what were you doing trying to get into it?' He reac hed for his poc ket book. 'It's this lady's c ar,' I s aid. 'Y es , it's m y c ar,' explained the wom an. 'A nd this m an was trying to get into your c ar, was he, m adam ?' 'Y es , that's right,' s he replied. 'I s ee.' T he polic em an flipped open the c overs of his little blac k book. 'No, no, you don't s ee,' I s pluttered. 'T his lady s topped m e as I was c om ing out of the s ervic e s tation and as ked m e to help her. S he c ouldn't get into her c ar. T he key wouldn't work.' T he s ituation was rapidly des c ending into farc e. T hen the greas y bus driver arrived. 'Look,' he s aid to m e, 'c an we get m oving? I've got a s c hedule to keep.' 'A nd who m ight you be?' as ked the s m aller of the two polic em en. 'I'm 'is driver. T here's thirty girls waiting for 'im .' T he c rowd whic h s urrounded the s m all red c ar was now joined by an elderly c ouple. T hey looked worried and c onfus ed. 'W hat's wrong?' as ked the old m an. 'T his m an's broken the key off in this lady's c ar,' s aid the older of the RA C m en. 'Her c ar?' exc laim ed the old m an. 'It's my c ar! ' Out c am e the polic em an's notebook again and as he flic ked it open there was a s ort of s hriek from behind us . 'Oh, m y goodnes s ! ' c ried the young wom an. 'It's the wrong c ar. W e've been trying to get into the wrong c ar.' S he pointed to an identic al s m all red T oyota parked further down the line of c ars . 'T hat's m ine. I rec ognis e the radio aerial.' T hen with a weak s m ile s he s aid to the s em i-c irc le, 'I'm awfully s orry. I feel s uc h a fool.' 'If you'd all like to ac c om pany m e into the s ervic e s tation,' s aid a s olem n-fac ed polic em an. 'I'll need to take s om e s tatem ents .' 'S o did you have a nic e tim e?' as ked Chris tine when I s taggered through the door later that evening. 'It was m em orable,' I told her. 'Mem orable.'

15 'W ell I think it's very s trange, very s trange indeed,' s aid S idney, twis ting a large paper c lip out of s hape. 'I c annot rec all any other oc c as ion, in all m y tim e in the s c hool ins pec torate, when this has happened. It is without prec edent.' It was Friday afternoon and Harold had c alled a m eeting for all the team at the S taff Developm ent Centre to c ons ider a new initiative from the Minis try of E duc ation. Dis c us s ion, however, c entred on the appointm ent of the new S enior Ins pec tor. 'I m us t adm it,' agreed David, who rarely endors ed anything S idney had to s ay, 'I think it is highly unus ual for an appointm ent to be m ade and not tell us who it is .' 'T he appointm ent has not been m ade,' s aid Harold. 'T he pos ition has been offered but the pers on involved has as ked for tim e to think about it and c ons ult the pres ent em ployer.' 'W ell, he s houldn't have applied for the pos t in the firs t plac e, if he was n't s ure that he wanted it,' s aid S idney, leaning bac k on his c hair. 'It's far m ore c om plic ated that that,' s aid Harold. 'T here are one or two things the s uc c es s ful c andidate wants c larifying and c ertain c onditions to be agreed by the E duc ation Com m ittee before the pers on in ques tion is prepared to take up the pos t.' 'Conditions ! ' s pluttered S idney. 'I hardly think a c andidate for a job is in a pos ition to lay down c onditions .' 'It's not that unus ual,' s aid Gerry. 'I was onc e offered a job at a univers ity and as ked for m ore generous re-loc ation expens es and to be higher up the s alary s c ale. If that hadn't been agreed, I would have withdrawn. On another oc c as ion I was offered a job and as ked for tim e to think about it. No, it's not that unus ual.' 'Y ou aren't the m ys tery c andidate are you, Geraldine?' as ked David, peering over the top of his s pec tac les . Gerry threw her head bac k and laughed. 'No! I think I have quite enough to do at the m om ent without taking on Harold's job.' 'A nd don't s tart looking at m e,' I s aid. 'A s I've told you, I didn't apply.' 'W ell, I s inc erely hope they m ake a better job of it than the las t tim e,' s aid David. 'T hat S im on Carter was a c om plete and utter dis as ter.' 'Hear, hear,' s aid S idney. 'A nd why weren't we involved?' as ked David. 'W e are always as ked for our opinions when a new c olleague is appointed. T he interviews were at County Hall - all s ec retive and c los eted away - ins tead of here at the S DC. W e never had a c hanc e to m eet the c andidates and you have told us prec ious little, Harold, about who was in for the job.' 'Y ou s hould have put in for it, Gervas e,' s aid S idney. 'I think you would have had a s trong c hanc e this tim e. J us t bec aus e you weren't s uc c es s ful before -' 'Oh, pleas e, don't s tart all that again,' I told him wearily. 'Look! ' s aid Harold, c ons ulting his watc h. 'W e really m us t pres s on. Y ou will know who it is after Chris tm as . Now, c an we addres s the tas k in hand?' 'Chris tm as ! ' s pluttered S idney. 'T he pers on appointed does not take over until E as ter, S idney, as you well know,' s aid Harold, 's o there is no m as s ive urgenc y. W e want to get it right this tim e. Now pleas e, c an we m ake a s tart? T he new initiative from the Minis try of E duc ation is c alled "S pirituality in the Curric ulum ".' 'Oh glory be,' s ighed S idney, tilting the c hair bac k even further. 'W here do they dream thes e things up from ? I'm s ure there are better things to oc c upy our tim e than this , Harold.' 'Like it or not, S idney,' Harold replied, s huffling a large m ound of papers before him , 'we are obliged to c ons ider this new direc tive when we ins pec t s c hools as from the firs t of J anuary. It is not optional, it is s tatutory.' 'B ut what, pray, has it got to do with art and des ign?' as ked S idney, s tifling a yawn. 'It has a relevanc e to all as pec ts of the c urric ulum ,' s aid Harold, 'inc luding art and des ign, and the whole point of this m eeting today is to dis c us s it, dec ide what we have to do and go through the proc edures . S o, if you would bear with m e?' 'A nd when is s he c om ing?' as ked S idney, who had now taken to twis ting an elas tic band around his fingers . 'I have as ked Mis s de la Mare,' replied Harold, glanc ing at his watc h again, 'to join our dis c us s ions when s he has finis hed a m eeting with Counc illor P eters on at County Hall.' 'T hat will be about Hawks rill,' s aid S idney. 'It's a s plendid opportunity,' c ontinued Harold, ignoring the interruption, 'while s he is in the c ounty, to pic k her brains .' 'Is there any further news on Hawks rill?' I as ked. 'No, no,' s aid Harold. 'T he S ub-Com m ittee are determ ined to pres s ahead and c los e the s c hool but there's been quite a lot of pres s ure from s o m any different groups . I believe the headteac her and her deputy are now joining the fray, threatening not to res ign if the s c hool c los es . T he MP, the rural dean, paris h c ounc illors , parents , governors - they're all queuing up to objec t. It's all m os t unfortunate and very tim e-c ons um ing.' 'Didn't I hear that your dear wife is s tirring things up?' S idney as ked m e, as blunt as ever. 'Let's not go into all that, S idney,' I pleaded. 'W ell, you did rais e the m atter.' 'No, I did not,' I s aid. 'Y ou were the firs t to m ention Hawks rill.' 'Let m e know if Chris tine s tarts c haining hers elf to the s c hool railings and burning her bra,' s aid S idney, tipping bac k on his c hair to a dangerous angle, 'and I s hall c om e out and give her s om e s upport - m oral, of c ours e. I have always thought -' 'T hat's rather a s exis t c om m ent, S idney -' began Gerry. 'Look, c an we get on,' interrupted Harold tes tily. 'A s I was s aying, Mis s de la Mare will be joining us jus t as s oon as the m eeting with Counc illor P eters on has ended.' 'W ell, if s he's c los eted with George "Gas bag" P eters on we c ould be here all night,' m oaned David. T here was an im patient intake of breath from the S enior Ins pec tor. 'A ll the m ore reas on to m ake a s tart,' s aid Harold. 'S o, before her arrival, c olleagues , I really would like to get to grips with the doc um ent whic h I hope everyone has read.' He looked at S idney s c eptic ally. 'Mis s de la Mare will then, hopefully, c larify anything we are uns ure about.' I knew the form idable W inifred de la Mare, Her Majes ty's P rinc ipal Divis ional Ins pec tor of S c hools , pretty well. My firs t enc ounter with her had been a few m onths after I had been appointed as a s c hool ins pec tor. Dr Gore had as ked m e to c o-ordinate the vis it of the Minis ter of E duc ation to the c ounty and liais e with the HMI res pons ible - Mis s de la Mare. P rior to m eeting her, I had im agined a s trapping great wom an in heavy tweeds and large brogues , with s avagely c ropped, s teely-grey hair, s m all s evere m outh and glittery eyes . S he would be entirely hum ourles s , exc eptionally c ritic al and very s hort-tem pered - the s ort of pers on to put the fear of God into anyone. In the event, Mis s de la Mare turned out to be the very oppos ite and her bark was far wors e than her bite. W hen s he had vis ited the c ounty as part of the National A rts in S c hool S urvey, s he had been s o im pres s ed with what s he had obs erved, s he had invited S idney and m e to c ontribute to a c ours e s he was direc ting in Oxford. S o, I had s een quite a lot of Mis s de la Mare over the las t three years . 'I'm s orry, Harold,' s aid S idney now, 'but I really do feel I have quite enough on m y plate without taking on yet another c oc k-eyed projec t from London, involving another m ountain of paperwork. Do we really have to do this wretc hed thing?' 'Look,' s aid Harold im patiently, 'I am not an apologis t for this Minis try of E duc ation initiative. I did not devis e it and I, like all of you, have quite enough on m y own plate at the m om ent without yet m ore work. B ut we s hall be im plem enting it, and that is an end to the m atter. W e need today to get c lear in our own m inds what it is all about before taking it to s c hools , s o c an we pleas e get on? Y ou will refer to the papers I have produc ed and handed round.' T he initiative was c alled 'S pirituality in the Curric ulum '. T he Minis try of E duc ation had as ked ins pec tors to c ons ider on eac h of their vis its , the s c hool's s trengths and weaknes s es in its provis ion of s piritual developm ent in the different s ubjec ts . Ins pec tors were as ked to evaluate how eac h s ubjec t area provided c hildren with an unders tanding of and an ins ight into m oral values and beliefs and how teac hers equipped young people to think deeply about their experienc es and feelings in s uc h a way that it developed s piritual awarenes s . E ac h vis it would be followed by a s eries of training c ours es for thos e teac hers who it was felt needed to 'inc reas e their awarenes s ' and 'im prove their c las s room prac tic e'. S idney flic ked through the papers dis m is s ively, s hook his head, leaned bac k on his c hair and yawned. Harold ignored him . 'It s ays here,' he s aid, reading from the doc um ent before him , 'that "effec tive s piritual developm ent enables young people to apprec iate, through their own thoughts and em otions , s om ething of their own life and that of others . It develops their feelings , enables them to c ope with their anxieties and fears , enc ourages them to apprec iate the divers ity of c ultures , religions and beliefs in s oc iety and helps them to know the differenc e between right and wrong." ' 'B ut s urely this is the provinc e of religious educ ation,' s aid S idney who, having inves tigated the legs of his c hair, had returned to an upright pos ition. 'I c an't s ee it has any relevanc e to art and des ign or, for that m atter, to m athem atic s or s c ienc e or m us ic or E nglis h.' 'W ould you not s ay, S idney,' s aid Geraldine who, up to this point, had been her c harac teris tic ally s ilent s elf, 'that there is m ore to art and des ign than jus t getting c hildren to draw, paint and c ons truc t?' 'I am very wary of ques tions like that, Geraldine,' replied S idney. 'I s ens e that there is s om e s ort of trap being s et.' 'S urely art is not jus t about produc ing c rafts m en or c om petent prac titioners ,' s he c ontinued. 'Does n't art als o involve reflec tion, im agination, feeling, c reativity, s ens itivity? Don't you want young people to apprec iate painting and s c ulpture and arc hitec ture? Is n't there s om ething s piritual in the Mona Lis a, in a beautiful, c arved figure by Mic helangelo, in a V an Gogh c anvas full of vibrant c olour, in a photograph of a newborn baby or a vas t panoram a? W hat about the s pirituality of the interior of Y ork Mins ter or Ripon Cathedral?' 'W ell,' c onc eded S idney, 'I s uppos e, yes , there is s om e art whic h touc hes the s oul, m oves one to a s ort of awe and wonder, and I would hope that youngs ters c om e to unders tand and apprec iate this .' 'W ell, it's the s am e in s c ienc e,' c ontinued Gerry. 'A s c ientis t us es his or her brain to s ee c aus e and effec t, gather the available evidenc e, s elec t the appropriate m aterials , follow a s eries of logic al s teps , reas on and infer and then reac h a c onc lus ion. T hat proc es s has provided the m eans for s c ientis ts to produc e s erum s to s top dis eas es , inventions to m ake our lives eas ier and happier, and m edic al treatm ents to allow c hildles s c ouples to have c hildren. It is the intellec tual s ide of our being, to do with logic , intelligenc e and thought. T here is no m oral ques tion here, no right or wrong in this . It is a m erely a s c ientific proc es s . B ut s c ienc e does n't end at this point. T here is an ethic al res pons ibility. To what us e do we put all thes e advanc es in s c ienc e? Do we us e that s erum to s ave lives or to produc e a killer virus ? Do we us e an invention like the aeroplane to m ake people's lives eas ier and m ore enjoyable or to m aim and kill them ? Do we us e our knowledge of fertility to help a des perate c ouple have a baby or to produc e c lones ? T hat is where s pirituality c om es in. It helps us dec ide. It has m ore to do with the heart than the brain. It's about right and wrong, about feelings , fears , joys , loves and hates and that is why it is im portant to fos ter it in the educ ation of young people.' 'My, m y,' s aid S idney, c lapping his hands together s ilently. 'I'm m os t im pres s ed, Geraldine. T hat was a bravura perform anc e.' 'May I join you?' W e all s wivelled around on our c hairs to find a plum p, c heerful-looking wom an with neatly bobbed s ilver hair. S he was dres s ed in a c oat as red as a pillar-box with blac k P ers ian lam b c ollar and c uffs , and s ported a bright yellow s c arf. Mis s de la Mare was not noted for her dres s s ens e. T he rem ainder of the afternoon was s pent in lively dis c us s ion. T he HMI had obvious ly been in the room to hear Gerry's im pas s ioned defenc e of s pirituality in the c urric ulum and c ons tantly referred to her, bringing her into the dis c us s ions on a num ber of oc c as ions . 'Dr Mullarkey,' s he s aid, 'has really got to the nub of things . I am s ure you would all agree that educ ation is not about filling em pty ves s els with a few arid fac ts . W hils t it's c ertainly about enc ouraging young people to have lively, enquiring m inds and the ability to ques tion and argue, it is als o about fos tering their s ens itivities and em otions . Could I jus t as k you for a m om ent, c olleagues , to c ons ider the bes t teac her you had and the wors t? W hat was it about thos e two teac hers that was s o different? W hat m ade one s o m uc h better than the other? Mr P ritc hard, what about you? W ho was your wors t teac her?' 'Oh, that would have to be Mr S ewell, head of his tory at the W els h gram m ar s c hool I attended,' replied David. 'He had a s kull-s haped head, big hooked nos e, a m ournful expres s ion and a s m ile like a s hark. Tailor-m ade to be an undertaker. He c ouldn't help the way he looked, of c ours e, but he c ould help the way he treated us boys . T errible m an he was - pom pous , s arc as tic , c ruel as well, dis paraging, hum ourles s .' 'Don't beat about the bus h, David,' s aid S idney, pulling a fac e. 'T ell us what you really think about him .' 'I hated that m an, that's what,' David told us , pluc king his s pec tac les from his nos e. 'He'd m ake fun of our valley ac c ents , ridic ule our efforts and c ritic is e our parents - never direc tly but in a s neaky, unpleas ant s ort of way. V ery nas ty piec e of work was "S m iler".' 'S o did you dis like his tory?' queried the HMI, with a s m ile of gentle benevolenc e. 'Hated it. I rec all him c reeping into the room in his gown like a great blac k beetle and telling us before the his tory exam ination: "W hen it s ays on the paper, 'Us e your own words ', us e m ine! I don't want any boy trying to be c lever! " S urely the whole point of educ ation is to try and get youngs ters to be c lever. He gave us m odel ans wers to learn off pat. I know them to this day: "Feudalis m and the m anorial s ys tem c annot be s aid to be the m ain c aus e of T he P eas ants ' Revolt bec aus e, by the end of the fourteenth c entury, feudalis m was in dec line. T he m anorial s ys tem required people to be s tatic , but dis turbing elem ents s uc h as the Crus ades , the inc es s ant wars , the growth of c om m erc e, did not m ake pos s ible a s tatic c ondition in s oc iety, et c etera, et c etera." I c ould go on, but I won't bore you.' 'T hank goodnes s for s m all m erc ies ,' m um bled S idney. 'You talk about filling em pty ves s els with arid fac ts , Mis s de la Mare,' c ontinued David. 'W ell, that is exac tly what went on in Mr S ewell's room . W e learnt fac ts off by heart like parrots . Of c ours e, I hadn't the firs t idea what I was c om m itting to m em ory. W e learnt the W ars of the Ros es , the S panis h A rm ada, Mary Queen of S c ots , the A c c es s ion of J am es I and the c aus es of the E nglis h Civil W ar. Of c ours e, nothing about W els h his tory. T hen s urpris e! s urpris e! A ll the topic s we had learned c am e up on the paper.' David s m iled wryly. 'Mind you, the fac t that Mr S ewell was a Chief E xam iner m ight have had s om ething to do with it.' 'T hat, I think, is what is c alled the irritating s uc c es s of the wrong m ethod,' I obs erved. 'W hat about your his tory teac her, Mr Clam p?' as ked Mis s de la Mare, inc lining her head s lightly in S idney's direc tion. 'V ery different,' s aid S idney. 'He was an ec c entric little m an with a bald pate and a twitc h. He was c alled B abc oc k, and he was a world away from David's m ons ter. He was jus t an out-and-out enthus ias t. B ags of energy, fired ques tions like a m ac hine gun and had a great s ens e of hum our. He loved his s ubjec t, enjoyed the c om pany of young people and m ade his tory c om e alive. He us ed to tell the m os t fas c inating s tories , anec dotes and fac ts about the c harac ters in his tory. I often talk about T revor B abc oc k on m y c ours es . W e s tudied Mary Queen of S c ots as well, but we looked at c opies of the letters s he s ent, the s ec ret c odes us ed in the various plots , and we trac ed her long journey from S c otland to Fotheringay Cas tle where s he m et her end. A very c om plex wom an. S he was renowned for this wonderful head of hair, you know, but when her head was c hopped off it turned out to be a wig. I always rem em ber that.' 'My bes t teac her was Mis s W ainwright,' I told everyone when Mis s de la Mare turned to m e, 'who taught m e E nglis h. A c tually, I s tudied for m y "A " level E nglis h in a girls ' s c hool.' 'However did you m anage to wangle that?' as ked S idney. 'W ell, our E nglis h teac her at the boys ' gram m ar was off with s om e s ort of long-term illnes s and there was no one els e to teac h the s ubjec t. S o the s even of us boys s tudying E nglis h went down to the girls ' high.' 'Did you have to wear the uniform ?' as ked S idney m is c hievous ly. 'I bet you c ut quite a das h in blac k s toc kings and a pinafore dres s .' 'Of c ours e, but it was the knic ker elas tic whic h was the wors t. Cut right into the tender parts .' S idney and David hooted with laughter, and Mis s de la Mare rais ed an elegant eyebrow. 'W e were taught by a rem arkable wom an, Mis s W ainwright. W hen we great lum bering youths arrived for the firs t les s on, we s tood before her to be ins pec ted. Mis s W ainwright peered up at us . "I've never taught boys ," s he s aid, and then after a long paus e and with a twinkle in her dark eyes added, "but I've heard of them ."' E ven Mis s de la Mare laughed. 'I as s um e s he was able to teac h you lads s om ething or you wouldn't have ended up as an Ins pec tor of E nglis h here?' 'Indeed, s he did. S he was warm , s upportive, good-hum oured, res pec tful and pas s ionate about her s ubjec t. S he lifted S hakes peare off the page. "He is not a novelis t," s he onc e told us . "He is a poet and a dram atis t and the greates t writer that has ever lived."' 'A m en to that,' rem arked Mis s de la Mare. 'W ell, what thes e good teac hers had in c om m on,' s he s aid, 'was an enthus ias m for learning and als o a des ire to help their s tudents apprec iate and explore the s ubjec ts they taught, m ore profoundly. W hat this Minis try initiative is trying to do is to get teac hers to c ons ider the deeper, s piritual s ide of educ ation a little m ore in all s ubjec ts . J us t as Dr Mullarkey s aid earlier, it is im portant to teac h the various s kills but als o to develop the s piritual and the m oral elem ents as well. In the teac hing of reading, for exam ple, the appropriate m aterials are s elec ted. T he teac her follows a s eries of logic al s teps , teac hing the m ec hanic al proc es s of how to dec ode thos e blac k m arks on the paper. Children c an then reas on, infer and apply their knowledge to reading. B ut the teac her's job does not end there. S he develops enjoym ent in reading and introduc es c hildren to s tories and poem s whic h am us e, provoke, entertain, touc h their feelings . In m us ic , c hildren learn the m ec hanic s on the piano but us e this knowledge to play or to s ing to lift our s pirits , m ake us feel happy or s ad. In his tory les s ons they c an perhaps em pathis e with a lonely S c ottis h queen hated by m os t of her s ubjec ts and im pris oned for m os t of her life. T hat is the underlying philos ophy behind this initiative. I hope I have put it in s om e s ort of c ontext for you.' 'W ell,' s aid Harold, s m iling widely and s howing his s et of tom bs tone teeth, 'I think we have explored this in enough depth. A fter a tea break we c an m ove on to the prac tic alities .' 'Y ou've c ertainly c hanged your tune, S idney,' I rem arked over m y c up of tea and one of Connie's Garibaldi bis c uits . S idney, David and I were in the s taff room ; Harold and Gerry were s till in deep c onvers ation with Mis s de la Mare. 'W ell,' replied m y c olleague, s tirring his tea vigorous ly, 'I'm nothing if not open-m inded.' 'Huh,' res ponded David. 'T he danger of being open-m inded, S idney, is that your brains m ight fall out.' 'I am , at heart, a very flexible thinker,' c ontinued S idney, undaunted. 'If an argum ent is put s im ply, effec tively and c onvinc ingly, as I feel it was this afternoon, I will willingly c ons ider it. A nd I do have to c onc ede that there m ay very well be s om ething in this s pirituality thing. It's jus t all the paperwork whic h I do s o abhor.' 'W ell, don't get too keen,' I warned him . 'T here is nothing s o fears om e as a c onvert. T hey bec om e unbearably zealous , tires om e in the extrem e and entirely s ingle-m inded. W e c ertainly don't want you pros elytis ing all over the offic e, S idney.' 'Certainly not,' agreed David. 'I m us t s ay, though,' s aid S idney, paus ing to take a great gulp of tea, 'our pale Iris h beauty c ontinues to be a bit of a dark hors e, does n't s he? S he s its there for ages without a word but when s he gets s tarted there's no s topping her. I've never s een her s o anim ated and voc iferous . To be hones t, I c annot rec all having heard her s peak m ore than a few words in the offic e and then this afternoon s he launc hes into a lec ture whic h would not have dis grac ed a pres entation on the podium of the Royal S oc iety of A rts .' 'S he was very im pres s ive,' I agreed. 'Do you think s he w as trying to im pres s ?' as ked David. 'I jus t wonder whether s he did put in for Harold's job,' s aid S idney. 'Y ou m ay very well be right,' s aid David. 'S he didn't s ound all that c onvinc ing to m e when s he denied that s he had applied.' 'T hen there were her c om m ents about applying for that univers ity pos t,' s aid S idney, 'and as king for tim e to think about it.' 'A nd why is s he with Harold and that HMI now?' as ked David. 'W hy are they c los eted together and what are they talking about?' 'Have you got a thing about c los ets , David?' I as ked. 'T hat's the third oc c as ion you've m entioned them this afternoon.' David ignored m e. 'I think s he m ay very well be our next S enior Ins pec tor. E verything is pointing to it.' 'I'm not s ure,' I s aid. 'I c an't im agine Gerry taking on Harold's job and all it entails . S he has J am ie to look after, for one thing.' 'T here's another m ys tery,' m us ed S idney. 'S he never m entioned that until it was dis c overed. A dark hors e indeed is Dr Mullarkey. S he never talks about the father of her c hild. Do you know any m ore, Gervas e? Does n't Chris tine s om etim es look after the s on?' 'Y es , but s he has n't s aid anything to m e,' I s aid. 'S he s teers well c lear of the s ubjec t.' 'He c ould be s om e politic ian or m edia pers onality,' m us ed S idney. 'Does J am ie res em ble anybody?' 'Oh, for goodnes s s ake, S idney, will you let it drop! ' I exc laim ed. 'If Geraldine wanted people to know who the father is , s he'd tell them . Clearly s he does not, s o that's the end of the m atter.' 'Mys terious , though,' pers is ted S idney. 'A nyway, as I s aid, s he was m os t im pres s ive this afternoon. Y ou m ight be s orry you did not put in for Harold's job, old c hap. I agree with David. I think Geraldine m ight well be our new bos s .' 'S he's welc om e to it,' I s aid. 'Geraldine wouldn't be all that bad,' s aid David. 'No,' agreed S idney, rais ing the m ug to his lips . 'I c ould live with it.' 'My, m y,' I s aid, 'this m us t be a rec ord. Y ou two agreeing for m ore than an hour.' Further dis c us s ion was c urtailed by Connie entering the room . S he was wearing the fam iliar s him m ering-pink overall and holding a c lipboard like a gam e-s how hos t. 'Good afternoon,' s he s aid, c as ting a c ritic al glanc e around the room to m ake s ure everything was as it s hould be. 'Good afternoon, Connie,' we c horus ed. 'I've been doing m y m onthly s toc k c hec k and things have gone m is s ing.' W ithout waiting for a res pons e s he c ons ulted her c lipboard. 'T here's s om eone been s tealing toilet rolls from the gentlem en's lavatory. Can I as k you to keep your eyes peeled when you run your c ours es ?' 'Y es , Connie,' we replied. 'I put four rolls in there las t week and they've all gone,' s he s aid. 'Do you want us to fris k people on their way out?' as ked S idney. 'Make c ertain they don't have a toilet roll c onc ealed about their pers on?' 'Y ou get wors e,' s he told him .

'W hen I was at s c hool, you know, Connie,' rem arked David, 'when we wanted to go to the toilet, we had to as k the teac her for a piec e of toilet paper. He gave us a regulation two s egm ents of that rather s m elly, pale-brown, s hiny variety. It c ertainly m ade s ure there was no extravagant us e.' 'W ell, it's a thought,' s aid Connie, 'but I don't want to go that far.' I c ould s ee from her expres s ion, however, that a s eed of an idea had obvious ly been planted in her head. T he very notion of teac hers having to c ollec t a toilet roll from the c aretaker prior to paying a vis it brought a s m ile to m y lips . 'A nd have any of you s een m y pair of s teps - the s m all wooden ones whic h I keep in the s toreroom ? T hey've gone walkabout again.' 'No, Connie,' we c horus ed. 'W ell, s om ebody's got them . T hey don't jus t dis appear. T hey haven't got legs . I need them next week when they're c om ing from the P arks Departm ent to c ut bac k that ivy what's c reeping all over the plac e. T hey c ut it las t year but the thing's gone bers erk again. If it was up to m e I'd c ut that c reeper, whatever you c all it, down.' 'Clem atis ,' s aid S idney. 'W hat is ?' 'T he ivy that's c reeping all over the plac e. It's c alled c lem atis .' 'Y es , well, I'm not s ure if I believe you,' s aid Connie, waving her c lipboard towards S idney. 'I well rem em ber you telling m e that red flower what grew in the tub was a variegated flam ing alopec ia and then I found out that was a s c alp c ondition.' 'It is a c lem atis , Connie,' I s aid. 'W ell, whatever it's c alled, it wants pruning and I need thos e ladders . A re you s ure you haven't had them , Mr Clam p, for when you do your m ounting?' S idney arc hed an eyebrow. 'I have not, Connie, but if I had borrowed your s teps , I s hould have m ade s ure they were put bac k in the s toreroom .' 'Mm m m m ,' s he hum m ed. 'W hat about you, Mr P ritc hard? Have you been us ing them on your P .E . c ours e for c lim bing ac tivities ?' David rolled his eyes . 'No, Connie, I haven't touc hed them .' 'Mr P hinn?' 'S orry, Connie,' I s aid. 'I haven't s een them .' 'Have you as ked Dr Mullarkey?' as ked S idney. 'S he wouldn't have them ,' s aid Connie. 'S he's the only one of you ins pec tors who puts everything bac k and leaves the room as s he finds it.' 'A nother fan,' m urm ured S idney. 'It's a m ys tery to m e where they've gone,' m oaned Connie. S he s c ribbled on her c lipboard before adding, 'W ell, if they're not bac k next week, s teps will be taken.' 'I thought that they already had been, Connie,' rem arked S idney, keeping a deadpan expres s ion. 'W hat?' s he s napped. 'T aken the s teps , that is .' 'Y ou m ight think it am us ing, Mr Clam p, but I have to ac c ount for all m y equipm ent and it's no laughing m atter. Y ou'll s oon be c om plaining if the top s urfac es are dirty bec aus e I c an't reac h to do m y dus ting bec aus e m y s teps have gone m is s ing.' 'Could it be the vic ar, Connie?' I as ked. 'He us es the Centre, does n't he?' 'I hardly think a m an of the c loth would walk off with m y s tepladder. A nyway, what would the vic ar be doing c lim bing up ladders ?' 'T aking the m oral high ground?' s ugges ted S idney, grinning at his own m irth. 'W hat about the pens ioners who us e the Centre on Fridays ?' as ked David. 'T hey have enough trouble with their zim m ers , never m ind c lam bering up a s et of s teps . S om e of them are very dodgy on their legs . Mos t of them have to us e the ram p to get in the Centre. S teps are too s teep for them . T he Counc il has had to rem ove thos e s tiles on the Dales W alk footpath and replac e them with gates bec aus e the old people jus t c an't get their leg over.' S idney rais ed an eyebrow again. 'Y ou don't s ay?' 'A nyway, I s hall take up the m atter of m y m is s ing s teps with Dr Y eats jus t as s oon as he's finis hed talking to that m ulti-c oloured ins pec tor. Oh, and Mr Clam p, how long are thos e nudes going to be up on the wall?' 'Don't you like them , Connie?' as ked S idney. 'No, I do not! ' s he s napped. 'I've never s een anything s o horrible in all m y life.' 'Y ou will be relieved to know then, Connie,' s aid S idney, 'that I s hall be c hanging the dis play next week. Oh, and s peaking of things going m is s ing, have you any idea where the portrait of Mrs Os baldis ton has gone? S om ebody s eem s to have walked off with her.' Connie gave m e a knowing look. 'No idea,' s he s aid, before departing with the c lipboard tuc ked under her arm .

