Head Over Heels in the Dales

P E NGUIN B OOK S HE A D OV E R HE E LS IN T HE DA LE S '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 and hones t' E x pres s on S unday '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 on E s ther, BBC 2 'A natural s toryteller, he c om bines the tim ing of a profes s ional c om edian with the palpable warm th and the ability to deliver a m es s age that is m uc h m ore than jus t a s eries of jokes ' The Times E duc ational S upplement 'Funny, touc hing and entertaining' Daily E x pres s 'Gentle and warm , with a wry s ens e of hum our, his s tyle has been rightly c om pared to J am es Herriot. Y ou c annot es c ape his enthus ias m for young people and the im portanc e he plac es on good teac hers ' Y ork s hire P os t

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Gervas e P hinn is a teac her, freelanc e lec turer, author, poet, s c hool ins pec tor, educ ational c ons ultant, and vis iting profes s or of educ ation - but none of thes e is m ore im portant to him than his fam ily. Over the years Gervas e taught in a range of s c hools before m oving to North Y orks hire, where he s pent ten years as a s c hool ins pec tor. A s well as writing for adults , Gervas e is als o a s uc c es s ful c hildren's author publis hed by P uffin. Gervas e P hinn lives with his fam ily near Donc as ter. 'Greetings from Gervas e' is a quarterly em ail with all the lates t news from Gervas e P hinn. T o s ign up, go to www.penguin.c o.uk/s ubs c ribe and enter your em ail addres s . T hen tic k the box m arked 'Gervas e P hinn' and fill in your details to be added to Gervas e's lis t.

HEAD OVER HEELS IN THE DALES Gerv as e P hinn

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), 90 E glinton A venue E as t, S uite 700, T oronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y 3 (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), 67 A pollo Drive, Ros edale, North S hore 0632, 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, J ohannes burg 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 2002 P ublis hed in P enguin B ooks 2003 23 Copyright (c ) Gervas e P hinn, 2002 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: 978-0-14-192504-2

For J enny Dereham my ev er-patient editor, and dear friend

Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 For Connie

Acknowledgement T he poem 'S c hool V is itor' (oppos ite) is taken from The Day Our Teac her W ent B atty , publis hed by P uffin B ooks (2002).

S chool V isitor Good m orning, Mr Manning, Do pleas e take a c hair. A c up of tea is on its way, A re you c om fortable there? I m us t s ay that your letter Caught m e unprepared. T he c hildren are s o nervous , A nd the s taff - quite frankly - s c ared. Now I think you'll find the pupils here Really try their bes t. T he reading's good, the writing's neat Feel free to give a tes t. I know this is a little s c hool B ut we do s trive for perfec tion. I m us t s ay that we've never had A thorough s c hool ins pec tion. Oh, you're not the s c hool ins pec tor? A nd Manning's not your nam e? Y ou c am e about the toilets A nd the bloc ked-up kitc hen drain?

1 'Could you tell m e how to s pell "s ex", pleas e?' T he s peaker was a flaxen-haired, angelic -fac ed girl of about s ix with wide innoc ent eyes and a c om plexion a m odel would die for. 'I... b... b... b... beg your pardon?' I s tuttered. I was s itting in the c orner of the infant c las s room of S taplem oor County P rim ary S c hool on a bright S eptem ber m orning, the s ec ond week into the new s c hool term , there to obs erve the firs t les s on of the day. T he c hildren had jus t s ettled down to write their s tories when the little angel approac hed m e, paper in hand, penc il pois ed. '"S ex." Could you s pell "s ex" for m e, pleas e?' s he repeated, s m iling widely. I had been a County Ins pec tor of S c hools in Y orks hire now for a little over two years and during that tim e I thought I had bec om e ac c us tom ed to the prec oc ious young c hildren I had m et. I had been delighted by their hum our, intrigued by their res pons es to m y ques tions and am us ed by their s harp obs ervations on life. B ut on a few rare oc c as ions , like this one, I had been c om pletely los t for words . My c olleague and im m ediate s uperior, Dr Harold Y eats , had warned m e early on in m y c areer about s uc h potentially hazardous s ituations . He had told m e, that when fac ed with an inquis itive c hild who as ks a tric ky ques tion or rais es an em barras s ing topic , to s m ile widely, nod s agely and be as evas ive as pos s ible. 'It's like fis hing for trout, Gervas e,' he had onc e c onfided in m e. 'Y ou need to know when to let out the line and when to reel it in. Give it plenty of s pac e, let it tire its elf out and then it will s top thras hing. Don't be too quic k to explain things to young c hildren - you c ould get yours elf into hot water. J us t lis ten and take your tim e.' I took Harold's advic e. 'W hy do you want m e to s pell that word for you?' I whis pered. 'I need it for m y s tory,' replied the c hild. 'W hat is your s tory about?' I as ked gingerly. 'I jus t want you to s pell "s ex".' 'Y es , but c ould you tell m e a little about your s tory?' 'W hy?' T his was getting harder. 'W ell, I would like you to.' T he c hild s hook her head and breathed out heavily. S he ans wered m e in a voic e whic h had an exas perated edge to it. 'If you m us t know, it's about a little blac k beetle who lives in a big, big garden and is s ad and lonely and nobody loves him . A ll the other little c reatures have friends but he is all by him s elf. He jus t s its there all day long on the c om pos t heap feeling really, really s ad and wis hing he had s om eone to play with. T hen, one day, a lady beetle c lim bs onto the c om pos t heap -' 'A lady beetle?' I s aid. 'T hat's right, a lady beetle.' I had a glim m ering of what was c om ing next. 'I s ee,' I s ighed, frantic ally thinking of the bes t way to get out of what was likely to bec om e a very unc om fortable s ituation. 'A nd then,' c ontinued the c hild brightly, 's he s ees the lonely little beetle and as ks him who he is . He tells her that he is jus t a s ad and boring little bug and he's ugly as well and nobody loves him . S he tells him he's a beautiful beetle, the beautifules t beetle s he has ever s een in the whole wide world and s he as ks him if s he c an s tay with him for ever and ever. T hey love eac h other and then they have lots of little baby beetles .' 'I thought they m ight do,' I s aid under m y breath. 'B ut all I want is "s ex"! ' s he s aid,.rather too loudly for c om fort. 'J us t keep your voic e down a little,' I told her. 'W hat about "c uddle up" or "s nuggle"? T hos e m ight be better words to us e.' 'I don't want "c uddle up" or "s nuggle",' s he replied tartly, c learly irritated by the delay. 'I want "s ex".' Her voic e was now loud enough to attrac t the attention of the headteac her who s wiftly appeared on the s c ene. 'My goodnes s , Mr P hinn,' s he s aid, 'you and Melis s a s eem to be having a very interes ting c onvers ation.' 'It's about "s ex", m is s ,' s aid the little girl. B efore I c ould explain, the c hild, giving another great heaving s igh, announc ed, 'He won't s pell "s ex" for m e, Mrs Mc Cardle. I've as ked him but he won't s pell it. I don't think Mr P hinn's too good at s pelling.' T he teac her arc hed an eyebrow. 'Y ou s ee,' c ontinued Melis s a, holding up her paper for Mrs Mc Cardle to s ee, 'I c an s pell the firs t bit but it's the "s ex" bit I c an't do.' 'T ell Mr P hinn what the full word is , Melis s a,' the teac her told her, a knowing twinkle in her eye. '"Ins ec ts ",' announc ed the c hild. 'I want to s tart m y s tory: "B eetles are ins ec ts ." I c an do the "in" but not the "s ec ts ".' I think it is fair to s ay that m y ins pec tion of S taplem oor P rim ary S c hool had not got off to a very aus pic ious s tart. 'P erhaps you would like to vis it the juniors for a s hort while, Mr P hinn,' s ugges ted Mrs Mc Cardle, 'and then join us again in the infants after m orning break. W ould that s uit?' 'T hat would s uit very well,' I replied, retreating gratefully to the adjoining c las s room . T he junior teac her, Mr S penc er-Hall, was a lean, weary-looking individual of indeterm inate age with a pained expres s ion, fluffy outc rops of ginger hair and large s pec tac les whic h had the habit of s lipping down his nos e as he talked. 'I've always had a s ec ret dread of s c hool ins pec tors ,' he inform ed m e m oros ely, pus hing up his glas s es and produc ing an expres s ion a c hild m ight pull when fac ed with a plate of c old c abbage. 'I've only m et two s c hool ins pec tors in m y whole c areer and they put the very fear of God in m e, they really did. I had s leeples s nights for weeks after their vis its and I'm s ure they brought on m y as thm a.' 'W ell, I hope m y vis it is going to be les s dis tres s ing, Mr S penc er-Hall,' I told him c heerily. 'W hat exac tly are you going to be doing, Mr P hinn?' he as ked with an even m ore woeful look on his fac e. 'W ell, I thought I m ight obs erve a bit of your teac hing,' I replied, 'and then -' 'Oh dear,' he m oaned, 'you m ean w atc h m e?' T here was a s tiffening of the s houlders then a s harp intake of breath. 'I don't like the s ound of that. I don't like being watc hed, I really don't. I'm never at m y bes t when I'm being obs erved.' 'T hen I would like to hear the c hildren read,' I c ontinued, dec iding to ignore thes e las t c om m ents , 'look at their written work, tes t their s pellings and talk to them a little.' 'It all s ounds terribly daunting to m e,' he groaned, biting his bottom lip, 'but I s uppos e you have a job to do and I'll jus t have to grin and bear it.' He s m iled like an undertaker. 'W on't I?' 'I'm afraid you will, Mr S penc er-Hall,' I s aid. 'T hat is m y job, watc hing teac hers teac h.' 'A nd I s uppos e there will be a report?' 'Y es , there will,' I replied, 'whic h, of c ours e, I would be happy to dis c us s with you.' 'Oh dear,' he m oaned again. 'I don't like the s ound of that either.' 'T he point behind m y obs erving your les s on, Mr S penc er-Hall, is to give you an objec tive view of your teac hing, help you im prove and als o offer s om e advic e and s upport. I think you will find it quite painles s .' 'W ell, Mr P hinn,' he s aid s adly, 'thos e two s c hool ins pec tors who vis ited m e before, the ones who put the fear of God in m e and kept m e awake at night and brought on m y as thm a, had the very oppos ite effec t. It was about as painles s as having a boil lanc ed. T hey m ade m e ill. One had the m anner of a polic ec ell interrogator and the other looked as if he'd been dug up. S eeing them s c ribbling away in their little blac k books put m e off m y s troke and no m is take. I jus t went to piec es .' 'W ell, I hope you will not find m e quite as frightening,' I told him . 'J us t im agine that I am not there, Mr S penc er-Hall.' 'E as ier s aid than done,' he groaned. I prepared m ys elf for what I im agined would be an endles s ly dull les s on. A s it turned out, Mr S penc er-Hall's teac hing was not that bad. A s s oon as he fac ed the c hildren he bec am e m ore c onfident and anim ated. T he c hildren lis tened attentively as he explained how they m ight m ake their writing m ore vibrant by s trengthening their verbs . T he idea was that they s hould produc e alternatives to a c hos en word. 'W hat about "looked"?' the teac her as ked. B ac k c am e 'glanc ed', 'peered', 'watc hed', 'glim ps ed', 'gaped', 'eyed', 'peeped', 's tared' and m any others . 'A nd what about "walked"?' he as ked next. A gain there was a lively res pons e: 'lim ped', 's taggered', 'trotted', 's wayed', 'reeled', 'tottered' and a hos t m ore. T he words were lis ted neatly on the blac kboard in a c areful c urs ive s c ript and then the c hildren were s et the tas k of inc luding s om e of them in a piec e of writing. Mr S penc er-Hall was not the m os t dynam ic and enthus ias tic teac her in the world but the les s on was well planned and the c hildren were keen. W hen the teac her glanc ed nervous ly in m y direc tion, I gave him a reas s uring s m ile and m ade s ure I was not 's c ribbling away in m y little blac k book'. He s ighed, put on a m artyred expres s ion, s lid his s pec tac les up his nos e and c ontinued. T he firs t c hild I heard read that m orning was W illiam , a m oon-fac ed boy of about ten or eleven, with apple-red c heeks , a thatc h of blac k hair and a ready s m ile. He pres ented him s elf to m e arm ed with an extrem ely thic k and anc ient-looking reading book, a folder of his written work and a bizarre c ons truc tion m ade of c ardboard, m atc hboxes , lavatory rolls , lollipop s tic ks and tis s ue paper. T he c ardboard c reation res em bled the s ort of building whic h m ight have s urvived a nuc lear holoc aus t. 'S hall we m ek a s tart, then?' he as ked m e bluntly, s huffling onto the c hair next to m e and rubbing his hands together like s om eone about to em bark on an adventure. 'W hat's tha want to talk to m e abaat fus t, then, Mes ter P hinn, m i readin', m i writing or m i des ign tec hnology?' 'Y ou're a bright and c onfident lad and no m is take,' I told him . 'A ye, well, m i granddad s ays not to be bac kwards in c om in' for'ards . "A lius s peak tha m ind. S ay what thas got to s ay and then s hurrup." T hat's what he s ays .' 'V ery true. S hall we s tart with that inc redible c ons truc tion of yours , then, W illiam ? It c ertainly is unus ual. Is it a fac tory of s om e s ort?' 'Nay, nay, Mes ter P hinn, it's an oil refinery. I like doin' m odels . I'll s how you m i abattoir later on, if tha likes . It's got c aging pens , holding area, s laughter c ham ber -' 'Y es , I'd like that,' I replied, trying to s ound enthus ias tic . W illiam then explained to m e, in s om e detail, the workings of an oil refinery, as king m e finally if I had unders tood. W hen we got to the reading, the boy s huffled again on his c hair and opened the heavy tom e, s liding his s ec ond finger along the top of the page and running it behind like a s eas oned reader. 'W ho taught you to turn pages like that, W illiam ?' I as ked. 'Granddad. He's a gret reader is m i granddad. Can't get enough books . W hen we goes to t'library, he gets reight c ros s when he oppens a book and s ees all them grubby thum b m arks on t'bottom o' pages . He rec kons you 'ave to 'ave res pec t for books . T hat's how yer turn the pages of a book, tha knaas , from t'top.' 'Y es , that's right,' I agreed. ''Old a book in your 'and and you're a pilgrim at t'gates of a new c ity.' I was s tunned into s ilenc e. 'W hat was that you s aid?' 'Hebrew proverb,' s aid the boy, s c ratc hing the thic k thatc h of blac k hair. 'Learnt it off m i granddad. He's a gret one for proverbs and ps alm s , is m i granddad. He's a preac her, tha knaas .' 'A teac her?' 'Nay, a preac her.' 'Really?' 'Methodis t. He reads his bible every neet. He s howed m e how to turn t'pages wi'out dam aging t'book. He rec kons that J ohn W es ley learnt to read ups ide down, tha knaas . 'A s thy 'eard o'J ohn W es ley?' 'I have indeed,' I told him . 'A m azin' m an was J ohn W es ley. He was one o' nineteen c hildren, tha knaas .' 'Really, I didn't know that.' 'T hey s ay he travelled near on a quarter of a m illion m iles on his 'ors e bringing t'word of God to folks . S pent a lot o'tim e in Y orks hire did J ohn W es ley.' 'A m azing.' 'He us ed to lis ten to his father reading t'bible to 'im every neet as a little 'un and he us ed to follow t'words whic h were ups ide down to 'im , o' c ours e. My granddad reads bible to m e. Not ups ide down, though. I know all t's tories : S am s on, Daniel in t'lions ' den, Mos es , Noah, J ac ob, J os eph. T here's s om e lively s tuff in t'bible.' 'A nd whic h is your favourite bible s tory?' I as ked. 'W aay, it 'ud 'ave to be David and Goliath.' 'W hy is that?' 'W ell, it's a c rac king good tale, i'n't it? Old Goliath c om es ovver dale, huffin' and puffin' and s houtin' and s c ream in' and wavin' his reight big s word abaat like there's no tom orra and tellin' t'Is raelites to s end out their c ham pion. Out c om es little David, wi' nowt but a s ling s hot in 'is 'and. "W aaaaay! " rooars old Goliath. "T ha m us t be jokin'. Is this t'bes t thy lot c an do? Little s quirt like thee! I c ould tread on thee and s quas h thee. I c ould s pit on thee and drowan thee. I c ould breath on thee and blow thee into t'next week. S end out a proper c ham pion not a little s c rap like thee. I'm not feightin' thee." A nyroad, David s ays to 'im , "I'm thee m an," and he reac hes into t'bec k and pulls out a pebble t's ize of a pullet egg and pops it in 'is s ling s hot and lets fly. B y the 'ec k, it di'n't 'arf s hift and it 'its old Goliath s m ac k between 'is eyes .' 'T hat m us t have really hurt him ,' I ventured. ''Urt him ?' 'Urt 'im ?' the buy c ried. 'It ruddy well killed 'im ! ' I looked down and tried to s uppres s m y laughter. 'W ell, what about this book of yours , then, W illiam ? T ell m e a little bit about it and then perhaps you would like to read m e a page.' 'I c an do that wi'out any trouble at all, Mes ter P hinn,' he told m e c onfidently. 'Now then, this book is abaat exploration in t'A rc tic .' 'It's a very old book,' I obs erved, fingering the s habby c over and s taring at the c ram ped print and yellowing pages . It had a rather unpleas ant, m us ty s m ell to it. 'A ye, I got it from a c harity s hop. Dun't really m atter what it looks like, though, does it? It's what's ins ide what c ounts , m y granddad s ays . S am e wi' people, he s ays . "Many a good tune played on an owd fiddle." He s ays that an' all.' 'V ery true,' I agreed. 'Off you go, then, W illiam . Read m e a c ouple of paragraphs .' T he boy took a deep breath, c leared his throat nois ily and began, his body hunc hed and his fac e c los e to the page, '"T he gale raged about the tent. Captain S c ott dec ided that they m us t c ontinue with the m arc h des pite the appalling weather. T o s tay there would have m eant c ertain death in the ic y was teland. Fac ing c has m s and c revas s es , thic k-c rus ted s now and m as s ive m ountains of ic e, the explorers plodded on. T heir c rac ked lips were broken and raw, their fingers num b with c old and their feet frozen beyond feeling. S lipping and falling, s liding and s tum bling, plunging blindly into yawning ravines and es c aping only by a m irac le, Captain S c ott and his party m arc hed onwards .'" T he boy paus ed and thought for a m om ent before c om m enting, 'He's a gret one for t'verbs , this writer, i'n't he?' 'He is ,' I agreed, c huc kling. 'Not s o 'ot on t'adjec tives , though.' 'No,' I agreed, thinking that Mr S penc er-Hall's les s on had had s om e im pac t. 'He died, tha knaas .' 'W ho did?' I as ked. 'Captain S c ott. He were found frozzen to deeath.' 'Oh, yes , I know. It was a very s ad end.' 'A ye, he died all right.' T he boy thought for a m om ent. 'It gets reight c owld up where I lives but not as c owld as that. S hall I go on?' 'No, that's fine, W illiam ,' I s aid and then added, 'It's a m arvellous s tory, is n't it? A s tory of great c ourage and determ ination.' 'It is that,' agreed the boy. 'It is that.' 'A nd you're a grand reader, W illiam .' 'A ye, I'm not too bad, even if I s ays s o m i's elf.' T he boy's folder was im pres s ive. T here were s tories and vivid des c riptions , little anec dotes and lively ac c ounts . It was c lear that Mr S penc er-Hall had c overed a good deal of ground with his pupils and that he had taught them well. One poem in W illiam 's folder appealed to m e in partic ular. 'I gues s this is about this rem arkable granddad of yours , W illiam ,' I c om m ented. 'It is that,' s aid the boy. 'A nd he were reight c huffed wi'it an' all. It's c alled T' Dales man.' 'I'm s ure he was very proud. W ould you read it for m e?' W illiam s huffled in his c hair, c oughed and read his poem loudly and c learly. Old m an, s itting on the s tile, Hands like roots and hays tac k hair, S m oky beard and s uns hine s m ile, He does n't have a s ingle c are. Old m an, s taring at the bield, Falc on-nos ed and raven's eye, T hin as the s c arec row in his field, He s tands and s ees the world go by. 'W hat's a "bield", W illiam ?' I as ked.