16 T he s c enery was at its bes t the bright early Dec em ber m orning when I vis ited S haptonhall P rim ary S c hool. A s Harold had as ked, we were to vis it a num ber of s c hools as part of the initiative on s pirituality to s ee how teac hers prom oted c hildren's s piritual developm ent in our partic ular s ubjec t area. Mis s de la Mare had als o enc ouraged us to obs erve s om e s c hool as s em blies whic h s he felt played a s ignific ant part in extending pupils ' m oral and ethic al ins ights , s o I had arranged a s eries of m orning vis its . S haptonhall was top of m y lis t. I was a little early s o I drove at a leis urely rate along twis ting narrow roads , bordered by blac k hawthorn hedges or walls of s quare, deep s tone, m arvelling at the boundles s views whic h s tretc hed around m e: tawny green pas tures c ropped by a few vagrant s heep and only interrupted by little c ops es and s c attered farm s teads , s weeping up to the s welling c ontours of the dis tant winds wept s um m its . In the s c hool as s em bly the headteac her, Mr Greenaway, a s m all m an with large expres s ive hands and a deep res onant voic e, related the parable of the P rodigal S on. 'T here was onc e a farm er who had two s ons ,' he boom ed. 'One day, the younger s on s aid to him : "Father, will you give m e m y s hare of your property?" T he father agreed and divided all he owned and gave half to his s on. T he young m an s old it and left hom e with a bulging purs e and a light heart.' T he headteac her c ontinued with the s tory, telling the c hildren how the younger s on had s quandered all this m oney and then had returned hom e penniles s , as ham ed and repentant, with his head held low. He told them how the father, with great happines s in his heart and with tears of joy in his eyes , had run to m eet his s on and how he had put his fines t robe around his s houlders , s ent his s ervant for his bes t s andals and ordered the fatted c alf to be killed for a s plendid feas t to c elebrate his s on's hom ec om ing. He paus ed m om entarily, then c ontinued, loudly and dram atic ally: 'A nd when the elder s on heard the s ound of the m us ic and laughter and the news that his brother had returned, he was not pleas ed and would not enter the hous e. His father was s addened about this but his elder s on told him angrily, "I have worked like a s lave all thes e years for you, yet you have never even offered m e s o m uc h as a goat for a feas t with m y friends . Now m y good-for-nothing brother, who has s pent all your m oney, turns up and you kill the fatted c alf for him ." T he father had replied, "My s on, you are with m e all the tim e and everything I have is yours . Is it wrong that we s hould c elebrate your brother's hom ec om ing? My s on was dead but now he is alive, he was los t but now he is found." ' Mr Greenaway s pread wide his arm s . 'Now c hildren,' he s aid, 'who do you think was the happies t of all?' T here was a fores t of hands . He pic ked a s m all girl in the front row. 'T he father! ' s he c ried. 'T hat's right, K aty, and who do you think was the s addes t and m os t dis appointed about the s on's return?' B efore he c ould pic k anyone, a large boy at the bac k s houted out, 'W ell, I rec kon t'fatted c alf c an't 'ave been too 'appy.' T he next s c hool on m y itinerary was S t Margaret's Churc h of E ngland P rim ary S c hool, in the pic tures que village of Hut-ton-with-B rans ton. T his dis c rete, grey s tone building with a red tiled roof s tood adjac ent to the old c hurc h and fac ed the village green. T he Chairm an of Governors , the Reverend Feathers tone, whom I had arranged to interview, was a dour-looking individual with a large hawkis h nos e, grey wis py hair and heavy-lidded eyes . 'I'm afraid we live in a s ec ular s oc iety, Mr P hinn,' he told m e, s troking his long nos e, 'a world of fas t food, televis ion and fanc y holidays . T here's prec ious little s pirituality in the world thes e days . My S unday S c hool teac her read the s tory of David and Goliath las t week and as ked the c hildren who beat the P hilis tines . One c hild replied that he didn't know bec aus e he didn't follow the m inor leagues .' T he c leric s hook his head wearily. 'I am s addened that c hildren's biblic al knowledge thes e days leaves a lot to be des ired. I've had c hildren tell m e about Mos es going up Mount Cyanide to rec eive the Ten Com m andm ents , and S olom on with his three hundred wives and s even hundred porc upines . Do you find this lac k of biblic al awarenes s on your travels , Mr P hinn?' 'I'm afraid s o,' I told him . 'S c ripture is n't taught a great deal in s c hools thes e days , unles s of c ours e it's a c hurc h s c hool.' 'W ell, this is a c hurc h s c hool,' he rem inded m e. 'I c annot s ay that the c hildren here are any m ore ac quainted with the B ible than in any other s c hool. My c urate ques tioned a c las s only las t week about the Garden of E den and as ked the nam e of the pers on who s tole the apple from the tree and a c hild prom ptly told him that it was n't him bec aus e he didn't like fruit. It does n't help, of c ours e, when parents thes e days take it into their heads to c all their c hildren all s orts of weird and wonderful nam es . Gone are the fine biblic al nam es like Hannah and S im on. Ins tead, they are nam ed after pop s ingers and film s tars , footballers and -' 'E xotic drinks ,' I added, thinking of T equila B raithwaite. 'I've had reques ts for J ezebel and S alom e and Delilah,' bem oaned the vic ar. 'It's very diffic ult explaining to the parents who thes e wom en were and what their line of work was . One c hild very nearly went through life with the exotic nam e of Onac ardie. I as ked the parents at the c hris tening: "A nd what do you nam e this c hild?" T he m other replied loudly, "Onac ardie." I had jus t begun s prinkling the water over the baby's head and intoning: "I c hris ten this c hild Onac ardie," only to be quic kly interrupted by the irate m other. "No, no, vic ar! " s he his s ed. "On 'er c ardy. T he nam e's written on her c ardigan. W e want her to be c alled S iobhan." ' I was rem inded all too forc efully of the Reverend Feather-s tone and our dis c us s ion about c hildren's lac k of biblic al knowledge when I vis ited High Rus ton-c um -Riddles wade E ndowed Churc h of E ngland County P aroc hial J unior and Infant S c hool later that week. It was there that I m et E lizabeth. S he was a tall girl of about eleven, with pink-fram ed glas s es and a rather earnes t expres s ion.' 'A re you looking forward to Chris tm as ?' I realis e it was a rather inane ques tion whic h I as ked her but s he ans wered pleas antly and with a s m all s m ile. 'Oh yes , it's a lovely tim e of year,' s he s aid. 'I love the s m ells of m inc e pies and fir trees and all the lights twinkling. A nd I like the Chris tm as m orning s ervic e, the c arols and the readings . T he c hurc h is always full and everyone is friendly and happy.' 'W ell, Chris tm as is the m os t im portant tim e in the Chris tian year, is n't it?' I s aid c as ually. 'No,' s he replied. 'I don't think you will find it is .' 'P ardon?' 'I s aid, no, it is n't. Chris tm as is not the m os t im portant tim e in the Chris tian year.' 'Oh.' I was quite taken abac k. 'It's E as ter, Mr P hinn,' s he told m e. 'T hat's when J es us s uffered on the c ros s , died for our s ins and ros e from the dead.' 'Y es , of c ours e,' I s aid hurriedly. 'T he only one to do s o.' 'W hat?' 'Ris e from the dead.' 'No, that's not right either.' Oh dear, I thought. A walking biblic al enc yc lopaedia. 'T here was Mary and Martha's brother.' 'W ho?' 'Lazarus .' 'Oh, yes ,' I s aid. 'I'd forgotten about Lazarus .' 'A nd don't forget J airus 's daughter. J es us told him that s he was n't dead but s leeping and s aid, "Little m aid, aris e."' 'Oh yes , of c ours e. How c ould I have forgotten J airus 's daughter?' 'Mr P hinn,' s aid the girl, s c rutinis ing m e through the pink fram es of her s pec tac les , 'your biblic al knowledge is not all that good, is it?' Later that m orning the headteac her es c orted m e to the door. 'I gather you had an interes ting c onvers ation with E lizabeth?' 'V ery interes ting,' I replied s im ply, not wis hing to elaborate. 'S he's a delightful girl and very bright. E lizabeth is the granddaughter of one of our governors . I believe you've m et Reverend B raybrook, the Rural Dean.' A t Holm dale J unior and Infant S c hool, s ituated deep in a s ec luded dale in the heart of the North Y ork Moors and s urrounded on all s ides by rugged m oorland, the loc al B aptis t m inis ter, an evangelic al young m an wearing a T -s hirt with 'Fight truth dec ay - s tudy the B ible every day' on the front, re-told the parable of T he Los t S heep. I had onc e rec ounted this s tory m ys elf in an as s em bly at W innery Nook Nurs ery and Infants S c hool. In fac t, Chris tine - the s c hool's headteac her - has never let m e forget and burs ts into laughter every tim e it is m entioned. I was therefore interes ted to s ee how the young m an would get on. He s tarted well, im m ediately c apturing the c hildren's interes t. T he great m ajority of his audienc e c am e from farm ing fam ilies s o at the m ention of s heep all ears pric ked up. 'W hen J es us was alive,' he told them , 's heep were very im portant in the lives of people.' 'T hey s till are,' s aid one ros y-c heeked girl, s itting near the front. 'Y es , indeed,' c ontinued the m inis ter. 'A nd in thos e days , s heep provided m eat and m ilk and c hees e. B ut pas ture was poor on the hills -' 'Not too good up here, either,' s aid the girl. 'No,' agreed the m inis ter. 'S o pas ture was poor on the hills and the s hepherd had to m ove his floc k from plac e to plac e to find gras s for his s heep. Unlike today, the s hepherd at the tim e when J es us lived, did not drive his floc k in front of him but led it and he knew eac h of his s heep pers onally and they ans wered to his c all.' T here were s everal s c eptic al looks and furrowed brows at this point. 'How m any would he have in his floc k, then?' as ked a boy of about ten or eleven with a s hoc k of red hair. 'W ell, in the parable I'm going to tell you in a m inute, the s hepherd has a hundred s heep,' replied the m inis ter. 'He's not likely to know an 'undred s heep pers onally,' obs erved the boy. 'Cows , m ebbe, but not s heep.' 'W ell, I... the s hepherd... he probably would have known his s heep very well.' 'B ut not an 'undred! ' 'Let's m ake a s tart on the s tory and then we c an talk about it afterwards , s hall we?' s aid the m inis ter, looking a little uneas y. I c ould s ee from his expres s ion that he was unus ed to m em bers of his c ongregation s houting out and c om m enting at every turn. T his was c learly not his us ual c aptive audienc e. 'Now, if any of thos e s heep s trayed, the s hepherd would s earc h for them until he found them .' 'He wanted a good c ollie-dog,' s aid the red-haired boy. 'S ave a lot o' tim e and trouble.' 'A ye,' nodded a few of his c om panions . T he m inis ter c arried on regardles s and s peeded up his delivery, hoping by doing s o to dis c ourage any further interruptions . 'T he s hepherd protec ted his s heep from wild anim als and thieves by us ing a c atapult and a wooden c lub -' 'S hotgun would 'ave been better,' rem arked a c hild. 'A nd at night,' c ontinued the m inis ter, ignoring the obs ervation, 'the s hepherd kept his floc k in a s tone-walled s heepfold topped with thorns and he would bloc k the entranc e by lying ac ros s it.' 'I c an't s ee m y dad doing that,' s aid the girl at the front, laughing. 'Now this parable is c alled T he Los t S heep and it was told by J es us nearly two thous and years ago.' T he m inis ter took a deep breath, rubbed his hands , s m iled and began. 'T here was onc e a s hepherd and he had a hundred s heep. One day he dis c overed that one of the s heep had s trayed. He c ould have s aid, "A h well, I have ninety-nine s o why s hould I bother s earc hing high and low, hither and thither, for jus t one s heep? If I leave the other s heep they will be at the m erc y of wolves and thieves . A nyway, the los t s heep m ight be dead by now." B ut the s hepherd did not s ay this , for every s ingle one of his s heep was prec ious to him . S o he went in s earc h of the one los t s heep.' 'Hardly worth the effort, pric e of lam b being what it is at t'm om ent,' c om m ented the ros y-fac ed girl. 'T his was quite a long tim e ago,' the m inis ter inform ed her, s till m anaging to retain his s m ile. 'S o, the s hepherd left the ninety-nine and went in s earc h of the one los t s heep.' 'W hat breed o' s heep were they, then?' as ked the girl. 'B reed?' repeated the m inis ter. 'A ye, what breed?' 'W ell, does it m ake a differenc e?' he as ked. 'It m akes an 'ell of a lot o' differenc e. S om e s heep are doc ile, others are reight fris ky. If you're talking 'erdwic ks , they never s hift, they'll s top where they are till t'c ows c om e hom e. W e've got 'erdwic ks . T hey m ay be s m all but they're a tough breed and eat owt that's going - gras s , heather, c ouc h gras s - owt. Now, if t's hepherd left a floc k of 'erdwic ks , he'd s till find 'em theer when he got bac k.' 'I s ee,' s aid the m inis ter lam ely and wrinkling his forehead into a frown. 'W ell, I s houldn't im agine that the s heep were Herdwic ks .' 'B ut if you're talking Leic es ters ,' c ontinued the girl, 'they'll be leaping all ovver t's how. T hey'd be off as s oon as s hepherd's turned 'is bac k.' 'T hat's why tha needs a good c ollie-dog,' ins is ted the boy with the red hair. 'S o what breed were they?' as ked the girl. 'W ell,' s aid the m inis ter, having a s udden flas h of ins piration, 'thes e were P ales tine B lues , a very lively breed.' 'Never 'eard of them ,' c om m ented the girl s ulkily. 'W hat do they look like?' 'Oh, big and woolly and white,' began the m inis ter feebly. He pres s ed on quic kly to prevent any further interruptions and awkward ques tions . 'W hat joy the s hepherd felt when he found his los t s heep. He put it on his s houlders and hurried bac k to tell everyone his good news and invite his friends to s hare his happines s .' 'A nd were his other s heep s till there?' as ked the boy with the red hair. 'Indeed, they were, and the s hepherd was very happy. Now, in the s am e way, there is greater rejoic ing in heaven over one s inner who turns bac k to God than over ninety-nine people who s ee no reas on to repent. Rem em ber, c hildren, none of us is a los t s heep in the eyes of God. Did you enjoy that s tory?' he as ked, fac ing the s ea of little fac es . T here was a long paus e. T hen the little boy with the red hair gave a great heaving s igh. 'It were rubbis h,' he s aid s im ply. 'Nowt 'appened. I like a s tory wi' a bit o' ac tion.' 'Mos t s heep are big and woolly and white,' s tarted the ros y-c heeked girl s itting at the front. 'W hat I want to know, is this . A re thes e P ales tine B lues -' W ithout paus ing, the m inis ter c las ped his hands together and s aid very quic kly, 'Let us pray,' thus putting a s top to any m ore c om m ents from the s heep experts in the hall. 'I think I'll pic k Matthew 10 for the next as s em bly,' rem arked the m inis ter later in the s taff-room . 'Y ou m ight rec all the words of J es us about the s heep am ong the wolves . I was eaten alive in that as s em bly, was n't I?' 'If I m ay offer a little advic e, m inis ter,' I s aid, 'to s om eone new to the c ounty. S tay away from s tories about s heep. W hen I onc e related the s am e parable, at the s c hool where m y wife is the headteac her, I as ked the c hildren the ques tion: "W hy do you think the s hepherd ris ked los ing all his other s heep jus t for the one whic h was los t?" and s om e bright s park replied, "'A ppen it were t'tup." ' T he las t s c hool on m y program m e was S t B artholom ew's S c hool. T he headteac her, S is ter B rendan, was m os t intrigued by the initiative and quizzed m e unm erc ifully about it. 'A nd how does one go about as s es s ing s om ething as intangible as s pirituality?' s he as ked, fixing m e with her s m all, dark eyes . 'S urely, like a love of poetry or an apprec iation of m us ic , it is s om ething whic h is im pos s ible to evaluate.' 'W ell, it is diffic ult, S is ter, but -' I s tarted. 'It's rather like the ques tion on m y niec e's rec ent religious educ ation exam ination: "E xplain the c onc ept of the T rinity." T heologians have argued about that for c enturies . I s hould im agine that the P ope him s elf has s om e problem s explaining that one. I'm s o s orry, Mr P hinn, do go on. You were about to eluc idate jus t how you are to ins pec t s pirituality.' I endeavoured to explain but felt on very s haky ground. E ventually, I extric ated m ys elf from her room , having prevailed upon her to let m e s it in on the rehears al for the s c hool play on the life of S t J ohn the B aptis t. S is ter B rendan's as s is tant teac her, Mrs W ebb, was in full flow when I entered the hall. On s tage a large, s haven-headed boy holding a paper c rown and a large plas tic s word was s taring im pas s ively at the teac her. 'Now, Herod,' s aid the teac her, 'when S alom e brings on J ohn the B aptis t's head, you look very s ad. You really didn't want to have him killed but had to keep your prom is e to S alom e that s he c ould have anything s he wanted.' T he teac her c aught s ight of a s m all boy at the s ide of the hall, holding a large papierm ac he plate. 'J ohn,' s he s aid irritably, 'where is the head?' 'P ardon, m is s ?' as ked the c hild. 'W here is J ohn the B aptis t's head? It s hould be on the platter.' 'I haven't got it, m is s ,' replied the c hild. 'No one has given it to m e.' 'P eter,' the teac her ins truc ted another c hild, 'go to the s taff room and fetc h the bleeding head.' T he boy returned m om ents later with S is ter B rendan. 'Did you wis h to s ee m e, Mrs W ebb?' as ked the nun. Dr S adler exam ined the knee. 'Quite a nas ty knoc k,' he s aid. 'W hatever were you doing?' I explained. 'Have you banged this knee before?' he as ked. 'Y es ,' I replied, 'but that was s om e years ago when I us ed to play rugby.' 'A nd it's been fine s inc e?' 'W ell,' I told him , 'I have had a few twinges and it ac hes a bit when I've been on m y feet for a long tim e.' My heart s ank when he s aid, 'W ell, I think I need to refer you to a s pec ialis t. T he s welling s hould have gone down by this tim e. I'll give you a pres c ription for an elas tic s toc king. In the m eantim e, try and take the weight off it as m uc h as you c an and don't s tand for long periods .' Chanc e would be a fine thing. T hat very evening I was to s peak at the Farm ers ' Dinner. A ll s pruc ed up, I was lim ping for the c ar when I c aught s ight of Harry Cotton taking his terrier for her c ons titutional. T here was an ic y wind blowing in m y fac e but I jus t c ould not wait to tell him about the c hapel. 'Good evening, Harry,' I c alled out. 'E venin',' he replied. He gazed up at the s ky. 'Gerrin a bit nippy, in't it? W hen t'badgers get theer beddin' out, t'weather'll be m ild. T hat's what m y owld dad us ed to s ay. W ell, they haven't got it out s o I rec kons we're in for a s pot of c owld.' 'Y ou know the Methodis t c hapel you were telling m e about -' I s tarted. 'S ee that holly tree,' he s aid, pointing at a little tree in the nearby hedge. 'No berries . If there were berries on t'holly tree, we'd be bound for a s oft winter 'c os t'birds only feed off t'berries if there's c owld weather a'c om in'. I'll tell thee what -' 'Harry,' I s aid, 'the building at the bac k of the c ottage was n't a Methodis t c hapel, after all.' I rather expec ted him to dis pute this and then I would have the pleas ure of putting him right and relating m y c onvers ation with J as per P erkins . 'A ye, I know,' he s aid to m y s urpris e. 'Y ou know?' 'A ye, I know. I was goin' to pop up and tell thee. I got it wrong. I was talkin' to A lbert T atters all las t week in t'Golden B all and 'e put m e right.' 'W ell, we all m ake m is takes ,' I s aid. I felt pretty s m ug. 'No, it weren't a Methodis t c hapel at all. It were Quaker. I knew it were s um m at of t's ooart. B uilt in s eventeen 'undred and s um m at, m ebbe earlier ac c ording to Harry. T hem A m eric ans I was telling you about, dropping in to t'village to 'ave a look at it, they was Quakers not Methodis ts . V ery pac ific people are your Quakers , c an't be doin' wi' violenc e and the like. I rem em ber in t'war they were c ons c ientious objec tors . S om e of 'em were loc ked up in Ric hm ond Cas tle, tha knaas . I allus res pec ted 'em . Nic e people they were. S o, it's jus t as well for you that they're a peac eful lot bec aus e they'll not be dead c huffed to s ee what thy's gone and done to their m eeting 'ous e. A nyroad, it were not W es ley what preac hed 'ere, it was a m an c alled Fox and on t'annivers ary of 'is death, this m inis ter from York and not Reverend J es s op, 'eld a s ervic e up 'ere. T hat there building you dem olis hed were a Quaker m eeting 'ous e, even rarer than a Methodis t c hapel, s o A lbert T atters all were telling m e.' I was los t for words . 'I 'eard from yer m is s is that you 'ad a bit of an ac c ident when you were dem olis hin' it.' 'Y es ,' I s ighed, 'I did.' 'S till lim pin', I s ee.' 'Y es , s till lim ping.'

'Could be divine providenc e that,' s aid Harry, am bling off. ''A ve a nic e evenin'.' I was really not in the m ood to give an am us ing after-dinner talk that evening but c heered up when I s aw J ac ob B annis ter waiting to greet m e outs ide T he Marric k A rm s , a great beam ing s m ile on his fac e. He was a s m all, wrinkled individual with wis ps of white wiry hair c om bed ac ros s his otherwis e bald pate. 'E e, it's grand to s ee thee,' he s houted at m e as if I was a good dis tanc e away. 'Find us all reight, then?' 'No problem ,' I s aid. 'Com e on in an' I'll s ooart thee out wi' a drink.' I followed him through a nois y throng of largely s tout, red-c heeked, healthy-looking m en until we arrived at the bar where I was introduc ed to J ac ob's c ous in, 'our B arry'. 'T his is t's peaker, B arry! ' roared J ac ob, looking up at the round red fac e. 'Oh aye,' replied his c ous in. I had never s een any other hum an being as large as 'our B arry'. He was m ountainous : s ix foot s ix at leas t, broad as a barn door, arm s like tree trunks and a huge round pudding fac e. T he pint glas s looked like a thim ble in his m as s ive hand. 'W hat are you 'avin', Mes ter P hinn?' s houted J ac ob. 'J us t a half of bitter, pleas e,' I replied. J ac ob roared down the bar m aking the glas s es rattle. "A rf o' bitter 'ere, J ac k, for t's peaker an' another pint for our B arry and one for m e! ' He then turned round, nudged m e with his elbow and looked up at his c ous in.' 'E 's a big bloke, in't 'e, our B arry?' he as ked. 'He is ,' I agreed. "Is m other, m i A untie B etty, were a big wom an, wunt s he, our B arry?' 'A ye,' replied the huge m an. 'W onderful wom an, s he were. 'E art o' gowld, do owt for anybody, wunt s he, our B arry?' 'A ye,' nodded B arry, before polis hing off half the pint in one great gulp. 'S he nivver m is s ed a s ervic e at t'c hurc h. Com e rain or s hine s he'd walk all t'way from Durdeyfield Farm up to t'village. One winter, it were thic k wi' s now, drifts up to ten foot deep, rooads like ic ing rinks , wind that 'ud c ut thee like a s harpened s c ythe but s he m ade it up t'c hurc h. Cooars e, vic ar were not expec tin' anybody and then m i A untie B etty turns up. Only one theer, s he were, s itting in t'front pew as large as life. A nyroad, vic ar as ks 'er if 'e s hould c arry on wi' s ervic e like, s eeing as s he were t'only one in t'c hurc h. "Look 'ere, vic ar," s he tells 'im , "I c an't tell thee what tha s hould do, but if I went out of a m orning to feed t'c ows and only one on 'em 'ad tekken trouble to turn up, I'd feed it." He were nonplus s ed at this , was t'vic ar. "Do you know," he s ays , "yer right." A nd he went ahead with t's ervic e and give one of thes e long s erm ons jus t for m i A untie B etty's benefit. He were pretty pleas ed wi' his s en afterwards . "I hope you felt it were worth the walk through all that s now, Mis s is B annis ter," he tells 'er. "Look 'ere, vic ar," s he replies , "I don't rec kon I know all that m uc h about s erm ons and the like, but if I went out of a m ornin' to feed t'c ows and only one 'ad tekken trouble to s how up, I'd not be likely to give it t'whole lot of feed." ' 'It's a nic e s tory, that -' I began. 'S he pas s ed on a c ouple of years bac k did A untie B etty, di'n't s he, our B arry?' 'A ye, s he did.' T he beer arrived, was paid for and J ac ob c ontinued. 'W hen s he died, they 'ad to 'ave a s pec ial c offin m ade for 'er, s he were that big, and t'grave diggers were paid extra 'c os o' s ize of t'hole. A nd it were a reight c arry on at t'funeral. T hey'd jus t lowered 'er deep into t'ground and t'vic ar were s tartin' up wi' 'is as hes to as hes bit, when one of t'undertakers pipes up. "It'll 'ave to c om e up, vic ar." "It's jus t gone down," s ays t'vic ar. "I know," s ays t'undertaker, "but it'll 'ave to c om e up. I've dropped m i glas s es down t'ole and they're on top o' t'c offin." It were a job and an 'alf gerrin 'er up. Coffin were up and down like a bloody yo-yo, weren't it, our B arry?' 'A ye, it were.' 'A nyroad, later on t'vic ar s ays to m i Unc le S tan, that's our B arry's dad, he s ays , "You'll m is s your wife and no m is take, won't you, Mes ter B annis ter?" "I will that," he s ays . "Fifty-two year o' m arriage and not a c us s word. I s hall m is s 'er m os t in bed at neets tha knaas ," he goes on. "Hold on," s ays t'vic ar, "this is not t'tim e nor t'plac e to hear about that s ort of thing." "Nay, vic ar," s ays m i Unc le S tan, "I don't m ean what you're a-thinkin'. On a c owld winter's neet, when wind's whis tling through c rac ks in t'winder and there's a reight draught under t'door, s he were like a bield wall, m y m is s us , like a bield wall." Does tha follow m i drift theer, Mis ter P hinn? Does tha knaw what a bield wall's fer?' 'I do,' I replied, laughing. I had been told exac tly what a bield wall was the previous year by a s m all boy. It is a s hort s tretc h of wall, s tarting nowhere, ending nowhere, for the s heep to s helter behind in wet and windy weather - a s ort of windbreak. 'Now, m i Unc le S tan were a c harac ter and no m is take, wa'n't 'e, our B arry?' c ontinued J ac ob B annis ter. 'A ye, 'e were,' replied his c ous in, finis hing the s ec ond pint of beer in a great gulp. 'I was jus t wondering -' I began. 'Onc e m i Unc le S tan goes and buys this tup - that's a ram , tha knaas - from B entham m arket.' T here was no way I was going to get a word in. 'Lovely looking c reature it were. Texel. S quare as a box, four s olid legs , beautiful fleec e. A nyroad, he puts it in t'field wi' yows - them are t'ewes - and s its bac k to watc h 'im do what nature intended 'im to do, if you follow m i drift. W ell nowt 'appens . T up jus t s tands theer, then does a bit o' walking, a bit o' grazin', but he's not interes ted in any o' yows . T hey s tand theer waiting for 'im to m ek a m ove but 'e's jus t not interes ted. W ell, m i unc le s c ratc hes 'is 'ead and dunt know what's up. 'E 's nivver s een the like afoor. S o, he s ends for t'vet. T 'vet's puzzled an' all. "I s hall tell thee what I'll do, Mes ter B annis ter," he s ays , "I've got this 'ere Dutc h m edic ine whic h m ight jus t do the tric k. J us t c om e on t'm arket." A nd he tells m i Unc le S tan to give t'tup one o' thes e pills in t'm ornin'. V et gus bac k on t'T hurs day and 'e as ks 'ow things are goin'. "Cham pion," s ays m i Unc le S tan. "I've nivver s een the like. T hem theer pills c ertainly did t'tric k. T up's gone m ad. Chas ing anything that m oves . S ex m ad 'e is . Nothing's s afe in t'field wi' 'im ." W e were talking about it in t'pub later that day and I s ays to m i Unc le S tan, I s ays , "I wonder what was in them theer pills what t'vet give t'tup." "I don't know," s ays 'e, "but they tas te of pepperm int."' T he s peaker threw his head bac k and roared with laughter and a s m ile even c am e to the lips of his c ous in. 'It's a good un, that one, in't it, our B arry?' 'A ye, it is ,' s aid his c ous in. J ac ob put his hand on m y s houlder. 'W ell, it's about tim e to get 'em in for t'dinner. P rim e beef toneet, Mes ter P hinn, wi' Yorks hire puddin' an' onion gravy.' A s I finis hed the half pint, he s aid, 'I s ay, I 'opes tha's goin' to be a bit m ore talkative like, wi' yer after-dinner s peec h. You've s aid nobbut a few words in t'las t 'alf hour.' B arry looked down at m e, gave m e a knowing look and winked.