'T ha not from around here, then?' 'No, I'm not.' 'A n "off-c om ed-un", are you?' S inc e s tarting work in rural Y orks hire, I had been c alled this m ore tim es than I c an rem em ber - s om eone from out of the dale, a foreigner. 'I am indeed an "off-c om ed-un",' I adm itted. 'S om etim es in a field tha'll s ee a wall,' the boy explained. 'It gus noweer, it dunt divide owt, it jus t s tands theer, jus t a bit o' drys tone wall. P eople pas s ing - "off-c om ed-uns ", vis itors and the like - they often wonder what the hec k it is .' He s c ratc hed the thatc h of thic k hair. 'W ell, what is it, W illiam ?' I as ked. 'I'm jus t abaat to tell thee, Mes ter P hinn. T hat bit 'o wall is a "bield". It's for t's heep to get behind for a bit o's helter when t'wind las hes at 'em and rain s oaks 'em through. It's a s ort of refuge.' 'I s ee. W ell, that's s om ething I've learnt this m orning.' 'Mi granddad s ays you nivver s top learnin'.' I tes ted W illiam on his s pellings , punc tuation, knowledge of voc abulary and gram m ar and was well s atis fied. 'It's been a real pleas ure talking to you,' I told him , c los ing the folder of work. 'Likewis e, Mes ter P hinn,' he replied. T hen, getting to his feet, he patted m e on the bac k as a grandfather m ight do to his grands on. 'T ek c are,' he s aid, 'and if tha wants to s ee m i abattoir, it's in t'c orner.' T hen he departed with his book, folder and oil refinery, whis tling m errily as he went. Mos t of the ques tions s c hool ins pec tors as k in the c ours e of their work are ps eudo ques tions . W e know the ans wers ; they are not genuine in the s ens e that we are as king s om ething whic h, for us , is obvious . W hen I as k a c hild to s pell a word, I already know the s pelling. W hen I as k if he knows what a noun is , I am fully aware of what it is and am jus t tes ting him . B ut there have been m any oc c as ions on m y travels around the s c hools in the Dales where the ques tions I have as ked are genuine, when I have no idea of the ans wer. A fter W illiam had returned whis tling to his s eat, I added yet another word - 'bield' - to m y Y orks hire voc abulary and wrote it down in m y little blac k book alongs ide 'arran' (s pider), 'barfin' (hors e c ollar), 'biddy' (lous e), 'c hippy' (s tarling), 'fuzzoc k' (donkey) and other wonderfully ric h and des c riptive dialec t words . T he next pupil was s om ething of a c ontras t. He was a s hy, m ous y little boy who fidgeted in his c hair but m anaged to keep his hands c las ped tightly in front of him as if brac ing him s elf for s om e uns een and im pending horror. He had deep-s et brown eyes with thic k las hes and kept glanc ing nervous ly in m y direc tion. I c ould s ee that he found m e rather intim idating des pite m y efforts to put him at his eas e. He ans wered m y ques tions in m onos yllables , read quic kly and in a trem bling voic e and was very pleas ed when I c urtailed our interview. He s c uttled away and buried his head behind a big book. T he third c hild, a large healthy-looking girl s porting s traw-c oloured hair gathered up in enorm ous bus hy bunc hes , depos ited her reading book and folder of written work in front of m e, plopped onto the c hair and s tared up with a wearis om e expres s ion on her round fac e. It was c lear that this pupil, unlike W illiam , was not overly enthus ias tic about s howing m e her work but, unlike the nervous little boy, s he was by no m eans daunted by the pres enc e of the s tranger in the dark s uit. I s m iled. 'A nd what is your nam e?' 'J anic e.' 'W ell, J anic e, I'm Mr P hinn and I am here to s ee how well you are getting on in s c hool.' S he nodded. 'A nd how do you think you are getting on?' 'A ll reight,' s he replied, s om ewhat s ullenly. 'W orking hard?' 'Y eah.' 'A nd keeping up with the work?' 'Y eah.' 'A nd what do you enjoy bes t about s c hool?' 'Goin' 'om e,' s he told m e bluntly. 'W ell, would you like to read to m e?' 'I'm not dead keen, but I will if I 'ave to.' 'Let's have a look at your book.' T he girl flic ked open a thin green volum e entitled, A n A nthology of A nimal V ers e.'A h, a poetry book. Do you like poetry then, J anic e?' 'Not really,' replied the girl before adding, 'It's jus t that poem s are s horter than s tories and eas ier to read.' T he poem , c alled Nature's Treas ure by P hilom ena P hillpots , des c ribed in the prefac e as 'T he Dales P oetes s ', was delivered s lowly and loudly, the reader s tabbing the words with a large finger like s om eone tapping out an urgent Mors e c ode m es s age. Oh, what lovely little lam bs P ranc ing in the s pring! Hear their happy bleating, Oh what joy they bring! I groaned inwardly and had to s it through s ix m ore vers es , all as trite as the firs t. 'Is that it, then?' as ked J anic e, s napping the book s hut and looking up at m e. S he was c learly keen to get away. I s ugges ted that s he m ight like to tell m e a little about what s he had jus t read. S he c ons idered the pros pec t for a m om ent before replying. 'I 'ave enough trouble wi' readin' it, ne'er m ind havin' to tell you abaat it as well.' 'Do you like reading then, J anic e?' I as ked c heerfully. 'No.' I gave it up as a bad job. 'W ell, s hall we look at your written work?' 'Can if tha wants .' J anic e's written work c ons is ted largely of s pelling exerc is es , s hort pedes trian pas s ages of pros e, a few poor-quality rhym ing poem s and num erous des c riptions , rather m ore lively and des c riptive, of c alving, lam bing, s heep-s hearing and other farm ing m atters . 'Y ou keep c ows on your farm then, do you, J anic e?' 'Y eah.' 'A nd pigs ?' 'Y eah.' 'A nd what about s heep?' 'W hat about 'em ?' 'Do you have any?' 'Y eah.' T his was hard work but I pers evered. 'A nd do you help with the lam bing?' I as ked. 'Y eah.' 'It m us t be wonderful eac h year to s ee thos e little woolly c reatures , like the ones in the poem , all wet and s team ing in the m orning air, with their s oft fleec es , blac k eyes like s hiny beads and their tails flic king and twitc hing.' 'It's all reight,' s he s aid, s tifling a yawn. 'A nd what do you like bes t about lam bing?' S he c ons idered m e again with the doleful eyes before telling m e without batting an eyelid, 'B es t part's when m e and m i brother s lide on t'afterbirth in t'yard.' 'Really?' I s aid, and thought of P hilom ena P hillpots ' truly awful little vers e about 'lovely little lam bs pranc ing in the s pring'. It was a world away. A t m orning playtim e I joined Mrs Mc Cardle in her room . 'Y our fac e was a pic ture with little Melis s a and no m is take,' the headteac her told m e, s haking her head and s m iling. 'Y ou looked like a little boy who had jus t had his ic e c ream s natc hed from his hands - c om pletely s tunned. I m us t s ay I didn't realis e what word s he wanted until I s aw the beginning of her s tory in her book. It happens s o often, does n't it? I rec all onc e when a c hild as ked m e to s pell "virgin" and I did exac tly the s am e as you. "W hy do you want that partic ular word, J am es ?" I enquired. "I need it for m y s tory, m is s ," he announc ed. "B ut I as ked you to re-tell the parable of T he Good S am aritan and I don't rec all there being a virgin in that s tory," I replied. "B ut you as ked us to do our own 'virgin' of it, m is s ," he res ponded. He m eant "vers ion", of c ours e.' Mrs Mc Cardle s huffled s om e papers on her des k. 'A nyway, how did you find Mr S penc er-Hall and his c las s ?' 'W ell, the junior c hildren s eem to be doing well,' I replied, 'although there is a range of ability. T here are s om e very lively and able c hildren and others who c learly need a great deal of s upport. However, s tandards are generally pretty good. I'll be s ending a full report next week and will c all in again when you have had a c hanc e to read m y rec om m endations .' 'I'm pleas ed to hear that,' s aid the headteac her. 'Mr S penc er-Hall's been like a c at on a hot tin roof s inc e he heard you were c om ing, whittling and worrying and m oaning and groaning. He's a bit long in the tooth is Mr S penc er-Hall and has been here m any years but he works hard, prepares his les s ons well and the c hildren produc e s om e very prais eworthy work. S om etim es his P rophet of Doom m anner is a bit tires om e but his heart's in the right plac e.' 'W illiam 's an interes ting boy,' I s aid. 'Oh, W illiam T urnbull! He's a c harac ter and no m is take. Did you m anage to get a word in? He's got what m y m other us ed to c all "verbal diarrhea". He never s tops talking.' I don't know about W illiam having verbal diarrhoea, I thought, but Mrs Mc Cardle c ould c ertainly give him a run for his m oney when it c am e to talking. 'Y ou know, Mrs Mc Cardle,' I told her, 'W illiam is an ac c om plis hed poet and I would love a c opy of his 'Dales m an' poem if I m ay.' 'Of c ours e, Mr P hinn, I'm s ure he'd be delighted to let you have a c opy.' In the infant c las s room , to whic h I returned later that m orning, the c hildren were bus ily engaged writing their s tories about ins ec ts . 'Do feel free to wander and have a c hat with the c hildren,' s aid Mrs Mc Cardle. One c hild, tongue s tuc k out in c onc entration, was c olouring in a grey s pidery-legged c reature. 'Daddy-longlegs ?' I rem arked. 'Crane fly,' s he c orrec ted, pertly. 'A h yes . W ould you like to tell m e a little about your projec t?' 'W e've been looking at all s orts of ins ec ts ,' s aid the c hild, plac ing her penc il c arefully on the des k. S he was a prec oc ious little thing with s hiny blonde hair and bright brown eyes . 'Mrs Mc Cardle brought s om e m aggots in for us to watc h them c hange into flies .' Her voic e took on a c ons piratorial whis per. 'A nd s om e es c aped. T hey wriggled out of the tank and we had flies everywhere. Mrs Dodd s he's our c leaner - was not very pleas ed. T oby brought in a was ps ' nes t that he found in his garden. W hat els e? Oh, we have a worm ery where you c an s ee the worm s m aking tunnels , and a tank where we have beetles and bugs .' S he thought for a m om ent before as king, 'Is that c alled a buggery?' Here we go again, I thought, and m oved on s wiftly. I c am e again upon Melis s a who was putting the finis hing touc hes to her s tory about the lonely beetle and his am orous adventures on the c om pos t heap. I as ked her how s he was getting on with her s tory. 'It's going very well, thank you,' s he told m e. 'I would love to s ee it when it's finis hed,' I told her. 'OK .' Next to her was an awkward-looking boy with s pec tac les and big ears . He was s itting in thoughtful s ilenc e, his elbows on the des k, his hands propping his c hin. 'I'm jus t thinking for a m inute,' he told m e s erious ly. 'My s tory's about a bee who's los t his buzz and c an't find his way bac k to the hive but I don't know how to s pell "nec tar".' 'W ell don't bother as king Mr P hinn,' c hipped in Melis s a, 'he's not very good at s pelling, are you, Mr P hinn?'