17 My favourite tim e in the s c hool year is Chris tm as . It is then that teac hers m ake a m as s ive effort to c reate the m agic al atm os phere of this very s pec ial s eas on. S c hools at Chris tm as -tim e are ablaze with c olour. Fat Father Chris tm as es , their s ilver s leighs pulled by team s of pranc ing brown reindeer, gallop ac ros s the walls . Fir trees twinkle in entranc e halls , and c orridors are fes tooned with bright dec orations . E ac h c las s room has a c rib c ram m ed with little wooden figures c rowding around the m anger. Chris tm as is a tim e for c hildren. Of all the ac tivities whic h take plac e at Chris tm as it is the infant Nativity play to whic h I m os t look forward. Innoc ent c hildren re-enac ting one of the greates t s tories of all tim e c apture the es s enc e of Chris tm as . To s ee Mary, aged s ix, draped in pale blue and tightly c lutc hing B aby J es us (us ually a large plas tic doll) to her c hes t, never fails to bring a tear to the eye. To s ee J os eph, a thic k m ultic oloured towel draped over his head (us ually held in plac e by an elas tic belt with a s nake c las p) and attired in a dres s ing gown and red s oc ks , never fails to bring a s ym pathetic s m ile to the lips . A nd then there are the s hepherds (us ually a m otley group of little boys who s c ratc h, fidget and pic k their nos es throughout the perform anc e), the T hree W is e Men (who invariably forget their lines or drop the gifts ), the adoring angels c lad in white s heets with bits of tins el s tapled to the bottom and unc om fortable-looking c ardboard wings s trapped to their bac ks and, of c ours e, there's the grum py Innkeeper, who very often s teals the s how. T here is s om ething very s pec ial and heart-warm ing about the infant Nativity. T he firs t Nativity play this year took plac e at W illingforth P rim ary S c hool. W illingforth was s om ething of a s howpiec e s c hool and the headteac her, the form idable Mis s P ilkington, was one of the m os t highly regarded educ ationalis ts in the c ounty. S o I antic ipated that the perform anc e would be rather s pec ial, and indeed it was . From the outs ide, the elegant grey s tone building, with high leaded windows and im pos ing oak door, res em bled a s ubs tantial, im m ac ulately m aintained private res idenc e. Ins ide, there was jus t the one large airy c las s room . It was an im pres s ively dec orated room , blue being the dom inant c olour - pale blue walls , navy blue and c ream c eiling beam s and s upports , and blue floral c urtains . T he Reading Corner was attrac tively inviting with blue c arpet and c us hions . I rec alled thinking on m y firs t vis it that it was the firs t c olour-c o-ordinated c las s room I had s een. T he s c hool looked partic ularly warm and c heerful that c old Dec em ber afternoon. Greens and reds , gold and s ilver m ade the room look very bright and fes tive. Us ing tis s ue paper of varying c olours , the c hildren had trans form ed the windows into the m os t wonderful s tained glas s , depic ting s c enes in the early life of the Holy Fam ily. On a table in one c orner there was a s m all c rib with delic ate porc elain figures . In the Reading Corner s tood a m odes t Chris tm as tree. For the Nativity play, the des ks had been rem oved and replac ed with rows of c hairs . B y the tim e I arrived the plac e was pac ked with m um s and dads , grandparents and governors all fac ing a m akes hift s tage. A s I m ade m y way to m y res erved s eat in the front row, a figure a few rows bac k s tood up and waved at m e. It was Connie, alm os t unrec ognis able without her bright pink nylon overall. S he had told m e the week before that, s inc e there were no c ours es on at the Centre that day, s he was taking the afternoon off. S he was determ ined that this year s he was not going to m is s the Nativity play in whic h one of her grandc hildren, little Luc y, had a s tarring role. Mis s P ilkington, a tall, elegant wom an, opened proc eedings by welc om ing everyone. T hen the Chairm an of Governors , Canon S hepherd, a jolly little m an with ruffled hair and flabby c heeks , read in a deep s onorous voic e a pas s age from Luke: 'T he A ngel S alutes the V irgin Mary'. A s the c hildren s ang 'A way in a Manger', a pretty little girl playing Mary entered, ac c om panied by a s m all boy in the regulation brown dres s ing gown. Des pite the m ultic oloured towel draped over his head, I rec ognis ed Terry the Terror, the boy who had alm os t c aus ed a riot at the s c hool the previous year. Forget about the m irac le of Chris tm as ! A m odern m irac le had been perform ed at the s c hool and I was undoubtedly now looking at Terry the Tam ed. Mary and J os eph knoc ked on the inn door, found there was no room and were s hown to the s table. T hings went like c loc kwork until the T hree K ings arrived on the s c ene. T he firs t little boy, c arrying a golden box and dres s ed in a red velvet c loak m ade from c urtains and s porting a c ardboard c rown whic h c overed half his fac e, announc ed loudly: I am Melc hior and gold I bring, In hom age of our new born king. I have travelled from afar, Following yon twinkling s tar. T he s ec ond W is e Man s trode onto the s tage c arrying a blue box. He too boom ed out his words : I am Gas par. Frankinc ens e I bring, In hom age of our new born king. I have travelled through the night, Following yon s tar whic h s hines s o bright. T he third W is e Man entered c arrying a green box. He s huffled nervous ly to the c entre of the s tage and s tared around him wide-eyed and frightened as if los t in a bus y s hopping s treet. T here was a pregnant s ilenc e. T he c hild s niffed, then his s m all s houlders heaved and great tears rolled down his s m all red c heeks . S uddenly he let out a m os t des perate and plaintive c ry: 'I don't know who I am . W ill s om eone tell m e who I am ?' 'Y ou're B althazar, Gavin,' Mis s P ilkington s aid in a loud s tage whis per, from the s ide of the room , 'and you've brought B aby J es us a s pec ial pres ent of m yrrh.' 'I don't know who I am ,' the c hild whim pered again. 'W ill s om eone tell m e who I am ?' 'B althazar! ' the audienc e c horus ed. 'I don't want to do it! ' he wailed. 'I don't want to do it.' T he headteac her m oved forward, helped the little boy plac e the box before Mary and J os eph, gave him a c uddle and, taking his hand, led him off the s tage. W e all applauded loudly. It was wonderful dram a. I had watc hed a very s im ilar s c ene when I had ac c om panied the teac hers and s tudents of T he Lady Cavendis h High S c hool on that fateful s c hool trip. During the produc tion of K ing Lear, the ac tor playing the lead had entered jus t as the s m all c hild had done that afternoon, looking los t and alone and frightened. P oor, deranged Lear, he had pluc ked at his hair, thrown out his arm s and appealed to the heavens : 'W ho is it that c an tell m e who I am ?' It is one of the s addes t lines of S hakes peare. On that oc c as ion there had been no Mis s P ilkington to help out. E very infant headteac her has a s tory to tell about the Chris tm as Nativity play. T here was the tim e the Innkeeper, when as ked if there was any room in the inn ans wered, 'P lenty,' and us hered the s tartled Holy Fam ily ins ide; the oc c as ion when Mary had dropped B aby J es us , im m ediately burs ting into floods of tears as the pink doll rolled off the s tage; the tim e that the A rc hangel Gabriel had inform ed Mary that he 'had tidings of great joy to bring' but had c om pletely forgotten what they were; the oc c as ion when a frightened little girl dec ided to announc e, 'W elc om e to our Harves t Fes tival' bec aus e s he was fed up with being teas ed bec aus e s he c ouldn't s ay the word 'Nativity'; the m em orable tim e when the large c ardboard and wooden s tar whic h had been s us pended on a wire above the s tage, had fallen onto J os eph who, very m uc h out of c harac ter, had rubbed his head and exc laim ed, 'B loody 'ell! ' In one s c hool I had eaves dropped on a c onvers ation between a parent and the teac her c onc erning the Nativity play. 'S o what's this play about, then?' as ked the m other in all s erious nes s . In another s c hool I had heard a father c om plain that, 'You allus do t's am e play every Chris tm as . T ha wants to do s um m at different.' Infant Nativities are rarely without inc ident and the one at T upton Road P rim ary S c hool the following week was no exc eption. W hen I rec eived an invitation from the headteac her to join the gues ts , I readily ac c epted. T he headteac her, Mrs W ils on, wended her way through the throng of parents and governors to greet m e at the entranc e. 'Rather a different rec eption this tim e, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid, extending a long white hand and s m iling broadly. 'Yes , indeed,' I replied rather s heepis hly and wis hing s he hadn't rem inded m e of a rather em barras s ing inc ident the previous year when I had been apprehended by the loc al polic em an who had been tipped off by a loc al res ident that I was a s us pic ious c harac ter loitering outs ide the s c hool. A ll I had been doing was writing up s om e notes prior to m y vis it, for whic h I had arrived early. Mrs W ils on was a tall, pas ty-fac ed wom an with s hort, dyed blac k hair and heavy m ake-up. It had oc c urred to m e on m y previous vis it, and I was rem inded of it now, how very like a rac oon s he looked with her pale fac e and large dark eyes nes tling in heavy blac k eye-s hadow. Fus s y Mrs T hic kett, a m ous y-haired, s harp-fac ed wom an, was at her s ide nodding nervous ly. T he play opened in the traditional fas hion with Mary and J os eph s etting off for B ethlehem . J os eph, a c onfident little boy in large glas s es , s poke his lines c learly and loudly. Holding Mary's hand he gently led her ac ros s the s m all m akes hift s tage. T hings didn't go s o well when the Innkeeper appeared. He was a s turdily built c hild with s piky ginger hair and his two front teeth m is s ing. It was c lear he had a num ber of fam ily m em bers pres ent that afternoon for there were adoring 'Oohs ' and 'A ahs ' whenever he opened his m outh. B efore J os eph c ould even enquire whether there m ight be room at the inn, the little bruis er, arm s folded tightly over his c hes t and c hin jutting out like a m iniature Mus s olini, announc ed: 'T here's no room ! ' 'B ut we have travelled far and -' began J os eph. 'T here's no room ,' repeated the innkeeper even louder. 'B ut -' s tarted J os eph. 'Did you not hear m e?' T he innkeeper bellowed. 'I s aid there was no room . Y ou c an go round the bac k in the barn.' 'A barn?' repeated Mary. 'W e c an't go in a barn.' 'T here's nowhere els e,' s aid the innkeeper. 'T ake it or leave it.' A t this point the little boy c aught s ight of an elderly wom an in the m iddle of the front row. It was obvious ly his granny. He grinned m aniac ally and tinkled the air with his fingers . T he old lady, rather unhelpfully, s m iled and waved bac k. T his c ontinued for what appeared an age. 'S hane! ' c am e the teac her's dis em bodied voic e from offs tage. 'S hane! Com e off! ' T he Innkeeper c ontinued to s m ile and wave. T he voic e from the wings was now m ore ins is tent. 'S hane Merryweather, get off that s tage right now! ' T he c hild was finally prevailed upon to exit s tage left but did s o in a flouris h, s m iling and waving, like a fam ous ac tor rec eiving the plaudits of a s m itten audienc e. T hings then went s m oothly until the arrival of the T hree W is e Men. 'I bring you gold,' s aid the firs t c hild, laying a s m all golden box at Mary's feet and bowing low. 'I bring you m yrrh,' s aid the s ec ond, laying a c oloured jar at Mary's feet and bowing low. 'A nd I bring you frankinc ens e,' s aid the third king, laying down his gift. 'B ow! ' c am e the dis em bodied voic e from the wings . 'B ow! ' T he third king looked perplexed. He s tared around him like a rabbit c aught in the headlight's glare. 'J as on! ' c am e the voic e again. 'B ow! B ow! ' T he little boy looked firs t at the audienc e and then at Mary. 'W oof! ' he s aid. 'W oof! W oof! ' I was s till c huc kling to m ys elf when I arrived for m y next appointm ent at S t B artholom ew's S c hool. S is ter B rendan greeted m e in the entranc e hall and us hered m e into her room . W ith her blac k habit, dark, darting eyes and a s harp little beak of a nos e, s he always rem inded m e of a hungry blac kbird. 'I do s o love Chris tm as ,' s he trilled. 'It's s uc h a joyous tim e. S uc h a great fes tival in the Chris tian c alendar - the birth of Our Lord.' 'B ut not as great as E as ter, S is ter?' I s aid m is c hievous ly, rec alling m y c onvers ation with E lizabeth. 'Is n't that the greates t fes tival in the Chris tian c alendar, when J es us s uffered on the c ros s , died for our s ins and ros e from the dead?' 'W hy, Mr P hinn,' c ried the nun, her s m all eyes widening in am azem ent, 'I never knew you were a bible s c holar.' T his would be the las t vis it to thos e s c hools involved in the 'S pirituality in the Curric ulum ' initiative. During the Chris tm as holidays I would have a lengthy report to c om pos e but I had s een a large num ber of les s ons , obs erved c ountles s as s em blies and had had a range of lively dis c us s ions with headteac hers and teac hers s o I had a c lear idea of what I was going to write. 'Mrs W ebb is all ready for you,' explained S is ter B rendan, a s m all s m ile appearing on her lips . 'A little nervous , I have to s ay, after the las t rather em barras s ing oc c as ion. T his afternoon you'll be joining her for s tory-tim e, whic h, hopefully, will be without inc ident.' E ven nuns , as I s oon dis c overed, c an s om etim es be wrong. T he s tory Mrs W ebb began reading that afternoon was the deeply m oving ac c ount about the woodc arver. He had been a happy, good-natured m an until his wife and c hild had died, then he c eas ed to s m ile and bec am e bitter and unpleas ant to anyone who c am e near him . One c old winter's day a widow and her s m all s on c alled on him and as ked him to c arve a s et of Nativity figures and that's when a Chris tm as m irac le happened. Mrs W ebb had arrived at the m os t poignant part of the s tory, when the woodc arver, having tried again and again to c arve the fac es of Mary and her baby but without s uc c es s , finally reac hes into a drawer and takes out the c harc oal s ketc h of a young wom an s itting in a roc king c hair c radling a tiny baby. It was of his wife and c hild. W ith tears s treaking down his fac e, he c arves Mary in her rough woollen s hawl looking down lovingly at her prec ious baby. A t this point Mrs W ebb s topped reading and a tangible s ilenc e fell. S he put her hand to her fac e and began to c ry. I was at a los s what to do. Never, in all the years I had been obs erving teac hers , had I ever s een a teac her break down like this in front of her c las s . S he took a handkerc hief from her handbag, dabbed her eyes and c ontinued to weep. 'I'm s orry,' s he s obbed. 'I'm s orry, I jus t c an't read any m ore.' I felt a lum p c om e into m y throat and m y eyes began to fill up too. T hen P eter, the s m all boy who had been ins truc ted to go to the s taff room and get 'the bleeding head', s tood up and s trode to the front of the c las s . He took the book from the teac her's hand, gently patted her on the arm and s aid gently, 'You s it down, Mis s , I'll finis h the s tory.' Mrs W ebb was not alone in c rying that afternoon. I had witnes s ed exac tly what the 'S pirituality in the Curric ulum ' initiative was all about. I had s een awe and wonder in Mrs W ebb's c las s room that c old Dec em ber day. A t break-tim e I s ought out the boy. He was in the playground s liding with his friends on the ic y s urfac e. 'W hat you did today,' I told him , 'was a noble deed.' He looked up at m e s erious ly. 'P ardon, s ir?' 'It was a very kind and thoughtful thing to do, helping Mrs W ebb out like that.' His s m ile s tretc hed from one ear to the other. 'Oh, that,' he told m e c heerfully, 'I often have to do it.' I c alled in at Crom pton P rim ary S c hool a few days later, jus t prior to the s c hool breaking up for the Chris tm as holidays . Mrs Gardiner's room was s o c ram m ed full of brightly-wrapped Chris tm as pac kages that there was hardly any room for m e to get in. 'S orry about this , Mr P hinn,' apologis ed the headteac her, c lam bering around the piles of parc els . 'W e don't want the c hildren to s ee them and m y room is the s afes t plac e.' 'A re thes e all for the c hildren?' I as ked, am azed by the s pec tac le before m e. 'Indeed, they are,' the headteac her replied. 'W e like to give eac h c hild a s m all gift at Chris tm as . A lways a book. Nurs ery rhym es or fairy tales for the infants , a poetry anthology or c hildren's novel for the older ones .' 'W hat a lovely idea,' I s aid. 'B ut however c an you afford it?' 'W ell, the Rotary Club and the Lions help out,' explained Mrs Gardiner, 'and we have raffles during the year, bingo s es s ions and other fund-rais ing ac tivities . It rais es jus t about enough. Y ou s ee, s om e of our c hildren m ight have wonderful televis ions at hom e but no books at all, not a one. T hey get lots of toys and s weets and bic yc les on Chris tm as m orning but s eldom a book. T hey never vis it the library and are rarely s een in a books hop. S o I think it's im portant for them to have a reading book. T hen there are other c hildren in the s c hool who will get prec ious little at all for Chris tm as . Our book m ight be one of the few things they get. Little Matty, for exam ple. Y ou rem em ber Matty, the boy who s tole the pound c oin? W ell, his m other told him las t year that Father Chris tm as had run out of pres ents when he got to him . S ad, is n't it?' 'It is ,' I agreed. 'Y ou're pas s ionate about reading, aren't you, Mrs Gardiner?' 'Y es , I s uppos e I am ,' s he replied. 'I always have been. I get it from m y parents . My father us ed to s ay that books are the arc hitec ture of a c ivilis ed s oc iety and reading the m os t im portant tool of learning.' 'He was a wis e m an,' I s aid. 'Taught for forty years , did m y father,' s aid Mrs Gardiner proudly. 'My m other read to m e every night until I was well into m y teens , and s he bought m e a book every birthday and every Chris tm as and always ins c ribed it with a little m es s age. T hos e books are m y treas ured pos s es s ions . I rem em ber when I firs t bec am e headteac her here at Crom pton and as ked a c hild what books he had at hom e. I have to adm it I was s hoc ked by the ans wer. A fter thinking a bit, he replied that they did have one - a big, thic k, yellow book whic h they kept underneath the telephone. I feel that c hildren s hould own books and build up a little pers onal library, s o we buy them one eac h Chris tm as and put a bookplate in the front with their nam e and the date. Reading is s o im portant. If parents would jus t s pend fifteen m inutes eac h evening with their c hildren, talking about the words and the pic tures and m aking reading enjoyable, what a differenc e it would m ake to their learning.' 'I c ouldn't agree m ore,' I told her. 'A nd do you know, s om e of the c hildren c om ing into this s c hool at five have never had a s tory read to them at bedtim e or heard a nurs ery rhym e. S om e parents jus t don't s eem to bother thes e days . T he c hildren know all the pop s ong lyric s , of c ours e, but few of the traditional rhym es . W e have to teac h them about J ac k and J ill and Hum pty Dum pty and Little J ac k Horner.' 'W ell, I think it's a s plendid idea to buy the c hildren books , I really do.' 'T here's only one problem ,' s aid the headteac her. 'Oh?' 'Father Chris tm as .' 'W hy?' I as ked. 'W hat has Father Chris tm as done?' 'He has n't done anything,' s aid Mrs Gardiner. 'It's jus t that we haven't got one. T he c ros s ing patrol warden took on the part las t year but ended up nearly having a nervous breakdown. He s aid he'd rather fac e a roadful of c areering traffic than the hall full of exc ited c hildren again. I have to s ay they did give him a bit of a hard tim e. Tequila interrogated him as to why s he hadn't rec eived the pres ents s he had as ked for the previous year, another c hild told him he was n't the real Father Chris tm as and one little girl got c om pletely c arried away, fas tened onto him like a W hitby lim pet and jus t would not let go. S he s c ream ed and yelled and when we finally m anaged to pris e her off s he threw a m os t dis grac eful tantrum . T hen Father Chris tm as 's beard kept s lipping and he forgot the nam es of the reindeers .' T he headteac her paus ed for a m om ent and gave m e a s ly s ort of look. 'Now, I've jus t had a thought. Mr P hinn. Y ou don't fanc y -' I c ut her off, throwing up m y hands as though to fend her off. 'No, no, Mrs Gardiner, I've played Father Chris tm as before and it is not fals e m odes ty when I tell you that I was an unm itigated dis as ter.' 'A h well,' s he s aid, 'I s hall jus t have to twis t m y hus band's arm .' A t that m om ent there was a loud rap on the door. 'E xc us e m e, Mr P hinn,' s aid the headteac her. Outs ide s he was c onfronted by a round, s hapeles s wom an with bright frizzy blonde hair, an im pres s ive s et of double c hins and im m ens e hips . S he had a ruddy c om plexion, heavy s leepy eyes and a m outh whic h turned downwards as if in perpetual hos tility. 'Can I 'ave a word, Mrs Gardiner,' s he s aid angrily. 'I am a little bus y at the m inute, Mrs B raithwaite,' replied the headteac her. 'Y es , well you m ight be, but this is him portant.' 'It always is , Mrs B raithwaite,' s ighed Mrs Gardiner. 'E h?' 'W hat s eem s to be the problem this tim e?' 'Our T equila c am e 'om e yes terday wi'out 'er Chris tm as bobbles . S he had 'em in 'er 'air yes terday m orning when s he c om e to s c hool and s he c om e 'om e wi'out 'em . S om ebody's gone an' nic ked 'em off of 'er.' 'W e c an't be c ertain about that,' replied the headteac her. 'T hey m ight have fallen out when s he was running around in the playground.' 'No, they didn't! ' s napped T equila's m other. 'I tied 'em on right tight. S he c om e 'om e wi'out 'em , rooarin' 'er eyes out. T hey was new, them bobbles . J us t bought 'em from t'm arket.' 'A nd what do thes e Chris tm as bobbles look like?' enquired Mrs Gardiner. 'W ell, they was red Father Chris tm as es wi' winking eyes . I didn't s hell out good m oney to 'ave 'em nic ked.' 'W e will have a good look round for them , Mrs B raithwaite, and now if you will exc us e m e, I am rather bus y.' 'No! ' c ried T equila's m other. 'T hat won't do. It won't do at all. S om ebody's nic ked 'er bobbles and I want 'em findin'. It's 'appened before. My T equila's c om e 'om e without other things whic h 'ave gone m is s ing like her Mic key Mous e knic kers for one thing.' 'Mrs B raithwaite,' s aid the headteac her s harply. 'Leave the m atter with m e and I will m ake inquiries . Now I really m us t as k you -' T he wom an was not to be put off. 'W ell, I wants to know what you are going to do.' 'W ell, let m e s ee,' s aid Mrs Gardiner c alm ly. 'Tom orrow, I s hall get the teac hers , the c las s room as s is tants , the dinner ladies , the m id-day s upervis ors , the c leaners , the lollipop lady, the c aretaker and all the c hildren to s earc h for Tequila's Chris tm as bobbles whic h m us t have c os t you all of two pounds . W e will s top all the les s ons to look high and low and we will leave no s tone unturned until we have found them .'

Mrs B raithwaite paus ed for a m om ent before replying, 'A re you taking the pis s ?' In the infant c las s room the c hildren were bus y c olouring in Chris tm as c ards . 'J us t put your penc ils down for a m om ent pleas e, c hildren,' s aid the teac her, 'and look this way. Now, do any of you rem em ber Mr P hinn? He c am e into our s c hool earlier this year.' A m ids t the s ea of fac es I notic ed Matty obs erving m e from his des k in the c orner of the room , a truc ulent expres s ion on his little fac e. I felt c ertain he rem em bered m e. I c ertainly rem em bered him . 'I know who 'e is ,' s aid a large and very voluble infant with a plum p fac e, frizzy hair in huge bunc hes (m inus the Chris tm as bobbles ) and great wide eyes . I knew it wouldn't be long before T equila m ade her pres enc e felt. 'It were 'im what told us about that c at.' 'T hat's right,' I s aid. 'Lazy T om .' 'W e m ight be gettin' another c at for Chris tm as ,' T equila told m e. 'I thought your granny didn't like c ats ,' I s aid. 'S he dunt, but s he dunt live wi' us any m ore. S he's in an 'om e.' 'W ell, I am very s orry to hear it,' I s aid. 'My dad's not,' s aid the c hild. 'He s aid it were t'bes t plac e for 'er. Mi granny dribbles in 'er knic kers and s he -' 'Y es , you told m e before,' I s aid. 'T hat's enough now, T equila,' s aid the teac her. 'B ut I were tellin' 'im about m i granny.' 'Y es , I know you were,' s aid the teac her s harply, 'and we've heard quite enough. Now, I'm s ure Mr P hinn would like to s ee our c rib.' 'V ery m uc h,' I s aid. T he c rib was a large but extrem ely s orry-looking affair with dull s trips of wood s tuc k together haphazardly, s c raps of faded hay and huge figures whic h had c learly s een better days . T he white paint had flaked off the B aby J es us giving Him an unhealthy grey appearanc e. J os eph had los t an arm and the angels their haloes , the three kings looked like down-and-outs and the ox and the as s were c hipped beyond rec ognition. S om eone had tried to brighten up the V irgin Mary by repainting her with long yellow tres s es , bright red lips , c rim s on c heeks and an elec tric blue c ape. S he had a s trange, rather alluring s m ile on her fac e. Looking at her, the adjec tive 'virgin' was the las t word that c am e to m ind. 'T hey've gorra m uc h nic er one in Fettles ham ,' T equila inform ed m e. 'Ours is really tatty.' 'B ut that's what it probably would have looked like,' I told her. 'B aby J es us was born in a s table, a c attle s hed, and he had a m anger for a bed. It wouldn't have been nic e and c lean and bright like the c rib in Fettles ham . T he s table B aby J es us was born in would have been full of rather s m elly anim als and dirty hay. T here was no room in the inn, you s ee, s o Mary and J os eph had to s tay in the s table and it didn't have lovely furniture and c arpets and c entral heating.' 'W ell, they s hould 'ave booked in advanc e,' pronounc ed T equila. 'It allus gets bus y at Chris tm as .' 'Mary had to have her baby in a c old, dark barn,' I c ontinued. 'He had no nic e new c lothes , no toys , no c ot. He c am e into the world with nothing. He was one of the poor and m ean and lowly.' Matty, who had been watc hing with eyes like s auc ers , s hook his head s lowly and s aid quietly but with feeling, 'P oor little bugger.'

18 One evening, jus t after the s c hools had broken up for Chris tm as , Chris tine and I were s nuggled up on the s ofa in front of a blazing fire. 'I c an't rem em ber when we las t did this ,' s he s aid. 'W ell, we've both been s o bus y,' I replied. 'T his has been s uc h a hec tic term , not one I would c are to repeat.' 'I hope I s hall s ee m ore of you when the baby arrives ,' Chris tine s aid. 'W hen our c hild s tarts to talk, I don't want him or her as king who that s trange m an is who dis appears early in the m orning and arrives hom e late at night with his big blac k bag.' 'Y ou m ake m e s ound like Dr Crippen,' I s aid. 'W ell, we'll want to s ee m ore of you. Y ou'll have fam ily c om m itm ents .' 'Y ou will,' I s aid. 'I'm determ ined to have m ore nights in and try to get hom e earlier. I want to s nuggle up with m y little girl and read to her every night.' 'A nd what about the baby?' as ked Chris tine m is c hievous ly. 'I'll read to her as well.' I was thinking of Mrs Gardiner and her rem arkable father. S he was right, of c ours e: one of the m os t im portant things parents c an do for their c hildren is read with them - not to them or at them , but w ith them , m aking reading a pleas ure. 'Y ou are really c ertain it's going to be a girl, aren't you?' as ked Chris tine. 'Of c ours e, I am ,' I s aid. 'T he eldes t c hild in every P hinn fam ily as far as we c an rem em ber has been a girl and it's been the s am e with the B entleys on your s ide. Little Lizzie will be blonde, blue-eyed and beautiful, jus t like her m other. A nd s he'll be c lever, too. E lizabeth Gas kell, E lizabeth B arrett B rowning, E lizabeth P hinn - it's the nam e of a great writer. A nd if it's a boy he'll be c alled Fred and play c ric ket for Y orks hire.' 'I thought we had dec ided on Matthew,' s aid Chris tine. 'I think Matthew for s on num ber two. A firs t born s on s hould have his father's nam es .' 'Certainly not! ' exc laim ed Chris tine. 'One Gervas e in the fam ily is m ore than enough.' 'If it's a boy, what about nam ing him Ric hard, then, after m y father?' 'Or Les lie, after m ine?' 'Or Ric hard Les lie?' 'Or Les lie Ric hard?' 'T his is all ac adem ic , Chris tine,' I s aid, 'bec aus e it will be a girl - little Lizzie P hinn.' W e s at in s ilenc e for a while, watc hing the flic kering flam es and feeling the warm th of the open fire. 'T his is the life,' I s aid at las t. I was well and truly in the Chris tm as s pirit. T he m ain reas on I was feeling partic ularly pleas ed with life c onc erned Harold's job and m y dec is ion not to apply. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from m y s houlders . Had I been elevated to the S enior Ins pec tor's pos ition, I would have had even les s tim e to s pend with m y fam ily and when I w as at hom e I'd no doubt be as grum py as a bulldog with toothac he. It had c ros s ed m y m ind that Geraldine m ight have put in for the job. W ith the us ual veil of s ec rec y that s he wrapped hers elf in s he had given nothing away, but whoever had been offered the job was taking a very long tim e to m ake up his or her m ind. T he offic e would c los e for Chris tm as the following week and we were s till in the dark as to who Harold's s uc c es s or would be. S ec ret m eetings had taken plac e at County Hall whic h even J ulie and her network of inform ants c ould not penetrate. It all s eem ed very m ys terious . A nother reas on for m y good hum our was the Quaker m eeting hous e. T he nightm are s c enario of m y s tanding at the gate of P eewit Cottage fac ing a c oac hload of A m eric an Quakers who had c om e to s ee the fam ous his toric building had faded like the bad dream that it was . In fac t, Harry had not referred to the s ubjec t on any of his frequent vis its , nor had it been m entioned by anyone in the village. It was a great weight off m y m ind. T here was reas on to feel a little optim is tic c onc erning the propos ed c los ure of Hawks rill S c hool as well. E verything had gone unc harac teris tic ally quiet at County Hall but J ulie's inform ants had told her that, largely due to the fus s the A c tion Group had c aus ed, the plans for c los ure had apparently been delayed. Of c ours e, s he was told, s he m us tn't breathe a word. S o that was s om ething els e to m ake m e feel happy about. T hen there was the gam m y knee. A lthough it s till ac hed after a long day, it was feeling a whole lot better. Chris tine was not enam oured by the fles h-c oloured elas tic s toc king whic h I perm anently wore, but it had c ertainly helped relieve the pain. Dr S adler had arranged, within a week, for m e to s ee a s pec ialis t at Fettles ham Royal Infirm ary. 'I'm very im pres s ed with the s peed with whic h you've been able to s ee m e,' I had told the S enior Regis trar, as he prodded and poked m y kneec ap. 'I thought I'd have to wait weeks to s ee a s pec ialis t.' He had s m iled like a hungry vam pire. 'W e s ee patients pretty prom ptly, Mr P hinn,' he had told m e, 'but you will probably have to wait s om e tim e until we c an operate. Months , rather than weeks , I'm afraid.' 'P ardon?' 'Y ou'll be on the waiting lis t for an operation. Y our knee problem is not life-threatening, you s ee, s o it m ay be quite s om e tim e before we get around to s orting it out.' 'W ell, I gues s I c an live with that,' I had s aid. 'I'm afraid you'll have to,' he had replied, not letting the s m ile s lip. 'W hat are you thinking about?' Chris tine as ked now. 'Oh, jus t how luc ky I am .' W e s at there jus t enjoying the warm th and c los enes s of eac h other. 'Y ou know what this room needs ?' s he s aid s uddenly. 'W hat?' 'T he tic king of a c loc k.' 'A c loc k?' 'Yes , and I don't jus t m ean a c loc k on the m antelpiec e, but a grandfather c loc k. My grandparents had one, and on its fac e was an old-fas hioned s ailing s hip - you know, fully rigged - whic h went up and down on the waves as the c loc k tic k-toc ked. I us ed to watc h it for hours . A grandfather c loc k would look jus t right in the c orner. It would tic k away reas s uringly.' 'A nd s trike in the m iddle of the night and wake up little Lizzie,' I added. 'No, our baby will s leep like a top.' 'I don't think we c an afford a grandfather c loc k at the m om ent, darling,' I told her. 'Maybe in a c ouple of years .' 'Y es ,' s he s ighed. 'It was jus t a thought.' It was a thought, however, whic h firm ly planted its elf in m y head. I, too, liked the idea of a grandfather c loc k but I was n't going to adm it it to Chris tine. It would be a s urpris e. S he would wake up on Chris tm as m orning with a grandfather c loc k tic k-toc king and c him ing in the c orner. T he following S aturday, on the pretext of c om pleting an urgent report at the offic e, I s et off for Roper's S ales room in Collington to look for a grandfather c loc k. I always enjoyed brows ing around auc tion hous es , running m y hand along the s m ooth oak tables and m ahogany c hes ts of drawers , s itting in beautifullyc arved balloon-bac k c hairs , breathing in the s m ell of old furniture and bees wax, and watc hing the dealers pric ing up the furniture and bargain hunters rootling through the boxes of bric -a-brac . S om etim es I jus t s at there, being buoyed up by watc hing other people bid agains t eac h other. I never bought anything expens ive - jus t a box of old letters , s om e faded photographs , a dus ty book given as a prize on s om e s peec h day in the dim and dis tant pas t, a c ouple of old-fas hioned fountain pens , a hands om e inkwell (dam aged). Onc e I bought, for a pound, a dog-eared exerc is e book with hard blac k c overs , written by a s oldier fighting in the trenc hes in the Firs t W orld W ar. T here are tender poem s , vivid ac c ounts and horrific des c riptions . It is a gem . B ooks s uc h as this , of no real value in its elf, tells the s tory of a s oldier now dead and gone and probably forgotten. T here is no nam e, no details of his regim ent, jus t page after page of c opperplate handwriting. One would have thought that s uc h a poignant rec ord of his experienc es would have been treas ured by his fam ily ins tead of ending up as part of a job lot at an auc tion hous e. A s I turn the yellowing pages of the book, I think with s adnes s of that young m an and of the horrors he had experienc ed, and I wonder if he ever did return hom e to the young wom an in his poem s , the girl he loved. I had another reas on for being rather s entim ental about Roper's S ales room , of c ours e. It was where, three years earlier, I had c aught s ight of the pers on I would c om e to love - the s tunning young wom an with s oft blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes who was now m y wife. T he s ales room now was full of pros pec tive buyers hoping to buy one or m ore of the piec es of the elegant and expens ive-looking furniture on dis play. P erhaps s om eone had the wall-s pac e for one of the huge oil paintings of s olem n-fac ed individuals or dark lands c apes in ornate gold fram es : s om e were as big as the end wall in our s itting-room . T here were s c ulptured bronzes , s him m ering c rys tal and delic ate porc elain but none of that interes ted m e this tim e. My eye was im m ediately c aught by two grandfather c loc ks whic h looked as if they had c om e s traight out of the palac e at V ers ailles . I read the c atalogue des c ription of the firs t: 'A Georgian eight-day long-c as e c loc k in exquis ite c ondition, the twelve-inc h bras s arc hed dial having a s ilvered c hapter ring with s ubs idiary s ec onds ring and c alendar aperture inc orporated into the unus ual m atted c entre. T he arc hed top is c entred by a c onvex s ilvered plaque ins c ribed by the m as ter c rafts m an W ilfred Dows on of T ic khill and flanked by s c rolling dolphin m ounts with ornate s pandrels to the c orners and engraved bands of im bric ated leaves to the borders . T he pagoda hood, s urm ounted by globe finials , has fluted c olum ns A nd s o it went on for another three paragraphs . It was all gobbledegook to m e. I jus t wanted a plain grandfather c loc k that worked. 'It's a beautiful piec e, is n't it?' s aid a dis tinguis hed-looking m an s tanding next to m e. He wore an expens ive woollen overc oat hanging from his s houlders ; beneath I c ould s ee an equally expens ive blac k-s tripe s uit and a red-and-white s potted s ilk bow tie. 'Interes ted are you?' 'Y es ,' I replied. 'W hat age do you think it is ?' 'I'm afraid I've no idea,' I replied. 'I'm no expert on c loc ks , but it is s plendid.' T he m an, who was obvious ly interes ted in the piec e him s elf, c learly thought that I was intending to m ake a bid for the c loc k. He realis ed now that I pos ed no threat. 'I s hould s ay c irc a1775,' he inform ed m e. 'More late Georgian than early. I'm looking for a c om panion for m y flam e m ahogany long-c as e. T he one I have has a painted m oon roller with phas es of the m oon.' 'Y ou don't s ay! ' 'W ith Roc oc o s c roll s pandrels and dentil m oulded hood.' My c om panion obvious ly knew his c loc ks and was intent on dem ons trating as m uc h to m e. 'How m uc h do you think this c loc k will fetc h?' I as ked him . He s uc ked in his breath. 'Oh, anything between two and three, I s hould think.' 'Hundred?' He wagged his index finger at m e and c hortled. 'Y ou're a teas e.' 'Y ou m ean thous ands ?' 'Of c ours e,' he replied. 'It's way beyond m y poc ket,' I told him . 'I jus t want a plain, ordinary grandfather c loc k.' 'T hey're c alled long-c as e c loc ks , to be c orrec t, and I think you will find there are very, very few whic h are plain and ordinary. E ac h one is unique. T hey didn't c om e off a produc tion line, you know. However, you m ight try the new s hop that's jus t opened in S tation P arade in B rindc liffe. I bought a very attrac tive oakc as ed brac ket c loc k from there only las t week. V ery reas onable pric es . T he c hap deals m os tly in m antel c loc ks but I did notic e he has a long-c as e, a little the wors e for wear but it m ight be the thing you're looking for. Might have gone by now, of c ours e. If it is s till for s ale, jus t m ake s ure it's not been c obbled together. Y ou know, the top of one, the bottom of another, the workings of a third. He s eem ed a dec ent enough s ort, helpful and all that, but jus t m ake s ure.' 'T hank you, thank you very m uc h,' I s aid, 'I'll pop along there now.' A s I m ade m y way out of the c rowded s howroom I heard an unm is takably s trident voic e. A wom an with a florid fac e and bright c opper-c oloured perm was haranguing the poor young m an behind the c ounter, who was trying to deal with pros pec tive bidders . It was Connie, and I s topped to lis ten. 'W hat I want to know is why thes e m edals are s o s m all?' Connie dem anded. 'W hy didn't m y father get big ones like everybody els e?' 'He would have done, m adam ,' the young m an told her. 'T hes e are m iniatures .' 'W ell, why are they m iniatures ?' s napped Connie. 'W hy aren't they full s ize?' 'If I m ight explain,' s ighed the m an. 'Y our father will have been awarded the m edals full s ize but he would wear the m iniature vers ions for form al oc c as ions , like regim ental dinners and s uc h.' 'Oh, I s ee,' s aid Connie, m ollified. 'S o they're not his proper m edals ?' 'No, m adam , jus t s m aller vers ions .' 'Now I c om e to think of it,' s aid Connie, 'he did have s om e others , bigger ones . I think they're in a drawer at hom e. I m us t look them out.' 'I s ee here he was awarded the Military Medal,' s aid the young m an. 'He was a brave m an, m y father,' s aid Connie. 'He lived in a c ellar for a week at Dunkirk with nothing but a pound of s ugar and rain water.' 'Really?' s aid the young m an. 'A nd are you interes ted in s elling the m edals , m adam ?' 'W hat?' 'P ut them in the auc tion?' 'I m os t c ertainly am not! ' c ried Connie. 'S ell m y father's m edals ! Over m y dead body.' W ith that s he s c ooped up the item s in ques tion and headed for the door. 'Hello, Connie,' I s aid, c om ing up behind her. 'Oh, it's you. Did you hear what he s aid about m e s elling m y father's m edals ? I only c am e in to s ee what they were and how m uc h they m ight be worth and he nearly had them out of m y hand.' 'S om e people have to s ell them ,' I s aid. 'It's s ad, but they need the m oney.' 'I'd s ooner live on bread and water than part with Dad's m edals ,' s he replied. 'T he very thought! ' 'Can I give you a lift?' I as ked. 'I have to go through the town c entre to get to B rindc liffe. I'm looking for a c loc k for Chris tine.' S he c learly was n't lis tening. 'S ell m y father's m edals indeed! ' s he m um bled to hers elf, and I had to repeat m y offer. 'Oh well, thanks , if I'm not putting you out.' T hen, as we walked to the c ar park, s he s aid, 'I'm glad I've bum ped into you.' 'Not in trouble, am I?' I as ked. 'No, it's m e what's got problem s ,' s he told m e. S he tried not to look c onc erned but s he c learly was . 'I was n't going to s ay anything but m y T ed s aid I ought to m ention it. It's been on m y m ind for quite s om e tim e now.' 'W hatever is it, Connie?' I as ked. 'S erious allegations have been m ade about m e,' s he s aid. 'I beg your pardon?' 'A llegations that I went s wanning off on holiday to Franc e and had not got proper perm is s ion. I got bac k after trying to s c atter Dad's as hes , in m y highly peturberant s tate of m ind, to find this very unpleas ant letter waiting for m e. S om e nas ty piec e of work had words down at the E duc ation Offic e, m aking allegations , and I got this written warning from them in P ers onnel.' 'B ut that's over two m onths ago! ' I exc laim ed, knowing all too well who was behind it. 'W hy didn't you s ay anything earlier?' 'A s I've s aid, I've been thinking things over. B rooding, m y T ed s ays . Dealing with Dad's m edals jus t now has brought it all bac k. I rec kon it's about tim e I pac ked in the c aretaking at the Centre. I'm not getting any younger and rec eiving nas ty letters like that, after all I do, is very ups etting.' 'Don't be too has ty about pac king in the job, Connie,' I s aid. 'W e'll get it s orted out. I'm s ure that when Dr Gore knows why you went to Franc e and -' 'Oh, I've written to him . A fter brooding about it for a bit, I s ent a letter jus t this las t week. S peak to the organ-grinder not the m onkey is what Dad always us ed to s ay. I've told him that they c an s tic k the job. T hey jus t don't apprec iate the hours I put in at the Centre.' 'B ut we do, Connie,' I s aid reas s uringly. 'W e think you do a brilliant job.' 'Not s o s ure about that,' s he s aid through tight lips . 'I rec kon it was Mr Clam p what reported m e after all that c arry-on with the nudes .' 'No, Connie,' I s aid. 'Mr Clam p m ight be diffic ult and untidy, and lots of other things bes ides , but he wouldn't do s uc h a m ean-m inded thing as reporting you.' 'W ell, s om ebody's been m aking s erious allegations about m e,' s aid Connie, 'and I'll tell you this , when I find out who the alligator is I s hall give them a real piec e of m y m ind.' J us t Cloc ks was s andwic hed between a health food s hop and a dry c leaners on S tation P arade. Its newly painted front, dark green with gold lettering above the door, s tood out from the res t of the s hops in the arc ade. In the window a s ingle c loc k was dis played - a large and im pres s ive gilt m etal m antel c loc k, inlaid with m other-of-pearl and s tanding on a blac k m arble bas e. A s I turned the door handle, I res igned m ys elf to the fac t that the long-c as e c loc k I had c om e to view would be way out of m y pric e range. B ut I had c om e all this way, s o nothing ventured... T he bell tinkled dis c reetly as I entered and then a voic e c am e from the bac k. 'I'll be with you in one m om ent.' I s topped in m y trac ks . I had heard that voic e before. It was dis tinc tive: deep, res onant, authoritative. B efore I c ould es c ape, a lean, s allow-c om plexioned m an with heavy-lidded eyes and blac k, c arefullyparted hair em erged from behind the red velvet c urtain whic h s eparated the s howroom from the bac k of the s hop. It was like the entranc e of the villain at a pantom im e. 'Mr Frobis her! ' I gas ped. 'Mr P hinn,' he s aid c alm ly. W e s tood s taring at eac h other for a m om ent and then we s poke together. 'I was -' I s tarted. 'I hope -' he s tarted. W e were s aved further em barras s m ent by the bell as another c us tom er entered, a s m all wom an in a bright heads c arf and large furry boots . 'I'm looking for a c loc k?' s he s aid. 'I'll jus t have a look round,' I s aid to Mr Frobis her, relieved by the interruption. 'P leas e go ahead and deal with this c us tom er.' T he thought entered m y head that I c ould wander c as ually to the door, pretending to look at the nearby c loc ks and exit quietly, but that would be c owardly, s o I c ros s ed the room to peer at the fine s elec tion of tim epiec es on dis play. T here were bronze m antel c loc ks , intric ately inlaid brac ket c loc ks , portic o c loc ks under glas s dom es , enam elled table c loc ks , m ahogany-c as ed c loc ks , c him ing brac ket c loc ks , round wooden wall c loc ks , s m all bras s c arriage c loc ks , lantern c loc ks , c loc ks of every s ize and s hape and c olour. Des pite m y genuine interes t, m y m ind was buzzing with wondering what I would s ay to the m an who I had driven out of teac hing. 'I want a c loc k for m y niec e who's getting m arried,' the wom an s aid. 'W edding pres ent. S om ething a bit different but nothing too big and c ertainly not too pric ey. T hat pink and gold one in the window is a bit too fanc y for m y tas te but I like the s hape.' 'A h, yes , the Frenc h m antel c loc k,' s aid Mr Frobis her, s m iling s lightly. 'Y es , it is rather ornate and not to everyone's tas te. P erhaps a trifle expens ive, too.'

T he wom an pointed to an exquis ite bronze and m arble tim epiec e. 'T hat's quite nic e. How m uc h is that one?' s he as ked. 'Four hundred and twenty pounds .' 'W hat?' s he gas ped. 'Four hundred and twenty pounds ?' 'Y ou will find, m adam ,' s aid Mr Frobis her, 'that thes e are fine quality antique tim epiec es and, as s uc h, are expens ive.' 'I'll try the Co-op,' s he s aid bluntly and left. Mr Frobis her then turned his attention to m e. 'Now then,' he s aid, looking m e s traight in the eye. 'How are you?' I as ked. It s ounded s o feeble. 'W ell, as you s ee, I'm pretty well.' 'It's a lovely s hop.' 'Y es , it is .' I c oughed nervous ly. T his was a nightm are. 'I did ring the s c hool a c ouple of tim es to have a word with you, but you were not available. I m eant to s ay -' 'P leas e, pleas e, Mr P hinn, don't look s o abas hed. Y ou really don't need to s ay anything.' 'I wanted to explain -' 'Y our vis it to K ing Henry's College was quite pos s ibly one of the bes t things that c ould have happened to m e.' 'Really?' 'In a s trange and rather unexpec ted s ort of way, that is ,' he added. 'No teac her likes to be told he is not up to s c ratc h. I have to adm it at firs t I was hurt, very hurt by your report and by what I c ons idered to be s om e quite unfounded c om m ents . T hen I thought to m ys elf, it was only the judgem ent of one pers on who had obs erved jus t one les s on, one pers on who has not had a great deal of experienc e in s c hool ins pec tion. T hen I bec am e angry, partic ularly when Mr Nels on s eem ed to ac c ept without ques tion what you had s aid. He had s poken to m e a few tim es about m y work but nothing of any c ons equenc e. I rather thought that he would s pring to m y defenc e but, s adly, he did not, no m ore than m em bers of the E nglis h Fac ulty or m y union repres entative. I found that the hardes t. You really c om e to know who your friends are in s ituations like that. I know I was not the bes t teac her in the world, Mr P hinn, and, I have to adm it that over the pas t few years I have been ground down, like m any teac hers , I expec t, by the inc es s ant paperwork, the interferenc e of s o-c alled experts , negative m edia reports , objec tionable parents and the deteriorating behaviour of the pupils . However, I always thought I did a dec ent enough job. B ut that's by the by. W ater under the bridge, s o to s peak.' Mr Frobis her took out a large blue handkerc hief and blew his nos e nois ily. 'W hen I was offered early retirem ent with a pens ion enhanc em ent and a lum p s um , I got to thinking that perhaps all this was for the bes t. Did I really want to go on for a few m ore years quite dem oralis ed and depres s ed? I had toyed with the idea of opening a s hop for s om e tim e. My father was a great c ollec tor of tim epiec es and I, too, am fas c inated by them . Indeed, the pros pec t of c learing out all the c loc ks from the hous e was very attrac tive, not leas t to m y wife.' He paus ed for a m om ent and took a long, deep breath. 'My wife is not a well wom an, and retiring early m eant I c ould s pend m ore tim e with her. T im e is very prec ious for one who has a lim ited am ount. S o why, I thought, s hould I not do s om ething I really wanted to do and s pend m ore tim e at hom e? T he bank m anager was m os t helpful, the prem is es c am e up for rent and, as you s ee, here I am and I have never felt m ore c ontented.' 'W ell, I'm very pleas ed it has worked out for you, Mr Frobis her,' I s aid, and m eant it. 'A nd here you are,' he s aid. 'Not here to ins pec t m e again, I hope.' 'No, no,' I s aid has tily. 'I'm looking for a c loc k and I think I've s een jus t the one.' I turned in the direc tion of the grandfather c loc k in the c orner. 'A h, the long-c as e c loc k. Not very old. Nineteenth c entury. Quite plain but no les s attrac tive for all that. Unus ual painted dial, eight-day m ovem ent and s igned P erc y Farrington of Fettles ham . S om e s uperfic ial dam age to the c as e and at the top but the piec e is all original, I c an vouc h for that.' 'I was at Roper's S ales room earlier today looking at the c loc ks but they were a bit too expens ive and, to be hones t, rather too fanc y for m y tas te.' 'A h, you like plain things , Mr P hinn?' as ked Mr Frobis her. 'T his c loc k, in fac t, c am e from Roper's . I bought it a c ouple of years ago and it's been s tanding in m y lounge tic king away as regular as c loc kwork, if you will exc us e the c lic he. A c tually, it's not been in the s hop long. I have the provenanc e whic h is always of interes t to buyers . It was a young m an who s old it. A pparently he us ed to keep his c ric ket bats in it.' He looked at it alm os t lovingly. 'Y ou would have thought he would have wanted to keep the c loc k, wouldn't you.' It was a part of his life, his boyhood. It has m em ories . B ut there's no ac c ounting for people, is there?' 'No,' I replied. 'T here is n't.' 'Now, I expec t you wis h to know the pric e. Let m e s ee.' Mr Frobis her c ons ulted a ledger on the c ounter and ran a long finger down the page. 'Five hundred and fifty pounds . If you purc has e it, I would, of c ours e, deliver the c loc k and ens ure that it works well in its new hom e. Long-c as e c loc ks are a trifle tem peram ental, you know. Rather like people. A ll different, all with their own pers onalities .' He s troked the s ide gently as he m ight a treas ured pet. 'T hey have to be pos itioned c orrec tly, s tanding perfec tly upright. T hey have to be looked after. If they are c ared for, they will go on and on. I'll be s orry to s ee this c loc k go. It has a very c om panionable pres enc e.' T he m an had bec om e anim ated as he talked about his c loc ks . He ges tured with his hands . His eyes s hone. He s m iled. Had he only s hown the s am e enthus ias m with his pupils that he s howed for his c loc ks , I thought s adly, he would s till be teac hing.

19 It was a bitterly c old J anuary afternoon when I vis ited Mertonbec k P rim ary S c hool. T he overnight fros t was s till white on the ground. I drove deep into the dale along a narrow twis ting road with a great rolling fros ty expans e s tretc hing out before m e, and upwards to the c urving s hadowy woods and bare dis tant fells . A s I approac hed the village, the road ros e s teeply and took a s harp turn by an old s tone farm hous e drenc hed in a great m as s of twis ting ivy. I had jus t negotiated the bend when an anc ient trac tor trundled out through the farm gate, right into m y path. I s kidded to a halt and we ended up alm os t alongs ide eac h other. T he farm er, a m an with a red-roughened c om plexion and heavy grey s tubble, s urveyed m e for a m om ent, before s haking his head. I had s een that fac e c ountles s tim es before, a fac e s eas oned by the weather, lined like leather and full of c harac ter. I c ould im agine this m an s triding out for m iles ac ros s fields and m oors , negotiating walls and c ros s ing bec ks , living in the open, rain or s hine. Here was the arc hetypal Dales farm er - c raggy-fac ed, tough as old boots , with a bluntnes s , integrity and c heerful good hum our. T hat day, however, the good hum our was abs ent. "A s t there been a deeath, then?' he as ked, leaning forward and res ting his arm s on the s teering wheel. His dog, a lean blac k and white c ollie whic h was perc hed bes ide him , fixed m e with dark intelligent eyes . 'P ardon?' 'Is t's om ebody deead?' 'Not that I know of,' I replied. 'W ell, tha wants to s low down, otherwis e there will be. Rooads are treac herous at this tim e o'year. It's like a bloody ic e rink. W herever tha're off to, it'll s till be theer when tha gets theer. T ha not driving round P ic c adilly bloody Circ us , tha knaas .' 'Y es , I'm s orry, I w as driving too fas t.' 'T oo fas t! ' he c ac kled. 'T ha c am e round that c orner like a jac k rabbit wi' t'runs . It's a bad bend is that, an' ic y an' all. T here's s heep on thes e rooads and c attle and dogs . T hey don't us e zebra c ros s ings , tha knaas .' I felt like a naughty s c hoolboy being reprim anded by the headteac her. It did oc c ur to m e that the farm er c ould have c ons idered the pos s ibility that there jus t m ight be s om eone els e on the road and that he c ould have s ounded his horn as a warning to other road us ers or even s topped to c hec k that the road was c lear before pulling out, but I did not wis h to prolong the c onvers ation. 'Y es , I'm s orry. I'll take m ore c are in future.' T he farm er, s c ratc hing his s tubble, was c learly not going to let m e off s o lightly. 'Mi dog were killed on this rooad a c ouple o' years bac k,' he announc ed grim ly. 'T rying to get t's heep into yonder field. S he went bac k for a lazy yow and were knoc ked ovver by one of you s peedin' m otoris ts .' T he c ollie bes ide him c oc ked an ear as if lis tening. 'A ye, and s he were a c ham pion dog were Meg.' 'I'm very s orry,' I replied feebly. 'E r... I wonder if you m ight m ove your trac tor. I do have an appointm ent and I'm running a little late.' 'B etter late than deead,' he obs erved. 'Y es ,' I agreed. 'W ell, tek it eas y down t'hill or tha'll end up in t'watter.' He revers ed the trac tor s lowly and laborious ly bac k into the farm entranc e, and m an and dog watc hed m e as I drove off, at a s nail's pac e, down the hill and towards the village. I knew what he m eant by ending up 'in t'watter'. A head of m e lay the c lus tered village, beyond whic h a great blue expans e s him m ered in the c old afternoon s unlight. T he res ervoir was bounded by high fells c lothed in dark pine woods . W hat a plac e to live, I thought. I had vis ited Mertonbec k P rim ary S c hool three years before to tes t the c hildren's reading as part of a s urvey on s tandards of literac y. T he infant c hildren had joined m e one by one to talk a little about their reading interes ts , read a c ouple of pages from their books and to c om plete s om e word rec ognition tes ts . S tandards had been exc eptionally high and the s ubs equent report had been glowing. T hat afternoon I was there to s ee if thes e s tandards had been m aintained. I had inform ed the headteac her, a bright and enthus ias tic young wom an c alled J ean P otter, that I was partic ularly interes ted in the c hildren's s peaking and lis tening s kills . Mertonbec k P rim ary S c hool lay in the very heart of the village, a s m all s tone building with a dark grey s late roof, and enc los ed by s hiny iron railings . T he interior was typic al of m any s m all Dales s c hools : one large s quare room , a floor of well-worn, polis hed wooden bloc ks , a high beam ed c eiling and long m ullioned windows . Mrs P otter was watc hing for m y arrival and c am e down the path to greet m e. 'I'm s orry I'm a bit late, Mrs P otter,' I s aid. 'I had to go s lowly bec aus e of the treac herous road c onditions .' A s the words c am e out, I rem em bered the farm er's rem ons trations and felt a guilty flus h c reep up m y fac e. Luc kily Mrs P otter didn't notic e as s he was leading the way into the c las s room . 'I thought that by the afternoon the fros t would have gone.' 'Oh, Mr P hinn,' c huc kled the headteac her, 'you s till have a lot to learn about the weather in the Dales , you really do.' S itting quietly with folded arm s and s traight bac ks was a c las s of healthy-looking, bright-eyed c hildren. 'W e've had quite a few c hanges s inc e you were las t here,' explained the headteac her. 'If you rec all, we were then all in the one room , infants and juniors together, but our little num ber has inc reas ed s o m uc h in the las t c ouple of years that we now have a s eparate c las s room , only tem porary, at the bac k. You won't know Mrs Cooper. S he was appointed las t S eptem ber, on a tem porary c ontrac t, to teac h the infants this year. S he c am e with exc ellent referenc es and apparently has had a great deal of experienc e. You'll be s eeing her later.' I c ould tell by a s light edge in her voic e that the headteac her was not overly im pres s ed with her new c olleague. Mrs P otter turned to the c hildren who were s till s itting m otionles s and s ilent, and s aid in a loud and c heerful voic e, 'S hall we all s ay a nic e big "Good afternoon" to Mr P hinn, c hildren, and m ake him feel really welc om e.' 'Good afternoon, Mr P hinn,' c hanted the boys and girls . T his s eem ed to be a s ort of s ignal for them to relax, for they unfolded their arm s and s huffled in their c hairs . 'Good afternoon,' I replied, s m iling at them . 'W ell, Mr P hinn,' s aid Mrs P otter, 'if you would c are to m ake yours elf c om fortable on m y c hair, we'll get s tarted.' S he put her hand on the s houlder of a gangly boy with ears like c up handles , who was twirling his penc il between his thum b and forefinger. 'P enc il down, pleas e, Darren,' s he s aid, fixing him with a fac e whic h s aid 'B eware'. T he teac her's voic e was a little s harper in tone. 'Y ou m ight like to tell Mr P hinn what we have been doing.' T he boy turned and gave m e a tired look. 'Legends ,' he announc ed s om ewhat unenthus ias tic ally. 'W e've been writing about loc al legends and folklore.' 'S ounds very interes ting,' I s aid. 'A ye,' s aid the boy lac onic ally. 'A nd today we're reading out our final drafts to the whole c las s ,' added Mrs P otter, s m iling broadly, 'in a c onfident, c lear and interes ting way.' T he firs t s peaker, a plum p girl with a pale, heart-s haped fac e and large, round s pec tac les , c am e to the front c lutc hing a wodge of paper and announc ed with great as s uranc e, 'I'm going to tell you about the legend of "T he Los t V illage". It is a fam ous s tory told to m e by m y Nanna Harris on.' Here was a future teac her in the m aking, I thought, as s he looked over the top of her s pec tac les , c leared her throat, paus ed for effec t and then began. 'Many, m any years ago, there was a beautiful village near here. It was s et deep in the dale, and all around were rolling green hills . T he village had little s tone hous es , a s hop, an old c hurc h with a tall, tall s pire, and a c obbled m arket plac e with a fountain. One day, a beggar c am e into the village. He had walked a long way and was hungry and thirs ty. He went from hous e to hous e, as king for s om ething to eat and drink, and s hoes for his poor s wollen feet. B ut everyone s lam m ed their doors agains t him . W hen the beggar went to drink from the fountain, the people s et their dogs on him . 'J us t outs ide the village, halfway up the hill, was an old s tone c ottage and here a wom an c alled S arah Merton lived. S he took pity on the beggar when s he s aw him lean over to drink from the m uddy s tream whic h ran outs ide her hous e, and gave him food and c lothes . He thanked her, but before s etting off again he turned and pointed down the hill to the beautiful little village. "Not one c up of water, Not one c rus t of bread, Not one pair of tattered s hoes , Nor a c ot to res t m y head. I plac e m y c urs e upon that town; Y e waters ris e, ye people drown." 'T he next day it began to rain, and for forty days and forty nights rain poured down. S tream s burs t their banks , gardens were s wept away, fields bec am e s wam ps and the road bec am e a foam ing river. W hen the rain s topped, the beautiful little village had dis appeared and in its plac e was a great lake. T he only hous e for m iles around was S arah Merton's c ottage, and it is s till there today.' T he girl paus ed for a m om ent, peered through the large s pec tac les and s aid, 'You m ay not think that is a true s tory, but s om etim es at dus k, if you lis ten c arefully, you will hear the dis tant m oaning and groaning of the drowned people. S om etim es when it has been very hot, and the s tream s have s hrivelled to a tric kle, you m ight s ee the top of the c hurc h s pire ris ing above the water. A nd m y Nanna s ays s he onc e heard the m uffled c langing of the c hurc h bell.' T here was total s ilenc e in the c las s room . 'T hat's it,' s he s aid, before folding her s heets of paper and returning to her des k. 'I think a round of applaus e is in order for that wonderful s tory,' s aid Mrs P otter, vigorous ly s m ac king her hands together. 'W ell done, S andra, that was a s plendid effort.' T he teac her pointed to a s turdy-looking boy with s hiny dark hair and large pale eyes . 'Now, J am es , your turn next. Let us hear your legend.' T he boy rather reluc tantly m ade his way to the front of the room and turned to fac e the c las s . He s huffled, huffed and puffed and began. 'T his is t'legend of B rave B es s . Mi granddad told m e this s tory and I wrote it down.' He s niffed, rubbed his c hin and, with brow furrowed in c onc entration, began to read. 'It was t'year of t'Great W inter. T 's now began to fall and s oon t'land were like a white blanket. B illy Goodwin, who were a bit owlder than m e at t'tim e, s et off early one raw m orning in a wuthering wind, with 'is father who were t's hepherd. 'Is father was a reight big s turdy m an, us ed to t'bitter winters but that winter were one o' t'wors t. Cours e 'e didn't like goin' out on s uc h a day but 'e 'ad to get 'is s heep in. T hey took with 'em B illy's dog, B es s .' 'I've heard this s tory, m is s ,' c ried a girl in the front des k. 'It's really good.' 'W ell, let J am es finis h it, J ade,' s aid the teac her. 'No m ore interruptions , pleas e.' 'S hall I go on, m is s ?' as ked the boy. T he teac her nodded. 'S now was falling fas t and t'ic y wind began to blow m ore fierc ely. T hey wanted t's heep in s afely afore a blizzard s et in. B y lunc htim e they 'ad gathered all t'floc k and were 'eading for 'om e when a s wirling m is t c om e down. A s they got lower down t'fell out o' t'm is t, they notic ed s om e s heep 'ad s trayed. B illy whis tled for B es s and s ent 'er bac k up t'fell into t'm is t after t'los t s heep. A fter a s hort while, s om e s heep c ould be s een joining t'floc k, but there were no s ign of B es s . B illy whis tled and whis tled but B es s were nowhere to be s een. T hey c arried on down t'fells ide until they were bac k at t'farm . W hen they c ounted t'floc k, they 'ad every las t s heep, but there were s till no B es s . "'Ow c an this be?" as ked t's hepherd. T hey waited and waited for B es s but s he nivver did c om e bac k. Nivver! T hat were t'las t B illy Goodwin's father s aw of 'er.' T he c hild paus ed dram atic ally and from the bac k of the c las s room c am e a faint s ob. 'B ut that's not t'end of t's tory,' s aid J am es hurriedly. 'Not by a long c halk. Many years later, and I'm talkin' ovver fifty or s ixty, B illy Goodwin was again up on t'fell on a raw winter's day jus t like t'one before, when t's now was falling thic k and fas t and an ic y wind were blowing. A nyroad, 'e told 'is s on to hurry on down wi' t's heep and 'e'd follow on behind as fas t as 'e c ould, but 'e were an old m an now and c ouldn't m ove s o fas t ac ros s t'rough ground. B efore 'e 'ad gone far, a thic k m is t s uddenly c om e down jus t like it'd done when 'e were a lad. 'E got c om pletely los t, not knowing whether to go right nor left. S oon, very c old and s hiverin', 'e 'uddled into a little roc ky hollow out of t'bitter wind and dec ided to wait for t'm is t to c lear. 'E 'ad 'ardly been c rouc hed there for a m inute when 'e s aw 'er. It were B es s , 'is s heepdog from long ago. 'E s tood up and went towards 'er but s he m oved away from 'im . "'E re, girl," 'e c alled to 'er but s he kept m oving on, jus t ahead of 'im . Following 'er through t'thic k m is t, 'e m ade 'is way down t'fell. W hen 'e dropped below t'm is t, B illy found 'im s elf jus t above t'farm but there were no s ign of B es s . S he 'ad dis appeared again. B illy realis ed that s he'd c om e to s how 'im t'way 'om e, that s he 'ad s aved 'im . A nd does tha know what?' 'No,' c horus ed the c las s , trans fixed. 'W hen 'e looked into s now, there were 'is footprints , as big as owt, but there weren't a s ign of any paw prints , not one.' Later, I found the opportunity to s peak to J am es . 'T hat was a rem arkable legend,' I told him . 'A ye, it's not bad, is it?' he s aid. 'Do you live on a farm ?' 'I do.' 'W ith lots of s heep?' 'A ye.' 'I rec kon you know quite a lot about s heep.' 'A ye, I rec kon I do.' 'A nd s heepdogs .' 'A ye.' Not a very c hatty lad, I thought, but I pers evered. 'A nd have you got a dog, like the boy in the legend?' 'No, but m i dad 'as .' 'A nd what's his nam e?' 'Mi dad or t'dog's ?' 'T he dog's nam e. W hat's he c alled?' 'S he. It's a bitc h c alled J es s . Five-year-old. W on quite a few trials afore s he were two-year.' I was about to as k another ques tion when J am es c ontinued. 'B itc hes are better than dogs , tha knaas , when it c om es to m anaging s heep, that is .' 'Really?' 'Oh, aye.' 'W hy is that, then?' I as ked, s taring into the large pale eyes . 'T hey lis ten better, work harder and are quieter. Mi grandm a rec kons it's t's am e with 'um ans but m i granddad wunt agree.' T he boy c hewed his thum b for a m om ent and s tared out of the window. He was in no hurry to c ontinue. I rem em bered what Harold had s aid to m e early on in m y c areer about giving c hildren breathing s pac e, not being too quic k to c om e in with another ques tion, s o I paus ed and took in the view. W e s at there together s taring at the expans e of fros ted greens , the dis tant hills c apped in grey c louds . 'Grand i'n't it?' obs erved the boy. 'A ye, you need a quiet dog. Can't 'ave an anim al that goes s nappin' and yappin' and barkin' and c has in' after t's heep, otherwis e they s pook 'em . Y ou need a dog who c an s ee well and lis ten well and be able to "eye" t's heep.' 'W hat does that m ean?' I as ked. 'T o "eye" a s heep?' 'W ell, keep 'em together, not let 'em wander off. Now, m i dad's dog, J es s , s he c an "eye" c ham pion. S he c an m anage a large floc k or a few s trays and pic k out a s heep belonging to another farm as eas y as owt. A ye, there's not m uc h s he c an't fettle. S he c an find a s heep buried deep down in t's now.' 'How does s he do that then?' 'W ell, s he s tops dead s till as s oon as s he s c ents owt. It's c alled "s ettin'". S he jus t freezes , yelps a little bit, and then we dig. S heep c an be as m uc h as ten or fifteen feet down but a good dog will find it.' 'S he s ounds a rem arkable anim al,' I s aid. 'A ye, took after 'er m other. Meg were jus t t's am e. K illed s he was at top o'rooad by a right s tupid s peedin' driver.' Later I joined Mrs Cooper in the tem porary infant c las s room at the bac k of the little s c hool. T he c las s room was an unattrac tive barn of a plac e and entirely out of keeping with the res t of the neat s tone building. P erc hed on s ix large c onc rete bloc ks and c ons truc ted of dark panelled wood the c olour of gravy, it looked like an old s hed. T he only differenc e was that this ugly c ons truc tion had huge s quare windows on all s ides . Mrs Cooper, a good-looking, m iddle-aged wom an with a hennis h bos om and bras s y blonde hair, had m ade little effort to m ake the interior of the hut bright and c heerful. T here were no dis plays of large, c oloured paintings , no glos s y pos ters , no c hildren's work on the wall s pac e that exis ted, jus t a few lis ts of words and rules of the c las s room . 'I wis h you c ould do s om ething about this hut, Mr P hinn,' s he told m e as we waited for the c hildren to c om e in after afternoon playtim e. 'It's like a furnac e in s um m er and a freezer in winter. W hat we need is a proper extens ion in keeping with the c harac ter of the s c hool.' 'I agree, Mrs Cooper,' I s aid, 'but, as in m os t things , it c om es down to m oney. T he c ounty has to m ake big c uts in the budget next year. For s om e s c hools that m eans c los ure. W ith your inc reas e in num bers there's no threat of that hanging over you but, you are right, an extens ion is needed.' I looked out of the window. 'A nd at leas t you've got the view.' S he glanc ed fleetingly at the m agnific ent lands c ape whic h lay beyond. A t this point, I notic ed that her des k was pos itioned s o it fac ed not the awes om e panoram a but a m uddy trac k leading to s om e dilapidated farm building whic h effec tively bloc ked out any view. 'W hy don't you have your des k fac ing the fells ?' I as ked. T he teac her s eem ed rather taken abac k. 'W ell... bec aus e I prefer it where it is .' 'B ut you c ould look out on s uc h beauty every day,' I foolis hly c ontinued, 'rather than onto a s om ewhat depres s ing s c ene.' 'I really don't think it's part of m y job, Mr P hinn, to s tare idly at the view all day. I have c hildren to teac h. I like m y des k where it is . Now, I believe this afternoon you are partic ularly interes ted in the c hildren's s peaking and lis tening s kills . W ell, I think you'll find we have no problem s in the s peaking area. T he lis tening is quite another m atter. It's s om etim es diffic ult to s hut them up. I m ight be old-fas hioned, Mr P hinn, but I think there is a tim e for c hildren to s peak and a tim e for them to s it s till and be quiet.' I s pent the firs t part of the les s on lis tening to the c hildren read, talking to them and looking at their books and I was not im pres s ed. W hen the teac her announc ed it was tim e for the s tory, I pos itioned m ys elf in the c orner to watc h the les s on. Mrs Cooper introduc ed m e without any fus s and then s ettled the c hildren down in a c irc le before her on a s quare of c arpet. 'It's s tory-tim e, Mr P hinn,' s he told m e. 'I feel it is im portant that c hildren learn to s it s till, c onc entrate and lis ten, don't you agree? David, will you s top wriggling about as if you have ants in your pants and, Gem m a, us e your handkerc hief, pleas e. It's not very ladylike to wipe your nos e where you are wiping it. You haven't got a handkerc hief? W ell, get a tis s ue from m y des k. A s I was s aying, Mr P hinn, s tory-tim e develops the c hildren's c onc entration and lis tening s kills and, of c ours e, introduc es them to new words and interes ting phras es .' I felt that Mrs Cooper s hould get on with the s tory and leave the jus tific ation of what s he was doing until later. T he c hildren were getting res tles s . David had s huffled off the c arpet and was polis hing the floor with his bottom . Gem m a had returned to wiping her nos e on the s leeve of her c ardigan. 'Now, before I s tart,' s aid Mrs Cooper, 'c an we all s it up nic ely. S traight bac ks , pleas e. A ll eyes this way. Onto the c arpet, pleas e, David. Gem m a, I won't tell you again! Have you got a tis s ue? W ell, will you us e it, pleas e? J ohn, I did not s ay lie on your bac k as if you're s unbathing. S it up. Right, I think we are all ready.' T he teac her paus ed for effec t and began to read the s tory from a rather s habby-looking pic ture book. 'Onc e upon a tim e, c hildren, long long ago there lived a -' 'B ig ugly m ons ter, m is s ?' It was David, the wriggler, who was waving his hand m adly in the air like a palm tree in a tornado. 'No, David, not a big ugly m ons ter. It was a beautiful princ es s c alled Im elda. P rinc es s Im elda had eyes as bright and as green as s parkling em eralds . S he had hair whic h fell down her bac k like a golden waterfall. Her hands were long and thin and her s kin was as white as -' 'A ghos t's , m is s ?' volunteered David. 'No, not a ghos t's , David,' replied the teac her, putting on an overly patient voic e. 'Her s kin was as white as the s now whic h c overed the fields . Her lips were as red as -' 'B lood, m is s ! ' piped up the c hild. 'David! W ill you lis ten, pleas e? Y ou are s poiling our s tory with your interruptions . It was not blood. P rinc es s Im elda's lips were as red as the c herries whic h c overed the trees in her garden.' Gem m a c eas ed her nos e-wiping for a m om ent to obs erve, 'Mis s , there wouldn't be c herries on the trees if it was winter.' 'T here would in this c ountry, Gem m a,' replied the teac her firm ly. 'It was a m agic c ountry where fruit grew all the year round. B ut P rinc es s Im elda was lonely. How s he longed for s om eone with whom to play. Great tears rolled down her s oft s kin. "A h m e, ah m e," s he s ighed s adly, "if only I had s om eone to play with and be m y friend. It's s o lonely being a princ es s ."' 'Mis s , I'd like to be a princ es s ,' Gem m a inform ed the c las s . 'I'm s ure you would, but princ es s es don't wipe their nos es on the s leeves of their c ardigans . Get another tis s ue, will you, pleas e.'

T he c hild s c urried to the front, pluc ked a tis s ue from the box on the teac her's des k and returned to her pos ition on the c arpet. 'Give your nos e a good blow, Gem m a. Now, where were we? A h, yes . B ut the days pas s ed and P rinc es s Im elda grew s adder and s adder, s itting all alone watc hing from her tall tower. T hen one day s om ething happened -' 'Did s he fall out, m is s ?' as ked David. T he teac her c los ed her eyes for a m om ent then took another breath. 'No, s he did not fall out, David. S he s aw in the dis tanc e a great c loud of s m oke.' 'A fire-eating dragon c om e to eat her up! ' 'David! ' s napped the teac her. 'Com e down here and s it at the front and lis ten! T hank you. Y ou know, Mr P hinn,' obs erved Mrs Cooper, looking over the c hildren's heads in m y direc tion, 's om etim es the c hildren get s o involved in the s tory that they c an't c ontain them s elves .' I c ould not im agine anyone getting exc ited about the ins ipid P rinc es s Im elda s itting at the top of her c as tle feeling s orry for hers elf all day. W hat a tires om e s tory c om pared to the legends I had heard the older c hildren read that afternoon. I s tayed for a while after s c hool to talk to the two teac hers individually and give an overview of what I had s een. In the firs t m eeting with Mrs P otter I was able to reas s ure the headteac her that s tandards in the junior departm ent were s till very high and the s ubs equent report would be pos itive. T he s ec ond interview, with the s tony-fac ed Mrs Cooper, proved to be m uc h m ore diffic ult. I began by inform ing the teac her in ques tion that the s tandard of work and the quality of the teac hing in the infants were jus t about s atis fac tory but that there was room for m ajor im provem ents . If the look Mrs Cooper gave m e c ould m aim , I would have left the s c hool on c rutc hes . B efore I c ould c ontinue s he launc hed into a diatribe. 'In fac t,' s he c onc luded, 'I s ugges t you have a go at teac hing them , Mr P hinn. It's all very well m aking all thes e c ritic al c om m ents . Y ou don't have the c hildren, day in and day out. T hes e farm ing c hildren c an be very diffic ult and dem anding. T hey have far too m uc h to s ay for them s elves , in m y opinion. Y es , indeed, you want to try teac hing them . A s m y hus band, who happens to be a headteac her, always s ays about s c hool ins pec tors , they are like eunuc hs . T hey would like to do it, but they c an't. T hey are jus t good with the advic e. A nd now I have a hom e to go to.' S he s tood, brus hed the c reas es out of her s kirt and m ade for the door. 'E xc us e m e, Mrs Cooper,' I s aid, as pleas antly as pos s ible, 'I have done you the c ourtes y of lis tening to what you have had to s ay. P leas e allow m e the s am e c ons ideration.' S he looked s tartled and then plonked hers elf bac k down on the c hair and s tared m alevolently in m y direc tion. 'T hank you,' I s aid and c ontinued with the report. A s Mrs P otter and I walked to m y c ar a little while later, the headteac her s aid, 'Mrs Cooper won't be with us m uc h longer. I think I m entioned s he is on a tem porary c ontrac t, thank goodnes s , and it will not be renewed.' 'I think I got off on the wrong foot with her,' I s aid. 'I quite innoc ently m entioned that I thought it was a s ham e to have her des k where s he c an't s ee the m agnific ent view of the fells , but s he bit m y head off' Mrs P otter rais ed a hand to s uppres s a s m ile, c huc kled to hers elf and then looked behind her. 'S he has the des k there for a reas on,' s he whis pered. 'Mrs Cooper does n't think anyone knows , but s he's having a bit of a fling with a loc al farm er. He drives his trac tor up and down that trac k during the day and if it's on for the evening, he gives her the thum bs up. I s hould think everybody in the village knows about the rom anc e, well... exc ept for Mr Cooper and the farm er's wife.'