2 T hat vis it to S taplem oor County P rim ary S c hool was the firs t of the new term but, as every s c hool ins pec tor - and indeed every teac her - knows , a vas t am ount of work has to be done between the end of the s um m er term and the beginning of the next when the new s c hool year begins . S oon after the s c hools had broken up for s um m er, I had taken a few days off to vis it m y parents in Rotherham s inc e there was s om e im portant news to tell them . Now bac k, I fac ed a pyram id of paper on m y des k whic h had to be dealt with before I c ould es c ape for s om e holiday. However, as I s at there s taring at the daunting pile, I thought about the s c hool year we had jus t finis hed. It had been a really interes ting year. I had arranged c ours es and c onferenc es for teac hers , direc ted works hops , c arried out various s urveys , attended appointm ent panels , advis ed s c hool governors and hos ted im portant vis itors from the Minis try of E duc ation and S c ienc e - all this in addition to ins pec ting s c hools . Y es , I thought to m ys elf as I s tared at the untouc hed m ountain of paper, it had been a good year, but I rec koned it would be dull indeed c om pared to the year whic h lay ahead of m e. T hat prom is ed to be the m os t exc iting one in m y life s o far, for, at the end of the previous term , I had as ked the wom an I loved to m arry m e and - bingo! - s he had s aid yes . On this J uly m orning, I had arrived early at the ins pec tors ' offic e, in buoyant m ood des pite the dis m al weather. It was a dark, rain-s oaked lands c ape that rolled pas t the c ar window as I drove the s hort dis tanc e from m y flat above T he Rum bling T um c afe in Fettles ham High S treet to County Hall. T he room where I worked, and whic h I s hared with m y ins pec tor c olleagues , was c ram ped and c luttered. T here were four heavy oak des ks with bras s -handled drawers , four anc ient ladder-bac k s wivel c hairs , four grey m etal filing c abinets and a wall of dark bookc as es c ram m ed with books , diges ts , journals , folders and files . A c ouple of unhealthy-looking s pider plants s truggled for life on the s helf by the window. J us t as I was about to tac kle the pile of paper, there was a c lattering on the s tairs leading up to the offic e. T his s ignalled the im m inent arrival of J ulie, the ins pec tors ' s ec retary, in thos e ridic ulous ly high-heeled s hoes s he was fond of wearing. J ulie, with her bubbly blonde hair, bright open s m ile and c ons tant c hatter, brightened up the dulles t of days . S he was ever-c heerful, wonderfully effic ient and her ready wit c om bined with typic al Y orks hire bluntnes s helped her im m eas urably to keep the s c hool ins pec tors in order. I s us pec t we were not the eas ies t of people to work for. B es ides m ys elf, in c harge of E nglis h and dram a, there was S idney Clam p, the im m ens ely c reative but entirely unpredic table and s om etim es outrageous ins pec tor in c harge of vis ual and c reative arts ; David P ritc hard, the lively little W els hm an res pons ible for m athem atic s , P E and gam es , who fired words at all and s undry like a m ac hine gun, and Dr Geraldine Mullarkey, the newes t and quietes t m em ber of our team and who was in c harge of s c ienc e and tec hnology. Down the c orridor was our team leader, Dr Harold Y eats , the S enior Ins pec tor, one of the gentles t and kindes t of people it had been m y pleas ure to know, and next to his room was the s ec retary's s m all offic e whic h we all referred to as 'the broom c upboard'. J ulie now bus tled in loaded down as us ual with various bags . S he was s oaking wet and winds wept. 'S o what happened to s um m er then?' s he as ked as s he dropped the dripping bags on the firs t em pty des k. 'It's teem ing it down out there. It's s uppos ed to be bright and s unny at this tim e of year. J uly? It's m ore like the m ons oon s eas on.' S he s hook hers elf like a dog em erging from the s ea. 'W hy is it that the only tim e I forget m y bles s ed um brella, the heavens open? A nd why is it that you're left s tanding for half an hour at the bus s top and then three bus es c om e at onc e? A nd why is it there's no bus s helter on S andringham Road? A nd why is it that m adm en in c ars wait until you c ros s the road before they drive through the puddles ? I m us t look like s om ething the c at's brought in.' S he s tood s taring at m e, puffing and s pluttering and dripping. 'Good m orning, J ulie,' I s aid, getting up to help her off with her s aturated jac ket. 'Let's get thes e wet things off.' 'T hanks ,' s he s aid, pulling off her jac ket. 'I feel as if I've been dragged bac kwards through a c ar was h. My hair m us t look a s ight.' S he pulled a s trand of wet hair in front of her fac e to ins pec t it. 'W hat are you in s o early for? It's only jus t after nine. S c hools have broken up, you know. Y ou don't need to get in here at the c rac k of dawn. Mr Clam p and Mr P ritc hard won't be in till ten.' 'I intended to a m ake s tart on all this paperwork,' I s aid, ges turing to the m ountain before m e, 'but haven't got very far. Look, you go and dry off and I'll m ake s om e c offee.' I took her wet jac ket and draped it over a c hair to dry. 'T a, I will.' S he pic ked up her jac ket and headed for the door but s topped s uddenly, turned and gave m e a knowing s m ile. 'Oh, what about y ou, then?' 'Me?' I as ked. 'W hat about m e?' 'B it of a dark hors e, aren't you? I hear wedding bells are in the air.' 'Oh, that. Y es , Chris tine and I are getting m arried.' I had firs t m et Mis s Chris tine B entley, headteac her of W innery Nook Nurs ery and Infant S c hool, when, as a newly-appointed County Ins pec tor, I had vis ited her s c hool s om e two years before. A s I had tried to c om fort a very dis tres s ed little girl at the s c hool entranc e, this vis ion had appeared before m e and had given m e s uc h a s m ile that m y legs went weak. Chris tine had the deepes t blue eyes , the s oftes t m as s of golden hair and the s m oothes t c om plexion I had ever s een. S he was s tunning. I had been c om pletely bowled over, it had been love at firs t s ight, but I had found it diffic ult to put m y feelings into words . However, the m ore I had got to know her, the deeper that love bec am e. I jus t c ould not get her out of m y m ind. I would be attending an im portant c onferenc e but s it thinking about her. I would be in a m eeting and m y thoughts would wander to a pic ture of her s urrounded by a group of wide-eyed infants . I would be perc hed at the bac k of a c las s room and would vis ualis e her s m iling that eas y s m ile and gazing at m e with thos e c lear blue eyes . I would lie in bed at night with a longing s o powerful it felt like an illnes s . I was like a love-s ic k s c hoolboy. Finally, I had had the c ourage to as k her out. W e began to s pend m ore tim e together. Now s he was to be m y wife and we had a lifetim e together ahead of us . 'Congratulations ,' J ulie s aid, interrupting m y thoughts . 'It was about tim e you as ked her.' 'How did you know?' 'Y ou really don't im agine that news like that s tays a s ec ret for long at County Hall, do you? T he jungle telegraph was going the day after you propos ed.' 'I don't s ee how anybody pos s ibly c ould have known,' I s aid, puzzled. 'Haven't you forgotten about the Queen of the J ungle?' J ulie's upper lip arc hed like a m ad dog and there was a wild gleam in her eye. 'T hat dreadful wom an was on the tom -tom s in no tim e. S he s pread it round County Hall like s om ebody fanning a fores t fire. It's a wonder s he didn't s end out one of her m ile-long m em os letting everyone know, or announc e it over a louds peaker in the s taff c anteen.' 'A h,' I s ighed, 'I'd forgotten about Mrs S avage.' 'I wis h I c ould,' rem arked J ulie wis tfully. Mrs B renda S avage, P ers onal A s s is tant to Dr Gore, the Chief E duc ation Offic er, was not a well-liked wom an. S he was hum ourles s , patronis ing and liked her red-nailed fingers in every pie around. S he was als o exc es s ively nos y and very fond of her own voic e and all of us had been on the rec eiving end of her s harp tongue at one tim e or another. 'A nyway,' as ked J ulie, gathering up the wet bags off the des k-top, 'how did the B lac k W idow find out?' I explained to J ulie that I had propos ed to Chris tine on the las t day of term in what I thought would be a s ec luded res taurant, Le B on A ppetit, in the little m arket town of Ribs dyke. B y s heer c oinc idenc e, Dr Gore and Mrs S avage had been having dinner there as well that evening and had witnes s ed m y hys teric ally happy outburs t when Chris tine had s aid, 'I will.' W ith a thud, J ulie dropped the bags and her jac ket bac k onto the des k, put her hands on her hips and s aid s harply, 'W ell, what was s he doing having dinner with Dr Gore?' 'Y ou'll have to as k her that,' I teas ed, 'A s k her? A s k her?' J ulie repeated, s c rewing up her fac e. 'I'd as s oon play "P os tm an's K noc k" with a s ex-s tarved c roc odile. I never s peak to that wom an unles s I have to. S he treats m e as if I was s om ething dis c overed on the s ole of her s hoe. S he's only a jum ped-up offic e c lerk. A nybody would think s he was s ec retary of the United Nations the way s he c arries on. Lady High and Mighty. S he forgets that s om e people rem em ber her before s he had that fac e job and when her voic e didn't s ound like the Queen being garrotted and when that hair of hers was natural and was n't out of a bottle. A s m y m other s ays , "Y ou c an never es c ape your roots ."' 'W ell, who knows , s he m ight very well be the future Mrs Gore,' I s aid m is c hievous ly. 'T hey c ertainly s eem ed to be getting on very well. Quite intim ate, ac tually.' 'No! ' gas ped J ulie. 'Y ou don't think s he's getting her hooks into Dr Gore, do you? S he's been through three hus bands . Do you think s he's trying to m ake him hus band num ber four? T hat would be awful. S he's bad enough now but if s he m arried the CE O s he'd be unbearable. S he'd be lording it -' J ulie's m onologue was interrupted by the s hrill ringing of the telephone on m y des k. I pic ked it up. 'Hello, Gervas e P hinn here.' It was the wom an hers elf - the form idable Mrs S avage. 'Good m orning, Mr P hinn, B renda S avage here,' s he s aid with s low deliberation. I waited but there was no polite, 'How are you?' or 'Congratulations on your forthc om ing m arriage.' S he was her predic tably c oldly form al s elf. 'A re you s till there?' 'Good m orning, Mrs S avage,' I replied c heerfully, grinning in J ulie's direc tion. I res is ted the tem ptation to s ay 'S peak of the devil...' but as ked ins tead, 'W hat c an I do for you?' J ulie took a blus tering breath and left the offic e. 'I'll m ake the c offee,' s he s aid on the way out, 'and I'll put plenty of brandy in it.' 'Mr P hinn,' c ontinued Mrs S avage s lowly, 'I don't appear to have the ins pec tors ' program m es for next week.' 'Really,' I s aid. 'I have m entioned to you all, on num erous oc c as ions , how very im portant it is to have details of the ins pec tors ' propos ed tim etables in c as e Dr Gore or one of the c ounc illors needs to m ake urgent c ontac t.' I attem pted a reply, intending to inform her that s inc e s c hools were on holiday we would all be in the offic e and that filling in the form s would be a was te of tim e and effort, but s he c arried on regardles s . 'I have rung Dr Y eats 's num ber s everal tim es now but there is no res pons e. Could you inform him , when he does arrive, that it is im perative that I have the program m es on m y des k by the end of the day? I really do not have the tim e to be c ons tantly rem inding you ins pec tors about thes e and other m atters . Now, I have work to attend to,' s he s aid, as if I were deliberately detaining her and without waiting for a reply s he ended the c all. 'Ins ufferable wom an,' I m uttered to m ys elf. 'W hat did Lady Mac beth want then?' J ulie as ked when s he returned with two m ugs of c offee whic h s he s et down on the des k in front of m e. S he wore no s hoes and her hair, whic h had dried out a little, looked wild and wiry. 'T he ins pec tors ' program m es .' 'W ell, s he c an wait,' J ulie s aid bluntly, s traightening her c rum pled s kirt. 'I'll take them ac ros s later,' I told her. I patted the pile of paper on m y des k. 'I need to s tart on this little lot firs t.' 'Dr Y eats has n't given m e the program m es yet, s o you c an't. A nyway, why s hould you be at her bec k and c all? S he's got legs . W ouldn't do her any harm to get off her fat bac ks ide and leave that fanc y offic e of hers and c om e and get them . S he's got prec ious little els e to do all day exc ept s harpen her nails .' 'I m us t s ay, I thought Harold would be in by now,' I s aid. 'He us ually is ,' replied J ulie, c upping her hands around the m ug. 'He s pends m os t of the s c hool holidays at his des k but he has n't been around for a c ouple of days . I hope he's all right. I found him in his offic e one day las t week, jus t s taring into s pac e. I had to c ough to get his attention. I even found a c ouple of m is takes in his las t report, not up to his us ual m etic ulous s tandard.' 'Do you think he's ill?' I as ked. 'W ell, he s aid not,' replied J ulie, 'when I as ked him las t week. B ut if you as k m e, s om ething's bothering him .' 'W e have our ins pec tors ' m eeting later today,' I told her, 's o I'll find a m inute to have a quiet word with him then.' 'Might be an idea,' agreed J ulie, heading for the door. 'I was thinking it c ould be the m ale m enopaus e. I was reading about it in a m agazine this weekend. Mos t m en go through it. My dad did when he was about Dr Y eats 's age. It's when m en s tart to go bald, get a paunc h, s ee tim e tic king away and try to prove that they aren't "over the hill". T hey s tart looking at bim bos , take up jogging, dres s in c lothes that are far too young for them and c om e out with the oddes t things . Do you know, m y Dad c am e into the kitc hen one m orning and s aid -' 'I'll have a word with Dr Y eats , J ulie,' I s aid, 'but now I really m us t get on.' 'Y eah, have a word with him ,' s he s aid thoughtfully. T hen her fac e c hanged and s he s napped, 'Oh, and if the W ic ked W itc h of the W es t phones again, tell her to go c hew a bric k.' A s the c loc k on Fettles ham 's County Hall tower s truc k ten, S idney and David arrived at the offic e. I c ould hear them s quabbling like quarrels om e little s c hoolboys all the way up the s tairs . T he door burs t open and S idney m ade his us ual dram atic entranc e, followed c los ely by David, c lutc hing a wet um brella. I m ight have been invis ible for all the notic e they took of m e. 'Y ou're like a W els h terrier, David,' S idney was s aying, waving his large hands expans ively in the air as if dis c ouraging an irritating fly. 'Y ou w ill pers is t in your pedes trian views like a s nappy little dog worrying a rabbit. Y ou jus t won't let it lie. Y ou would argue with a s ignpos t given half a c hanc e.' David hooked his um brella on a s helf, tuc ked his briefc as e away, s at down, plac ed his hands on the high wooden arm res ts and took a s low, deep breath. 'T he trouble is , S idney,' he s aid in a deliberately m eas ured voic e, 'you never like anyone to dis agree with you, to have an alternative vers ion of things , another point of view. Y ou are blinkered, entirely unable to ac c ept that jus t for onc e you m ay indeed not be the fount of all knowledge.' 'E veryone has a right to m y opinion,' s aid S idney. 'A s m y W els h grandm other us ed to s ay -' 'Oh, s ave m e from the Celtic words of wis dom ,' interrupted S idney. 'T his W els h grandm other of yours s ounds a pain in the nec k, endles s ly giving everyone the benefit of her hom ely advic e. I would have c ons igned her to an old folks ' hom e years ago.' 'A s m y dear and very m uc h loved W els h grandm other us ed to s ay,' s aid David, undeterred by the interruption, '"J us t bec aus e s om eone talks with c onvic tion and enthus ias m does n't m ean they know what they're talking about. Fanc y words butter no pars nips ."' 'Good m orning, David. Good m orning, S idney. Now, what's all this about?' I as ked. 'I c ould hear you arguing from the bottom of the s tairs . A s s oon as one of you s tops for a breath, the other begins again.' 'W e are not arguing, Gervas e, we are having a profes s ional dis agreem ent,' explained S idney, ac knowledging m y pres enc e for the firs t tim e. 'David is s aying that I don't know what I'm talking about when it c om es to art, whic h is , as you know, m y s pec ialis t s ubjec t.' 'I am m erely s aying,' s aid David, 'that I am entitled to have a view.' 'W ell, let's as k Gervas e,' s aid S idney, rattling the c hange in his poc ket and s taring out of the window. 'Don't bring m e into it, S idney,' I s aid, s haking m y head. 'I always s eem to end up in the m iddle, pleas ing neither of you.' 'Lis ten, Gervas e, would you ac c ept that I know m ore about art than David?' 'W ell, I s uppos e s o but -' I began. 'W hic h, of c ours e, is not really uns urpris ing s inc e I am the ins pec tor res pons ible for c reative and vis ual arts , with a degree in fine art and a m as ter's degree in art. S o, David, do you at leas t rec ognis e that I know m ore about art than you?' David lifted both his hands to his fac e, took off his s pec tac les and folded them on the des k in front of him and breathed loudly through his nos e. 'Y es , but the point is -' 'Do s top m aking that infernal blowing nois e, David,' interrupted S idney yet again, 'you s ound like an as thm atic whale. Now, as you agree that I know m ore about art than you do...' at whic h point I s witc hed off. I knew thes e two: onc e they got into an argum ent it was like a bone between two dogs . A few m om ents later, they paus ed in their verbal battle when J ulie arrived at the door. 'Morning,' s he s aid. 'Good m orning, J ulie,' s aid David. 'Good God, J ulie! ' exc laim ed S idney ris ing from his c hair. 'W hatever have you done to your hair? It looks as if you've had your head in a s pin drier.' 'W hat a flatterer you are, S idney,' I s aid. J ulie ignored S idney's rem ark. 'Do you want c offee?' s he as ked. 'T hat would be s plendid,' s aid David. 'T hen if Mr Clam p will leave m e alone, I s hall m ake a s tart on m y in-tray.' 'T he thing is , David,' S idney interrupted, 'I do not profes s to pos s es s a deep-s eated knowledge about m athem atic s , therefore I keep m y own c ouns el. I am s om ewhat tentative about m aking pronounc em ents about things of whic h I know little. Y ou, on the other hand -' A s he was about to hold forth yet again, J ulie turned to m e and s aid, 'A ren't you going to tell them the news ?' 'W ell, I would have,' I replied, 'if I had been able to get a word in.' 'Don't give m e any bad news ,' s aid S idney, s itting bac k down. 'It's the s c hool holidays and I don't want bad news , extra work, c ontentious is s ues , problem s or diffic ulties . I have had enough of thos e this year. I intend c learing m y des k in the next few days and then s pending two glorious weeks in Italy. W ell, what is this news that is s o im portant?' 'I'm getting m arried,' I s aid. 'Chris tine has s aid s he will m arry m e.' 'Dear boy! ' exc laim ed S idney, jum ping from his c hair and thum ping m e vigorous ly on the bac k. 'W hy ever didn't you s ay, letting us ram ble on? W hat wonderful news ! W ell done! A t las t, you are to m ake delec table Mis s Chris tine B entley of W innery Nook, the A phrodite of the educ ation world, the V enus of Fettles ham , an hones t wom an.' 'Y ou haven't got to get m arried, have you?' J ulie enquired of m e from the door. 'I m ean s he's not -' 'No, of c ours e s he is n't,' I laughed. 'Congratulations , Gervas e,' s aid David, reac hing over to s hake m y hand. 'Y ou are m ade for eac h other.' 'T hank you, David.' 'A nd when is the big day?' 'W e're thinking of next A pril,' I replied. 'Not hanging about, are you?' obs erved J ulie. 'Of c ours e, you're quite right not to wait,' S idney rem arked, leaning bac k expans ively in his c hair and plac ing his hands behind his head. 'I m ean, neither of you are getting any younger.' 'W e're not quite in our dotage,' I replied. 'No and neither of you are s pring c hic kens , either. I m ean, if you're thinking of s tarting a fam ily you need to get c rac king.' 'Now he's a s elf-s tyled m arriage c ouns ellor,' s norted David. 'A n expert on m arital affairs . If I were you, Gervas e, I would take his c om m ents , like the ones about m odern art, with a great pinc h of s alt.' 'Y ou s ee,' s pluttered S idney, 'jus t like a s nappy little W els h terrier. He will not let it lie.' 'Hus h a m om ent,' c om m anded David, rais ing a hand. 'If I am not m is taken, thos e fairy foots teps on the s tairs tell us our es teem ed leader is on his way up.' Harold Y eats , S enior County Ins pec tor, was a bear of a m an, well over s ix feet tall and with a great jutting bulldog jaw. He looked the las t pers on in the world to be a s c hool ins pec tor. W ith his broad s houlders , arc hed c hes t and hands like s pades , he looked m ore like an underworld enforc er or a night c lub bounc er. B ut Harold was a gentle giant, warm -hearted, generous and c ourteous to all. He als o had an enc yc lopaedic knowledge and an am azing m em ory. 'Harold! ' boom ed S idney as he c aught s ight of him at the door. 'Gervas e is to tie the knot.' Harold s queezed pas t J ulie and entered the offic e. He s m iled warm ly, revealing a s et of tom bs tone teeth, and s hook m y hand. 'Y es , yes , I heard from Dr Gore this m orning. Congratulations , Gervas e. S he's a lovely young wom an, Mis s B entley. Y ou are a very luc ky m an.' 'I know,' I s aid. 'Dr Y eats ,' s aid J ulie, 'm ay I as k where you've been? I was expec ting you a lot earlier.' 'W ith Dr Gore, J ulie,' he replied. 'Didn't I tell you?' 'No, and if you've s een Dr Gore, did B renda the barrac uda find you?' 'T he w hat?' as ked Harold, his brow furrowing. 'Mrs S avage. S he wants the ins pec tors ' program m es for next week.' 'A h, yes , I did s ee her when I was leaving Dr Gore's offic e and s he m entioned s om ething of the s ort. B ut that c an wait. Now, look everyone, would you all s it down for a m om ent, there's s om ething very im portant I have to s ay. I did think of waiting to tell you at a full team m eeting but, as you know, Geraldine is on the A s s oc iation of S c ienc e in E duc ation Conferenc e in Y ork this week s o won't be able to join us .' 'I was wondering where our pale Iris h beauty was ,' rem arked S idney. 'S he's not the m os t forthc om ing of people. I had no idea s he was on a c ours e this week.' 'W ell, s he is ,' s aid Harold. 'A nyhow, if you would all give m e your attention and you, too, J ulie, if you would s tay for a m om ent, pleas e. If I delay telling you all, the news is s ure to leak out and I do want you to be the firs t to know.' 'Leak out! ' repeated J ulie, s neering. 'If Mrs S avage gets to hear of it, whatever it is , there'll be a tidal wave, never m ind a leak, going through County Hall.'