20 T he Royal Infirm ary was a s quare, featureles s , redbric k building on the outs kirts of Fettles ham . From the rec eption des k, I was direc ted to Men's S urgic al. T here were four tubular m etal beds in Room 15 of W ard 6, three of whic h were oc c upied. B y the window, an extrem ely large and heavily-tattooed m an with a bullet-s haped bald head and a nec k as thic k as a pit bull terrier's , s at propped up, reading a news paper. He nodded in m y direc tion as I entered. A c ros s from him lay an em ac iated individual with a deathly pallor, pained expres s ion and c los ed eyes . He looked for all the world like a c orps e. In the third bed was a round-fac ed m an with c heeks s o red and s hiny they looked as if they had jus t been s c rubbed. I had never s een anyone look quite as healthy. He watc hed m e c ritic ally as I m ade m y way to the bed oppos ite and s tarted to put m y various pers onal item s in the s m all beds ide c abinet. 'How do,' he s aid. 'Oh, hello,' I replied. 'A nother for the butc her's knife then?' 'Y es .' 'W hat you in for?' 'A n operation on m y leg,' I told him . 'V aric os e veins ?' 'No, knee.' 'I've had varic os e veins - in both legs , m ind. S tripped 'em out, they did, a c ouple of year bac k. T hic k as ropes , they were. My legs looked like a road m ap of London, there were s o m any blue lines . Doc tor s aid it was a m irac le I c ould walk before the operation. T wenty-three s titc hes in eac h leg, I had, not c ounting the ones around the groin. W hat's up with your knee, then?' 'A n old rugby ac c ident.' 'V ery tric ky things are knees . I've heard it's a bit of a hit and m is s with knees . My c ous in, S tan, had an operation on his knee and lim ped for the res t of his life. Had to give up his ballroom danc ing. Never c lim bed a ladder again. Like hips are knees . T ric ky. T hey'll probably put a plas tic kneec ap in. You s ee, your joints c an be very problem atic al.' 'Really.' 'I'm in with haem orrhoids m ys elf. B y the hec k, you know what pain is with haem orrhoids . Do you know, fifty per c ent of the population have had haem orrhoids by the age of fifty.' 'Really.' 'It's a fac t. Haem orrhoids are enlarged blood ves s els in your anal pas s age.' 'Y es , I know.' 'Do you know why they're c alled piles ?' 'I have no idea,' I s aid, 'but I expec t you're going to tell m e.' 'B ec aus e the Latin word pila m eans ball,' he explained, m im ing a huge ball with his hands . 'I like to go into m y m edic al c ondition in s om e detail before I c om es into hos pital. Read up on it, know the fac ts . T hey pays m ore attention to you if they think you're in the know, you know. I find the doc tors are very s urpris ed when they realis e I'm genned up about m y c ondition.' 'Fas c inating,' I s aid. 'I've tried everything for m y haem orrhoids but they are unus ually s tubborn, as m y doc tor s aid. In fac t, in all his years of prac tis ing m edic ine he's never s een anything like them . I m ay very well be in a m edic al textbook. I've tried c ream s , s uppos itories , ic e pac ks . Have you had 'em ?' 'No, I haven't,' I s aid. 'T he itc hing's indes c ribable and when you go to the toilet it's like pas s ing glas s .' 'W hy don't you put a bleeding s oc k in it! ' s aid the bullet-headed individual. 'Y ou've been going on and on about your bleeding haem orrhoids all m orning. Y ou're like a bleeding gram ophone rec ord.' 'W ho rattled your c age then?' as ked the haem orrhoids . 'I'll c om e and rattle your bleeding haem orrhoids in a m inute. A nd as for pain, you don't know what pain is . Y ou have an 'ernia, m ate, then you'll know what pain is .' I c lim bed into bed. T he vis it to Fettles ham Royal Infirm ary was going to be an experienc e and no m is take. 'Hernia! ' s norted the haem orrhoids . 'I've had a hernia. Not one, but two, m ind, and they were both s trangulated. Double hernia. T wic e the pain. A nd as for the operation, piec e of c ake, it's over in a m inute. Now, you take the operation for haem orrhoids , I c an't begin to des c ribe -' 'W ell don't,' retorted the hernia. T he haem orrhoids c arried on regardles s . 'T hey tied rubber bands around m y haem orrhoids to c ut off the blood s upply but that didn't work. T hen they injec ted 'em and that didn't work, neither. Now I'm having 'em rem oved s urgic ally. T hey put a las er gun up your bac ks ide and zap 'em . Mind you, when it's over you c an kis s your haem orrhoids goodbye.' 'Could we c hange the rec ord?' as ked the hernia loudly. 'Y ou're like a bleeding m edic al dic tionary.' A t this point the em ac iated individual with the pained expres s ion opened his eyes and yawned widely. 'T he S leeping B eauty awakes ,' rem arked the haem orrhoids . 'I jus t nodded off,' he s aid. 'Never m ind, "nodded off",' rem arked the haem orrhoids , 'we thought you'd popped off! ' 'Did I m is s the tea trolley?' 'Y ou look as if you need an undertaker's trolley, s tate you're in, s quire.' 'Do you know,' s aid the hernia s lowly and with m alic e, 'you really are a pain in the ars e.' 'Y ou never did s ay what you was in for,' s aid the haem orrhoids , addres s ing the prone figure next to him . 'No, I didn't,' replied the m an, s itting up. 'W ell, c om e on then, what's your problem ?' 'I'd rather not s ay,' replied the m an in a deeply m ournful tone of voic e. 'Com e on,' urged the haem orrhoids , 'you're am ong friends .' 'It's of a very pers onal nature.' 'V as ec tom y?' 'No.' 'Circ um c is ion?' 'No, nothing like that.' 'Look, you c an't get m uc h m ore pers onal than haem orrhoids or m ore painful.' 'Oh, yes you c an,' replied the m an. 'Oh, yes you c an.' 'For God's s ake tell him ,' s napped the hernia, 'and s hut the bugger up.' 'I've got an anal ulc er,' announc ed the m an without any glos s . T he haem orrhoids s uc ked in his breath nois ily. 'Oooooh,' he groaned. 'Nas ty.' He didn't open his m outh again for the next ten m inutes . During the welc om e period of quiet, I m anaged to get on with s om e work. A fter the c ons ultation with the s pec ialis t, I had expec ted to wait for quite s om e tim e for the operation but a c anc ellation m eant I was c alled into hos pital at s hort notic e, whic h s uited m e fine. T he s ooner the knee was s orted out the better. W hen I had inform ed Harold that I was to go into hos pital for the operation, he had as ked m e, rather tentatively, if it would be at all pos s ible for m e to c hec k the reports I had written over Chris tm as for the 'S pirituality in the Curric ulum ' initiative before they were des patc hed to s c hools . 'If m y m em ory s erves m e c orrec tly,' he had s aid, 'you have a day prior to the s urgery when they c arry out various tes ts - blood pres s ure, c holes terol level, that s ort of thing. It's a tim e to s ettle in, to relax and prepare for the operation. I was jus t wondering if you m ight be able to glanc e through the reports you have written. It m ight take your m ind off the big event.' 'Of c ours e,' I had replied and had arrived at the hos pital with a large red folder with the words 'S T RICT LY CONFIDE NT IA L' and 'T HE INS P E CT ORS ' DIV IS ION' written in bold blac k letters on the c over. It was the papers in the folder that I now began reading. I s oon s ens ed that I was being watc hed and, looking up, found the haem orrhoids s taring intently at m e. 'Y ou're an ins pec tor then?' he rem arked. 'T hat's right,' I replied. 'P olic e?' 'No.' 'T ax?' 'No, not a tax ins pec tor.' 'P ublic health?' 'No.' 'V A T ?' 'No.' 'Com e on, it's not a bloody quiz s how. W hat s ort of ins pec tor are you?' 'I'm not allowed to s ay,' I told him , putting a finger to m y lips . 'W hy not?' 'It's s tric tly c onfidential.' 'Com e on, what s ort of ins pec tor are you?' he pers is ted. 'I really c an't tell you,' I s aid. 'It's m ore than m y job's worth.' 'S uit yours elf,' he s aid peevis hly. T hen addres s ing him s elf, he obs erved, 'Y ou try and be friendly and that's all the thanks you get.' 'A ll right,' I s aid in a hus hed voic e, 'I'll tell you, but you m us t prom is e m e not to breathe a word to anyone in the hos pital.' 'Com e on, then.' 'I c an't s hout it ac ros s the ward,' I s aid. 'It's s tric tly c onfidential.' T he haem orrhoids c lam bered out of bed and, c ons idering his m edic al c ondition, m oved with rem arkable s peed to m y s ide. 'W ell -' I began. A t this point the tea trolley arrived. 'I'll tell you later,' I whis pered. T he tea trolley had barely left the room than the haem orrhoids was at m y s ide again, leaning over the bed, his ear in m y fac e. 'Com e on, then,' he s aid, 's pill the beans . W hat s ort of ins pec tor are you?' 'Y ou really have to keep it to yours elf,' I told him . 'Cours e I will,' he agreed. 'It's very hus h-hus h.' 'A ll right, all right.' A t this point, a nurs e, in a dark blue uniform with pris tine white c ollar and c uffs , entered. 'I'll tell you later,' I whis pered. 'Mr P rout! ' exc laim ed the nurs e. 'W hatever are you doing out of bed? Do you want to end up in here for another week?' T he haem orrhoids s huffled bac k to his bed s heepis hly and c lam bered in. B ut as s oon as the nurs e had departed he was bac k at m y s ide. 'Y ou're like a bleeding s huttlec oc k,' rem arked the hernia. 'B ac kwards and forwards .' 'I'm a hos pital ins pec tor,' I whis pered c ons piratorially in the haem orrhoids ' ear, 'but you m us tn't s ay anything. I wis h to rem ain inc ognito, s ort of under-c over.' 'Hos pital ins pec tor?' s aid the haem orrhoids for all to hear. 'W hat's that when it's at hom e?' 'He ins pec ts hos pitals ,' s aid the hernia. 'W hat do you think it m eans ?' 'B ut you're here for an operation, aren't you?' 'T hat's right,' I s aid. 'S tric tly s peaking, I'm off duty. I do need this operation, of c ours e, and it's only a m inor one, but it will give m e the opportunity of gaining an ins ide pic ture of how the hos pital is perform ing. B ut I am s ure you unders tand that I would rather no one knows m y identity s o c ould we keep things to ours elves .' 'Y ou m ight as well have given him a bleeding m egaphone,' s aid the hernia. 'Y ou s ee,' I c ontinued, keeping a s traight fac e, 'it's a c hanc e to experienc e things at firs t hand, s ee the whole of the proc es s from beginning to end.' 'Get on,' s norted the haem orrhoids , s huffling bac k to his bed. 'Y ou m us t think m y brains are m ade of porridge. Hos pital ins pec tor. Huh.' 'W ell you did as k,' I s aid, returning to the reports . * 'Y ou're c aus ing quite a s tir,' s aid the nurs e later that m orning when s he c am e to take m y blood pres s ure. 'Really?' I replied innoc ently. 'T elling them you're a hos pital ins pec tor indeed.' 'P eople will believe anything, nurs e,' I s aid, s m iling. S he c aught s ight of the red folder on m y beds ide c abinet. 'S o, what s ort of ins pec tor are you then?' s he as ked c as ually. 'I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to s ay, nurs e,' I replied. 'It's s tric tly c onfidential.' A s s he leaned over to attac h the flap of blac k m aterial to m y arm to take m y blood pres s ure, I s c rutinis ed the badge pinned to her bos om . 'S taff Nurs e R. Leac h,' I s aid. 'T hat's right.' 'A rather appropriate nam e for s om eone taking blood pres s ure.' 'P ardon?' 'Leac h, although your nam e is s pelt with an a, is n't it?' S he began to pum p the m ac hine. 'T hat's right.' 'Is that Rowena?' 'P ardon?' 'Y our firs t nam e?' 'Robyn.' 'W ith an i?' 'W ith a y .' 'Lovely nam e. A nd how long have you worked at Fettles ham Royal Infirm ary, Nurs e Leac h?' S he s topped pum ping. 'Y ou do as k a lot of ques tions .' 'It's the nature of m y job.' 'S o what s ort of ins pec tor are you?' s he as ked again. 'I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to s ay,' I replied. 'It's s tric tly c onfidential.' J us t before lunc h, whic h was the highlight of the day for m y three c om panions , Mr Todd, the s urgeon, arrived, ac c om panied by the ward s is ter in a s m art blue uniform c om plete with blac k belt and s ilver buc kle, and a group of m edic al s tudents in white c oats and the obligatory s tethos c opes draped around their nec ks . Mr T odd was a dis tinguis hed-looking m an of about s ixty with s teel grey hair and a s potted bow tie. 'A nd how are we, today, Mr S iddall?' he as ked the hernia.

'W e're not too bad, thank you, Mr T odd,' replied the hernia. 'E xc ellent.' T he s urgeon turned to the s tudents who were watc hing his every m ove. 'Hernia,' he rem arked dis m is s ively, 'very s traightforward c as e, no c om plic ations ,' and he s wiftly m oved on. 'A nd how are you, Mr P rout?' he as ked the haem orrhoids . 'Mus tn't grum ble,' replied the ros y-c heeked c hatterer. 'Chanc e'd be a fine thing,' c om m ented the hernia, not quite under his breath. 'B ut now you as k, Mr T odd -' began the haem orrhoids , s itting upright quic kly and bec om ing very anim ated. 'Haem orrhoids ,' interrupted the s urgeon, turning to his young c olleagues . 'I will s ave you the ordeal of an exam ination. A gain s traightforward. S im ple c as e, no c om plic ations . Have you bac k on your bic yc le in no tim e, Mr P rout.' 'I was about to s ay -' s tarted the haem orrhoids . Mr Todd was now at the bottom of the anal ulc er's bed. T he patient was s leeping peac efully. 'Little point in dis turbing Mr Quayle. A nal ulc er.' He then turned on his heel, looked m e full in the fac e and s m iled rather dis c onc ertingly. 'A nd that brings us to Mr P hinn.' A ll eyes s ettled on m e. 'Mr P hinn, who has a m os t interes ting, not to s ay intriguing, c ondition, the res ult of a rugby ac c ident when he was a youth. Do you play rugby, gentlem en?' he as ked two young m ale s tudents . B efore they c ould res pond he c ontinued. 'If you do, be aware that the injuries c om e bac k to haunt you when you get older.' He m ade m e feel anc ient. 'S c reens pleas e, s is ter,' he s aid. 'I would like thes e would-be m edic s to give m e their c ons idered opinions of Mr P hinn's c ondition.' T he s c reens were has tily pulled around m y bed and all the white c oats gathered round like dogs with a bone. 'It is the ankle, is n't it, Mr P hinn?' obs erved the s urgeon m is c hievous ly. 'No, no,' I s pluttered, 'the knee.' 'A h yes . T he right knee, is n't it?' 'T he left, it's the left knee,' I em phas is ed. 'Quite s o. J us t wanted to be s ure of the fac ts . It's always im portant to be aware of the fac ts . Now, what is all this I have been hearing from Nurs e Leac h about you being a hos pital ins pec tor?' 'I'm a s c hool ins pec tor,' I told him , s m iling pathetic ally like a naughty c hild c aught out by a teac her. 'Y our wife will vouc h for m e. I believe I ins pec ted her earlier this year.' 'Did you, by God?' he exc laim ed, laughing loudly. 'P rofes s ionally s peaking,' I s aid. T hen I added deferentially, 'I know nothing about hos pitals , but I m us t s ay that I'm getting five-s tar treatm ent.' 'I am s o glad to hear it,' s aid Mr T odd, s m iling like Drac ula about to s ink his teeth into a vic tim . 'W e aim to pleas e. Now, let us look at this troubles om e knee of yours .' 'I don't know what's s o s pec ial about a knee,' s aid the haem orrhoids after the s pec ialis t and his entourage had left. I c ould tell by his tone of voic e and his dem eanour that he was none too pleas ed about the attention I had rec eived earlier. 'W e've all got knees . T here's nothing unus ual about knees , but only a c hos en few have haem orrhoids and I've got piles of them . Didn't even exc hange the tim e of day with m e, that Mr T odd. J us t s ailed pas t m e as if -' 'W ill you put a bleeding s oc k in it! ' exc laim ed the hernia. 'I'm s ic k and tired of hearing about your bleeding haem orrhoids .' 'W ell, Ins pec tor Clous eau over there had half the m edic al s taff at the hos pital around his bed: S weeney Todd, the dem on s urgeon of Fleet S treet, S is ter E nem a and all the trainee s awbones . T hat s c reen was pulled round for a good ten m inutes . Laughing away they were. P referential treatm ent, that's what he got. I bet they all knew he was a hos pital ins pec tor.' 'A nd how would they know that?' I as ked. 'I never m entioned it, did I? A nd you didn't, did you?' 'No, no,' s aid the haem orrhoids has tily. 'Never breathed a word.' A t vis iting tim e, Chris tine arrived with an im m ens e bunc h of purple grapes whic h s he plac ed in a bowl on the beds ide c abinet. T he haem orrhoids ' vis itor, a s m all wizened wom an with a world-weary expres s ion, s at glum ly in s ilenc e, lis tening. I c ould hear the key words of his m onologue: 'pain', 'exc ruc iating', 'toilet', 's uffering', 'ac he', 'dis c om fort', 'agony', 'm is ery', 'torm ent'. P oor wom an, I thought. 'S idney phoned earlier this evening to wis h you well for tom orrow,' s aid Chris tine. 'He s aid word is out that the E duc ation Com m ittee is at las t going to announc e the appointm ent of the pers on to replac e Harold.' 'It's about tim e,' I s aid. 'It's dragged on for m onths .' 'Do you think it might be Geraldine?' 'W ell, if it is ,' I replied, 's he wants her head exam ining, that's all I c an s ay. How c an s he bring up J am ie as a s ingle parent and hold that job down?' 'S om e wom en hold down very dem anding jobs ,' s aid Chris tine, 'and bring up a fam ily and m anage very well. Y ou underes tim ate us .' 'W ell, let's not talk about it,' I s aid, 'but I have to s ay at onc e that I hope this is not your way of telling m e that you want to go bac k to work onc e little Lizzie is born. I hope we are s till agreed that you'll give up your job in February. You are not now wanting to take m aternity leave and go bac k to work afterwards , are you?' 'No,' s aid Chris tine. 'I want to watc h our c hild grow up and be there for him ... or her.' 'P hew! T hat's a relief! S o what els e did S idney s ay?' 'He s aid it was a great pity you didn't put in for Harold's job.' S he waited for a res pons e before c ontinuing. 'Y ou're not regretting it now, are you?' 'Not at all. It's a pois oned c halic e,' I s aid. 'I'm m uc h better off as I am .' S he s m iled. 'I'm glad.' 'A nd how are y ou feeling?' I as ked. 'Mother and baby doing fine. No s wollen ankles , no m ad c ravings . It was quiet without you las t night. I'll be glad when you're hom e.' 'Y ou've got the c loc k to keep you c om pany,' I s aid. Chris tine had been over the m oon when s he s aw the long-c as e c loc k on Chris tm as Day in pride of plac e in the s itting room . I had had the devil's own job keeping it a s urpris e - c ollec ting it from Mr Frobis her at J us t Cloc ks , hiding it in Harry Cotton's outbuilding, c reeping out late on Chris tm as E ve after Chris tine had gone to bed to c ollec t it, then trying to put it together and s et the pendulum going without waking her. Of c ours e, I had forgotten about the c him ing. Chris tine s aw her Chris tm as pres ent fifteen s ec onds after m idnight when the c loc k had s truc k the hour. T here was nothing I c ould do to s top its c him ing. Ins tead, I had intens e pleas ure watc hing Chris tine, tous led from s leep, c om e down the s tairs to find out whether the nois e had been in her dream s . S he loved the c loc k on the s pot. A t breakfas t on Chris tm as m orning, when I was telling her the s tory about m y buying the c loc k from Mr Frobis her and how he would be c om ing out in the New Year to m ake final adjus tm ents to it, Chris tine had gazed ac ros s at the c loc k. 'It is s im ply perfec t there,' s he had s aid. 'It looks abs olutely at hom e in that c orner.' T his turned out to be not very s urpris ing. On B oxing Day, Harry Cotton had c om e in for a glas s of s herry with us and, s eeing the c loc k in its c orner, had s uddenly realis ed that it had belonged to old Mrs Ollerans haw, the previous owner of P eewit Cottage. He rec ognis ed the m aker's nam e, P erc y Farrington of Fettles ham , on the c loc k's fac e. It had been s old at Roper's S ales room by Mrs Ollerans haw's nephew, along with the old wom an's other pos s es s ions when s he had died. A t that point, I had rem em bered the provenanc e whic h Mr Frobis her had given m e in an envelope. I fetc hed it from m y des k and it indeed c onfirm ed that the c loc k had returned hom e to where it had previous ly s tood for over a hundred years . 'Oh, the c loc k's lovely,' Chris tine s aid now, 'but I think we are going to have to as k Mr Frobis her to c om e bac k bec aus e jus t after you left for the hos pital it s topped. It was really s trange. I as ked Harry Cotton to have a look but he c ouldn't get it going. I had to laugh. He s aid the las t tim e it had s topped without any reas on was the night before old Mrs Ollerans haw died.' 'T hanks a bundle,' I s aid. 'Let's c hange the s ubjec t. A ny other news ?' 'Indeed there is ! ' replied Chris tine, beam ing. 'I heard jus t before c om ing out to s ee you that they're definitely deferring the c los ure of the s c hool. It does n't m ean that the s c hool won't c los e, of c ours e, but it's really pos itive news . W e'll go on c am paigning and m aybe we'll overturn the dec is ion offic ially.' 'Y ou've done a m agnific ent job,' I told her. 'It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't got involved.' 'W ell, I don't know about that,' s he s aid. 'A nyway, I m us t be off, darling. I've got s o m uc h to do before I leave W innery Nook. Good luc k tom orrow. I'll be s aying a prayer and I'll be thinking of you.' S he gave m e a great big hug and a kis s and left. 'Nic e-looking young wom an, your daughter,' obs erved the haem orrhoids as he watc hed Chris tine leave the ward. 'Is s he expec ting?' 'S he's m y wife ac tually and, yes , s he is .' 'It's a known fac t that wom en s uffer from piles during pregnanc y, you know, when the baby puts pres s ure on the c irc ulatory s ys tem . Has s he had problem s in that direc tion?' 'T hey'll be a bleeding problem in your direc tion in a m inute,' s aid the hernia, s tabbing the air with a finger. 'I'll c om e over there and s ort out them bleeding haem orrhoids for you and s ave the s urgeon a job.' It was five m inutes after vis iting tim e had finis hed when Harold breezed in, c arrying a large bunc h of purple grapes . He was looking very dis tinguis hed in a c harc oal-grey s uit and gleam ing white s hirt with his old c ollege tie. He was als o looking partic ularly pleas ed with him s elf. 'However did you m anage to get pas t the ward s is ter?' I as ked, when he reac hed m y bed. 'I'm told s he's a s tic kler for people keeping to the vis iting hours .' 'Charm , dear boy, c harm ,' s aid Harold, 'and a little help from this .' He tapped the badge on his c hes t whic h s aid in bold blac k lettering: 'Dr Harold J . Yeats '. 'I think the good s is ter as s um ed I was one of the m edic al fraternity and I didn't dis abus e her. You know, having a P hD s om etim es c om es in very us eful.' He put down the fruit. 'Y ou s eem to have a s urfeit of grapes .' T he haem orrhoids , who m us t have had teles c opic vis ion, had c aught s ight of the badge and m ade the s am e as s um ption as the ward s is ter. He s houted ac ros s the room , 'E vening, doc tor.' 'Oh, good evening,' replied Harold, s m iling and s howing his s et of tom bs tone teeth. 'Doing your rounds , are you?' as ked the haem orrhoids . Harold c learly m is unders tood, for he nodded. 'Yes , indeed.' T hen he turned his attention bac k to m e. 'I've s pent the day with Dr Gore and the pers on who will take over from m e in A pril, and I now have the go-ahead to releas e the nam e of the new S enior Ins pec tor. I've jus t c om e from telling your c olleagues but I wanted you to know as s oon as pos s ible who we've appointed.' 'Y es , I heard the news was im m inent, and am on tenterhooks to know,' I s aid. 'W ell, I think you will be s om ewhat s urpris ed but, I hope, extrem ely pleas ed when you hear whom we've appointed.' 'W hen you've got a m om ent, doc tor,' s houted the haem orrhoids , 'c ould you pop over? I'd like to have a word.' 'Y es , of c ours e,' s aid Harold. 'Now, Gervas e -' 'It's jus t that I'd like to dis c us s one or two things with you,' c ontinued the haem orrhoids . 'Ignore him , Harold,' I s aid. 'He's a pain in the... the bac ks ide. S o who is he?' 'I'm s orry?' 'T he new S enior Ins pec tor, who is he? W hat's he like?' 'S he,' replied Harold. 'It's a s he.' 'A s he?' I repeated. 'T hat's right,' s aid Harold, s m iling widely and s howing his s et of great tom bs tone teeth. 'It's not Geraldine, is it?' 'No, no, not Geraldine,' replied Harold. 'S he has n't quite got the experienc e. Geraldine m ight m ake a S enior Ins pec tor in the not too dis tant future, but s he told m e bac k in the autum n that s he was n't planning to apply bec aus e s he puts young J am ie before her job - and quite right too.' 'W ho is it, then, Harold?' I urged. 'Mis s de la Mare.' 'W hat?!' I c ried. 'W inifred de la Mare.' 'B ut s he's an HMI,' I s pluttered. 'Y es , I know.' 'W hy on earth would s he want the job?' 'S he's bec om e wearied with the hec tic life in London,' Harold told m e. 'A ll the paper pus hing, bureauc rac y, c ons tant new initiatives , travelling on the T ube every m orning and evening has taken its toll. S he's ready for a different s ort of c hallenge. Of c ours e, Dr Gore was very keen to appoint her. None of the other c andidates c ould hold a c andle to a s enior HMI. However, as you know, s he's a forc eful c harac ter and, before ac c epting the pos ition, there were c ertain c onditions s he wanted the E duc ation Com m ittee to agree to, inc luding that it would s upport c ertain innovations s he would wis h to put in plac e.' 'B ut why has it taken s o long, Harold?' I as ked. 'A h well, as s oon as the m andarins at the Minis try of E duc ation got wind of her pos s ible m ove, they exerted c ons iderable pres s ure for her to s tay. It was agreed that s he c ould have Chris tm as to think things over. S o, s he gets to live in Yorks hire, whic h c an't be bad, and has the opportunity of leading a team of c olleagues whom s he genuinely likes and res pec ts . I think s he'll be exc ellent.' 'T hat's wonderful,' I s aid. I s hook Harold's hand enthus ias tic ally. 'W onderful! ' 'Good news , is it?' c am e the voic e of the haem orrhoids . 'He does n't have to have the leg off then?' 'No,' s aid Harold over his s houlder. 'S o,' he s aid to m e, 'things have worked out pretty well. David and Geraldine are, of c ours e, delighted and S idney m ade s om e typic al c om m ent about "well, the devil you know". I feel I s hall be leaving the departm ent in very good hands . S he's jus t right for the job and has m as s es of experienc e.' 'A nd Chris tine tells m e the E duc ation S ub-Com m ittee is holding fire with the Hawks rill S c hool c los ure.' 'T hat's right,' s aid Harold, 'and I have a feeling nothing will happen in that direc tion for quite s om e tim e now. Counc illor P eters on has jus t about thrown in the towel, by all ac c ounts . He was unus ually quiet at the las t m eeting and, thank goodnes s for s m all m erc ies , was n't at the appointm ent for m y replac em ent. P res s ure of work, I was told. Now, I m us t let you get s om e res t. I prom is ed the ward s is ter five m inutes and no m ore. S he'll be having m y guts for garters if I s tay any longer. Oh, did you m anage to finis h reading through the reports ?' 'Y es , they're here,' I s aid, reac hing into m y beds ide c abinet. 'S plendid. I'll take them with m e. W ell, Gervas e, good luc k for tom orrow. A nd don't think of c om ing bac k to work until you are fully fit again.' 'T hanks for c alling in, Harold. I c an't tell you how pleas ed I am with the appointm ent. Oh, and thanks for the grapes .' A s Harold m ade for the door he was verbally waylaid by the haem orrhoids . 'If I c ould have a word, doc tor,' he s aid. 'W ell, I am in a bit of a hurry,' Harold told him pleas antly. 'I thought you m ight want a quic k look at m y haem orrhoids .' 'P ardon?' gas ped Harold. 'T o have a look at m y haem orrhoids .' 'No, no! ' s pluttered Harold. 'T hank you kindly for the offer but I really m us t dec line.' W ith that he s hot out of the door. 'W ell, what about that! ' c ried the haem orrhoids , addres s ing no one in partic ular. 'Not s o m uc h as a glanc e at m y c ondition. He s hot out of that door like a rat up a drainpipe.' He looked ac ros s at m e angrily. 'T hey'll be laying a red c arpet down to the operating theatre for you. You m ark m y words , you'll be in your own pers onal private room tom orrow with c oloured telly and J ac uzzi. W ell, I'm c om plaining. It's not right, hos pital ins pec tors getting preferential treatm ent.' I held up the big bunc h of purple grapes and s m iled s weetly. 'W ould you c are for a grape?' I as ked. * T he following m orning, the anaes thetis t arrived at s even-thirty prom pt to give m e an injec tion. A s I was wheeled out of the ward, feeling pleas antly drows y, the haem orrhoids got his own bac k, breaking into a loud and c heerful rendering of 'Y ou May Never W alk T his W ay A gain'.