'A h yes ,' s aid Harold. 'W ell, I expec t Mrs S avage will get to know s om etim e today.' 'If it's bad news , Harold,' s aid S idney, 'I don't want to know. It's the s tart of the s c hool holidays and I need a res t. I do not want depres s ing news , extra work, c ontentious is s ues , problem s , diffic ulties or c om plaints .' Harold gave a weak s m ile. 'W ell, S idney, I don't know whether it's good or bad news to be hones t.' He paus ed and touc hed his brow with his long fingers . 'I'm going to retire.' 'Retire?' we all s houted in unis on. 'T hat's right, I've dec ided to finis h but not im m ediately. I'll be around for s om e tim e yet. Dr Gore has as ked m e to s ee out the next ac adem ic year whic h is only fair. T hat gives him the c hanc e of advertis ing m y job, s hortlis ting and interviewing in good tim e for m y replac em ent to s tart next S eptem ber. T hat's why I was with Dr Gore this m orning.' 'W hatever has brought this on?' exc laim ed David.' I've been thinking about it for s om e tim e,' s aid Harold. 'B ut why, Harold?' I as ked. 'A re you all right, phys ic ally, I m ean?' 'Oh yes , I'm fine, there's nothing wrong with m e - apart from feeling things are getting a bit too m uc h. A ll the travelling and the late evenings have taken their toll this pas t year. I've been reviewing things a little lately, m y future, what I want to do with the res t of m y life and, to be frank, I'm ready to finis h.' J ulie arc hed an eyebrow and gave m e a knowing look. 'Y ou c an't finis h, Harold! ' s napped S idney. 'It's out of the ques tion.' 'Y es , I c an, S idney,' s aid Harold s oftly. 'I've had enough. Las t term was partic ularly diffic ult. T hat s c hool c los ure was s uc h a tim e-c ons um ing and wearis om e bus ines s , then the inc reas ed num ber of ins pec tions and the additional dem ands from the Minis try. I'm tired, S idney, I'm very tired. A ll thos e c onferenc es away from hom e, weekend c ours es , diffic ult m eetings , lengthy reports , ins pec tions and late nights attending this , that and the other. I don't have to tell you what it's like. I'm ready to pas s the baton to a younger pers on with m ore s tam ina than I have at the m om ent. I s uppos e it c am e hom e to m e a c ouple of weekends ago. J anet and I went for a day to S c arborough to blow away a few c obwebs . W e were walking along the North S hore and we c am e upon a m an in a s ort of booth with a big s ign in the front s aying that if he was unable to gues s your age within a year you would win a prize. W ell, I won a prize. I'm fifty-nine next birthday and he gues s ed m y age at s ixty-four.' ''Oh, Harold, that's nothing,' s aid S idney. 'I m ean, look at David. He looks c ons iderably older than you and he's s till m anaging to c arry on.' 'T hank you, S idney,' s ighed David. 'W hen we were ins pec ting that little s c hool at B arton Moor together las t term one little boy, you m us t rem em ber, David, as ked if you were Dean's great-granddad, there to talk about your experienc es in the trenc hes . Do you rec all?' 'I had forgotten, but am m os t grateful to you for rem inding m e,' David told him . 'S o you s ee Harold,' c ontinued S idney, 'you're only as old as you feel.' 'T he problem is , S idney,' s aid Harold, giving another weak s m ile, 'I s om etim es feel about eighty.' 'W e all feel tired at the end of a bus y term , Harold,' I s aid. 'Y ou'll feel a whole lot better after a holiday and a good res t.' 'E xac tly,' agreed S idney. 'Now, put further thoughts of retiring from your m ind.' 'I'm afraid I c an't do that, S idney,' s aid Harold, 'I'm ready to finis h and I have m ade up m y m ind. W hic h is exac tly what I have told Dr Gore. A s I s aid, I wanted to give him tim e to find the bes t replac em ent, s o you won't get rid of m e jus t yet.' 'B ut when do you intend to finis h?' as ked J ulie who, until now, had been s tunned into s ilenc e. 'A s I s aid, I hope to s ee out the ac adem ic year. P robably J uly, perhaps a little earlier. I s hall take things a bit eas ier and c ut out s om e of the late m eetings .' 'Good God, Harold, you're s erious ,' whis pered S idney. 'W ell, I'm devas tated, Harold,' s aid David. 'I don't m ind s aying s o. I'm c om pletely los t for words .' 'Has n't that proverbial old W els h grandm other of yours got an apt little s aying for the oc c as ion?' as ked S idney, s haking his head. 'I s uppos e s he'd s ay what s he s aid about Lloyd George,' s aid David s adly. 'W e will never s ee his like again.' 'T hat's m os t kind of you, David,' s aid Harold, 'but life does go on. None of us is indis pens able.' 'T his is a s hoc k, Harold,' I s aid. 'It really is .' 'It's quite dreadful news , Harold, dreadful,' c ontinued S idney. 'I feel phys ic ally s ic k. I jus t c annot take it in. I m ean, I'll probably hate your replac em ent.' 'B eggar the thought,' s aid David. 'Y ou not get on with people? T he very idea.' 'I s uppos e the pers on taking over c ould be an internal prom otion, s om eone on the team already,' s aid S idney. 'P leas e don't think I am c ons idering applying m ys elf, I am far too long in the tooth. Geraldine has jus t s tarted s o s he's out of the running and David is definitely pas t it.' 'T hank you,' c hipped in his c olleague. 'Rem ind m e to c hec k when m y s tair lift is being ins talled.' 'Y ou know what I m ean, David,' S idney told him . 'No, I was thinking of Gervas e. W hat about Gervas e taking over? He c ould do it.' 'Now hold on, S idney,' I s aid hurriedly. 'T hat is really not for m e to s ay, S idney,' s aid Harold. 'T he pos t will be advertis ed and Gervas e's applic ation, s hould he wis h to apply, will be c ons idered along with the res t.' 'B ut you c ould put a good word in with the powers that be, Harold,' pers is ted S idney. 'Y ou over-es tim ate m y influenc e, S idney,' replied Harold. 'Now, the s ugges tion of Gervas e having a go for the job,' s aid David thoughtfully, 'is not at all a bad idea, s om ething on whic h we c ould c ertainly agree, S idney. "B etter the devil you know", as m y W els h grandm other was wont to rem ark.' 'Do I get a s ay in all this ?' I as ked. B efore anyone c ould ans wer, the telephone on m y des k rang and I s natc hed it up. 'Y es , Mrs S avage, Dr Y eats is here. I'll pas s you over to him .' * For the rem ainder of the day I attem pted to knuc kle down to s om e s erious work in the hope of c learing m y des k of as m uc h paper as pos s ible, but m y thoughts kept wandering. I had s tarted the day thinking about the pas t year and now I c ould not get the year ahead out of m y m ind. T here would be the wedding, of c ours e, m arried life, buying a hous e and now there was s om ething els e - Harold's s hoc k announc em ent. 'W hat about Gervas e taking over?' S idney had s aid. I would have to think long and hard about that one.