21 'I'm looking for a m an! ' I rec ognis ed im m ediately the aris toc ratic tones of the Honourable Mrs Cleaver-Canning at the end of the line. T he previous year I had rec eived a telephone c all from the s aid 'honourable' lady inviting m e, on the s trength of a friend's rec om m endation, to s peak at the Totterdale and Clearwell Golf Club Chris tm as Ladies ' Night Dinner. Firs t, however, s he had wanted to m eet m e - to look m e over. S o I had duly pres ented m ys elf at the im pos ing Georgian res idenc e in P rinc e Regent Row, Fettles ham , to be V etted'. T he elderly s tooped figure with wis ps of s andy hair and an extravagant handlebar m ous tac he who ans wered the door, I had taken to be an old fam ily retainer. It turned out that the m an in ques tion was Mrs Cleaver-Canning's long-s uffering hus band. E veryone c alled him W inc o. Muc h to m y relief, m y talk about m y experienc es as a s c hool ins pec tor was well rec eived. T he audienc e, no doubt buoyed up by good food and wine, had been extrem ely warm and rec eptive and I had left with a generous c heque to s well S is ter B rendan's c harity appeal. Now, here was Mrs Cleaver-Canning on the telephone again, no doubt wanting m e to do a repeat perform anc e s om ewhere or other. 'Good m orning, Mrs Cleaver-Canning,' I s aid brightly. 'A nd how are you?' 'I'm extrem ely well, thank you, Mr P hinn,' s he replied, 'but I am des perate for a m an.' 'Really?' 'A nd you fit the bill. Y ou are exac tly what I am looking for.' 'I am c ertainly flattered,' I told her, 'but what about W inc o?' 'Oh, you are a one,' s he c hortled down the line. 'No, no, I want a m an for our m us ic al dram a. You m ay be aware that I am a leading light in the Fettles ham Literary P layers and next m onth we will be s taging The S ound of M us ic at the Civic T heatre in town. Unfortunately, one of the c as t, Mr Dutton of "Dutton's Carpets of Dis tinc tion" - you probably know his em porium in the High S treet - has dropped out. Literally, as a m atter of fac t. T he poor m an fell off the s tage at Cas tles nelling High S c hool where we hold our rehears als , and is in trac tion at the Royal Infirm ary. He tripped over a s ign whic h warned of projec ting s tage s ets and jus t dropped off the s tage like a s ac k of potatoes . Y ou m ay have heard the theatric al expres s ion "break a leg". W ell, Mr Dutton ac tually did. S o, how about it?' 'How about what?' I as ked. 'S tanding in for him .' 'Y ou m ean take his part?' 'If you would. W e only have s ix weeks to go and, as I s aid, I'm des perate.' 'I fear not,' I s aid has tily. 'I'm s o very bus y at the m om ent, Mrs Cleaver-Canning, and I've not long been out of hos pital m ys elf. I really c ouldn't c om m it m ys elf to -' 'Hos pital? Oh dear, I trus t it was n't s erious ?' 'No, no, a m inor operation on the knee.' 'I'm very pleas ed to hear it. W ell, the exerc is e will do it good. It's only a s m all walk-on part.' 'Nevertheles s -' 'Y ou would c om e on s tage in the las t ac t, s ay a c ouple of lines and walk off. Y ou would only need to attend a few rehears als , and on the nights of the perform anc e you would not be needed until 8.30 at the earlies t.' 'Y es , I apprec iate that, but -' 'A s I m entioned, I don't think you have got above two or three lines . It's the part of the S S Lieutenant who is purs uing Captain von T rapp. He only appears at the very end when the fam ily are m aking their es c ape ac ros s the m ountains . T here's no s inging or danc ing involved. It really wouldn't be at all onerous .' 'I am flattered to be as ked, Mrs Cleaver-Canning,' I began, 'but -' 'A fter your bravura perform anc e at T he Totterdale and Clearwell Chris tm as Ladies ' Night Dinner, I think you would be ideal. Clear, s trong voic e, exc ellent tim ing, c onfidenc e and that air of authority. A s I s aid to Raym ond, our produc er, you would be jus t perfec t for the part.' A s an S S offic er, I thought, s m iling to m ys elf. I as s um ed s he m eant her c om m ents about m e to be c om plim entary. 'W e are really des perate,' s he c ontinued. 'It's s o hard to get m en thes e days . A ll I as k is that you glanc e through the libretto before you give a definite thum bs down. W ill you do that?' 'W ell -' 'E xc ellent! W inc o will pop it in the pos t today.' W ith that the line went dead. 'W hy do you let yours elf be dragged into things ?' Chris tine appeared not at all pleas ed when I related the c onvers ation I had had with Mrs Cleaver-Canning. W e were s itting having a c offee after dinner that evening. 'Y ou are jus t out of hos pital, you have work to c atc h up on in the offic e, there are things to do in the hous e and you get dragooned into being in a play. I s hould have thought that you had quite enough on your plate at the m om ent.' 'I haven't ac tually agreed,' 1 s aid feebly. 'Y ou've as good as . W hy didn't you jus t s ay no and put the phone down. I rec kon you've got enough am ateur dram atic s at the ins pec tors ' offic e with S idney and David without looking for any m ore.' 'S he's a very pers uas ive wom an,' I began. 'A nd I'm not?' 'Of c ours e you are, but s he jus t wouldn't let m e get a word in. E very tim e I m ade an objec tion, s he had an ans wer. A nyway, it's only a few lines , not a m ajor role. It m ight be quite fun.' 'A nd what about the rehears als ?' 'S he s aid I only have to attend a few and appear on the nights of the perform anc e, of c ours e. I s im ply need to arrive for m y bit at the end of the play. I walk on, s ay a c ouple of lines and walk off.' 'Y ou really are infuriating at tim es , Gervas e P hinn,' s he s aid good-hum ouredly. 'Y ou take all thes e things on without a thought for the c om m itm ent. Haven't you forgotten what's happening in Marc h, whic h is next m onth, for heaven's s ake?' 'Of c ours e not, but the baby is n't due until the end of the m onth.' 'S uppos e it c om es early while you are goos e-s tepping ac ros s the s tage with the Fettles ham Literary P layers , s inging "E delweis s " and c lim bing up m ountains .' 'I c ouldn't be goos e-s tepping and c lim bing up m ountains at the s am e tim e, c ould I, and c ertainly not with this knee. A nyway, as I told you, I don't have any s inging or danc ing. It's jus t a walk-on part.' 'Y ou'll get this c offee over your head in a m inute.' 'A nyway, if little Lizzie does arrive early, I'll jus t have to goos e-s tep it down to the hos pital. T he Civic T heatre is n't that far. I c ould be there in ten m inutes . Look, Chris tine, if you are dead s et agains t it, I'll tell her I won't do it. I really don't want to argue with you about it.' Chris tine put down her c offee, leaned over to m e, s m iled and gave m e a pec k on the c heek. 'Neither do I. A c tually, you m ight look rather dis hy in the uniform .' T he letter from Mrs Cleaver-Canning, whic h ac c om panied the libretto of The S ound of M us ic , arrived through the letterbox that weekend. It was c lear from her c om m ents that s he as s um ed I had already agreed to take on the part and had s ent a lis t of rehears al dates with the ones I needed to attend - the firs t being the following T ues day. I pas s ed the letter over the breakfas t table to Chris tine. 'W hat did I s ay,' s he s aid, s haking her head. On the next T ues day, I m ade m y way through the m ain s c hool entranc e of Cas tles nelling High S c hool at the pres c ribed tim e. I was greeted (hardly the right word) by the c aretaker, an extrem ely thin m an with a baleful c ountenanc e. He was attired in grey overalls , s ported a rather greas y flat c ap and was ac c om panied by a fat, vic ious looking dog. A s I approac hed, he jangled an enorm ous s et of keys nois ily. 'I'm looking for the -' I began. 'T hey're in the hall,' he s aid in a voic e as dry as s awdus t. 'A nd watc h the floor on the c orridor. I've jus t buffed it.' P erhaps he had trained at the s am e College for W ould-be Caretakers as Connie, I m us ed. In the hall, a group of people was s tanding jus t below the s tage, one s m all m an waving his hands around and talking exc itedly. W hen I reac hed the gathering, I c oughed quietly. T he s m all m an - who wore a pair of extrem ely tight jeans and a T -s hirt em blazoned on the bac k with the m otif 'W rinkled W as Not One of the T hings I W anted to be W hen I Grew Up! ' s pun round. 'A h, and you m us t be Gervas e P hinn! ' I nodded. 'W elc om e, welc om e! ' he c ried, gras ping m y hand and s haking it vigorous ly. 'I'm Raym ond, but everyone c alls m e Ray. I'm your original drop of golden s un.' 'I'm s orry?' I s aid. 'Y ou know,' he replied, breaking into s ong: "Doe a deer, a fem ale deer. Ray a drop of golden s un." ' 'A h, indeed.' I s m iled weakly. 'Oh ye-es ! ' s aid Ray, s c rutinis ing m e as an art expert m ight an old m as ter. 'I c an jus t s ee you in blac k boots . You're ideal. Margot does have a knac k of pic king the right people. S he s aid you'd be perfec t and s he was right. I feel s ure you'll be a natural for the part. A nd I don't expec t you'll need m uc h direc tion s inc e I s uppos e that being a s c hool ins pec tor is not that far rem oved from that of an S S offic er, is it?' He s wung bac k to the group of people waiting patiently. 'T his is our little troupe of thes pians . A s per us ual, we have a s urfeit of nuns , an abundanc e of c hildren wanting to play the parts of the little von T rapps but we are, like all am ateur dram atic produc tions thes e days , bereft of young m en.' He s m iled and took m y arm . 'Do you know, I s pend s o m uc h tim e looking for young m en,' he added. 'Really?' I s aid. 'A nd this ,' announc ed Ray with a dram atic flouris h of his hands , 'is our replac em ent s torm trooper, Gervas e.' T here was a ripple of applaus e. 'Not the m os t c onvinc ing nam e for a s torm trooper, is it?' obs erved a large bearded individual s itting on the s tage. 'B ernard, really! ' s aid Ray before turning to m e and taking m y arm . 'You'll get to know us all in the c ours e of the evening, Gervas e, s o I will dis pens e with introduc tions . J us t take a pew and I'll let you know when I want you on s tage. Now, let us m ake a s tart, s o a bit of hus h everyone. I want to go through the s c ene with Lies l and Rolf again. It's s till not quite right.' I watc hed Lies l and Rolf going though their pac es with a s inking feeling in the pit of m y s tom ac h. W hy on earth had I let m ys elf be pres s -ganged into this ? I as ked m ys elf. I rec ognis ed the wom an playing the part of Lies l, Captain von T rapp's eldes t c hild. S he was the Head of Food Tec hnology at the s c hool in whos e hall we were rehears ing. S he was an extrem ely thin and intens e-looking wom an with large s taring eyes and long s traggly hair. I had las t s een her trip the boards two years before in Cas tles nelling High S c hool's produc tion of Oliv er! when s he had played the part of Nanc y and had had a rather unfortunate c onfrontation with the fears om e dog playing B ulls eye. Now, here s he was , taking on an entirely different role as the teenage von T rapp. 'Look, darling,' Ray told her now, 'it s ays in the libretto that Lies l in this s c ene is "awkward, naive and generally unknowing in the ways of s ophis tic ation". Do you think we c ould have a bit m ore of the innoc enc e and naivety. Im agine you are one of the girls you teac h.' 'I think the las t words to c om e to m ind when I think of the girls I teac h are "innoc enc e" and "naivety",' s aid the Head of Food T ec hnology, rais ing her eyebrows . 'J udging by the c onvers ations I hear in the c ookery room , m os t of them c ould tell us all a thing or two.' 'W ell, jus t try, darling, to be m ore unworldly,' s aid Ray. 'A nd Rolf, you are s uppos ed to be c om pletely bowled over by this beautiful young wom an in the firs t bloom of her youth. Could you look a little m ore enam oured with Lies l. Y ou look as if you have ac ute c ons tipation.' I took a s eat next to an elderly m an in a blac k s uit. 'I'm Zeller,' he told m e, without talking his eyes off the s tage. 'I'm Gervas e,' I replied. 'No, no! I'm Zeller in the play. Herr Zeller, the Gauleiter. I c om e to arres t Captain von T rapp. I'm really George Furnival of Furnival's Funeral P arlour in Collington. W e've been es tablis hed s inc e 1887.' He rootled in his poc ket and produc ed a blac k-edged c ard whic h he thrus t into m y hand. 'Here, in c as e there's a death in the fam ily. Y ou'll find us very dis c reet and res pec tful.' 'T hank you.' 'I s upplied the c offins for the s c hool's produc tion of Oliv er! the other year, you know,' he c ontinued. 'T here were quite a few favourable c om m ents about them .' T he m an was tailor-m ade for the part of a Ges tapo offic ial: long des pondent fac e, s hort blac k hair parted down the m iddle, c old eyes as grey as the autum n s ky and a vulpine m outh. His voic e was wonderfully whis pery and unnerving. I c ould jus t im agine him turning up at two o'c loc k in the m orning in a long blac k leather c oat. 'I don't know why I agreed to do this ,' he s aid. 'Neither do I,' I agreed. 'I s uppos e it's good for bus ines s ,' he told m e. 'Good for bus ines s ?' I repeated. 'A ye, getting your fac e known in the c om m unity, networking, m aking c ontac ts , c hanc e to prom ote your bus ines s . P ity there are no c offins in this produc tion. I did s ugges t to Raym ond that perhaps one of the nuns c ould c op it and I c ould provide a c offin or m aybe have the las t s c ene in a c rypt, but he's not one to be open to s ugges tions . T hes e artis tic types are very unpredic table. I had a tidy little ac knowledgem ent about m y c offins in the program m e when they did Oliv er! He paus ed and looked round at m e. 'W e very nearly had a fatality, you know. Old Mr Dutton of "Dutton's Carpets of Dis tinc tion", him who had your part, fell off the s tage and broke a leg. Could have broken his nec k. Y es , it c ould have been very nas ty.' He s ounded alm os t dis appointed. T he Head of Food T ec hnology had now launc hed into s ong with: 'I am s ixteen going on s eventeen, innoc ent as a ros e -' 'More like thirty going on forty, if you as k m e,' c om m ented Mr Furnival. 'Mind you, with a bit of s tage m ake-up, a long blonde wig and s ubdued s tage lights s he s hould be all right. It's am azing what a bit of m ake-up c an do. I do a lot of em balm ing, you know. It's quite an art form .' It s oon c am e to what Ray des c ribed as 'Gervas e's little s pot'. I s ounded like the ac ne of the produc tion. 'W atc h your s tep,' warned Mr Furnival, as I went forward to c lim b the s teps to the s tage. 'W e don't want another pers on breaking a leg.' 'Now,' s aid the produc er, 'this is the dram atic c lim ax of the dram a. W e are in the garden of Nonnberg A bbey. A gaggle of nuns is s tanding anxious ly by the door.' Ray paus ed in his narration. 'I'm not s ure what the c ollec tive noun is for nuns . A nyway, the nuns are s tanding anxious ly by the door. Could we look anxious , pleas e, nuns ? Y ou're not waiting for a num ber 9 bus . T he von T rapps enter nervous ly, c lutc hing their c as es . T hey hear a nois e and hide in the s hadows . Do try and look as if you're frightened, von T rapps . Clus ter, don't queue. Rolf enters . Gone are his lederhos en and T yrolean hat. He is now dres s ed in S S uniform . He s waggers onto the s tage. T he light from his torc h s weeps before him . It pic ks out Maria. S he gas ps . T hen it lights up the Captain. He s c owls . Don't overdo the s c owl, pleas e, B ernard. T he Captain walks towards Rolf. Rolf flas hes . Flas h, pleas e, Rolf. Now draw your pis tol. J us t us e your fingers for the tim e being, pleas e, Fras er. He c alls : "Lieutenant! " T hen he s ees Lies l. S he looks appealingly at him . W e hear the lieutenant's foots teps approac hing. Rolf c lic ks off the light. T he s ound draws nearer and nearer. T he lieutenant s truts onto the s tage. T his is you, Gervas e.' I lim ped onto the s tage. 'He looks around arrogantly,' c ontinued the produc er. 'He s hould have with him two or three s torm troopers ,' Ray explained, 'but we haven't got enough m en for the s torm troopers and, anyway, we c an't afford to hire all thos e uniform s , s o it'll jus t have to be you, Gervas e, looking nas ty and threatening.' His voic e bec am e s uddenly dram atic again. 'T hen Rolf c hanges his m ind and dec ides not to betray the von T rapps after all. He c alls : "No one out here, s ir! " "A ll right! " s narls the lieutenant. "Com e along."' W e tried the s c ene a c ouple of tim es and Ray s eem ed well s atis fied. 'Oh, I c ould feel the tens ion,' he s aid. 'My heart was in m y m outh. However, Gervas e, I'm not s o s ure that that lim p quite works . I was wanting m ore of a braggadoc io.' 'B raga-what-o?' I as ked, quite perplexed. 'A s trut. Can you s trut or s wagger, onto the s tage?' 'Diffic ult, really. I've jus t had a knee operation,' I told him . 'It's a real lim p, I'm afraid.' 'Oh well, we'll have to keep the lim p in then.' 'B ut I have a lim p! ' c alled Mr Furnival, who had been watc hing proc eedings intently. 'T here c an't be two of us with lim ps .' 'No, you are quite right, George,' s aid Ray. 'Dis pens e with yours .' 'Dis pens e with m ine! ' he retorted. 'I've taken ages perfec ting that lim p.' 'Y es , I know,' s ighed Ray, 'but yours is an artific ial lim p, Gervas e's is a real one.' A t nine o'c loc k prom pt the c aretaker arrived. 'Let's be having you,' he bellowed from the bac k of the hall, 'I want to loc k up.' 'Right, everyone,' announc ed Ray. 'Let's c all it a day. Next T ues day, pleas e, for thos e in the ball s c ene.' 'A nd s tac k the c hairs before you leave! ' s houted the c aretaker. 'S tac king c hairs ,' retorted Ray. 'A nd put your litter in the bins . T here were plas tic c ups all over m y floor las t week.' 'P ic king up litter,' Ray trilled bac k, retrieving a c ris p pac ket from the floor. 'A nd s om ebody's been tam pering with the elec tric s bac k s tage s o whoever it is , c an s top it.' 'A nd no tam pering with the c aretaker's elec tric s bac k s tage,' s aid the produc er, giving the s tic klike fellow an im m ens e s m ile. 'Is that everything c overed?' he as ked. 'I'm s ure there'll be other things ,' grum bled the c aretaker. 'T here always are.' 'Oh, I'm c ertain of it,' replied the produc er. It oc c urred to m e, as I obs erved the c aretaker s tom ping around the hall, that there was s om eone infinitely m ore s uitable than I to take on the role of the S S s torm trooper. It was c lear no one was going to argue with this m an, es pec ially s inc e he was ac c om panied by the fat brute of a dog with a body like a barrel and c old, grey eyes . I had im m ediately rec ognis ed the c reature when I had s et eyes on it in the s c hool entranc e. It had been B ill S ikes 's dog, B ulls eye, in the produc tion of Oliv er! but had ended up terrorizing Nanc y, alias the Head of Food Tec hnology, and I notic ed that the wom an was now giving the dog a wide berth as s he edged for the door. 'A re you the new rec ruit then?' as ked the c aretaker, jangling his keys nois ily, as he followed m e to the exit. T he dog followed behind us , rum bling like a dis tant train. 'Y es , I am .' 'W ell, I hope you know what you're letting yours elf in for.' 'It's only a s m all part,' I told him . 'It is this year, m ate,' he s aid, 'but you'll be the leading m an in the next produc tion, you m ark m y words . T hey s uc k you in. T hat's what they do. T hat big wom an, the fat nun with the plum m y ac c ent, takes no pris oners . S he won't take no for an ans wer. Nobody argues with her. I don't know what s he s aid to the Headm as ter but s he got round him to let them rehears e here in the s c hool hall. A nd no one bothered to as k m e, and it's all extra work for m e, you know - keeping the heating on, c leaning up afterwards , s topping late to loc k up.' A t that m om ent the wom an we had been dis c us s ing c ould be heard c om ing down the c orridor behind us , s inging a s natc h of 'Clim b E very Mountain'. 'Hold up,' s aid the c aretaker, 'here s he c om es .' His dog s topped, turned, c urled a lip, s howed an im pres s ive s et of s harp teeth and m oved towards her, growling m enac ingly. 'S hut up, you s illy c reature! ' ordered Mrs Cleaver-Canning. T he dog s tuc k its tail between its legs and lowered its head. It had m et its m atc h. 'Y ou were exc ellent, Gervas e,' s aid Mrs C-C as s he s ailed pas t. 'I think you're in for a m uc h bigger role in the next produc tion.' 'S ee what I m ean,' s aid the c aretaker, tapping the s ide of his nos e. 'How did it go?' as ked Chris tine when I lim ped through the door of P eewit Cottage later that evening. 'Fine. I only need to attend a c ouple m ore tim es and the dres s rehears al, of c ours e. I told you it wouldn't involve m uc h.' I flopped into the neares t c hair.

'If you had m et the produc er, Chris tine,' I told her, 'you would s ee why he would be the las t pers on to play the part of a nas ty S S offic er.' 'T oo nic e?' 'Far too nic e.' 'I'll put the kettle on,' Chris tine s aid. 'I'm s ure you c ould do with a c up of tea after all that goos e-s tepping. Y ou c an have a piec e of c ake as well.' 'Oh, you've been baking?' Chris tine c alled from the kitc hen. 'No, Mrs P os kitt c alled round with it. Y ou s hould try a piec e of her s ponge c ake. It's delic ious - "as light as a nun's kis s " as m y father would s ay.' 'T hat depends on the nun,' I m uttered to m ys elf, thinking of Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'W hat did Mrs P os kitt want? I hope it was n't to give us one of her kittens .' 'S he's invited m e to the next W I m eeting.' 'Y ou are not thinking of joining the W om en's Ins titute, are you?' 'W hy not? It s ounds good fun. W hen I give up work, I don't intend s itting around all day by m ys elf, knitting, with no one to talk to. I know I've got the garden at the front to s ort out and s om e dec orating and I need to put up s om e s helves in the nurs ery and -' 'Not in your c ondition, you're not,' I told her. 'Digging and ham m ering and c lim bing up ladders -' 'I'm joking,' s he s aid. 'B ut I do want to keep oc c upied.' 'I s hould think that s c hool c los ure group you're involved with will take up m os t of your tim e.' 'A ah, that is where you are wrong,' s he s aid. 'Y ou've had a phone c all.' 'Go on.' 'From Harold. He had jus t c om e out of one of his late m eetings about the s c hool c los ures and he rang here s traightaway. He wanted us to be the firs t to know. He s aid he would ring you bac k. I don't s uppos e he s hould have told m e, but he was s o pleas ed with him s elf.' 'W ell, go on,' I s aid. 'Don't keep it to yours elf.' 'T he m eeting was for the E duc ation S ub-Com m ittee to c ons ider the res pons e from the Minis try of E duc ation about the s c hool c los ures . Y ou will never gues s . T hey've revers ed the dec is ion to c los e Haws krill S c hool.' 'W hat?' 'Is n't it fantas tic ! E vidently the Minis try, whic h has to m ake the final dec is ion, has bloc ked it. It's m arvellous news .' S he put her arm s around m e. 'S o you s ee, all our little efforts on the A c tion Com m ittee have paid off. I'll get the tea.' I didn't s ay anything to Chris tine, but I thought to m ys elf that there was far m ore here than a pres s ure group's efforts . I jus t wondered if our S enior Ins pec tor des ignate had a hand in the dec is ion. Mis s de la Mare had been the HMI s ent from London to look into the m atter and report bac k. Did s he delay her ac c eptanc e of the pos t until s he had s een this through? I wondered. Chris tine interrupted m y thoughts . 'He s aid he'd phone bac k about ten.' 'W ho?' 'Harold.' A t that very m om ent the telephone rang 'T hat'll be him now.' 'Hello, Harold -' I began. 'B eg pardon?' c am e an A m eric an voic e down the line. 'Oh, I am s orry,' I s aid. 'I was expec ting another c all.' 'Is this an inc onvenient tim e?' 'No no, go ahead.' 'Is that Mr Gervas e P hinn?' 'It is .' 'T he owner of P eewit Cottage?' 'T hat's right.' 'I'm truly s orry to dis turb you s o late, Mr P hinn,' s aid the m an, 'but your lady s ec retary at the offic e in Fettles ham did s ay I m ight phone you at hom e, bearing in m ind the nature of m y bus ines s . I do hope it's not inc onvenient.' 'No, it's fine,' I told him . 'Y ou're a s erious ly bus y guy, from what your s ec retary s aid. Let m e introduc e m ys elf. My nam e is B rews ter - J ohn K . B rews ter - and I'm with the US delegation of T he S oc iety of Friends .' 'Quakers ?' 'T hat is c orrec t. I and a group of c olleagues are over for the International Convention at Y ork. I wanted to get in touc h s traight away, to tell you the good news -' 'I'm s orry, Mr er, B rews ter,' I interrupted, 'but I am pretty c ertain in m y own beliefs and -' 'No, no, I'm not pros elytis ing.' 'W ell, how m ay I help you?' I as ked. 'T he thing is ,' he s aid, 'm y c olleague, Dr J am es L. B radford of the Univers ity of Irvine, California, Departm ent of Com parative T heology and Chris tology, c am e out to your village of Haws krill a c ouple of years bac k to vis it the Quaker m eeting hous e whic h I unders tand is on your land.' My heart s ank. 'T he m eeting hous e?' I m urm ured. 'T hat is c orrec t, the unique eighteenth-c entury m eeting hous e whic h is on your land. J us t a s hell, I believe, but of s uc h great his toric al s ignific anc e, partic ularly for we Quakers . J am es Fox him s elf preac hed there, but I am s ure you know that. I unders tand the delightful old lady who owned the land prior to you was s o very kind and allowed m y c olleague, Dr J am es L. B radford, and s om e friends to vis it the s ite. I am told it was quite a m oving event. T he elderly lady did not have the financ ial res ourc es to res tore the building but it always had a s pec ial plac e in her heart, as I'm s ure it does for you. To have s om ething s o s teeped in his tory is truly, truly awe-ins piring. W hen he returned to the S tates , Dr J am es L. B radford was quite fired up and s ugges ted we try to res tore the building.' 'Res tore it?' I whis pered. 'Re-build it. Now, I want to m ake a propos ition. W e are prepared, m y A m eric an Quaker c olleagues and I, to res tore the vitally im portant and unique m eeting hous e to its form er glory. W e s hall c over all c os ts . Now, what do you think of that, s ir?' I was s tuc k for words . How c ould I tell him the vitally im portant and unique eighteenth-c entury Quaker m eeting hous e was now a lowly wall. 'I'm s peec hles s ,' I m anaged to s ay. 'I gues s this news m us t have c om e as quite a s urpris e to you?' 'T hat's an unders tatem ent,' I replied under m y breath. 'Look, it's late and I c an tell from the s ound of your voic e, you're tired and a bit em otional. W ith your perm is s ion, I'll ring bac k later in the week and m aybe arrange for m e and m y c olleagues to c om e over next weekend to dis c us s the rebuilding plans . I have an appointm ent with a Mr J . P erkins of the County A rc hitec ts ' Departm ent in Fettles ham tom orrow m orning. I unders tand there's all s orts of planning perm is s ion, lis ted building regulations , that s ort of thing to s ort out. I'm s o exc ited,' he s aid, 'and I gues s you are too! God bles s you, and goodnight.' B efore I c ould reply, the phone went dead. 'I need a whis ky, a very large one,' I told a bem us ed Chris tine.

22 Mrs S avage s at s tiffly behind her im pres s ive des k, enthroned in her large s wivel c hair, looking haughtier than ever. T his was , I s inc erely hoped, the final m eeting with her to go over the details for the forthc om ing vis it of the foreign s c hool ins pec tors . S inc e Oc tober I had m et with her twic e to dis c us s the Minis try of E duc ation initiative and both tim es s he had s ent m e away with a thic k dos s ier of papers 'to perus e'. T he CE O's pers onal as s is tant was dres s ed in an elegant c hartreus e-c oloured s uit and plain c ream s ilk blous e and was adorned in her us ual as s ortm ent of heavy s ilver jewellery. A s S idney often rem arked, Mrs S avage was never knowingly underdres s ed and that m orning s he had really gone to town. Her m ake-up appeared flawles s , her long nails , as red as blood, were im pec c ably m anic ured and not a hair on her head was out of plac e. S he had adopted the E va P eron s tyle, with hair s c raped bac k and gathered im m ac ulately behind her head. I had to adm it s he looked quite m agnific ent. 'Good m orning, Mr P hinn,' s aid Mrs S avage, looking up from the papers before her and giving m e a s m all forc ed s m ile. 'Do take a s eat.' 'Good m orning, Mrs S avage,' I replied, s itting on the hard wooden c hair in front of her and plac ing m y briefc as e on the floor bes ide m e. 'I s ee your buzzer is working all right now.' 'I beg your pardon?' T here was an explos ive look in her eyes . 'T he buzzer on your door. T here was a point when all your little lights lit up.' T he s m all forc ed s m ile dis appeared. 'It is working perfec tly well, thank you, and it has been for s om e tim e. You m ight rec all you as ked m e about the buzzer the las t tim e we had a m eeting in m y room . Now, s hall we m ake a s tart? I have a briefing with Dr Gore later this m orning, s o we do need to knoc k on. T he CE O wants to touc h bas e and go through a few item s with m e regarding the new S enior Ins pec tor.' S he fluttered an eyelid. I knew, of c ours e, that it wouldn't be long before s he m entioned the S enior Ins pec tor's pos t. 'Y ou are, of c ours e, ac quainted with Mis s de la Mare.' 'Y es ,' I replied s im ply. 'It's about tim e they had m ore wom en in s enior pos itions in the A uthority,' s he obs erved, s huffling the papers on her des k. 'Y es .' 'I have to prepare a detailed dos s ier for Mis s de la Mare to ac quaint her with the workings of the departm ent.' 'Y ou have s uc h a big rem it, Mrs S avage,' I rem arked, taking s om e papers from m y briefc as e. 'I beg your pardon, Mr P hinn?' s he s aid s ourly. 'I was obs erving that you s eem to have m ore and m ore res pons ibilities thrus t upon your s houlders thes e days . P ers onnel is s ues , s ec retarial duties , the "Health and S afety" initiative, the E IE I. It's a wonder you have the tim e to fit everything in.' 'Oh,' s he s aid, oblivious of the s arc as m , 'I s ee what you m ean. Y es , I am indeed kept extrem ely bus y and that is why we need to expedite the bus ines s of the E IE I.' 'S o, s hall we do that?' I s ugges ted. S he flic ked open a file on her des k and tapped a red nail at the doc um ent ins ide. 'I have rec eived from you the nam es of s om e s uitable s c hools for the foreign ins pec tors to vis it but thes e need to be ratified, of c ours e, by Dr Gore. He would, I'm s ure, only want them to vis it our flags hip s c hools . T he ins pec tors will, no doubt, wis h to obs erve s om e les s ons and talk with teac hers to c om pare our s ys tem of educ ation with that in their own c ountry. I am told that they s peak very good E nglis h.' 'Y es , I know that, Mrs S avage,' I told her wearily, 'and all has been prepared. If you rem em ber, we went through what they would be doing when we m et at the S DC early las t term , the m orning you were m is taken for Mr Clam p's nude m odel.' Her m outh tightened. 'T he leas t s aid about that the better, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid. Her voic e was hard and c lipped. 'I did have a word with Dr Gore about that whole inc ident. I im agine he s poke to Mr Clam p.' 'Not to m y knowledge,' I inform ed her. 'A nd I als o c ontac ted P ers onnel about the janitor taking tim e off to holiday in Franc e without s eeking the required perm is s ion.' 'Yes , you s aid you would,' I replied. 'A c tually, Mrs S avage, Connie went to s c atter her father's as hes . I believe Dr Gore very kindly wrote to her expres s ing his c ondolenc es . Connie w as c ons idering res igning after rec eiving a rather unpleas ant letter from P ers onnel c ontaining a written warning, but Dr Gore pers uaded her to s tay on.' 'I do not rec all s eeing any letter from Dr Gore and I deal with all his c orres pondenc e.' 'B eing a letter of c ondolenc e and therefore pers onal, I expec t it was hand-written,' I s aid. 'Now s inc e, as you have pointed out, we need to expedite the bus ines s of the E IE I, Mrs S avage, s hall we do that? T he s c hools have been identified, the arrangem ents m ade, the vis its organis ed, whic h leaves little to be dealt with.' 'It does no harm to rec ap, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid in a patronis ing voic e. 'T hen we don't get c ros s ed wires . Dr Gore wis hes you to s et up a m eeting at the S DC with invited headteac hers and governors to talk about the educ ation s ys tem over here. He, of c ours e, will addres s them . If I m ight s ugges t -' 'T hat, too, has all been taken c are of, Mrs S avage,' I as s ured her in a deliberately im patient tone of voic e. S he was rather taken abac k. 'Really?' 'Y es , I've arranged all that as well.' 'Oh, then we c an m ove on.' 'If we m ight.' 'Now, if two of your c olleagues and yours elf,' s he s ugges ted, 'ac c om pany one of thes e foreign ins pec tors eac h for the two days and look after him or her, it would m ean that they would s ee a range of different s ubjec ts in a variety of s c hools .' 'I have taken c are of that, too, Mrs S avage,' I told her, gritting m y teeth. 'Mr Clam p and Mr P ritc hard are only too happy to be involved.' T here was a long s ilenc e before s he s aid, 'I take it, then, that Dr Y eats and Dr Mullarkey are not available?' Her voic e was lac onic . 'I don't know whether Dr Yeats and Dr Mullarkey are available or not,' I told her, m y voic e again taking on an exas perated edge. 'I didn't as k them .' A c tually I had had a word with Geraldine but s he was extrem ely bus y running a c ours e at that tim e as well as attending appointm ent panels during the week of the vis it. Harold, too, had s aid he had far too m uc h on. A fter the c hange of heart with regard to the c los ure of the s m all s c hools , a s eries of m eetings had been arranged to s ee where els e m oney c ould be s aved from the educ ation budget. Harold, of c ours e, was required to attend. 'I have s poken with both Mr Clam p and Mr P ritc hard and explained what will be required, and they would be very pleas ed to take part in the initiative.' 'Do you think that thos e two c olleagues are the m os t s uitable for this endeavour?' Mrs S avage as ked. 'E m inently.' 'I s ee,' s he s aid c urtly, after another long paus e. 'W ell that, of c ours e, is your dec is ion.' 'Y es , it is ,' I agreed. 'B ut it is im perative, Mr P hinn,' s he announc ed, s napping s hut the file in front of her and giving m e an ic y glare, 'that you liais e with m e at all tim es . I need to be kept fully inform ed.' 'Of c ours e,' I replied, wis hing that this totally unnec es s ary m eeting would end. 'S urely that is the point of this m eeting?' 'It m akes m y life s o m uc h eas ier if I am kept fully up to s peed,' s he c ontinued. 'I will, of c ours e, deal with all the adm inis tration, s end the foreign ins pec tors the relevant doc um entation, arrange their travel, s end them a detailed itinerary and program m e of events and s o forth, but there is one thing I would like you to do as a m atter of s om e urgenc y. I would apprec iate it if you c ould have a word, s ooner rather than later, with that janitor at the S taff Developm ent Centre - that wom an in the pink overall.' 'Connie,' I rem inded her. 'I have to s ay that I find her quite abras ive and diffic ult. S om etim es I don't think s he knows who I am and what pos ition I hold at County Hall. S he has a m os t offhand m anner. You will rec all that when we held the interviews for the S enior Ins pec tor's pos t, when that Mr Carter, he who gave bac k-word, was appointed, the wom an was m os t rude, very unhelpful and quite obs truc tive. I m erely as ked her for m ore tea and bis c uits and one would have thought that I had as ked her to lay down her life.' 'S o what's this m atter of s om e urgenc y that you wis h m e to deal with?' I as ked irritably. 'T he m atter of the c atering,' s he replied. 'T he c atering?' I as ked. 'A s we agreed, there will be a rec eption for our foreign vis itors at the S DC. T here will be nibbles and drinks , that s ort of thing.' S he c leared her throat. 'I c an s ee problem s with... with that wom an.' 'Connie?' 'Y es . If s he is unable to provide tea and bis c uits , how will s he c ope with a buffet? I really do not feel inc lined to liais e with her over the provis ion of the food and drink. A s I s aid, s he c an be very diffic ult.' T hat's ripe c om ing from her, I thought. 'W ell, this really is part of y our rem it,' I s aid. 'Not nec es s arily,' s he replied. T here was a s ofter tone to her voic e now. 'Y ou s pend far m ore tim e at the S DC. It oc c urred to m e that you m ight like to deal with that s ide of things .' I was beginning to enjoy this . 'No, not really,' I replied. 'I have quite enough on. I think the c atering is bes t dealt with by you.' 'Mr P hinn, do you want our E uropean c olleagues to return to their res pec tive c ountries with an unfavourable im pres s ion of E nglis h hos pitality?' 'Of c ours e not,' I replied, s tuffing the papers bac k in m y briefc as e and getting to m y feet. 'W ell, Mrs S avage, everything s eem s to have been dealt with. I will let you get to your briefing with Dr Gore and c om pile your detailed dos s ier. I'll give you a ring next week to c hec k on final details before the foreign ins pec tors ' vis it.' Mrs S avage twis ted a ring around on her long finger. 'Mr P hinn,' s he s aid, 'I would be very grateful if you c ould s ee fit to arrange the c atering. I would find it very helpful.' T here was another long paus e, then, 'P leas e.' 'I don't rec all your being partic ularly helpful, Mrs S avage,' I told her, 'when I wanted that report bac k. In fac t you were m os t unhelpful.' 'T hat was an entirely different m atter,' s he told m e. 'It was -' 'More than your job was worth? Y es , I rec all you telling m e.' I then added, 'V ery well, Mrs S avage, I will arrange the c atering.' 'T hank you,' s he s aid s im ply. On m y way out of County Hall, I kept a s harp eye open for a party of A m eric an Quakers heading for the County A rc hitec ts ' Departm ent. 'I'm s orry, S idney, but it is a well-known fac t that other E uropeans s peak their own language m uc h better than the E nglis h s peak theirs .' David was in one of his m ore s erious m oods and was holding forth about the vis it of the foreign ins pec tors . 'A nd furtherm ore, they are far m ore likely to s peak E nglis h than we are to s peak their language. T hes e three ins pec tors c om ing here, for exam ple, are all apparently fluent in E nglis h. How m any of us are fluent in Italian or S panis h or Frenc h? Y ou s ee, they m ake the effort and the E nglis h do not. Indeed, the E nglis hm an abroad expec ts the foreigners to s peak E nglis h. If no one unders tands him , he then goes up an oc tave and s tarts s houting. A nd, I would go further than that. T he foreigner very often has a better c om m and of the E nglis h language than the E nglis h have them s elves .' 'A nd upon what do you bas e thes e obs ervations about the s tate of our language?' enquired S idney. 'Have you done s om e s ort of detailed res earc h?' 'I don't need to do any detailed res earc h,' replied David. 'Y ou only have to look around to s ee how the us e of E nglis h has dec lined. P eople don't s eem able to s pell or punc tuate or expres s them s elves any m ore. J ulie, for exam ple, is forever m is plac ing a partic iple.' 'S he always was very forgetful,' rem arked S idney. 'I do hope s he found it.' 'A nd s plitting her infinitives ,' c ontinued David. 'Oooh, that s ounds painful,' s aid S idney, s c rewing up his fac e dram atic ally. David was in full flow by this tim e and not to be s topped. 'A nd when we had young Frank doing the letters , his s pellings were patently bizarre. He was a nic e enough young m an, but his E nglis h! I really don't know what they will m ake of him in Financ ial S ervic es . I hope he's better with num bers than he is with words . J ulie tries her bes t and I know s he is overworked but I have to c hec k everything s he writes .' 'Com e on, David,' I s aid. 'It's not that bad.' 'T hen there's Connie,' c ontinued m y c olleague. 'Don't m ention that wom an,' s pluttered S idney. 'S he is a prim e exam ple of how not to us e E nglis h. S he m angles and m urders the language with m alapropis m s and non s equiturs . I arrived at the S DC las t week and there was a notic e outs ide the Gents : "A ttention! W et floor! T his is not an ins truc tion! " I m ean, what do vis itors think?' 'Oh, for goodnes s s ake, David,' I s aid. 'Connie is a c leaner, and a dam n good c leaner as well, not a profes s or of linguis tic s . S he does n't need to have a perfec t c om m and of the E nglis h language to polis h and dus t and c lean the toilets .' 'A nd that is exac tly what s he s hould do,' s aid S idney, 'polis h and dus t and c lean the toilets . I c ouldn't c are les s how s he s peaks , it's what s he s ays that m akes m y blood boil.' He thought for a m om ent. 'I s ay, does that m ake s ens e? A nyway, you know what I m ean - it's her attitude.' 'T hen there's Mrs S avage with her m anagem ent gobbledegook,' David c ontinued, unabas hed. 'Let's hope thes e foreign ins pec tors don't m eet either of them . T hey'll be utterly c onfus ed by the one and totally c onfounded by the other. A t that wretc hed "Health and S afety" m eeting, it was as if Mrs S avage was - were,' he has tily c orrec ted him s elf, 's peaking a foreign language, flagging things up, getting up to s peed, thinking outs ide the box, c lim bing aboard, having thought s howers , finding windows in diaries . E ven Dr Gore is not guiltles s . "T he E duc ation Com m ittee have dec ided..." he wrote in the las t m em orandum . It s hould be, "T he E duc ation Com m ittee has dec ided".' 'Does it really m atter?' s ighed S idney. 'I m ean, aren't there m ore im portant things to oc c upy your tim e than s potting the odd s plit infinitive and m is plac ed partic iple? In the whole s c hem e of things , does it really, really m atter?' 'Of c ours e it m atters ! ' s napped David. 'It's jus t a s loppy us e of the language. It's part and parc el of the dec line in s tandards . I was in a s c hool las t week and a teac her had not only m is s pelt "parallelogram " on the m athem atic s exam ination paper but had inform ed the s tudents that "T his option is c om puls ory". I m ean, how c an an option be c om puls ory?' 'Oh, don't be s o pedantic , David,' s aid S idney. 'Y ou are an old m is ery-guts , m oaning and c om plaining. Y ou s hould be rejoic ing. Mis s de la Mare is taking over. S urely that s hould bring a s m ile to that little wizened W els h fac e of yours .' 'I am trying to have a s erious dis c us s ion here, S idney,' s aid David. 'I think Gervas e m ight run a few c ours es for educ ation em ployees on the effec tive us e of E nglis h.' 'No c hanc e! ' I s pluttered. 'I have enough on at the m om ent, thank you very m uc h.' 'W ell, I des pair at the flagrant m is us e of the language,' s aid David. 'W e all m ake m is takes ,' I s aid. 'A re you telling us , David, that you never ever m ake an error with your own writing?' 'Of c ours e not, but not in every other word.' 'E nglis h is a very tric ky and troubles om e language,' I c om m ented. 'It is full of m inefields . You tell m e a rule of s pelling, David, and I'll find you an exc eption. A nyway, I find thos e double m eanings are rather am us ing. I rem em ber a his tory es s ay we were as ked to do at s c hool: "T rac e the events leading up to the birth of Henry V III".' 'I rec kon your his tory teac her rec eived s om e very interes ting ans wers to that ques tion,' s m irked S idney. 'A nd talking of double entendres , have you s een that pric eles s s ign outs ide the new Dales V is itors ' Centre: "P leas e Leave Heather For A ll To E njoy". I s ugges ted to the m an at the des k that poor Heather m us t have been feeling rather the wors e for wear. He didn't apprec iate the wittic is m , I'm afraid.' 'Chris tine found s om e pric eles s advertis em ents for jobs las t week in the Fettles ham Gaz ette,' I s aid. 'S he always c uts them out for m e.' I extrac ted the little c lippings from m y notebook. 'One s aid: "A n opportunity to join an expanding c ontrac ting c om pany". A nother, "A re you going plac es in alum inium foil?" T hen there was "S treet lighting engineers - two pos ts ".' 'Quite a little treas ure trove you have there,' rem arked S idney. 'W hat on earth do you keep them for?' 'T hey are very us eful to lighten the atm os phere at s om e of the dinners I am as ked to s peak at,' I replied. 'Or s hould I s ay, at whic h I am as ked to s peak.' I glanc ed over in David's direc tion. 'Here's a headline from a c ouple of weeks ago,' I s aid, reading from another c lipping: '"Man battered in fis h s hop".' 'A h, well they do that deliberately,' s aid S idney, laughing. 'T he s ec ret of a c atc hy headline is to c onvey the greates t am biguity in the fewes t words . Here's s om e m ore that you c an add to your c ollec tion, Gervas e: "General Montgom ery flies bac k to front". "Captain Fuc hs off to A ntarc tic a". "B ody in garden is a plant, s ays wom an".' 'Y ou are m aking m y point prec is ely,' s aid David. 'News papers are s om e of the wors t offenders . T he Fettles ham Gaz ette is a prim e exam ple of s loppy E nglis h. T hey s hould be s etting a good exam ple. It is s om ething I feel very s trongly about.' 'A bout whic h I feel very s trongly,' s aid S idney and then, ignoring David's angry glare, c ontinued: 'I've told J ulie to go very c arefully with that lips tic k s he's us ing at pres ent. S he c ould be s everely inc apac itated s hould s he follow the ins truc tions printed on the s ide.' 'W hat does it s ay?' I as ked, intrigued. '"T ake off c ap and pus h up bottom ".' S idney and I c ac kled with laughter. David gave us a pitying look. 'It's no us e trying to have a s erious c onvers ation with you two s c hoolboys . I c ould have predic ted your res pons e, S idney, but I have to s ay, Gervas e, I rather expec ted a little m ore s upport from the E nglis h ins pec tor. W ell, I'm off.' 'Y es , I thought I c ould detec t a s trange, rather fis hy s m ell,' rem arked S idney as David s trode for the door. 'Y ou know,' s aid David, paus ing at the door, 'things will c hange when Mis s de la Mare takes over, I c an tell you. I bet s he's a s tic kler for c orrec t E nglis h.' W hen David had gone I turned to S idney. 'Y ou s houldn't rib him s o m uc h.' 'W ell, he's s o s erious thes e days . I s hould have thought with the appointm ent of Mis s de la Mare, he would be walking on c louds . W e c ould have been landed with that odious Mr Carter and his m anagem ent s peak.' A s was his wont, S idney leaned bac k expans ively on his c hair. 'Yes , indeed, I'm s o m uc h looking forward to working with dear W inifred. I love Harold dearly and will m is s him greatly, but W inifred will bring a breath of fres h air with her. W e have s o m uc h in c om m on.' He c aught s ight of the expres s ion on m y fac e. 'W hat are you grinning at?' S o m uc h in c om m on, I thought: the one a totally unpredic table, larger than life, m erc urial bear of a m an; the other, a prec is e, highly-organis ed wom an with a m ind as s harp as a razor. It would be very interes ting to s ee what our new S enior Ins pec tor m ade of the Ins pec tor for Creative and V is ual A rts . 'Nothing, S idney,' I s aid. 'Nothing at all.' W e worked on our reports and c orres pondenc e for the next hour in relative s ilenc e. W hen the c loc k on the County Hall tower s truc k s ix o'c loc k, S idney s tretc hed and s ighed. 'Governors ' m eeting for m e tonight at High Rus ton-c um -Riddles wade J unior and Infant S c hool, right out in the s tic ks . I do hope it does n't go on and on. T hat Mrs Dingle-S m ith and her s ide-kic k, the tires om e Mrs P owell (pronounc ed P ole), never s hut up. Like c hattering m onkeys . Of c ours e, they'll be delighted that their s c hool, whic h was on the lis t for c los ure, has been reprieved. I s uppos e that will be high on the agenda and it will be after ten before I get hom e. T his is the third late night this week. Oh, by the way, your Chris tine needs to be c ongratulated on her efforts to keep the s m all s c hools from c los ing.' 'Y es ,' I replied, 's he c aus ed a few waves .' 'W aves ! ' exc laim ed S idney. 'It was a veritable tidal deluge.' 'S he did very well,' I s aid. 'W onderful wom an. Y ou're a luc ky m an, Gervas e.' 'I know.' 'S o, where are you tonight then?' S idney as ked. 'It's Chris tine's leaving do at W innery Nook. Y ou were invited but -' 'Governors ' m eeting,' he s ighed. 'I know. In fac t,' he exc laim ed, s winging his c hair bac k into an upright pos ition with a c latter, 'that will be a perfec t exc us e to leave early, and then I will c om e on to the party.' 'E xc ellent! S he'd love to s ee you. A nyway, I m us t m ake trac ks ,' I told him . 'I s aid I'd pic k Connie up before s even.'