3 Connie, the c aretaker of the S taff Developm ent Centre, was a good-hearted, down-to-earth Y orks hire wom an with an ac erbic wit and wonderful c om m and of the m os t inventive m alapropis m s and non s equiturs . S he had no c onc eption of rank, s tatus or pos ition and treated everyone exac tly the s am e - with a bluntnes s bordering on the rude. If the P ope him s elf were to pay a vis it to the S taff Developm ent Centre and m ake us e of the was hroom fac ilities , Connie would no doubt have detained His Holines s as he departed, with the words : 'I hope you've left them Gents as you found them ! ' W ere the Queen to grac e the portals of the S DC, Connie would have no c om punc tion in telling Her Majes ty to wipe her feet before entering and to return her c up to the s erving hatc h after us e. S hould the P rim e Minis ter enter the building, Connie would have not the s lightes t hes itation in as king the right honourable gentlem an, as s he as ked all vis itors , if he had parked his c ar well away from the front doors bec aus e bloc king her entranc e was a health and s afety hazard. It was unthinkable that s he was at the end of any c hain of c om m and, that s he c ould be direc ted to c arry out ins truc tions or, peris h the thought, be given s uc h a thing as an order. It was Connie who was at the c ontrols when people were on her territory. Connie c ould be quite unnerving. T eac hers attending c ours es at the Centre would be lis tening to a s peaker and, glanc ing up, would s ee Connie's round, florid fac e grim ac ing at the door. During the c offee-break they would find an am ple wom an with a bright c opper-c oloured perm and dres s ed in a brilliant pink nylon overall hovering in the bac kground, us ually s urveying them with a m alevolent expres s ion. A t lunc htim e they would be eating their s andwic hes nervous ly, m aking c ertain not a c rum b fell on the s potles s c arpet, s ens ing that s m all s harp eyes , like thos e of a blac kbird s earc hing for a worm , were watc hing from behind the s erving hatc h. A nd when, at the end of the day, the equipm ent had been put neatly away, the c hairs c arefully s tac ked, the room s left in an orderly fas hion, litter plac ed in the appropriate rec eptac les and all c roc kery returned to the kitc hen, Connie would s tride around her em pire, feather dus ter held like a field-m ars hal's baton, her nylon overall c rac kling, to m ake s ure that everything was left as it had been found earlier that day. A nd woe betide anyone who flouted thes e unwritten rules . T he S taff Developm ent Centre, where all the c ours es and c onferenc es for teac hers and m os t of the s taff interviews took plac e, was a tribute to Connie's hard work and dedic ation. S he s c rubbed and s c oured, polis hed and dus ted, m opped and wiped with a vengeanc e. T he building, ins ide and out, was always im m ac ulately c lean and tidy, not a s pec k of dus k or a s c uff m ark was to be s een anywhere and it always s m elt of lavender furniture polis h and c arbolic s oap. T he toilets were her pride and joy. T he porc elain s parkled, the bras s pipes s hone, the tiles s him m ered, the floors gleam ed. T he S taff Developm ent Centre was Connie's palac e. If any one of us was ever inc lined to s ugges t to her that s he s hould s how a little m ore deferenc e and res pec t, that pers on would des is t, knowing that deep down this wom an had a heart of gold and that no one c ould do the job better than s he. E veryone who knew her was prepared to tolerate her abrupt m anner and s harp tongue for thos e very reas ons . E veryone, that is , exc ept S idney. S idney - nois y, unpredic table, untidy, m adly c reative - was s om eone guaranteed to ruffle the feathers of her dus ter and wind Connie up to dis trac tion. I arrived at the S DC one dull Friday afternoon in the third week of the new term to prepare for an E nglis h c ours e I was to direc t the following Monday. In the entranc e hall s tood Connie, in fierc e dis c us s ion with the m an him s elf. S he was dres s ed, as us ual, in her pink nylon overall and was c lutc hing her feather dus ter m agis terially. 'Look here, Connie,' S idney was trying to explain to her, 'you have to ac c ept a bit of a m es s . For goodnes s s ake, it was an art c ours e. A rt is not like m athem atic s , you know, it's not orderly, it's not m ethodic al, it's not tidy. W e artis ts us e m es s y m aterials like paints , c harc oals , c rayons , c lay, c ardboard, glue, penc ils , paper.' He waved his hands about theatric ally as if c onduc ting s om e invis ible orc hes tra. 'P eople have to expres s them s elves in art, be c reative, im aginative and they are therefore often untidy. It's par for the c ours e.' Connie pulled one of her m any expres s ions of dis tas te, the fac e of s om eone s uffering from ac ute indiges tion. 'W ell, it's not part of my c ours e, Mr Clam p,' s he retorted, 'and I don't want thes e artis ts , as you c all them , expres s ing them s elves like that in my Centre. T hey c an c lear up after them s elves . T hey do have hands , I take it, if they are doing all thes e c reative c arryings -on. T hen they c an us e thos e hands to c lear up and they don't need to leave a trail of debris and des truc tion behind like what they have this afternoon.' 'Hardly a trail of debris and des truc tion,' s ighed S idney. 'Oh, yes , they did, Mr Clam p, and I c an't be doing with it. E ven m y little grands on wouldn't leave a m es s like that.' S idney c ontinued to wave his hands elaborately before him . 'E ins tein s aid that genius is s eldom tidy.' 'I don't c are what E ins tein or any of your other artific ated friends have to s ay. I am not c leaning up that m es s and that's that. It's all very well for you and this E ins tein to leave the room as if a bom b has hit it, I'm the one left to pic k up the piec es . I'm telling you, I don't intend pic king up thos e piec es that you've left today. I m ean, it's jus t not fair to expec t m e to do it, Mr Clam p.' 'Firs t of all, Connie,' s aid S idney, 'E ins tein is dead.' 'W ell, I'm very s orry to hear it, I'm s ure, but that's no exc us e for the m es s that was left in that room . It was s potles s when you went in this m orning, you c ould have eaten your dinner off of that floor, and look at it now. A nyway,' s he s aid, flouris hing her feather dus ter along a window ledge, 'it's m y bingo night and I'm not m is s ing the firs t hous e jus t bec aus e I have to s top here to c lear up.' 'Good afternoon,' I s aid in a loud and c heerful voic e, determ ined to get their attention s inc e until then neither s eem ed to have notic ed m e. 'Hello, Gervas e,' m oaned S idney. 'Good afternoon,' s aid Connie through tight little lips . 'A nyhow, I've s aid what I had to s ay, Mr Clam p, and I ins is t that you will s ee to it that that room is left as you found it before you go. I c ould let this Centre go to rac k and ruin but I keep it nic e and tidy.' 'I know you do, Connie,' began S idney. 'It's no s kin off m y feet if it was jus t left but you'd be s oon c om plaining if you found the room like that at the s tart of y our c ours e.' 'V ery well, Connie,' S idney told her, bowing with a flouris h. 'I give in. I s urrender. I yield, I s hall rem ain behind and return the art room to its pris tine s plendour and perhaps m y kind and obliging c olleague here will lend a helpful hand.' 'Oh, no! ' I s pluttered. 'I'm s orry, S idney, but I have a c ours e to prepare and then I'm m eeting Chris tine at Mam a's P izza P arlour. Y ou're on your own.' 'W hat happened to friends hip and c am araderie?' as ked S idney to no one in partic ular. 'W hither went T he Good S am aritan?' 'He probably didn't have a date and it was n't his bingo night,' I replied flippantly. 'V ery droll,' s aid S idney. 'W ell, jus t s o long as it gets done,' c am e Connie's final ripos te before s he m arc hed off down the c orridor, flic king the feather dus ter at invis ible dus t and c rac kling as s he went. 'T hat wom an,' s aid S idney through c lam ped teeth, 'will drive m e to drink.' 'S peaking of drink,' I s aid, 'I'll s ee if I c an get Connie to rus tle you up a c up of tea before you s tart the blitz of the art room . Y ou m ight be there s om e tim e.' 'S he'll probably put toilet bleac h in it if s he knows it's for m e, and c ons idering the m ood I'm in at the m om ent, I would probably drink it. B ut, c om e on, Gervas e,' he pleaded, 'lend a hand, there's a good fellow.' 'I'm s orry, S idney, but I c an't. I jus t don't have the tim e.' 'T hat dragon in pink will be watc hing m y every m ove.' 'Don't judge her too hars hly,' I s aid. 'Her heart's in the right plac e.' 'T he right plac e for Connie's heart, dear boy,' replied S idney, s um m oning up a faint s m ile, 'is on the end of a s take.' W ith that he departed for the art room to tidy up. Having c hec ked the equipm ent in the E nglis h room , s et out the c hairs , dis played a range of books and m aterials and put a program m e on eac h table, I headed for the kitc hen. B y this tim e S idney, who had m ade a half-hearted attem pt to c lear up the m es s in the art room , had c rept away. Connie was vigorous ly wiping the Form ic a top of the s erving hatc h. 'Right, that's s orted,' I told her. 'I hope the art room is ,' s he s napped. 'T hat Mr Clam p will drive m e to drink. I don't know how you c an s hare an offic e with him . I've never m et anyone s o untidy. A nd that Mr P ritc hard is not a whole lot better, forever leaving his equipm ent all over the plac e. A nyway, have you got everything you need for Monday?' s he as ked. 'Y es , all ready and prepared.' 'I put another bulb in the overhead projec tor, jus t to be on the s afe s ide.' 'T hank you, Connie.' 'A nd I put s om e extra paper on the flip c hart.' 'T hat's very good of you.' 'A nd I've put out s om e m ore felt tip m arkers . I know how you like to write.' 'T hank you, Connie.' 'Do you want a c up of tea?' I glanc ed at m y watc h. I was not intending to go hom e before m eeting Chris tine s o had a bit of tim e to kill. 'Y es , thanks .' A s Connie c lanked and c lattered in the c upboard behind the hatc h, I had vis ions of her and S idney, having driven eac h other to drink, ending up in the s am e drying-out c linic . Not a happy thought, and I pus hed it from m y wic ked m ind. 'S o, was your s um m er holiday better than las t year?' I as ked her. Connie had had a dis as trous tim e in Ireland the previous s um m er. 'W e didn't go nowhere this year,' s he s aid, pris ing the top off a large tin of bis c uits , 'exc ept for a c ouple of weekends in the c aravan at Mablethorpe, and then it rained all the tim e.' S he adopted another expres s ion from her extens ive repertoire. 'My father went into hos pital and I was traips ing bac k and forth for m os t of the tim e.' 'I'm s orry to hear that, Connie,' I s aid. 'Is it s erious ?' 'He had a s troke. He was at the Legion playing dom inoes when it happened. Next thing he was in c as ualty and he's been in ever s inc e. He's getting on, you know. Ninety-two next birthday and he s till lives on his own. He's very independent is Dad, and been fit as a butc her's dog until now. Never had s o m uc h as a c old in his life before this happened, and he was down the pit for nearly forty years . He s m okes like a c him ney, eats a full fried breakfas t every m orning, blac k pudding inc luded, and he likes a drink. T he doc tor s aid it had c aught up with him . I s aid to the doc tor, "W ell, whatever it is that's c aught up with him , it's took its tim e." "W ell, you have to expec t thes e things at his tim e of life," s ays he. "He's a good age." "Y es , well, that's as m ay be," I told him , "but I want m y father looking after. I don't want any of this euthenoria bus ines s you read about. If he goes into one of them c om as ," I told him , "don't you dare turn him off. He fought for his king and c ountry. He des erves top treatm ent, the RIP s ort." T hat's what I told him .' 'S o he's s till in hos pital, you s ay?' I as ked, attem pting to s uppres s a s m ile. 'Y es , s till there. Mind you, he's a lot better than he was when he went in. He was s itting up and entertaining the nurs es when I las t s aw him .' 'W ell, that's good news ,' I s aid. 'P erhaps you'll be able to get a holiday later this m onth.' 'No, I don't like leaving this plac e in term tim e, what with all the c ours es and c onferenc es and interviews on. More trouble than it's worth. Can you im agine what m es s I'd find in the art room if I left it for a c ouple of weeks ?' I s wiftly s teered her away from a c ontinuation of the s aga of S idney and the art room . 'W ell, I hope it won't be too long before your father's hom e.' 'Oh yes , well, we'll jus t have to hope and pray. He was wanting to go to the Cenotaph in London again this year with his B ritis h Legion pals . He's a Dunkirk veteran as well, you know. He always looks forward to his trip to London. A ll dres s ed up in his blazer and flannel trous ers with c reas es like knife edges , wearing his m edals , but I s houldn't think he'll m ake it this year. I'm s o proud of him when I s ee them m arc hing pas t the Cenotaph. T hey want to get s om e of thes e young hooligans in the arm y. T hey have no apprec iation or gratitude for what the older generation did for them .' Connie began pouring the tea. 'W ell, I hope he'll be hom e s oon,' I s aid, ac c epting the proffered m ug. I dec ided it was tim e to c hange the s ubjec t. 'I'm getting m arried, you know.' 'Y ou're not, are you?' s he gas ped, paus ing in her pouring. 'Is it that nic e young wom an with the blonde hair, Mis s B entley?' 'W ell, it's not likely to be anyone els e, Connie, is it?' I laughed. 'I'm not exac tly your Cas anova.' 'W ell, you never know,' s he s aid, s tarting to pour her tea again. 'Y ou s eem to be very pally with that little nun. T hat S is ter B renda.' 'S is ter B rendan.' 'T hat's her. Y ou s eem to hit it off with her and no m is take. S he's forever on your c ours es .' 'Nuns are c elibate, Connie,' I told her. 'T hey're c eli-what?' 'T hey're not allowed to get m arried.' 'Y es , well, as I've s aid to you before, I had no idea s he was a nun when I firs t m et her. I was talking to her as if s he was a norm al pers on. T here was no long blac k s kirt or headgear. I didn't know s he was a nun. S he looked like an air hos tes s in that dark blue s uit and with her hair all buffeted up. If they c an drive c ars and dres s like that, I rec kon it won't be long before they're getting m arried. A nyway, I hope you and Mis s B entley will be very happy.' 'T hanks , Connie.' 'Y ou've not known her that long, have you? In m y day, we us ed to walk out together for a few years before we dec ided to get m arried. I think the reas on for all the divorc es thes e days is that people rus h into it.' 'I've been going out with Chris tine for nearly two years .' 'T hat does n't m ean a thing. No, gone are the days of long c ourts hips and c haperones and getting engaged and as king fathers for their daughter's hand. T hes e days , m os t people don't s eem to bother with m arriage. T hey "live over the brus h", as m y m other would s ay. T hey don't have hus bands and wives nowadays , they have partners . I as k you! T hat's what you have on the danc e floor, a partner. Y ou wonder what the world's c om ing to, don't you? T ake m y c ous in's girl. S he's at W es t Challerton High, s uppos ed to be doing her exam s this year. S he c hanges her boyfriends as often as s he c hanges her knic kers . I s aid to m y c ous in, "It'll end in grief, you m ark m y words ."' Connie took a gulp of tea and grim ac ed. 'A nyway, I hope you'll have a very happy life together.' 'T hank you, Connie.' 'T ed and m e have been m arried for thirty-five years , you know, and hardly a c ros s word has pas s ed between us .' I had m et T ed on a few oc c as ions . He was a s m all, quiet m an with a perm anently worried expres s ion. I gues s ed that Connie's long-s uffering hus band had thrown in the towel years ago. Connie topped up her m ug and then pic ked a bis c uit out of the tin. 'I'm glad you've c alled in today bec aus e I wanted to have a quiet word with you.' Oh no, I thought, what now? 'Did I leave the room in - ' I began. 'No, no, nothing like that. Y ou're quite tidy c om pared to the others .' Dam ned with faint prais e, I thought. 'It's Mis s P ilkington I wanted to have a word with you about.' Mis s P ilkington was the headteac her of W illingforth P rim ary, the s c hool whic h Connie's grandc hildren, Dam ien and Luc y, attended. I had never heard Connie des c ribe anyone in s uc h glowing term s as s he had done this head-teac her. 'S he's exc ellent, Mis s P ilkington,' Connie had c onfided to m e one day, as s he had was hed the dis hes at the end of a training c ours e. 'A wom an after m y own heart. S he does n't s tand no nons ens e, I c an tell you, not like s om e of thes e airy-fairy, wis hy-was hy teac hers you hear about.' Connie had gone on for a good ten m inutes telling m e how happy her grandc hildren were at W illingforth, how m uc h they were learning and what a beautifully c lean s c hool it was . W hen I had finally got around to vis iting the s c hool I had found that Connie's as s es s m ent was s pot on. 'S o what about Mis s P ilkington?' I as ked now. 'S he's having a bit of trouble at the m om ent. I m ean, I don't s uppos e it's for m e to s ay really. A s you well know, I'm not one for gos s ip, but I do think one of you ins pec tors ought to c all in - and not Mr Clam p, he'd only m ake it wors e.' 'W ell, it's funny that you s hould m ention W illingforth,' I s aid. 'I've had a reques t from Mis s P ilkington to go and s ee her next week.' 'A h well, that's it then. I'll s ay no m ore.' S he took a gulp of tea. 'B ut if they don't rem ove him , there'll be fireworks .' 'Rem ove him ?' I repeated, intrigued. 'A s I s aid, I'm not a hot gos s iper but I s hall s ay m y piec e and then s ay no m ore. My Luc y c am e hom e at the beginning of this term with tales that would m ake your hair c url.' S he produc ed a new and wonderfully grues om e expres s ion from her repertoire of fac es , 'T here's this new boy. T erry they c all him . T erry the T error. T erry, the s torm in a T -s hirt. He's c om e from a really bad hom e, I heard, being fos tered by a doc tor in the village. A nd he's a right little handful. "P ut the pas te on the table, T erry," s ays Mis s P ilkington to him and he does jus t that. He pas tes all the table-top as if he's painting a pic ture. "I c an s ee your c oat on the floor, T erry," s ays Mis s P ilkington to him . "Y es , s o c an I," he s ays , walking pas t. Cheeky little devil. He's rude, badly behaved and m y Luc y s ays he s pits and s wears . He wants a good s m ac k, that's what he wants . Cours e you're not allowed to lay a finger on them thes e days , are you? I tell you, it never did m e any harm . Mis s P ilkington's at the end of her tether with this lad, s o m y daughter tells m e.' Connie took another gulp of tea. 'A nd there's m oves afoot.' 'Moves ?' 'T o have him s ent to another s c hool.' 'W ell, I'm going to be there next week, Connie,' I told her. 'T hanks for the tea. I'll s ee you on Monday. Oh, and I hope your father im proves .' Half an hour later, I was s itting at a c orner table in Mam a's P izza P arlour, waiting for Chris tine. Mam a's was a s m all fam ily res taurant, rather dark but very atm os pheric and tuc ked away down a narrow alleyway jus t off Fettles ham High S treet. W e had arranged to m eet there early before going on to s ee an am ateur produc tion of A ntony and Cleopatra, perform ed by the Netherfoot T hes pians . One of Chris tine's friends was taking part. I was intrigued to find out how a group of m otley am ateurs would s tage s uc h an epic S hakes pearean dram a. A s the c loc k s truc k s ix Chris tine arrived. S he m ade heads turn as s he walked towards m e. 'E xc us e m e, young m an,' s he s aid, 'm ay I join you?' 'Of c ours e,' I replied, 'but I m us t warn you, I find you a devilis hly attrac tive wom an and I m ight jus t leap over the table and have m y wic ked way with you.' 'S s s h,' s he s aid, laughing, 'people will hear. Have you been waiting long for m e?' 'A ll m y life,' I s ighed. 'I've been des perately hoping agains t hope that one day I would m eet the wom an of m y dream s . Let m e s wim in thos e lim pid pools whic h are your eyes , hold your lithe body in m y arm s and s m other hot kis s es on thos e yielding lips .' 'W ill you be s erious ! If you won't be s ens ible I s hall pour this jug of water over you. T hat s hould c ool your burning ardour.' How lovely s he was , I thought to m ys elf as I looked at m y wife-to-be ac ros s the table. W hat a luc ky m an I am . 'S o how's Harold?' Chris tine as ked, glanc ing down the m enu. I had told her of Harold's intention to retire at the end of the s c hool year and had rais ed with her the pos s ibility of m y applying for his job. S he had been les s than enthus ias tic , s ugges ting I would have enough on m y plate with what was already a relatively new job, a new wife and a new hous e, without taking on additional res pons ibilities at work. 'Of c ours e, I'll bac k you if you really want to go for it,' s he had told m e, half-heartedly, 'but don't you think it's a bit s oon for you to s tart applying for a s enior pos ition like that? T hink of all the extra work. I would like to s ee m y hus band other than jus t at the weekend.' 'Y ou s ound as if I've already got it,' I had s aid, rather dis appointed by her res pons e. 'W ell, you m us t be in with a c hanc e,' s he had replied. I had c ertainly been thinking about it a great deal s inc e Harold had m ade the s hoc k announc em ent a c ouple of m onths before, and it was c lear that it had als o been on Chris tine's m ind as well, although we hadn't s poken m uc h about it. 'S o, how's Harold?' s he as ked now. 'Oh, he's fine. I told him at the beginning of the s c hool holidays , when he looked worn out, that the s um m er break would rec harge his batteries . He c ertainly s eem s bac k to his old s elf: getting in early, working late, attending all thos e m eetings . P ers onally, I think he needed a good holiday.' 'P erhaps he'll c hange his m ind.' 'A bout what?' 'A bout retiring.' 'No, I don't think s o. He's pretty determ ined.' 'A nd are you?' as ked Chris tine. S he looked up from the m enu. 'A m I what?' I as ked. 'Determ ined - to apply for this job?' I opened m y m outh to ans wer but the waiter arrived at the table with a bottle of c ham pagne in a s ilver buc ket. 'For you, m adam , and you, s ir,' he s aid. 'Oh, how lovely! ' c ried Chris tine. 'W hat a nic e thought.' S he leaned over the table and s queezed m y hand.

'I didn't order any c ham pagne,' I s aid. 'A gentlem an c alled in earlier,' the waiter inform ed m e. 'It is with his c om plim ents .' He pluc ked a c ard from his wais tc oat poc ket and plac ed it on the table before m e. 'Congratulations ,' it s aid in a large unm is takable s c ript, 'on c apturing the m os t beautiful wom an in Y orks hire. I am s ure you will both be idyllic ally happy. Give Chris tine a kis s for m e. S C.' 'S idney,' I s aid, s haking m y head and s m iling. I pas s ed Chris tine the c ard. 'How s weet of him .' A fter the waiter had opened the c ham pagne, and had poured us both a glas s , I toas ted m y future wife. 'T o us , m y darling, and to what lies ahead of us .' Her blue eyes s hone. 'T o us .' A nd we c linked glas s es . A fter the firs t exhilarating s ip of the bubbly wine, I s aid, 'Look, Chris tine, I've not really m ade up m y m ind about applying but I am c ertainly not ruling it out.' S he reac hed ac ros s the table and took m y hand again. 'Gervas e, I don't s ee all that m uc h of you now. W hat is it going to be like if you have Harold's work load? Don't you really think you'll have enough on this year?' 'Y es , of c ours e,' I replied, 'but the job won't s tart until next S eptem ber.' 'A nd take S idney. Y ou get on really well with him as a c olleague, and David as well, but what if you bec om e their bos s ? T hey are lovely, warm , friendly people but I s hould im agine they c an be s om ething of a nightm are to m anage. I jus t want you to give it s om e s erious thought.' 'I will, I prom is e.' I c hanged the s ubjec t. 'Now, what about tom orrow? A re we s till hous e hunting?'

4 W illingforth P rim ary S c hool res em bled a pros perous , well-m aintained private res idenc e. It was s et bac k from the m ain road, whic h ran the length of the s m all pic tures que village, tuc ked behind the Norm an c hurc h and the village pond. It was an im pos ing grey s tone Georgian building with high leaded windows , eac h s porting a pair of white s hutters , and a large oak-panelled door with bras s knoc ker in the s hape of a s m iling ram 's head. T o the front was a s m all, well-tended lawn with a s undial and tubs of bright geranium s s till untouc hed by fros t. A c as ual vis itor to the village, s trolling pas t, would have no idea that this was a s c hool. T here was no playground or notic eboard, no nois e of bois terous c hildren. T he door opened into one large bright c las s room . T he walls were pale blue, the long patterned c urtains at the window s om ewhat darker, while the high c urved roof s upports were painted in navy-blue and c ream . In one c orner, on a s quare of c arpet, were three fat reading c us hions and a s m all bookc as e filled with pic ture books . On the wall above, in pride of plac e, was a large c oloured s am pler dec orated with the m otto 'S T RA IGHT W ORDS , S T RA IGHT DE E DS , S T RA IGHT B A CK S '. T he c hildren, s itting on s olid, s traight-bac ked wooden c hairs , worked at highly-polis hed des ks c om plete with lids and holes for inkwells . T his was a c las s room like no other I had vis ited. T he view of the dale from the c las s room window was breathtaking. A c re upon ac re of fields , c ris s -c ros s ed by lim es tone walls , s loped gently upwards to a long s c ar of white roc k, wind-s c oured and c raggy. In the far dis tanc e c louds oozed over the fell tops . I was at the s c hool very early that m ild autum n day at the reques t of the headteac her, Mis s P ilkington. I had rec eived a blow-by-blow ac c ount of Mis s P ilkington well before I had m et her s om e two years before. Connie, m y inform ant, had des c ribed the headteac her as 'one of the old s c hool'. I had rather expec ted a dragon of a wom an, with c old pierc ing eyes behind s teel-rim m ed s pec tac les . B ut I was wrong. Mis s P ilkington had turned out to be a tall, extrem ely elegant wom an, probably in her late forties . S he had a s tream line figure, flawles s m ake-up and wore des igner c lothes . 'Mis s P ilkington', I had written in m y report following m y firs t vis it, 'is a teac her of high c alibre.' Her les s ons were well planned and organis ed, s he had extrem ely good s ubjec t knowledge and had an exc ellent relations hip with the c hildren. Her s tandards were high and dis c ipline c ould not have been better. My c onvers ation with Connie at the S DC the week before this c urrent vis it had given m e enough inform ation to know what the m eeting that m orning was likely to be about. Of c ours e, I was not going to let on to Mis s P ilkington that I had been dis c us s ing the s ituation with one of the grandparents who als o happened to be the c leaner at the S taff Developm ent Centre. T he headteac her was waiting to greet m e. S he was dres s ed in a well-c ut s uit, a c ream s ilk s c arf tied neatly round her nec k. S he looked rather pale and drawn. 'Good m orning, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid, 'it's very nic e to s ee you again. I am s o grateful that you have m anaged to c om e out s o early. I really do need your advic e.' 'I'm here to lis ten, Mis s P ilkington,' I s aid. 'W ell, s hall we s it down and I'll explain. W e have about twenty m inutes before the c hildren arrive.' S he indic ated two elegant c hairs at the s ide of the room . 'I really do have s om ething of a problem and I need to talk it through with s om ebody.' S he s at s tiffly on one of the c hairs , c las ped her hands in front of her and took a breath. I c ould s ee s he was c learly very worried. 'A t the beginning of the term , a new boy arrived. T erry Mos s up is his nam e. He is being fos tered by a loc al doc tor and her hus band and, from what I gather, he is from a very deprived bac kground. I unders tand that there had been s om e abus e and there has c ertainly been a great deal of neglec t. I would gues s that he was allowed to do what he wanted and had no c ons is tent treatm ent by adults and no s tability in his hom e life. Quite frankly, Mr P hinn, I am at a los s to know what to do.' A t this point, Mis s P ilkington ros e from her c hair and pac ed up and down the s m all s pac e in front of us . 'I've been a teac her for twenty-five years and have never ever c om e ac ros s a c hild like this one. He is jus t unm anageable. I never thought I would adm it this to anyone but he is driving m e to dis trac tion. Mos t of the tim e he is rude, very naughty and des truc tive but then at other tim es he is totally unc om m unic ative and jus t s its there as if in a tranc e. A t one m om ent he's pic king on the other c hildren, s houting out in c las s , refus ing to do his work and then a m om ent later he's taking a s pider that he's found and gently putting it outs ide. He's the only one the c at lets s troke her and he likes nothing better than feeding the birds at playtim e. I've had a word with his fos ter parents , who m us t be s aints to take him on, and they have as ked m e to pers evere with him . Oh dear,' s he s aid, s winging round to fac e m e, 'you m us t think I c an't c ope.' 'No, not at all,' I has tily reas s ured her, 'pleas e go on.' 'His fos ter parents don't want him to go to one of thes e s c hools that deals with dis ruptive pupils . T hey are very bus y people - s he's a doc tor in W es t Challerton, and he's got an offic e of s om e s ort there, too - and they would have to drive T erry in the oppos ite direc tion to the s pec ial s c hool in Crom pton if he were to go there, and then c ollec t him again later. In any c as e, they feel he s hould feel part of this s m all c om m unity and be treated as jus t a norm al little boy. Now, that is all very well, Mr P hinn,' c ontinued Mis s P ilkington, a nervous ras h c reeping up her nec k, 'but he is not jus t a norm al little boy and I have the other c hildren to think about. I have already had a num ber of parents c om plaining about his behaviour and two have threatened to take their c hildren away from W illingforth unles s I... well, to be blunt, get rid of him .' Mis s P ilkington s at bac k down on her c hair, twis ting a handkerc hief nervous ly in her hands . 'T he Chair of Governors , Canon S hepherd, is c alling in to s ee m e at lunc h-tim e with one of the parent-governors who has as ked for the boy's rem oval. W e have an extraordinary governors ' m eeting this evening to dec ide what to do. T he c anon is all for giving the c hild a c hanc e but the other governor, who repres ents the m ajority view on the Governing B ody, is determ ined that T erry s hould go.' S he paus ed to get a breath and looked down at her lap. W hen our eyes m et again, I s aw tears . 'I've been a teac her for m any years , Mr P hinn, and I think it is fair to s ay that I have been dedic ated to this profes s ion. I've always believed that c hildren des erve the very bes t we adults have to give, all c hildren, even the very diffic ult ones . T hat's why I bec am e a teac her. T he boy's file m ade m e weep. It is a c atalogue of neglec t, m is treatm ent and deprivation. I had s uc h an advantaged life m ys elf, with parents who loved and c heris hed m e and expec ted a great deal of m e. My father never rais ed his voic e to m e, let alone his hand. T erry has had a dreadful life, a c ruel life, but he is s o very, very diffic ult and, as I s aid, I do have the other c hildren to think about. Oh dear, I jus t do not know what to do.' S he fell s ilent at las t. I took a deep breath. 'W ell,' I s ighed, 'it s ounds feeble, I know, Mis s P ilkington, but I really don't know what to advis e for the bes t. It would be eas y for m e to tell you to s truggle on, that things will get better and then walk out of the door. I don't have to teac h him . Like you, I don't believe that any c hild s hould be put on the s c rap heap, written off. W e have a duty to help all c hildren. W hen I s tarted teac hing, I rem em ber the words of S ir A lec Clegg, the CE O for the W es t Riding of Y orks hire s peaking to us at W oolley Hall College. "However dam aged, ill-favoured or repellent a c hild is ," he told us young teac hers , "you have a duty to educ ate him ." W hat is c ertain is that there is no m irac le c ure, no s im ple s olution whic h will c hange T erry overnight. It s ounds , however, as though the c hild does need s om e s pec ialis t help, m aybe a s pec ial s c hool, like the one in Crom pton, where teac hers are well equipped to deal with c hildren like this boy. I've vis ited s everal s uc h s c hools and, with a great deal of tim e and patienc e, c hildren like T erry do get better. On the other hand, if he s tays here, we c ould arrange for s om e c las s room s upport, m aybe an as s is tant or additional teac her.' 'Y ou are only putting into words what I feel, I s uppos e,' s aid Mis s P ilkington. 'I c ertainly need s om e help. T he other teac her, Mis s B ates , is away ill - I think it's s tres s to be frank - and I have all the c hildren together for the tim e being s o it's very tiring and dem anding.' 'W ell, I am c ertain we c an arrange a s upply teac her and get s om e additional help. I'll have a word with Mis s K invara, the educ ational ps yc hologis t, and as k her to m ake a vis it. S he knows a great deal m ore than I about c hildren with c hallenging behaviour.' 'T hank you, that s ounds very helpful, but would it be pos s ible, Mr P hinn, for you to s tay for the m orning s o you c an s ee the way T erry behaves , s peak to him and then s tay for the m eeting at lunc h-tim e with the governors to help us dec ide what to do. W ill you do that?' 'Of c ours e,' I replied, thinking to m ys elf that I would probably be no earthly us e whats oever. Mis s P ilkington pic ked up the c rum pled handkerc hief from her lap, dabbed her nos e and s niffed. A t the nois e of exc ited c hatter outs ide, however, her bac k vis ibly s traightened. 'If you'll exc us e m e a m om ent, Mr P hinn, I c an hear the c hildren arriving. I do like to welc om e them eac h m orning.' W ith that s he left the room . W hen the c hildren had taken off their c oats and c hanged into their indoor s hoes , they s at at their des ks ready for the regis ter to be c alled. A ll, that is , exc ept one c hild. He was a s harp-fac ed boy of about nine or ten with a s c attering of frec kles , wavy red hair and a tight little m outh whic h c urved downwards . T his , I gues s ed, was T erry. 'Com e along, pleas e, T erry,' s aid Mis s P ilkington firm ly, 'take your s eat.' 'W ho's he, then?' as ked the c hild, pointing in m y direc tion. 'T hat's Mr P hinn, and pleas e don't point, it's rude.' 'Is he a c opper?' 'J us t take a s eat will you, pleas e, T erry,' s aid the teac her. 'He looks like a c opper. A re you a c opper?' 'T erry, will you take a s eat,' repeated the teac her firm ly. 'I c an s m ell c oppers a m ile off.' T he c hild s lum ped into a c hair. 'He's either a c opper or a probation offic er.' 'A nd take what you are c hewing out of your m outh, pleas e, T erry,' s aid Mis s P ilkington. 'Haven't finis hed it yet.' He looked bac k at m e. 'I bet he is a c opper.' 'P ut what you are c hewing in here, pleas e, T erry,' s aid the teac her firm ly, holding up a was te-paper bas ket. T he boy am bled to the front and dropped a bullet of c hewing gum in the bin. W hat a c ontras t this m orning was c om pared to previous vis its . T he las t tim e I had vis ited W illingforth S c hool I had s at on that very s am e c hair watc hing with great adm iration an outs tanding teac her. Mis s P ilkington had outlined c learly to a very attentive and interes ted c las s the writing tas k to be undertaken and the c hildren had got on with their work quietly and with genuine enthus ias m . Now the les s on was dom inated by T erry who would not s it s till, would not do as he was told nor get on with his work. T he other c hildren s eem ed am azingly tolerant of this dem anding and dis ruptive c hild and m os tly ignored him , although there were one or two who s pent m ore tim e watc hing him than doing their own work. W hen he had finally been prevailed upon to s it and put s om ething on paper, I approac hed the c hild who looked up with an aggres s ive expres s ion on his s m all fac e. 'W hat?' he as ked, tos s ing bac k a head of wavy c urls . 'May I look at your work?' 'W hat for?' He s tared c oldly at m e, like a s erpent. 'B ec aus e that's what I do for a living.' 'W hat do you do, then?' 'I'm an ins pec tor.' A trium phant expres s ion c am e to his s m all fac e. 'I knew it! I knew you was a c opper.' 'S c hool ins pec tor, not a polic e ins pec tor.' He m ade a c luc king s ort of nois e and pus hed over the paper on whic h he had been writing. 'It's c rap,' he told m e. 'Don't us e that word,' I told him . 'W hy?' 'B ec aus e I s ay s o,' I s aid, looking him s traight in the eye. I then began reading what he had written. 'I don't know why you're lookin',' he s aid. 'It's no good.' 'I'm s ure it's not that bad,' I replied, c ontinuing to read. 'It is . W ait till you read it. I'm rubbis h at writing.' He pus hed out his lower lip and c lenc hed his eyebrows . 'A nyone c an s ee it's c rap.' I looked up. 'Rubbis h,' he s aid. I tried to dec ipher the c ram ped, s pidery s c rawl. 'W hat's this word?' I as ked. '"B uggered". It s ays , "I felt buggered."' 'I think the word you want is "jiggered",' I told him . 'No, I don't. I want "buggered".' 'W ell, I am s ure you c an think of a m uc h better word than that.' 'W hy?' he as ked, defiantly. 'T hat word is not a very nic e word to us e.' 'Mi m am us es it. W hat about "knac kered" then?' 'T hat's as bad,' I s aid. 'Mi m am - m i real m am , that is - s he us es that an' all.' 'W ell, it's not really a very nic e word for a boy to us e,' I s aid feebly. 'W ell, c om e on then, what word s hould I us e?' 'W ell, you c ould s ay that you were very tired or exhaus ted.' T he boy gave a wry s m ile. 'A ye, I c ould I s uppos e, but it wouldn't s ound as good as "buggered" though, would it?' He read his s c rawl in a s ing-s ong s ort of voic e following eac h word with grubby finger. '"I got hom e and flopped onto t'bed. I felt tired and exhaus ted." T hat's no good, us eles s . "B uggered" s ounds m uc h better.' I s ighed. 'P erhaps , but it's not a word a c hild s hould us e.' 'Y ou think I'm daft, don't you?' he s aid s uddenly. 'Y ou think I'm thic k.' 'Not at all,' I as s ured him . 'I think you are a bright lad but you need to behave better and not s wear nor ans wer bac k.' 'W hat you gonna do, then, if I don't? Loc k m e up?' His expres s ion was one of defianc e. 'No, I'm not going to loc k you up.' 'J us t 'c os I s peaks like this don't m ean that I'm daft, you know.' 'I never s aid you were daft,' I told him . A nd he c ertainly was not daft. If only his obvious intelligenc e and quic k wit c ould be c hannelled into s om ething worthwhile, I thought to m ys elf. 'W hat I c an't unders tand is why you don't try and behave yours elf?' 'Dunno really. Can't help m i's elf.' 'Y ou'd get on a lot better with people if you behaved.' 'S 'pos e I don't want to get on better wi' people?' he s aid, m ore rum inatively this tim e. I abandoned the line of ques tioning. 'S hall we go through your writing and s ee if we c an m ake it neater and c learer.' 'W hat's with the "we". A re you gonna do it for m e, then?' 'I'm going to try and help you with it.' 'W ell, I don't need no help. Y ou'll go c hanging all m i words .' T he c hild was indeed exhaus ting. I tried another tac k. 'Do you like reading?' 'Nope.' 'Mus ic ?' 'Nope.' 'W hat do you like?' 'Y ou as ks a bloody lot of ques tions , don't you?' B efore I c ould res pond, he s aid, m im ic king m y voic e, 'T hat's another not very nic e word for a little boy to us e.' I s hook m y head but pers evered. 'I hear you like anim als .' 'W ho told you that?' A little bird told m e,' I replied. 'I'll kill that bleeding bird. T hat's another word I'm not s uppos ed to us e, is n't it?' He was c learly aim ing to s hoc k, to get a reac tion, but I was n't going to play his little gam e. T his c hild would s urely try the patienc e of a s aint. 'S o, you do like anim als ?' I as ked again. 'S 'pos e s o.' 'W hy do you like anim als ?' He didn't ans wer im m ediately but s eem ed to be los t in thought. 'B ec aus e you know where you are wi' anim als . T hey don't m es s you around. T hey like you for what you are. Not like people. A nd anim als don't as k a lot of bloody s tupid ques tions either.' 'A nd what are you going to do when you leave s c hool?' 'I'm going hom e. W hat are you gonna do?' 'Do you m is s your las t s c hool?' 'Naw, it were c rap. I was always in trouble. T hey pic ked on m e.' 'W ho did?' 'A ll of them - teac hers , kids , c aretaker, lollipop wom an, dinner ladies . T hey s ent m e to a s hrink, bit like you, in a blac k s uit and c reaky s hoes , who as ked a lot of bloody s tupid ques tions . W hy this and why that? A nd would I like to talk about it?' He s tared at m e with an im pudent look on his fac e. 'He c ouldn't deal with m e neither. Grown ups alius pretend. T hey s ay they're your friends , only trying to help you, they're all nic e and kind and then they... well... Haven't you got owt better to do?' 'No, not really,' I replied. 'A nd what about here, T erry?' 'W hat about here?' 'Do you think they pic k on you here?' He thought for a m om ent, twis ting his m outh to one s ide and c oc king his head. 'Not as m uc h,' he c onc eded, 'not as m uc h.' T hen as if brought out of a reverie he s at up and s c rewed up his writing into a tight little ball. 'T hat's c rap.' A t lunc htim e Canon S hepherd arrived ac c om panied by a whey-fac ed individual with a long nos e, flared nos trils and a drooping S talin-like m ous tac he. T he vic ar was a s m all, c heerful little m an, with tous led hair and flabby c heeks . 'It is very good of you to join our deliberations , Mr P hinn,' s aid the c leric , offering m e a fles hy hand. 'I expec t Mis s P ilkington has explained our dilem m a.' 'Not m uc h of a dilem m a as far as I'm c onc erned,' s aid his c om panion. 'T he lad's a bad 'un and no m is take.' T his m an c learly did not m inc e his words . 'He s hould be put where he won't harm him s elf and others .' 'T hat's jus t what we're here to dis c us s , Mr Gardner,' s aid the vic ar s harply. 'I am well aware of your views .' 'A nd I'm well aware of yours , vic ar,' retorted his c om panion, s troking his m ous tac he. 'I would like to have the benefit of Mr P hinn's expertis e and his advic e before we m ake any dec is ions as to the future of the c hild.' T he vic ar looked expec tantly in m y direc tion and nodded. His c om panion regarded m e s erious ly and c ontinued to s troke his m ous tac he. 'W ell, Canon, he is without doubt a very diffic ult boy -' I began. 'W e know that,' interpos ed the parent-governor aggres s ively. 'It does n't take a genius to s us s that out. W e don't need ex perts from County Hall to tell us the blindingly bloody obvious . T ell us s om ething we don't know.' Mis s P ilkington rais ed a hand. 'P leas e let Mr P hinn finis h, Mr Gardner. He s aw T erry in c las s this m orning and I would like to hear his opinion.' 'He's a dis turbed c hild, attention-s eeking with a very low s elf-es teem and tends to reac t to people with this bravado. He's deeply s us pic ious of adults , probably bec aus e he's been let down s o m any tim es -' 'Look,' s aid Mr Gardner, 'I do have a bus ines s to run. W e c an s it here all afternoon lis tening to this ps yc hobabble, about how he c am e from a terrible bac kground, how he's had an awful c hildhood and that it's not his fault but s oc iety's , etc etera etc etera. It's that s ort of liberal hogwas h that lets football hooligans -'