'Connie's going?' 'Of c ours e s he's going. S he's not that bad, you know, S idney. Her heart is in the right plac e, and s he's always had a s oft s pot for Chris tine.' 'T he right plac e for Connie's heart is on a kebab,' s aid S idney, violently jabbing a pile of paper on his des k with his paper-knife. 'T he wom an's an interfering, bad-tem pered, entirely unreas onable m enac e. I s hall be having words with our new S enior Ins pec tor. S he's jus t the pers on to put Connie in her plac e. S he forgets that I am a s enior m em ber of the E duc ation Departm ent. Connie s peaks to m e as if I were a naughty s c hoolboy.' 'Y ou s ound jus t like Mrs S avage, S idney,' I s aid. 'A pparently s he does n't think Connie knows who s he is . I als o rem em ber her s aying to Mrs Os baldis ton, the tim e s he was m is taken for your nude m odel, "Do you know who I am ?" ' 'Oh, well, I would never s ay that,' protes ted S idney. 'In fac t, I c annot abide people who s ay that. "Do you know who I am ?" No, no, I would never s ay that. I rem em ber reading onc e about this extrem ely rude and aggres s ive individual dres s ed in a bright c hec ked jac ket and dangling c am era who pus hed his way to the front of the queue at the airport and dem anded attention. He inform ed the airline attendant that he had to be c hec ked through firs t s inc e he was on the next flight. T he attendant as ked him very politely to wait his turn. No doubt, s he told him , he c ould s ee there was a long queue of other pas s engers ahead of him . A nyway, the m an banged his fis t on the c ounter, waved his bus ines s c las s tic ket in front of her fac e and s houted for all to hear, thos e ridic ulous words : "Do you know who I am ?" T he attendant s tared at him for a m om ent before pic king up the public addres s m ic rophone and announc ing c alm ly: "May I have your attention, pleas e. T here is a pas s enger in a rather loud jac ket who does not know who he is . Could anyone who m ay be able to identify him pleas e c om e to des k 9."' 'I rem em ber the oc c as ion when I was s itting for m y finals ,' I s aid, rem inded of an inc ident s im ilar to S idney's . 'T he invigilator was ins is tent that we s top writing im m ediately when he told us to do s o. He m ade a point of repeating a num ber of tim es that if anyone s till had a pen in his hand after he had told us "P ens down", then the paper would be invalidated. A nyhow, this pal of m ine, Derm ot Monaghan his nam e was , was writing his nam e on the top of his paper when the invigilator, or perhaps m ore appropriately as it turned out, the invalidator, c alled "P ens down". Derm ot c arried on writing and when he c am e to hand in his paper he was told it wouldn't be ac c epted.' 'T hat was rather petty and m ean-m inded,' s aid S idney. 'He s ounds like a m ale vers ion of Mrs S avage with her rules and proc edures .' 'S o Derm ot explained he was only writing his nam e, but the invigilator s till would not ac c ept the paper and s tarted s tac king this m as s ive pile of exam ination papers on his des k. Derm ot pleaded with him but to no avail. "You heard what I s aid," the invigilator told him . "I c annot ac c ept it." Derm ot drew him s elf up and looked the invigilator s traight in the eye. "Do you know who I am ?" he as ked in a really pom pous tone of voic e. "No," s aid the invigilator, "I have no idea who you are and telling m e anyway will not have the s lightes t effec t." "S o you don't know who I am ?" Derm ot as ked again. "No," replied the invigilator. "T hat's good," s aid Derm ot and, as fas t as lightning, s tuffed the paper right into the c entre of the pile.' 'I never know whether to believe your s tories , Gervas e,' s aid S idney, laughing. 'T hat's ripe c om ing from you,' I s aid. 'It's good that you c an laugh,' s aid S idney. 'I would have thought that you had little to find am us ing at the m om ent.' 'W hy's that?' 'Y ou m us t be feeling pretty awful about dem olis hing that old Quaker m eeting hous e, the one thos e A m eric ans want to res tore.' 'W ho told you about the A m eric an Quakers ?' I as ked. 'I took a c all for you yes terday. Delightful m an. W hat was his nam e? B rews ter, was it? He was wanting to get in touc h with you again. He s aid he'll ring you at hom e tonight. He wants to dis c us s the plans for the res toration.' 'Oh heavens ! Y ou didn't tell him I'd knoc ked it down, did you?' 'Of c ours e not.' 'T his is a nightm are,' I s aid. 'P erhaps I ought to go and s ee J as per P erkins . Get his advic e.' 'Old P erkins is on holiday. T he A m eric ans tried to s ee him but they were told he won't be bac k for a week. T here's a s troke of luc k for you.' 'Oh dear m e,' I s ighed. 'W hatever am I going to do?' 'I've told you, old boy,' s aid S idney, patting m e on the s houlder, 'blam e it on the vandals .'

23 S enor Carlos Itturiaga was a s m all, plum p, jolly m an with typic ally dark S panis h eyes , a friendly fac e and blac k lus trous hair s lic ked bac k in rippling waves . W earing a c rum pled linen s uit and c lutc hing a giant m ultic oloured um brella, he was waiting with his c om panions in the hotel lobby. W ith him were S ignor T oria, a very tall and thin ins pec tor from Florenc e, m os t am iable-looking and, her c urves s om ewhere between the two, a s tunning B rigitte B ardot look-alike from T ours c alled S im one. T he foreign ins pec tors had arrived late the previous evening and gone s traight to the hotel where they were s taying. S idney, David and I now arrived early the next m orning at the hotel to c ollec t them and take them round the s elec ted s c hools . Over the next two days , they would obs erve s om e teac hing, talk to teac hers and learn a little about the E nglis h educ ation s ys tem . Of c ours e, it was S idney who m ade a bee-line for the divine S im one and whis ked her off before we c ould dis c us s who was ac c om panying whom . It ended up with David P ritc hard taking tall, thin S ignor T oria, and m e with the plum p, little S paniard. Carlos Itturiaga talked all the way to the c ar like a revolving door: round and round he went, c hattering, c om m enting, laughing and as king ques tions and all the while s hrugging, ges tic ulating, rolling his eyes and waving his plum p-fingered hands in every direc tion. I had im agined that the initial c onvers ations with our foreign vis itors would be rather s tilted and form al and therefore I was greatly relieved to find s uc h a bubbly and uninhibited c om panion. B y the tim e we arrived at the firs t s c hool on our itinerary I had learnt all about V igo, the c ity where he lived, his fam ily, his interes ts , and I was pretty well c onvers ant with the whole of the S panis h educ ation s ys tem and his own views on teac hing and learning. From Fettles ham , I took the s c enic route to the firs t s c hool and wound m y way, in low gear, up a trac k whic h twis ted and turned like a c oiled s pring. I had travelled this narrow road m any tim es before and knew what an am azing panoram a we would s ee when we reac hed the brow of the very s teepes t hill. P res ently, I pulled over into a s m all lay-by s o m y c om panion c ould view the s erene beauty of the s c ene whic h lay below the bare lonely hills , largely treeles s and aus tere, the c raggy outc rops of roc k s tic king up out of the dead brac ken. S enor Itturiaga im m ediately c eas ed his c ons tant c hatter and s tared out of the c ar window. 'It ees very beautiful,' he s aid. 'Not at all as I expec ted. I was told E ngland ees very green, very flat, lots of trees and plenty of water.' 'Y ou are in Y orks hire, Carlos ,' I told him . 'T here is nothing quite like Y orks hire. It's c alled God's own c ountry.' 'A nd it ees c old,' he obs erved. 'It ees very c old for m e at thees tim e of the year.' 'Now in Y orks hire we would s ay you were "nes h".' 'Nes h?' He tilted his head quizzic ally. 'Rather s ens itive to the c old.' 'Nes h,' he repeated. 'Nes h. V ery interes ting.' B elow us s tretc hed a vas t c anvas of em pty grey m oorland, s c attered with great jags of roc k. It was a rugged and prim itive lands c ape, naked s ave for a few hardy, grubby-looking s heep whic h were foraging for food, and a s m all c ops e of s keletal trees c lawing for the s ky. In the far dis tanc e, pale purple hills s hrouded in a s m oky m is t ros e m ajes tic ally to a pale blue s ky. It was an awes om e s ight. Returning to the c ar, we dropped down into the village huddled round the old c hurc h in the bottom of the valley. Loxley Chas e was typic al of a Dales village s c hool: a s quare and s olid s tone building enc los ed by low, c raggy, lim es tone walls . W hile we were waiting for the headteac her, Mr Leatherboy, Carlos s tood looking out of a window at the m agnific ent view up to the fells beyond. Following a tour of the s c hool with Mr Leatherboy, Carlos and I joined a junior c las s and a group of twenty or s o s even-to eleven-year-olds . It was one of the healthies t groups of youngs ters I had ever s een: s turdy bodies , ros y-red c heeks , bright eyes and c lear c om plexions . T he c hildren obvious ly c am e from good farm ing s toc k and s pent a great deal of the tim e outdoors . 'W hy do the s heep on the hills have a red c olour on their bac ks ?' as ked Carlos of a s toc ky boy. 'T ha knaas .' 'P ardon?' as ked Carlos . 'I s aid tha knaas .' 'T ha knaas ?' repeated m y c olleague, appearing c om pletely flum m oxed. He looked appealingly in m y direc tion. 'T rans late, plees .' 'He is s ure you already know,' I replied. 'I'm afraid m y friend does n't know,' I told the boy, 'and, for that m atter, I don't either.' 'T ha does ,' c huc kled the boy. 'No, no, I don't.' 'Gerron wi' thee! T ha does .' 'Really,' I laughed. 'I don't know.' T he boy looked at m e with a wry s m ile on his fac e and a twinkle in his brown eyes whic h were s trangely s pec kled. He then glanc ed out of the window at the s heep lazily c ropping the gras s on the hills ide beyond. Many of the s heep were s plas hed with red at the end of their bac ks . 'A re tha 'avin' m e on,' he as ked, 'or dunt tha reeally knaa?' 'I'm not joking,' I told him . 'I really don't know. Is it to tell whic h s hepherd they belong to?' 'Nay,' s aid the lad. 'T hey all belong to t's am e s hepherd. T hey're ruddled.' 'Ruddled?' I repeated. 'A ye, in s om e dales they s ay "raddled" but up 'ere we s ays "ruddled".' Carlos looked at m e and repeated the word s lowly, 'Ruddled. V ery interes ting.' I s hrugged and turned bac k to the boy. 'I'm s till in the dark,' I told him . 'W ell, tha s ees ,' began the boy, 'on yer fells yonder is a goodly num ber of "yows " - them 's ewes - fem ale s heep, and one or two "tups " - ram s , m ale s heep. A re tha wi' m e s o far?' 'I am .' 'Reight then. T ha dunt need m any tups . Does tha know why?' 'Y es , I'm s till with you. Go on.' 'Reight then, t's hepherd puts an 'arnes s under yer tup's belly, s ooart o' leather s trap affair wi' a s ooart of big red wax c rayon in it. It 'angs down under 'im . A re tha s till wi' m e?' T he s c ales were falling from m y eyes . 'Y es . I've got the pic ture now, thank you very m uc h. I think I c an work the res t out for m ys elf. S hall we have a look at your writing book?' 'Naa then.' T he boy was not going to be s topped half way through his explanation, s o c arried on regardles s . 'W hen 'e's s erved a yow - does tha -' 'Y es , I know what that m eans ,' I interrupted. 'W ell, when 'e's s erved a yow, t'tup leaves 'is m ark on 'er bac k whic h m eans s he's been ruddled. Does tha follow m i drift?' 'Y es , I've got the idea,' I s aid. 'Cooars e, if there's no c olour on 'er bac k at all, then tha knaas t'tup's not been doin' what Nature's intended 'im to do, and 'e needs a bit o' enc ouragin' like. T 's hepherd knaas , tha s ees , that s he's not been s een to.' 'Fas c inating,' I s aid quic kly. 'S o, s hall we look at your book?' 'W hat language ees thees boy s peaking?' as ked Carlos , looking c om pletely dum bfounded. 'I thought m y E nglees h was quite good, but I have not unders tood a s eengle word.' 'It's "Y orks hire" - a variation of E nglis h,' I told him . 'Dialec t.' 'T hees "s een to",' he as ked, s till with a puzzled expres s ion on his round fac e. 'Could you explain thees "s een to" for m e, plees ?' 'It's rather c om plic ated,' I told him . 'I'll explain it later.' 'Now then, during s om e parts o' year,' c ontinued the boy, 'you don't want your tup bothering t'yows , s o you put 'er in 'er winter c louts . T hey're s ort of triangles of jute s ac king whic h you s titc h to your yow's bac k end to s top your tup from -' 'Y es , I've got the idea,' I interrupted. 'B ut why does n't the s hepherd jus t put the ram in a different field if he wants him away from the ewes ?' T he boy s hook his head. 'W e're talkin' S waledales , m es ter. Y our hardy, blac k-fac ed S waledales are at hooam on t'fells and m oorland. Y ou don't fenc e 'em in. T hey dooan't s top in t'fields all year round, tha knaas . T hey wander free and yer yows are only brought down to t'valley at lam bing tim e to give birth in t'fields near t'farm buildings . T hen they're driven bac k on t'hills . Now, with yer winter c louts -' I thought it appropriate at this point to try and c hange the s ubjec t again. 'Do you do m uc h poetry in c las s ?' I as ked. 'P oetry?' repeated the boy. 'A ye, we do s om e poetry. B ut I was tellin' you about t'winter c louts .' 'P erhaps another tim e,' I s aid. 'W aay,' s aid the boy, a flas h of anger in his eyes , 'it were your pal what brought it up. I were only anwerin' 'im , when 'e as ked about s heep bein' "ruddled".' W ith that, he s hook his head again and got on with his work. A t m orning break, while Carlos quizzed Mr Leatherboy about the E nglis h educ ation s ys tem , I s trolled around the front of the s c hool, breathing in the fres h air and m arvelling at the panoram a before m e. 'A dm irin' t'view?' I turned to find a s m all m an with a huge hawk-like nos e and the s m all down-turned m outh of a peevis h c hild. He was attired in a grey overall and c arried two long-handled s pades . 'Y es , it's beautiful,' I s aid. 'A re you the s c hool c aretaker?' 'S ite m anager,' he c orrec ted m e. 'Doing a bit of gardening?' 'I'm bloody not! ' he exc laim ed. 'I've got enough on looking after t'building wi'out goin' s earc hin' for work. I'm after t'rabbits this m ornin'. T here's 'undreds of 'em . I trap 'em , net 'em , gas 'em , pois on 'em , bloc k up their warrens . I've 'ad m i ferrets down their 'oles , m i J ac k Rus s ell c atc hing 'em but they go on breedin' like... like...' 'Rabbits ?' I ventured. 'A ye, they do. I'm after t'dis eas ed uns today, them wi' m yxom ytos is . I don't like rabbits , but it's a terrible s ight to s ee 'em all deform ed and c rippled. I wait until t'kiddies are in s c hool, then c om e out wi' m i s pades to dis pos e of 'em .' He lowered his voic e to a whis per. 'Look, there's a c ouple of 'em ovver by t'wall. Can you s ee 'em ?' T he c reatures he pointed out looked pathetic indeed, hunc hed up with their pale grey eyes s eeing nothing. 'Only 'um ane thing to do is to put 'em out of their m is ery. One s hort, s harp s m ac k wi' m i s pade and then I bury 'em in t'field yonder. If you leave 'em , they die a long and lingering death. Terrible dis eas e is m yxom ytos is . I wouldn't wis h it on any c reature, even on rabbits .' He looked around c ons piratorially. 'Of c ours e, I 'ave to be very dis c reet about it. I don't want t'c hildren peering out of t'c las s room windows to s ee m e flattening a rabbit wi' a s pade. It'd give 'em nightm ares . S o I wait till they're all in t'playground at t'other s ide of t's c hool and then I do what 'as to be done. Y ou s ee, if I don't dis pos e of 'em , kiddies m ight go up and touc h 'em and we c an't be 'avin' that, now c an we?' 'No, we c an't,' I agreed. T hen, before I c ould protes t, he thrus t a s pade into m y hand. 'Com e on,' he s aid. 'Y ou c an 'elp m e.' 'No, no, 'I s aid, 'I really c ouldn't.' 'I'll do t'dis pos in', you jus t m ake s ure they don't go bac k to their 'oles . Not that they look as if they're goin' anywhere.' I followed him c harily towards the poor c reatures and watc hed the exec utioner rais e his ins trum ent of death high above his head. He took a deep breath and was about to bring the s pade down with a s ic kening thud onto a s hivering little c reature, when Carlos and a group of c hattering c hildren appeared from around the s ide of the s c hool. T he s m all group froze in am azem ent. W ith great pres enc e of m ind, the c aretaker s kipped towards m e and tapped m y s pade handle with his . 'P retend we're m orris danc in',' he s aid, out of the c orner of his m outh. I was dis m ayed to learn from the headteac her later that m orning that Mrs S avage was to m ake an appearanc e. No doubt s he wanted to c hec k up on things and m ake her pres enc e felt. 'T here's a very nic e little pub in the village,' Mr Leatherboy told m e. 'I expec t the three of you will want to go out for s om ething to eat s o you c an dis c us s things .' Under no c irc um s tanc es was I having lunc h with Mrs S avage. 'Oh no,' I s aid. 'I always eat with the c hildren when I vis it s c hools . It's an exc ellent opportunity to m eet them inform ally and I always find they are far m ore relaxed and talkative over the dinner table. W e'll have s c hool lunc h here, if that is all right.' 'Of c ours e,' replied the headteac her, 'it's fis h fingers today.' Mrs S avage, res plendent in her early s pring ens em ble - a pale c ream s uit and m atc hing ac c es s ories - was all s m iles and jangling jewellery when s he s ailed pas t the s c hool s ec retary and through the headteac her's door. 'B uenos dias ,' s he s aid, holding out a m anic ured hand to the S panis h ins pec tor. 'A h, buenos dias , s enora,' replied Carlos . 'I'm afraid "B uenos dias " is about the extent of m y S panis h, S enor Itturiaga,' s aid Mrs S avage, giving him the m os t c harm ing of s m iles . 'I do s o love S pain. T he s uns hine, the c olours , the people, the wine. I am B renda S avage, P ers onal A s s is tant to Dr Gore, the Chief E duc ation Offic er, by the way. You'll be m eeting the CE O tom orrow evening, S enor Itturiaga, at our little rec eption.' 'Carlos , plees .' 'Carlos ,' s he s aid s om ewhat breathles s ly. If was as if the headteac her and I were invis ible. 'T his is Mr Leatherboy, the headteac her,' I s aid s tiffly. 'T his is Mrs S avage.' 'Good m orning,' s aid the headteac her. I c ould s ee he was rather put out by this wom an s wanning into his offic e without a word to him . 'I've jus t popped in to s ee how things are going,' s aid Mrs S avage, as if s he were in c om plete c harge of the whole undertaking. 'T hings are going very well,' I s aid. 'Y ou needn't have troubled yours elf.' 'Oh, it's really no trouble. A s you are aware, Dr Gore is partic ularly keen that this vis it from our E uropean friends s hould go well.' 'W ell, things are going extrem ely well,' s aid the headteac her. 'In fac t -' 'I'm very pleas ed to hear it.' S he looked at m e. 'A nd have you lunc hed?' s he as ked. 'W e were jus t about to eat,' I s aid, 'if you would c are to join us .' 'V ery m uc h,' s he trilled. 'T here's a very quaint and typic ally E nglis h c ountry inn in the village, T he Marquis of Granby, quite fam ous for its s eafood, I hear.' I c ut her s hort. 'W e're eating with the c hildren, Mrs S avage,' I s aid. 'W e always do when we vis it s c hools . I'm s ure you have no objec tion.' 'Oh,' s he replied, m aking a fac e. 'A c tually eating with the c hildren?' 'Y es , that's right,' I s aid, s uppres s ing a s m ile. 'T hat would be very nic e,' s he lied. 'A nd, as it s o happens , it's a s eafood delic ac y today,' I told her, giving the headteac her a s ideways glanc e. 'Really?' 'Y es , fis h fingers .' I very m uc h enjoyed watc hing Mrs S avage's dis c om fiture as s he s at on a long wooden benc h des igned for s m all c hildren, s andwic hed between two rather m es s y little infant eaters who c hattered without paus ing, liberally s pitting out food. Mrs S avage m anaged to forc e down half a fis h finger and two c hips before plac ing her knife and fork together. 'A re you 'avin' them fis h fingers ?' as ked the little girl on her right. 'No, dear, I'm not,' replied Mrs S avage. 'Can I have 'em ?' 'P leas e do.' 'A re you 'avin' yer c hips ?' 'No, dear.' 'Can I 'ave them , an' all?' 'Y es , you m ay.' 'A re you 'avin' your yoghurt?' as ked the c hild on her left. 'No.' 'Can I 'ave it?' 'P leas e do.' T he fis h fingers , c hips and the yoghurt were quic kly c om m andeered. 'W ell,' s aid Mrs S avage, 'if you will exc us e m e, I need to fres hen up.' S he turned to the c hild who had jus t s c ooped out a great s poonful of pink yoghurt. 'Could you tell m e, dear, where the s taff toilets are?' 'Over theer,' replied the c hild, waving the s poon in front of her and, in the proc es s , s pattering Mrs S avage with s trawberry yoghurt. Mrs S avage ros e s olem nly from the benc h with s urpris ing equanim ity, s tared for a m om ent at the thin pink line whic h ran ac ros s her pale c ream s uit with m atc hing ac c es s ories , and took a deep breath. 'T hank you, dear,' s he s aid, with a s our s m ile. 'T hank you s o very m uc h.' Carlos and I vis ited four s c hools during the two days and m y c olleague s eem ed im m ens ely im pres s ed with the high s tandard of work, the exc ellent teac hing, the ric h and c hallenging environm ents and the friendly c hildren, but he had s om e res ervations when it c am e to the educ ation of the s m all c hildren. 'Y ou know, Gervas e,' he s aid to m e as we drove bac k to Fettles ham at the end of the s ec ond afternoon, 'I do have to s ay that I think the c hildren s tart their form al educ ation in E ngland too early. S m all c hildren s hould be allowed to play. E verything in the world ees new and exc iting for s m all c hildren. W e s hould let them enjoy. Of c ours e, reading and writing and the m athem atic s are im portant, but s o are art and m us ic and dram a and playing with s and and water and everything that little ones s o love to do. I jus t wonder whether thees young c hildren ever get thos e little hands of theirs red with paint or c overed in s tic ky c lay, or if they ever build c as tles in the s and and fill up jars with water and go fis hing for leetle fees hes . It ees jus t a thought.' Carlos 's thoughts about early educ ation s tayed with m e m any weeks after he had returned to S pain. One thing that greatly im pres s ed Carlos was the quality of the educ ation in the s m all s c hools . He had expec ted the c urric ulum to be rather narrow and unadventurous and that the s tandards would be lower than in the larger s c hools . In fac t, he found the oppos ite and bec am e very anim ated. 'T he s m all s c hools are quite ex c eptional,' he told m e on the way bac k to Fettles ham . 'I am very m uc h in favour of the s m all s c hools . T hey are like fam ilies .'