'Mr Gardner! ' s aid the c anon in a hard and em phatic voic e. 'May I rem ind you that this is a c hurc h s c hool. Our vis ion, our ethos , the very bedroc k of our philos ophy are the words of J es us Chris t, who talked about c om pas s ion, love, unders tanding and generos ity of heart. I don't hear m uc h of that c om ing from your lips this afternoon. Do you think J es us would rejec t this c hild, turn his bac k on him ? I think not.' 'T hat's all very well, vic ar,' s neered Mr Gardner, his m outh tight, his fac e white with dis pleas ure, 'but you don't have a c hild in the s c hool. My J ill has to put up with this little dem on and have her learning interrupted. I'm not bothered about the boy. I'm bothered about m y daughter and her educ ation, and I'll tell you this , m y telephone has been hot with c alls from parents who think as I do.' His voic e s uddenly s oftened. 'Now look, Canon, we on the Governing B ody have a res pons ibility for the educ ation of all the c hildren in this s c hool. If we dec ide to let this boy rem ain and dis rupt -' 'I don't think Mr P hinn had quite finis hed, Mr Gardener,' interrupted the vic ar c oldly. 'T here are two c lear alternatives ,' I c ontinued quic kly. 'One is for the boy to go to a s pec ial s c hool for c hildren with em otional and behavioural needs , like the one in Crom pton. It is an exc ellent s c hool and s taffed with teac hers who have a partic ular s pec ialis m in dealing with young people of this kind -' 'Now we are talking,' m uttered the parent-governor. 'A lternatively,' I c ontinued, 'you c ould s ee if things get better over the next few weeks . I believe his fos ter parents would like him , if at all pos s ible, to rem ain in the s c hool. W ith s upport, perhaps s om e extra s taffing and an environm ent where there is s om e s tability and c ons is tenc y of treatm ent - as he will undoubtedly get here - he m ay very well s ettle down and im prove.' T he body language of the parent-governor indic ated that he was about to launc h into another outburs t s o Mis s P ilkington s tepped in s m artly. 'I think we have to keep trying for the tim e being,' s he s aid c alm ly. 'S ee how things go.' 'Y ou m ean let him s tay?' dem anded Mr Gardner, his m ous tac he bris tling with dis pleas ure. 'I m ean let him s tay,' s aid Mis s P ilkington. 'I am not yet prepared to be defeated.' 'Mr P hinn?' T he c anon turned his fac e in m y direc tion. 'It is , of c ours e, a very c ourageous dec is ion,' I replied quietly, 'but if you want a pers onal opinion, I think it is the right one.' One of the m os t im portant parts of a s c hool ins pec tor's job is to follow up a s ituation after a s c hool vis it; indeed, s om etim es the vis it is only the beginning of a s uc c es s ion of ac tions often involving m any people. T he day following m y m eeting at W illingforth S c hool, I had telephoned K ath K invara. K ath was one of the c ounty educ ational ps yc hologis ts who had worked with m e on a num ber of c ours es and c onferenc es . S he always s eem ed to wear the s am e outfit: tight-fitting brown s weater, c rum pled brown tweed s kirt, s olid brown s hoes . Her thic k brown hair was tied bac k untidily, and there was not a trac e of m ake-up or jewellery, s ave for the s ingle rope of pearls whic h I always felt to be totally c ontrary to the res t of the ens em ble. S he was a level-headed, down-to-earth and very am us ing wom an whom I had frequently c ons ulted about c hildren with learning diffic ulties , s pec ial educ ational needs and behavioural problem s . I had s poken to her about the s ituation at W illingforth P rim ary S c hool and s he had gone there to m eet Mis s P ilkington and the c hild him s elf and had s ugges ted s om e prac tic al ideas and s trategies in an effort to help. Now, a c ouple of weeks later, I had been to a m eeting in the A rc hitec ts ' Departm ent about a propos ed new s c hool library and was walking along the top c orridor of County Hall. I was always pleas ed to get out of that dark and intim idating building and bac k to the ins pec tors ' c ram ped but friendly offic e. T he interior of County Hall was like a m us eum - a s ilent, c ool and s hadowy plac e with long ec hoey c orridors , high tall windows , ornate c eilings , m arble figures on plinths and heavy oil paintings . Form er m ayors , high s heriffs , lord lieutenants , leaders of the c ounc il and dignitaries , all of them m en and m any of them bearded and robed, s tared out of their gilt fram es in s olem n dis approval. 'Hi, Gervas e.' I turned and there was K ath - in her fam iliar garb. 'Oh hello, K ath, how are you?' 'Oh, underpaid and overworked. I hear c ongratulations are in order.' 'T hat's right.' 'Y ou kept that c los e to your c hes t, didn't you? Y ou never m entioned it when we were talking on the phone about W illingforth S c hool.' 'Didn't want to m ix bus ines s with pleas ure.' 'Indeed, and I'm really pleas ed for you although I c an't im agine what s om eone s o beautiful, elegant and talented as Chris tine would s ee in you.' 'W hat about looks , c harm , c haris m a, intelligenc e and a vibrant pers onality for s tarters ?' I as ked. 'Or the fat bank ac c ount. T hat's the reas on why attrac tive young wom en go for the m ore m ature m an. Oh, and another bit of news I've jus t heard is that Harold Y eats is finis hing.' 'T hat's right.' 'I thought he had a good few years to go.' 'He's fifty-nine this year,' I told her, 'and c an get his pens ion s o he's dec ided to retire, and who c an blam e him ?' 'W ill you be putting in for the job, then?' s he as ked. 'I don't know, K ath, I really don't know.' 'Y ou ought to have a go. Y ou c an't los e anything by applying and you m ight regret it in later years , partic ularly if they appoint s om eone nobody likes . T he Chief P s yc hologis t who was m y bos s before I c am e to Y orks hire was a m egalom aniac . He was hell to work for.' 'W ell, I don't know. It's a long way off yet. Harold does n't finis h until next J uly. I'll jus t have to s ee.' My tone of voic e m us t have s ignalled that I wanted an end to this line of dis c us s ion. 'A nyhow, I'm really pleas ed to have bum ped into you,' s he s aid. 'Have you got a m inute?' 'Y es , of c ours e,' I replied. I opened a door bes ide us and looked in. 'S hall we pop into this em pty c om m ittee room ?' W e entered a large im pos ing-looking ante-c ham ber whic h was dom inated by a huge rec tangular m ahogany table around whic h were twelve or s o s traight-bac ked c hairs . On the walls were the fam iliar oil paintings of s olem n old m en with grave expres s ions . 'It's about T erry Mos s up, the boy at W illingforth,' explained K ath. 'Oh yes , I'd be interes ted to know what's happening. How's he getting on?' 'W ell, there's not been any m as s ive trans form ation in his behaviour but I think the s ituation is im proving s lowly. T hes e things , I'm afraid, take tim e. It would be wonderful if we c ould work the s ort of overnight m irac les we s ee on the A m eric an film s where the little rednec ks are m irac ulous ly c hanged into angels by the c aring pries t. I'm afraid real life is not like that. A nyhow, T erry is s till a handful. He's a very unpredic table and m ixed-up little boy. His file would fill a whole s helf and be the s tuff of ps yc hologic al res earc h. P oor kid, he's been knoc ked from pillar to pos t by s uc c es s ive "unc les " who c om e and live with his m um for a while and then he never s ees again. His elder brothers are into drugs and c rim e and he's been c aught on num erous oc c as ions wandering the s treets at night. T hen there's his vandalis ing and truanting. Y ou nam e it.' 'S o how is Mis s P ilkington c oping?' 'W ell, s he's finding it really hard but s he's digging in her heels and trying her bes t. S he was s o grateful that you were able to find a c las s room as s is tant - and this is the good news . He's a young m an who T erry has quite taken to. He's a very keen footballer and by all ac c ounts s eem s to have got the lad interes ted. T erry is a natural ball-player, I hear. Mis s B ates , the other teac her, is bac k at work. For how long, I don't know, bec aus e s he looked as if s he was teetering on the brink of a nervous breakdown when I las t s aw her. Did you know that, after the dec is ion to keep T erry on, one of the governors , a very aggres s ive, loud m an -' 'I've m et him . J os eph S talin.' 'W ell, he led a m inor exodus . Five c hildren left and it looks like m ore will follow.' 'W ell, they won't find it eas y to get as good a teac her as Mis s P ilkington els ewhere and that's for s ure,' I s aid, rec alling the exc ellent les s ons I had obs erved in the pas t. 'B ut the Chairm an of Governors is not the pus h-over s om e of the other governors thought he would be,' c ontinued K ath, fingering the pearls . 'He looks s uc h a jolly, inoffens ive little m an but he's got this s ort of m is s ionary zeal and is as tenac ious as Mis s P ilkington. I have been really im pres s ed by Canon S hepherd. In fac t, I m us t tell you what happened when I was las t there. Canon S hepherd goes up to T erry who was bus y feeding the ham s ter. "Nowthen, T erry," he s ays , "how are things going?" "B ugger off, granddad! " T erry replied. W ell, I had to turn away to hide m y laughter. A nyway, I'm doing what I c an. T he thing is , Gervas e, that this boy is really very bright. I gave him a non-verbal reas oning tes t and he s c ored high m arks . On the m ental m athem atic s tes t he als o did very well. He's got a s harp little m ind and a wide, if s om etim es rather c olourful, c om m and of the language. Of c ours e, his reading and written work are below average but I think the long s c hool abs enc es ac c ount for that. Let's jus t hope all this pers everanc e and patienc e pays off.' 'Y es ,' I s aid doubtfully, 'let's hope.' W hen I got bac k to the offic e I dec ided to give Mis s P ilkington a c all. S he was pleas ed to hear from m e but s ounded weary and low. A fter I put the phone down I thought it would not be m uc h longer before T erry was in s om e s pec ial unit. I was jus t about to leave the offic e one c old m orning three or four weeks later when the telephone rang. 'Hello, Gervas e P hinn here.' 'Oh, hello, Mr P hinn, it's Mis s P ilkinton here, from W illingforth S c hool.' I s wallowed thic kly and waited for the inevitable news . 'Could you c om e out when you have a free m om ent or are pas s ing?' 'Y es , of c ours e.' I took a breath. 'It's not urgent but we've been doing s om e poetry work and the c hildren have produc ed s om e delightful riddles . I know that you often c ollec t poem s for the c ounty anthology and I am s ure s om e of the ones they have written would be ideal. A nyway, if you are in the area, you know you are always welc om e.' 'How's T erry?' I as ked. 'W ell, why don't you c om e out and s ee for yours elf?' s he s aid. S he c ertainly s ounded a whole lot like her old s elf; in fac t s he s ounded as if s he was pretty pleas ed with life. I im m ediately telephoned the s c hool I was intending to vis it that m orning and put bac k m y appointm ent. I was due to arrange the s hortlis ting of c andidates for the vac ant deputy headteac her pos t but that c ould wait. I jus t had to s ee what the s ituation was like at W illingforth. Later that m orning I entered the large bright c las s room to find a pos itively beam ing Mis s P ilkington. S he nodded her head in the direc tion of a boy in the c orner s c ratc hing away on a large piec e of paper with a fair-haired, athletic -looking young m an s itting alongs ide him . It was T erry and the c las s room as s is tant. 'Children,' the headteac her s aid, 'c ould we all s ay "Good m orning" to Mr P hinn?' T here was an enthus ias tic c horus of'Good m orning'. 'A nd m ay I introduc e you to Mr W hite, our new teac her-as s is tant.' I learned later that Roland W hite was having a gap year before univers ity and teac her-training. T he young m an s m iled in m y direc tion. 'Good m orning,' I s aid. 'Now, c hildren,' c ontinued Mis s P ilkington, 'Mr P hinn has c alled in to look at the lovely poetry work you have been doing.' T erry looked up from his work and nodded. 'A ll right?' he s houted. 'Y es , fine. A re you?' I c alled bac k. 'Mus tn't grum ble,' he replied. W hat was it that K ath had s aid, I thought to m ys elf, about the fanc iful A m eric an m ovies where the little rednec ks were c hanged into m odel m em bers of s oc iety by a c aring pries t? 'Mus tn't grum ble,' T erry had s aid. T his was one of Y orks hire's m os t prized phras es . W hen as ked how any Y orks hirem an or wom an is feeling, the s peaker - whether it is in S elby or S heffield, Donc as ter or Darfield, Halifax or Hudders field, Rotherham or Roys ton - is likely to reply with this tim e-honoured expres s ion, 'Oh, m us tn't grum ble' before launc hing into a diatribe about the ills of the world. Connie us ed the phras e to m axim um effec t, as did J ulie. T hings were c learly rubbing off on the boy. I dec ided to s pend a little tim e with the res t of the c hildren prior to approac hing T erry. 'Riddles are s ort of word puzzles ,' explained a fres h-fac ed boy of about eleven, pointing to his work. 'S om e are of one line, others are long and s om e are over nine hundred years old. W e've been writing riddles of our own.' He then read out his very inventive vers e: I'm a real s quare! Dry as dus t, Grey as a s tone, P aper thin and perforated. I m ay be s quare and full of holes , B ut in hot water m y flavour burs ts , For I am the quenc her of thirs ts . W hat am I? 'A teabag! ' I exc laim ed. 'T hat's brilliant.' T he next pupil was bus y em bellis hing her poem with intric ate penc il drawings as I approac hed. I read: I'm an ic y blos s om , A tiny piec e of frozen paper, A c old white petal, A winter pattern. 'It's a s nowflake,' s he told m e with a broad if rather nervous s m ile. 'E xc ellent,' I s aid. E ventually I found m y way to T erry's des k. 'A nd have you done a riddle, T erry?' I as ked. 'Y ep.' I was waiting for him to tell m e it was 'c rap' but he looked in his folder and produc ed a s heet of c rum pled paper c overed in the s am e s pidery writing I had s een on m y las t vis it. I took it from him , s traightened it out and read: T hey walk all over m e, T hey beat m e, T hey wipe their feet on m e, T hey nail m e to the floor, T hey wear m e out, T hey leave m e to fade in the s unlight. I was los t for words . I looked at the s harp-fac ed boy with wavy red hair and a tight little m outh whic h c urved downwards . W as this about him , I thought, the neglec ted, m is treated c hild, whom adults had treated as a doorm at, who had been walked over all his young life? 'Have you gues s ed what it is then?' he as ked. He had that s am e defiant look in his eye. 'A c arpet,' I s aid quietly. 'Good, is n't it?' 'It's very good.' Mis s P ilkington appeared at m y s ide. 'W ould you like to tell Mr P hinn where you went las t week, T erry?' 'I had a trial gam e for the Fettles ham J uniors , s ec ond team . Football, you know. Don't s 'pos e I'll get in, but it were worth 'aving a go.' 'Go on with you, T erry,' s aid the young m an, Roland W hite, who had been obs erving m e like a s c hool ins pec tor him s elf. 'Y ou'll be playing for one of the big c lubs one day.' T he fac e brightened up but he tried to appear c as ual. 'Y eah, I bet.' 'A nd we've been to a farm s inc e your las t vis it,' s aid Mis s P ilkington. 'T ell Mr P hinn what you s aw, T erry.' 'P igs , we s aw s om e pigs , big pink buggers they were - s orry, m is s ,' he c lapped his hand over his m outh. 'I keep forgetting. Right big pigs they were with piglets whic h hung on to her - you know whats .' He grinned im pis hly. 'A nd we s aw s om e s heep.' 'A nd c an you gues s , Mr P hinn, who the farm er pic ked to help him get the s heep into the fold?' 'I have no idea,' I s aid c ons piratorially. 'It was T erry.' 'W as it?' I s aid, s ounding very im pres s ed. 'A ye, it were,' s aid the boy. 'Mr Clough, the farm er, s aid he'd not had s uc h a good little helper ever before. Do you know, Mr P hinn, T erry c an be a really naughty boy at tim es but las t week on our trip to the farm he was really good.' 'Mr Clough has a s heepdog c alled Meg,' s aid the boy. 'S he were great. S he wouldn't leave m e alone, m is s , would s he? K ept jum ping up and following m e.' 'A nim als really know when you like them ,' I obs erved. Mis s P ilkington s m iled. I knew what s he was thinking. 'S o do c hildren.' 'A nd there were hens and I helped look for the eggs ,' s aid T erry. 'A nd I never broke one.' 'T erry had never been to a farm before,' explained Mis s P ilkington. 'He had never s een s uc h anim als c los e up, had you?' 'No, m is s , and I want to work on a farm when I leave s c hool.' I thought bac k to m y firs t vis it and rem em bered what he had ans wered when I had as ked him what he wanted to do when he left s c hool. T here had c ertainly been s om e rem arkable c hanges s inc e then. 'A nd what els e did you s ee?' I as ked. 'I s aw s om e bulls and s om e 'os s es and s om e goats and s om e duc ks and s om e fuc kers .' It was as if s om eone had thrown a buc ket of ic y water over Mis s P ilkington, the c las s room as s is tant and m e. W e all three s hot upright, s pluttering audibly. 'No! No! ' s napped the headteac her. 'Y ou definitely did not s ee any of thos e, T erry Mos s up! ' 'I did, m is s .' 'No, no, you did not! Y ou c ertainly did not s ee any of thos e.' T he boy thought for a m om ent before replying. 'W ell, Mr Clough c alled 'em "eff-ers " but I knew what he really m eant.'