I thought im m ediately of Hawks rill. 'Y ou m ight s hare your obs ervations with Dr Gore at the rec eption this evening,' I s aid. 'I am s ure he would be very interes ted to hear your views on the quality of s m all rural s c hools .' T he S taff Developm ent Centre was at its burnis hed bes t the evening of the rec eption for the foreign ins pec tors . Connie had s urpas s ed hers elf and the whole plac e s parkled. For the gues ts ' arrival, s he had abandoned the pink overall and feather dus ter in favour of a bright floral print dres s and lem on-c oloured c ardigan, enhanc ed by a rope of large orange beads and an extrem ely c olourful brooc h in the s hape of a parrot. Her hair had been rec ently perm ed and c oloured bright c opper. 'I didn't rec ognis e you without your feather dus ter, Connie,' rem arked S idney as he walked with David and m e into the entranc e where s he was s tanding s entinel. 'T o what are you alluring?' as ked Connie. 'I was m erely obs erving how very nic e you look this evening,' burbled S idney. 'T hat's as m ay be. A nyway, there's that S em en wom an looking for you,' s he told him . 'I beg your pardon?' 'T he Frenc h ins pec tor, S em en.' 'Her nam e, Connie, is S im one,' S idney inform ed her. 'S em en, S im one, whatever. I don't know why thes e foreigners have s uc h funny nam es .' S he huffed and turned to m e. 'I've put the food in the lounge area as per ins truc ted but there's no frogs ' legs , s nails , s m elly Frenc h c hees es and the like and there's no fanc y bagatelles , jus t plain Yorks hire baps . It's good s im ple E nglis h food what I've done. A s I s ay, nothing fanc y.' 'S potted Dic k?' enquired David m is c hievous ly. 'W hat?' as ked Connie. 'Good plain E nglis h fare. S potted Dic k? J am roly-poly? Y orks hire pudding? T ripe and onions ? Fis h and c hips ?' 'It's a buffet,' Connie told him , pronounc ing it 'buff-it', 'not a five-c ours e m eal.' T hen, s c owling at David, s he s aid, 'Y ou're getting as bad as him .' 'Ignore them , Connie,' I s aid. 'It s ounds s plendid.' A t this point Dr Gore, ac c om panied by Mrs S avage, joined us . Mrs S avage had c ertainly gone to town with her outfit. S he wore a c los e-fitting m ulberry-c oloured wool s uit, pale lilac c hem is e and m atc hing s ilk s c arf and c ourt s hoes . T he heavy s ilver jewellery s he was wont to wear had been abandoned in favour of delic ate peridot earrings and m atc hing pendant. S he als o wore a s pec tac ular ring s et with the pale green s tones . S he was , as always , im pec c ably m ade up. 'Good evening, good evening, everyone,' s aid the CE O, s m iling and rubbing his hands together. Connie, who had treated everyone in the s am e blunt m anner, m oved forward to welc om e him . He was now on her territory and s he did the greetings here. 'Hello, B rian,' s he s aid. I s aw Mrs S avage winc e. No one in the offic e referred to the Chief E duc ation Offic er by his firs t nam e. It jus t was not done. It was always Dr Gore or 's ir'. However, Connie's fam iliarity never s eem ed to bother Dr Gore. He c ontinued s m iling and rubbing his hands . 'A nd a good evening to you, Connie,' he s aid pleas antly. 'I was very s orry to have heard about the death of your father.' 'Y es , well, he had a good life. B y the way, thank you for your letter of c onvales c enc e. It was m uc h apprec iated.' I c as t Mrs S avage a s ideways glanc e. S he had pulled a fam iliar dis approving fac e. 'A nd how are you, Connie?' as ked the CE O. 'No m ore thoughts of leaving us , I hope?' B efore s he c ould ans wer, he s aid, to no one in partic ular, 'Connie here us ed to c lean m y offic e down in the A nnexe, when I was an educ ation offic er. A lways left it s potles s , did Connie.' 'W ell, it's nic e to be apprec iated,' s he s aid, looking knowingly in S idney's direc tion. 'A nd we were an untidy lot, were we not, Connie?' c ontinued Dr Gore. 'Not as untidy as s om e I c ould m ention,' s he s aid, looking at S idney again. 'W ell, Connie, the Centre is looking s plendid as us ual,' s aid the CE O, 'and I m uc h apprec iate that you have been able to arrange the refres hm ents and have given up an evening to help out.' 'It was m y bingo tonight,' Connie told him . 'I am indeed m os t grateful.' 'A s I was s aying to Mr P hinn, B rian, there's nothing fanc y.' It was Mrs S avage's turn now to rec eive the knowing look. 'Nothing fanc y at all. I c an't be doing with fanc y things .' 'I am s ure that the repas t you have provided, Connie, will be firs t c las s . Now s hall we go in and have a pre-prandial drink with the others ?' 'Oh dear, I've none of that,' s aid Connie quic kly. 'J us t wine, orange juic e or tea. Nobody s aid anything to m e about prandials .' T he evening was a s uc c es s . Dr Gore's addres s to the foreign ins pec tors and the invited headteac hers went down well, Connie's plain E nglis h food was c ons um ed with gus to, a good quantity of wine was drunk and the atm os phere was m os t c onvivial. 'S plendid evening,' enthus ed Dr Gore as he m ade ready to depart. 'Many thanks , Gervas e, for all your hard work and for your s terling efforts , too, B renda. Y ou m ake a form idable team .' I kept a deliberately s traight fac e. Mrs S avage rais ed an eyebrow. 'Our vis itors have been m os t c om plim entary and will return to their res pec tive c ountries , I am s ure, s uitably im pres s ed.' A t this point, Connie m aterialis ed. S he had put on her pink overall when s he had s erved the food - and it c las hed horribly with her new c opper hair-do. 'Many thanks , Connie, for your help,' s aid Dr Gore. 'A s effic ient as ever.' A s Connie blus hed prettily and preened a little, I c ould s ee out of the c orner of m y eye that Mrs S avage was looking thunderous . 'S orry to butt in,' s aid Connie, 'but I was jus t c om ing to tell Mr P hinn that m y s teps what'd gone m is s ing las t autum n have s uddenly turned up. You were right, Mr P hinn, the vic ar had them . He kept them to put up the Chris tm as dec orations in the c hurc h, and s om eone els e tidied them away into the bac k of the ves try.' 'T hat's good news , Connie,' I s aid. 'B ut a bit late for that c reeper to be pruned now.' 'No, it's all right. T he c hap from the P arks Departm ent c am e ages ago with his own s et of s teps , and he c ut that c litoris right bac k.' 'W ell, the E IE I vis it s eem ed to go very well,' s aid S idney. It was S aturday m orning and we were s itting in the lounge at the S taff Developm ent Centre having jus t s aid our farewells to the three ins pec tors . 'S ignor Toria was delightful,' s aid David, who looked a whole lot happier than he had done for weeks . 'He's invited m e over to Italy, you know, to s ee the s c hools there. Florenc e. Firenz e!' he s aid expans ively, waving his arm s in the air. 'He s aid the s tandard of num erac y was higher in our c ounty s c hools than in Italy. I m us t s ay I felt quite vindic ated. Yes , he was abs olutely delightful and s poke perfec t E nglis h. A fter W els h, I think that Italian is the m os t m ellifluous of languages . T hey don't have a problem with s pelling in Italy bec aus e Italian, bas ed on Latin, of c ours e, is a very logic al and phonetic language. V ery m uc h like W els h, you know. W hy c an't E nglis h be like that, Gervas e?' 'Oh, let's not go down that road again, pleas e,' begged S idney. 'A c tually, he felt very m uc h at hom e, did Mario,' s aid David. 'I took him to W illingforth P rim ary and he thought he had arrived at an Italian s c hool. T here was a c hild s houting out at the gate: "M ama mia! M ama mia!" I had s om e diffic ulty in explaining to him that the boy was not, in fac t, s peaking Italian but trying to get his m other's attention on the other s ide of the road where s he had jus t arrived. "Mum , I'm 'ere! Mum , I'm 'ere! " W e did laugh,' c huc kled David. 'I am delighted that you are bac k to your c heerful old s elf, David,' rem arked S idney. 'Y ou have been as m is erable as a joc key with haem orrhoids , lately.' 'P leas e, pleas e don't m ention haem orrhoids ,' I s aid, thinking of m y s tay in hos pital. 'Y ou haven't got what m y dear old W els h grandm other c alled "problem s in your parts of dis honour", have you, Gervas e?' as ked David. 'No, I haven't,' I s aid quic kly. 'T erribly painful are haem orrhoids ,' s aid S idney. I c hanged the s ubjec t. 'A nd how was S im one?' I as ked him . 'S he s eem ed very am iable.' 'A m iable? A m iable?' s c offed S idney. 'Hardly the m os t appropriate adjec tive to des c ribe a wom an of s uc h outs tanding beauty and c om pos ure. S im one was exquis ite.' 'A nd how did s he c ope with the Y orks hire dialec t?' I as ked. 'I had to trans late a great deal of what the teac hers s aid to her, let alone what the c hildren s aid,' S idney told us , leaning bac k on his c hair. 'T here were a num ber of little gem s , like the c hild who inform ed her that the c rayon s he wanted for her drawing was not in the tin: "T intintin." A t one point s he was as ked by a little lad if we were together: 'Oo are tha wi', are tha wi' 'im ?' S he jus t s tood and s hrugged in that Gallic way they have. In another s c hool, the teac her was des c ribing the death of A dm iral Nels on, how he was s hot by a Frenc h s niper and lay dying in Captain Hardy's arm s . One c hild piped up with the ques tion: "A nd 'ow did 'ardy die?" S he hadn't a c hanc e, poor Madem ois elle de Marbot.' 'Never m ind how s he got on with the language,' s aid David. 'How on earth did s he put up with you?' 'A c tually,' s aid S idney, 'we got on great guns , though I have to adm it s he did have a few diffic ulties apprec iating m y s ens e of hum our.' 'Does anyone apprec iate your s ens e of hum our, S idney?' as ked David. 'W ell, I c ertainty hope that Gervas e does ,' he replied. 'W hat do you m ean?' I as ked. 'Let m e introduc e you to s om eone, m y dear friend and c olleague,' he s aid. T hen, in a s trong A m eric an drawl, he c ontinued. 'T his is B rews ter - J ohn K . B rews ter - and I'm with a delegation of Quakers from the S tates for the International Convention at York. I'd like to m ake you a propos ition about the m eeting hous e on your land.' 'S idney! ' I s houted, the truth dawning. 'Y ou're a mons ter!'

24 'A re you s ure you'll be all right?' I as ked. It was the firs t night of The S ound of M us ic . Chris tine was intending to c om e with m e but had been feeling rather tired and the thought of two and a half hours in the s am e pos ition on a s m all s eat in a s tuffy theatre, lis tening to nuns c lim bing m ountains , was not that appealing to her. S he had told m e, patting her very large s tom ac h, that s he had her very own m ountain, without c lim bing any others . 'I'll be fine. Really,' s he s aid. 'B ut I will be happier s taying at hom e.' 'I don't s uppos e anybody would notic e if I don't m ake an appearanc e,' I s aid. 'A fter all, I only have a c ouple of lines . I s uppos e Ray c ould fill in although he would rather s wim in the uniform and, as I s aid before, I c an't quite s ee him as an S S offic er. A re you s ure you don't want m e to s tay?' 'No! ' s he s aid firm ly. 'From what you've told m e of your produc er, he would be in a real s tate if a m em ber of the c as t failed to turn up. I'm going to have a hot bath and go to bed with a c up of c oc oa and a rom antic novel.' 'If you're s ure.' 'Do you want m e to throw s om ething at you?' s he s aid. 'Go! I'll be fine.' A s it turned out, how wrong s he was . T he evening of the firs t perform anc e of The S ound of M us ic would bec om e a part of P hinn folklore. Des pite the fac t that all the c as t had arrived on tim e, the orc hes tra had its full c om plem ent and the Civic T heatre was beginning to fill up, Ray was in a panic , buzzing around like a jam -c razed was p. T he m otif on his T -s hirt s eem ed partic ularly apt for his s tate of m ind: 'I us ed to have a handle on life - then it broke off.' T hat evening, he s eem ed to have a handle on very little, and he trans m itted his twitc hy nerves to s om e m em bers of the c as t. W hen he s aw m y S S uniform , with a c hes t full of m edals , hanging up in the dres s ing room , the s hiny blac k boots and the frighteningly large Luger pis tol in a leather hols ter, next to his s habby blac k s uit and c rum pled trilby hat, Mr Furnival felt quite aggrieved. 'I don't s ee why I c an't have a uniform ,' he told the produc er. 'He's got a uniform and he's got a lot s m aller part than I have.' He s ounded like a petulant c hild. 'T hat's bec aus e you're a Gauleiter and Gervas e is an S S offic er,' explained Ray. 'I told you that at the dres s rehears al.' 'I think I would look a lot m ore threatening and s inis ter if I was in a blac k uniform ,' pers is ted Mr Furnival. 'I think you look quite threatening and s inis ter enough in the blac k s uit and hat,' s aid Ray. 'T his is what I wear for funerals ,' his vexed c om panion told him . 'E nough s aid,' rem arked Ray. 'I thought I'd be in uniform ,' c om plained Mr Furnival. 'I wear this blac k s uit every day of m y working life. I really do think I des erve a c hange.' 'Y ou are not wearing a uniform ,' s aid Raym ond angrily, 'and that is that! ' 'W ell, what about the gun? Can I have the gun?' 'No, you c an't.' 'Can I at leas t have a T yrolean hat ins tead of the trilby?' 'Look, George! ' s napped Ray. 'T he direc tions s ay quite s pec ific ally that Herr Zeller wears a blac k s uit with Nazi em blem on his lapel and not a uniform and he c ertainly wouldn't be wearing a T yrolean hat. How threatening do you think he would look in a T yrolean bloody hat?' 'W here's m y Nazi em blem for m y lapel, then? I haven't even got a Nazi em blem for m y lapel,' m oaned Mr Furnival, in no way m ollified. He pointed to m y uniform . 'He's got m ore m edals on his c hes t than General Montgom ery.' 'W ell, im provis e,' s ighed Ray. 'Im provis e. I'm s ure in your line of work there's a lot of im provis ation.' 'A nd what's that s uppos ed to m ean?' blus tered Mr Furnival. 'Us e your Rotary Club pin,' Ray told him . Mr Furnival ballooned with anger. 'Us e m y Rotary Club pin! Us e m y Rotary Club pin! You m us t be m ad. I'll have you know the Rotarians would have been the firs t to have been rounded up in this c ountry if Hitler had won. W e s tand for Fellows hip, Friends hip and S ervic e A bove S elf, not world dom ination. I'm not going on s tage with m y Rotary Club pin dis played for all to s ee. T here's the Dis tric t Governor in the audienc e. He'd have a s eizure.' 'S tic k a s was tika over the top, then,' s aid Ray. B efore Mr Furnival c ould res pond, a girl playing the part of a young nun arrived at the door of the dres s ing room with her c os tum e over her arm . S he was obvious ly very dis tres s ed. 'Com e along, B ernic e,' c hivvied Ray, 'you s hould be in c os tum e by now.' 'Mi m am s ays I c an't be in it,' replied the girl s adly. 'Can't be in it! ' exc laim ed Ray. 'W hat does s he m ean, you c an't be in it?' 'S he s ays I c an't be in it,' repeated the girl. 'S he has left it a trifle late, has n't s he,' s aid Ray. 'It's opening night.' 'It's when I told her what I was playing,' s aid the girl, c learly very em barras s ed. 'S he s aid s he didn't know there was any of them in The S ound of M us ic and s he does n't want m e playing that s ort of wom an.' 'W hat s ort of wom an?' enquired the produc er, m ys tified. 'T hat s ort,' replied the girl, looking dec idedly em barras s ed. 'B ernic e, darling,' s aid Raym ond, trying to keep c alm . 'I am not a m ind-reader. I c annot read your thoughts . W hat does s he m ean, "that s ort of wom an"? S he does n't want you to play a nun? Has s he s om e religious objec tion?' 'Y ou s aid I was to be' - at this point the girl whis pered theatric ally - 'a pros titute.' 'A pros titute! ' gas ped Ray. 'Has the world gone c om pletely m ad? W here in The S ound of M us ic is there a pros titute?' 'Y ou s aid I was one.' 'Read m y lips , B ernic e. I s aid you were a pos tulant, a c andidate for the religious life, a trainee nun, not a pros titute.' 'S o I'm not a pros titute?' as ked the girl. 'No, B ernic e, you are not a pros titute,' s aid Ray. 'Y ou are a pos tulant. Now, you ring your dear m other and tell her the good news and then get c hanged.' Ray flopped onto the c hair bes ide m e. 'W hatever next?' he as ked. He did not have long to wait. T he rather s potty young m an playing Rolf entered the fray. He waddled into the c hanging room s lowly and c arefully as if he had a ferret down his trous ers . 'Ray, do I hav e to wear thes e leather s horts ?' he as ked, s uc king in his breath as if he had ac ute indiges tion. 'T hey're c utting off m y c irc ulation.' T he produc er looked heavenwards and s ighed heavily. 'Y es , you have to wear the s horts , Fras er.' 'T hey are inc redibly tight. I c an hardly m ove.' 'T hey're lederhos en. T hey're s uppos ed to be tight.' 'It's like having two tourniquets around m y legs . I have diffic ulty walking in thes e s horts , never m ind danc ing. T hey really are very c ons tric ting and as for going to the toilet -' 'T hey'll give,' replied Ray. 'T hey're m ade of leather. J us t m ove about a bit and -' He s topped m id-s entenc e as Mrs Cleaver-Canning s ailed pas t the door in her c apac ious blac k Mother A bbes s c os tum e, hung with a huge s ilver c ros s . S he was like a galleon in full s ail with the wind behind it. Ray s m ac ked his hand to his forehead dram atic ally and looked as if he was about to s woon. 'Margot, darling, c ould I have a s m all word?' he s houted after her. Mrs Cleaver-Canning retrac ed her s teps and m ade a s tately entranc e. 'Y es , Raym ond?' s he as ked. 'W hat is it?' 'Oh m y! ' Ray exc laim ed. 'W hatever have you got on your fac e?' 'My m ake-up,' s he replied s im ply. 'W hat do you im agine I've got on m y fac e?' 'Don't you feel you've gone jus t a teens y-weens y bit overboard with the greas epaint?' 'Not at all.' 'Y ou c annot go on s tage with that fac e, Margot,' m oaned Ray. 'Y ou look like a Liverpool tart.' 'I beg your pardon, Raym ond! ' s he replied, giving him a lem on-s uc king grim ac e. 'Don't you feel, jus t a s m idgen, that s c arlet c upid-bow lips , bright blue eye-s hadow and c rim s on rouge are a touc h out of c harac ter for a nun? Y ou're s uppos ed to be the Mother A bbes s , not a wom an of ill-repute looking for s ailors on the doc ks ide.' 'I deeply res ent that analogy, Raym ond,' res ponded Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'T his , for your inform ation, is m y norm al m ake-up, s lightly exaggerated for dram atic purpos es , and I have not the s lightes t intention of rem oving it. A nd another thing, there is no pos s ibility, no pos s ibility at all, of W inc o trim m ing his m ous tac he. It m ay look s om ewhat out of c harac ter, I have to adm it, for a Germ an adm iral, but he has had that handlebar s inc e he was a pilot offic er in the RA F and I don't -' 'Of c ours e, you don't! W hy s hould you?' s napped Ray petulantly. 'W hy s hould anyone lis ten to m e? I'm jus t the produc er after all. My opinion c ounts for nothing.' He then pus hed pas t her and s trutted off, c om plaining to him s elf. 'I've jus t about had enough.' 'He'll be fine, onc e the c urtain ris es ,' Mrs Cleaver-Canning told m e c alm ly, adjus ting her wim ple in the m irror. 'One has to m ake allowanc es . Opening night nerves , that's all. He was the s am e las t year when we did Carous el. Nearly fainted with the s tres s . It's always the c as e with thes e c reative people. T hey're terribly tem peram ental. Charles , in m y flower-arranging c lub, is jus t the s am e. If his arrangem ent is not exac tly right he nearly breaks a blood ves s el. Now, c om e along, Mr P hinn. Y ou m us t s ee W inc o in his Germ an adm iral's uniform . He looks quite das hing.' A lthough I s ay it m ys elf, the Fettles ham Literary P layers put on the perform anc e of their lives . Of c ours e, it was Mrs Cleaver-Canning who s tole the s how, filling the hall with her deep, res onant c ontralto voic e. Following the firs t rendering of 'Clim b E very Mountain', the wholly enthus ias tic audienc e dem anded a repris e to whic h s he grac ious ly ac c eded. E veryone joined the von T rapps with 'E delweis s ', they applauded loudly when the c hildren danc ed, c heered when the Nazis were foiled and, m uc h to Mr Furnival's delight, loudly his s ed the Gauleiter eac h tim e he m ade an appearanc e. W hen the c urtain fell Ray danc ed onto the s tage, ec s tatic . 'W onderful! Marvellous ! Magnific ent! S uperlative! Margot, you were a tour de forc e!' he c ried, em brac ing Mrs Cleaver-Canning - not that his little arm s reac hed round m ore than half her c ons iderable s ize. 'Oh m y dears , I think I'm going to c ry. You were all s o s o good.' A ll the players were m illing around on the s tage, re-living the perform anc e, exc hanging rec ollec tions , laughing, when the theatre m anager, a tall m an with a thic k blac k m ous tac he and dres s ed in a dinner jac ket and bow tie, appeared from the wings , like the pantom im e villain. 'Is there a Mr P in here?' he c alled loudly. 'W ho?' as ked Ray. 'A Mr P in? I was told there was a Mr P in in the c as t.' 'T here's a Mr P hinn.' I s aid. 'T hat's m e.' 'Is your wife having a baby?' 'Y es , s he is ,' I replied, m y heart beginning to pound. 'T here's been a phone c all.' 'A phone c all?' I repeated faintly. 'From your wife.' 'Oh Lord, what did s he s ay?' I as ked, m y s tom ac h c hurning. 'S he's gone to the hos pital.' 'W hat? W hen?' My s tom ac h was doing kangaroo jum ps . E veryone on the s tage was hus hed, lis tening to the little dram a. 'S he told m e to tell you not to worry. S he's all right but her waters have broken and would you get there as s oon as you c an.' 'W hen was this phone c all?' as ked Mrs Cleaver-Canning angrily, pus hing her way through people to where I was s tanding with the theatre m anager. 'A bout half an hour ago,' he told her c as ually. 'W hat! ' s he his s ed. T he m an s eem ed to quail in front of her vas t pres enc e. 'I... I... would have s aid s ... s ... s om ething but I didn't want to interfere with the p... p... perform anc e.' 'Y ou s illy m an! ' s napped Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'Did it not enter your tiny little head that it was im portant? His wife's having a baby! ' 'I m us t go at onc e,' I s aid, feeling all hot and flus tered. Mrs Cleaver-Canning, res ting a c hubby hand on m y arm , s aid c alm ly, 'Now, c alma, Gervas e, deep breaths , deep breaths . W om en have had babies before. Your wife will be fine. Now, you are in no fit s tate to drive. W inc o will take you to the hos pital in the Merc edes . W inc o! ' s he bellowed. Her hus band appeared, as if on c ue, from behind a piec e of m ountain s c enery. 'Here,' he s houted bac k. 'B ring the c ar around. W e are taking Mr P hinn to the hos pital.' 'Oh dear, is he unwell?' Mrs Cleaver-Canning s ighed. 'J us t fetc h the c ar, W inc o.' 'Righto,' he replied. 'I had better c hange out of this c os tum e. I c an't very well -' 'T here's not enough tim e,' his wife interrupted. 'W e leave at onc e. Com e along W inc o. Get a m ove on.' W e had hardly c rawled out of the theatre c ar park, held up by people going hom e after the perform anc e, when Mrs Cleaver-Canning prodded W inc o in the bac k. 'P ut your foot down, for goodnes s s ake, W inc o,' s he c om m anded. 'Chop c hop! ' 'B ut you're always telling m e to s low down,' he growled. 'W ell, this tim e I'm telling you to get a m ove on and don't s pare the hors es .' 'Righto,' he replied, s lam m ing his foot down on the ac c elerator and s c reec hing away in a c loud of exhaus t s m oke. A nyone s harp-eyed enough to have c aught s ight of the oc c upants of the Merc edes that evening as it s ped through the c entre of Fettles ham in the direc tion of Fettles ham Royal Infirm ary would have thought they were halluc inating: an ageing Germ an adm iral with a handlebar m ous tac he was at the wheel of the c ar, a heavily bem edalled S S offic er was in the pas s enger s eat, and an overweight nun with c rim s on lips and s ky-blue eye-s hadow was s itting in the bac k ges tic ulating. W e hadn't long been on Infirm ary Road before we heard the s iren and s aw the flas hing blue light. 'P ull over, W inc o,' ordered Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'A nd let m e do the talking.' 'Righto.' Mom ents later, a polic e patrolm an was at the driver's window. 'Good evening, offic er,' s aid Mrs Cleaver-Canning from the bac k s eat. 'A h! Good evening, S is ter,' replied the polic em an, trans ferring his offic ial gaze into the bac k of the c ar. If he was s urpris ed to s ee s uc h an extraordinary trio in the c ar, he c ertainly didn't s how it and m aintained a perfec tly s traight fac e. He m us t, I s uppos ed, have c om e ac ros s s om e pretty bizarre s ituations in his tim e. 'Mother A bbes s , in fac t. B ut we are in rather a hurry,' Mrs Cleaver-Canning explained. 'Y ou are indeed, Mother,' s aid the polic em an, with jus t a trac e of a s m irk on his fac e. He looked at W inc o. 'W orried that you m ight m is s the boat, A dm iral?' 'Offic er,' s aid Mrs Cleaver-Canning, a wide s m ile on her c rim s on lips , 'this gentlem an in the front is about to bec om e a father.' 'Congratulations ,' s aid the polic em an, taking a notebook from his poc ket. 'Have you c hildren, offic er?' s he as ked. 'I'm s orry, Mother?' E ac h tim e he us ed the word, he ac c entuated it a trifle. 'I s aid, have you any c hildren?' 'I have, yes . I have a little girl.' 'A nd were you pres ent when s he was born?' 'I was indeed, Mother, and a very happy oc c as ion it was , too,' he replied good-hum ouredly. 'W ell, the wife of the gentlem an in the blac k uniform is about to give birth, im m inently, in fac t, and he would very m uc h like to be there for the happy event.' I was getting agitated by the tim e that was being was ted. Y et I dared not interrupt for fear of turning the polic em an agains t us . 'I s ee,' s aid the polic em an. He turned his attention to W inc o. 'A re you aware, s ir, that the s peed lim it in this area of the town -' 'A nd that is why we were travelling at s peed,' c ontinued Mrs Cleaver-Canning, 'in order for him to get to the hos pital on tim e. His wife has already gone into labour. T he birth m ight be m om ents away. W e were aware of the s peed lim it but, as a father yours elf, I am s ure you c an unders tand, offic er, the urgenc y of getting to the hos pital.' 'I apprec iate that, Mother, but -' he began. 'A c tually, I'm not really a nun.'

'Y ou don't s ay,' s aid the polic em an. 'W e are m em bers of the c as t of The S ound of M us ic whic h is being perform ed at the Civic T heatre all this week. W e are in c os tum e bec aus e we hadn't the tim e to c hange when the c all c am e from the hos pital.' T he polic em an's fac e lit up. 'T hat's m y favourite m us ic al, The S ound of M us ic ,' he s aid. 'I was a von T rapp when we did it at s c hool.' 'Really,' s aid W inc o s uddenly. 'W ho did you play?' 'Never m ind that now, W inc o,' his wife s aid. 'W ith this offic er's perm is s ion, we really do need to be on our way to the hos pital without further delay.' 'If you would like to follow m e, s ir,' s aid the polic em an, 'I'll give you an es c ort.' 'T hank you s o m uc h,' s aid Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'I am a pers onal friend of the Chief Cons table, you know, and I s hall m os t c ertainly m ention to him how very helpful you have been.' T he m aternity wing of Fettles ham Royal Infirm ary appeared partic ularly bus y when we arrived. T here were m en with flowers , wom en with fruit, over-exc ited c hildren who s hould have been in bed ages before, porters wheeling trolleys , doc tors with c lipboards , nurs es s c urrying hither and thither. It s eem ed that the whole c ounty was giving birth that night. Mrs Cleaver-Canning had s wept through the doors and into the m elee in a queenly m anner and headed for the rec eption des k, with m e following c los ely behind, W inc o bringing up the rear. It was c lear s he was in c harge. A ll c onvers ation c eas ed when the m ajes tic figure in a nun's habit s trode to the front of a s m all queue and announc ed, 'If you would be s o kind, this is an em ergenc y.' 'Y ou go ahead, S is ter,' s aid the elderly wom an at the front of the queue. 'I think you do a m arvellous job. I was taught by nuns .' 'T hank you s o m uc h,' s aid Mrs Cleaver-Canning. T hen, fac ing the s tartled m an behind the rec eption des k s he as ked, 'Could you tell us where Mrs P hinn is , pleas e? S he was brought in earlier this evening in labour.' T he rec eptionis t ran his finger down a lis t of nam es . 'No T hinnis here,' he s aid s haking his head. 'No, no! P hinn. T he nam e is P hinn! ' 'T here's no P hinn here either.' 'T here's no "f" in P hinn,' Mrs Cleaver-Canning told him . 'I beg your pardon, S is ter! ' he s pluttered. 'T here's really no need for that s ort of language.' 'W hen I s aid there is no letter "f" in P hinn,' s he told him , 'I m eant the nam e begins with a "ph" as in P hilip. P -H-I-N-N.' 'Oh, oh, I s ee,' he s aid, looking greatly relieved. 'P hinn with a "ph". Y es , here it is . Firs t nam e Chris tine. Chris tine P atric ia P hinn. S he c am e in earlier this evening. S he's in W ard 6.' 'Has the baby arrived yet?' I as ked, m y heart in m y m outh. T he m an s tared for a m om ent at the uniform . 'W hat?' he as ked. 'T he baby, has the baby arrived yet?' 'T his is the worried father,' Mrs Cleaver-Canning inform ed him . 'I c an't s ay,' the rec eptionis t told m e, s till eyeing the uniform . 'Y ou'd better go s traight down there now. W ard 6.' 'Y ou've been m arvellous ,' I told Mrs Cleaver-Canning and W inc o. 'T hank you s o m uc h. Y ou really don't need to wait.' 'Nons ens e! ' s aid Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'W e would like to have a progres s report firs t. Y ou hurry off to s ee your wife. W inc o and I will wait.' 'Little S is ters of the P oor,' I heard the elderly wom an inform Mrs Cleaver-Canning as I headed in the direc tion of the wards . 'I was taught by Little S is ters of the P oor.' I jus t had tim e to hear the reply. 'My dear, I am not a nun but if I were to c ontem plate entering the religious life it would not be as a Little S is ter of the P oor. I am neither little nor, thank God, poor.' I was jus t in tim e. Chris tine was being wheeled to the delivery room when I rus hed down the c orridor in s earc h of W ard 6. I was in s uc h a panic , hot, flus tered, out of breath, that I ran s traight pas t her and only when I heard her voic e did I s top and retrac e m y s teps . 'I'm here! ' s he c ried. 'T hank God! ' I s aid, bending down and giving her a hug. 'A re you all right, darling?' 'S he's fine,' s aid the nurs e who was by the s ide of the trolley. 'T his is the hus band, I pres um e?' 'T his is the hus band,' Chris tine s aid. My panic fled as I looked down at the s m iling m other-to-be. S he looked c alm and s erene. Her blue eyes s hone, her blonde hair fell about her s houlders like a golden c urtain. S he looked ros y-c heeked and s o beautiful. I s queezed her hand. 'A re you ready?' I as ked. 'A s ready as I'll ever be,' s he replied s oftly. 'T ypic al m an,' s aid the nurs e. 'Leaves it to the las t m inute, when it's all over, bar the s houting. If only m en had to have babies . I s uppos e you want to be in at the birth.' 'Of c ours e,' I s aid. 'W ell, if you faint, nobody will bother with you. I've got a far m ore im portant pers on to deal with.' 'I won't faint,' I s aid c onfidently. 'A ye, bigger m en than you have s aid that.' S he c aught s ight of the uniform . 'Didn't anyone tell you the war is over? W hat on earth are you wearing? No, don't tell m e. I probably wouldn't believe you, anyway. J us t c over yours elf up or you'll frighten the nurs es . You need to get a gown and m as k before you c om e into the delivery room , and get thos e boots c overed up. I'll s how you where they are in a m om ent. A nd keep out of m y way.' 'Y es nurs e,' I s aid m eekly. A t ten-thirty, Ric hard Les lie P hinn was born, weighing in at 7 lbs 1 oz. A s I c radled him in the c rook of m y arm and s troked his little head, m y eyes began to fill. He was s o tiny and delic ate, red as a radis h, with a s m all round fac e, s oft wis ps of golden hair and great blue eyes . He was his m other's s on all right. 'Ric hard Les lie?' s aid the nurs e, giving m e a wry s m ile. 'Is that what you're c alling him ?' 'T hat's right,' I told her. 'Ric hard after m y father and Les lie after m y wife's .' 'Oh,' s he s aid, 'I thought you would c all him A dolf.' B ec aus e little Ric hard Les lie had arrived prem aturely, Chris tine s tayed in hos pital for the next few days . I vis ited her and m y s on every day that week, us ually in the early evening before I went down to the theatre for the evening perform anc e. Harold had im m ediately told m e to take s om e tim e off, but I was happy to work during the day while Chris tine was s till in the Royal Infirm ary, planning to be at hom e the week they returned. On the Friday, we s at together with our c hild between us , m arvelling at his tiny fingers and toes , his head of s oft s ilky blond hair and his great blue eyes . A lthough a little tired, Chris tine looked radiant. W e were both s o happy. 'Motherhood really s uits you,' I told her. 'I'd like another five, pleas e.' 'W e'll talk about that when we get hom e,' s he s aid. T he baby s tirred. 'He's a little tinker, this one,' s he s aid, s troking the baby's c heek. 'He c ries for his m ilk and then takes ages getting s tarted. T he nurs es are being very kind, and helping as m uc h as pos s ible, but it is hard work.' 'I'll have a s trong word with him ,' I s aid. 'W e s hould s tart as we m ean to go on.' I s troked the baby's head gently. 'A re you lis tening to m e, young m an,' I s aid. 'Y ou m us t drink plenty of m ilk. T hen you'll grow to be big and s trong.' T he baby s c rewed up his little fac e and gave a great burp. 'T here's your ans wer,' laughed Chris tine. 'I've already bought him a book,' I told her. 'A book! ' s he exc laim ed. 'W ell, we'll have to get him reading s oon. T hen he'll need s om e building bloc ks and a c olouring book and a paintbox and a s and pit in the garden and -' 'S o s peaks the s c hool ins pec tor,' s aid Chris tine, s m iling. 'I want our s on to have the very bes t s tart in life,' I s aid. 'T he very bes t.' A s I looked down at our baby, s nuggling up to his m other, I thought of little Matty and the other s ad, fragile c hildren whom I had c om e ac ros s on m y travels as a s c hool ins pec tor; c hildren who were neglec ted, dis paraged, dam aged and s om etim es abus ed, c hildren who would never know the warm th, enc ouragem ent and love of a good hom e. 'P enny for them ,' s aid Chris tine. 'I'm jus t thinking how very luc ky I am ,' I s aid, and kis s ed her m os t tenderly. 'I s ee you've been dem obbed,' s aid the ward s is ter, c om ing in at that m om ent. 'I'm s orry?' 'Out of uniform .' 'Oh, that. I'm in a play. I'm not really an S S offic er, you know.' 'Y ou do s urpris e m e,' s he s aid, exam ining the c hart at the foot of the bed. 'I'm a s c hool ins pec tor ac tually.' 'Oh, is there a differenc e?' s he s aid. 'I s han't res pond to that,' I told her. 'T he doc tor's been and everything is fine,' s aid the s is ter. 'Mother and baby are doing very well, s o you c an take them hom e when you're ready. Now, do try and pers evere with the breas t-feeding, Mrs P hinn. T ric ky Dic kie will s oon get a tas te for it and then there'll be no s topping him .' A s Chris tine was pac king the few things s he had in her beds ide c abinet, I pic ked the c lipboard off the bottom of the bed. T he s heet of paper attac hed to it read 'Fettles ham Royal Infirm ary/Maternity Unit'. B elow was 'B A B Y : Ric hard Les lie P hinn. W E IGHT: 7lbs 10z.' T hen, at the bottom was s pac e for 'DOCT OR'S COMME NT '. I was rem oving the s heet of paper when the ward s is ter c am e in and c aught m e red-handed. 'W hat are you up to?' s he as ked. 'May I have this , pleas e?' 'No, you m ay not. It's hos pital property.' 'Oh pleas e,' I begged. 'It's m ore than m y job's worth.' 'P leas e.' 'W hy do you want it, anyway?' 'I want to keep it until m y s on is twenty-one,' I told her s erious ly, 'and on that birthday I want to pres ent it to him in a gilt fram e, s aying: "W hen I am dead and gone, Ric hard, perhaps you m ight s om etim es look upon that s c rap of paper in the golden fram e and rem em ber this very s pec ial day, your c om ing of age, and I hope you m ight rem em ber a father and a m other who were s o very proud of you and loved you m ore than any other parents loved a s on. You s ee, it's the firs t thing anybody wrote about you." I s hall tell him , "It is the doc tor's c om m ent written during your firs t week of life." You s ee, s is ter, that is why I want to keep this s heet of paper.' 'Oh,' s aid the nurs e, who had lis tened open-m outhed to m y c om m entary. 'How lovely. Y ou're m aking m e c ry. A nd what does the doc tor s ay?' S m iling, I pas s ed over the piec e of paper s o s he c ould read what the doc tor had written: 'P oor s uc ker.'

A P arent's P ray er A lways believe in yours elf. P rom is e always to be c om pas s ionate. A pprec iate that you m ake m is takes . Rec ognis e that I do too. E ntrus t m e with your worries . Never doubt that I will s upport you when you need m e. T alk to m e about the things you find diffic ult. S hare your dream s . P leas e unders tand that I c an have m oods jus t like you. Rec eive a little advic e now and again. A c c ept that I s om etim es get things wrong. Y ou need to help m e to get things right. E njoy your life. Realis e that I love you without res ervation.