5 One Friday afternoon in early Oc tober, I arrived at I, P rinc e Regent Row in Fettles ham . T he building was a tall im pos ing Georgian white-fronted villa enveloped with V irginia c reeper, the leaves of whic h were m agnific ently c rim s on. T here was an im pres s ive porc h with s tone pillars and a heavy oak, ornately-c arved door. I was here to be ins pec ted by Mrs Cleaver-Canning - c orrec tion: the Honourable Mrs Cleaver-Canning. E arlier that week, after a long and tiring day, I had jus t been finis hing off in the offic e when J ulie had popped her head around the door. 'T here's s om eone who s ounds like Mrs S avage's s is ter on m y phone wanting to s peak to you. Loud and pus hy and with a plum -in-the-gob ac c ent. S hall I tell her you've gone?' 'No, I'd better take it, J ulie,' I had s ighed, hoping it would not be another dis gruntled parent or c om plaining governor. I had had s everal heated dis c us s ions already that day. 'W ould you put it through, pleas e?' A few m om ents later a very upper-c rus t voic e had c om e down the line. 'Is that Mr Gervas e P hinn?' 'S peaking,' I had replied c harily. 'My nam e is Cleaver-Canning, the Honourable Mrs Cleaver-Canning. I hear that you do talks .' 'T alks ?' I repeated. 'Y es , after-dinner talks . Mrs Daphne P atters on, who is in the s am e T owns wom en's Guild as I, attended s om e s ort of c harity event rec ently and s aid s he very m uc h enjoyed what you had to s ay.' I had relaxed and leaned bac k in the c hair. 'Oh, that's very kind of her.' 'A nd I'm m inded to as k you to s peak at m y golf c lub, a s ort of after-dinner addres s at our Chris tm as Ladies ' Night func tion. It is s hort notic e, I realis e, but I have been let down. T he Chris tm as evening is one of our m os t im portant and I booked - er, well, perhaps I s houldn't m ention who - over a year ago and now he's gorn and let m e down. Got a luc rative televis ion offer, I believe, and film ing s tarts next m onth. I end m y term of offic e as lady c aptain of the T otterdale and Clearwell Golf Club this Dec em ber and this dinner is very im portant, m y s wan s ong, you know.' A fter a s light paus e, the Hon Mrs Cleaver-Canning had c ontinued, 'W e would, of c ours e, be prepared to m ake a donation to the c harity you s upport. S o, how do you feel? Can you help m e out of a hole?' 'W ell, yes , I think in princ iple I c ould, Mrs Cleaver-Canning, but it really depends on the date. I already have a num ber of evening engagem ents in Dec em ber whic h is always a partic ularly bus y tim e for m e but if I am free, I s hould be delighted to join you.' 'Dec em ber 16th is the date for the dinner. Do s ay you are free! ' I had flic ked forward through m y diary. 'Y es , it s o happens that I am . I would be delighted to s peak at your dinner.' 'P rior to m aking a definite booking, Mr P hinn,' the s peaker had then pronounc ed loftily, 'I think we s hould m eet, s o I c an learn s om ething about you. I am s ure you will apprec iate that I am relying on the rec om m endation of a c olleague. Daphne P atters on is rarely wrong about people but one does have to be s ure. I am c ertain you will unders tand that I do need to m eet you before m aking a firm c om m itm ent. Have a little c onv ers az ione, you know.' I had had to s m ile. T he wom an wanted to vet m e. 'I'm not a polis hed after-dinner s peaker, by any m eans , Mrs Cleaver-Canning,' I had explained. 'I don't tell jokes or anything like that. I jus t talk about c hildren and s c hools and s om e of the am us ing things that have happened to m e.' 'Good grac ious , Mr P hinn, we don't want a c om edian! T his is the T otterdale and Clearwell Golf Club, not the Crom pton W orking Men's Club. It is a very pres tigious golf c lub. Daphne P atters on s aid you were very entertaining without being vulgar and tas teles s and you didn't go on for too long. T hat is exac tly what I want. S om eone who is wholes om e, am us ing, yes , but not long winded. W e c an't be doing with ram bling and ris que s peakers . T he audienc e will be entirely ladies , s om e of whom are getting on in years , and it really would not be appropriate for the T otterdale and Clearwell to have anything ribald. T he s peaker las t year was s om e s ort of televis ion pers onality, though I have to adm it I had never heard of the m an - from a s oap program m e, I believe - and I m os t c ertainly do not wis h to renew m y ac quaintanc e with him , either. He had far too m uc h to drink and bec am e quite offens ive. He ups et a num ber of our ladies and he didn't know when to s it down.' 'I c an as s ure you, Mrs Cleaver-Canning, that I do not tell rude jokes or -' 'No, no, I'm s ure you don't. Now, have you your diary handy? Can you c om e and s ee m e this week?' W e had arranged that I s hould go to s ee her at four o'c loc k that Friday afternoon whic h s uited m e well, s inc e I c ould c all in on m y way bac k to the offic e from a s c hool vis it. A nd s o it was that I pres ented m ys elf at I, P rinc e Regent Row jus t as the c loc k on Fettles ham T own Hall s truc k four. I was welc om ed ins ide by an elderly, s lightly s tooped m an with thin wis ps of s andy-grey hair and a great handlebar m ous tac he. He looked like an ageing B iggies . I as s um ed this to be the old fam ily retainer but it s oon bec am e apparent that he was Mr Cleaver-Canning. 'A h,' he s aid in a deep, throaty voic e, 'Mr P hinn, I pres um e? Com e in, c om e in. T he better half is ups tairs but s he will be down direc tly. W e'll go into the library, if you'd like to walk this way.' I followed the s tooping figure into a room lined with bookc as es s et between tall s as h windows , overlooking a long walled garden. T he hands om e c edar trees of J ubilee P ark c ould be s een over the wall at the end. E verything exuded c om fortable opulenc e, from the heavy velvet c urtains to the thic k c rim s on c arpet, from the delic ately-m oulded c eiling to the deep arm c hairs and m agazine-laden tables . 'Do take a s eat. I'll jus t give Margot a c all.' T he m an s huffled off and onc e bac k in the hall he s houted up the s tairs . 'Margot! Margot! Y our vis itor is here.' B ac k c am e a s hort and im patient reply, 'I'm c om ing! I'm c om ing! ' T here was the s ound of heavy foots teps on the s tairs followed by a loud whis pering from the hall. 'I do wis h you wouldn't s hout like that. It's not Fettles ham Market.' T here was a note of s harp c om m and in the voic e. 'Y es , I know, Margot,' he replied, 'but it's a bloody long trek up thos e s tairs and...' T here was another s eries of whis pers before B iggies reappeared, followed by an am ple-bos om ed, im pec c ably-groom ed wom an with pale purple hair and grey eyes s o large they m ade her appear perm anently s urpris ed. Her m outh was a s hining s c arlet bow of lips tic k. T he Honourable Mrs Cleaver-Canning c ertainly c om m anded pres enc e. S he exam ined m e c ritic ally like a doc tor m ight a patient, gave a s hort, quic k s m ile and proffered a fles hy hand. T he air had s uddenly bec om e thic k with a heady perfum e. 'Mr P hinn, do take a s eat. I think you have m et m y hus band.' S he waved her hand in the direc tion of B iggies who s tood by the door like a hovering butler. 'W inc o, pleas e don't s tand there like a totem pole. P ut the kettle on. I am s ure Mr P hinn would enjoy a c up of tea.' 'T hank you, yes ,' I replied, thinking a s tiff whis ky at that m om ent would have s uited m e better. 'Righto,' s aid Mr Cleaver-Canning genially, s ham bling out of the room . I s at down in the neares t arm c hair, prac tic ally dis appearing into its depths . My large c om panion lowered hers elf regally into the m iddle of the s ofa oppos ite and s pread hers elf extravagantly. 'My hus band was in the RA F. W ing Com m ander. Called Norm an but everyone c alls him W inc o. Now, Mr P hinn, Daphne P atters on tells m e you are a s c hool ins pec tor. How fas c inating.' T he tone of voic e s ugges ted that s he did not s ound partic ularly fas c inated. 'Y es , I've been an ins pec tor now for a c ouple of years . B efore that I was a teac her and --' 'Have you ever vis ited Ham ilton College?' W inc o had s uddenly m aterialis ed at the door. Mrs Cleaver-Canning tightened her lips and gave him a look whic h would c urdle m ilk. 'W inc o, I am s ure Mr P hinn is not able to dis c us s , nor is he partic ularly interes ted in dis c us s ing, the various s c hools he has vis ited. In any c as e, he's probably never heard of Ham ilton.' S he turned to m e. 'It's a m inor public s c hool in S urrey.' S he turned her attention bac k to her hus band, 'Have you m ade the tea?' 'Only jus t put the kettle on,' replied W inc o. 'A nyhow, need to know what s ort. Do you like E arl Grey, Darjeeling, Ceylon, A s s am , c am om ile, Mr P hinn, or a good old Y orks hire brew?' 'W inc o,' s aid his wife in exas perated tones , 'jus t m ake the tea.' 'Righto,' he s aid good-hum ouredly and s huffled out of the room . 'A s I was s aying, Mr P hinn, it s ounds a very interes ting profes s ion, a s c hool ins pec tor. T o be frank, I find c hildren rather exhaus ting and very dem anding. W e have nephews and niec es but we don't have any c hildren of our own.' I c ould tell that by the im m ac ulate s tate of the hous e. 'Y es , it is a very interes ting profes s ion. I get to m eet a great m any people, of all ages and from every bac kground. I vis it s c hools both in towns and the lovely Dales villages , and, on s om e oc c as ions --' 'B is c uits ?' W inc o had appeared again at the door. 'W hat?' s napped his wife. 'A re we having bis c uits ?' Mrs Cleaver-Canning s ighed heavily and heaved her s ubs tantial bos om before purs ing her c upid bow lips and replying tartly, 'Y es , W inc o, I think we will have bis c uits .' 'W hat kind?' 'J us t put a s elec tion on a plate,' s he told him wearily. 'Righto,' he s aid am iably, dis appearing out of the room onc e m ore. 'Y ou were s aying, Mr P hinn?' c ontinued m y hos tes s . 'J us t that I get to m eet a great m any people and s ee the beautiful Y orks hire c ountrys ide.' 'A nd do you do a lot of talking, Mr P hinn?' c ontinued Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'My c olleagues would s ay rather too m uc h, I fear,' I replied. My feeble attem pt at a wittic is m fell on s tony ground. 'Oh really?' S he gave the s hort, quic k little s m ile. W inc o appeared with a tray on whic h were three delic ate c hina c ups and s auc ers , a large s ilver teapot, jug and s ugar bowl. T here was als o an enorm ous plate of as s orted bis c uits . He plac ed the tray on a table. 'Coas ters , pleas e, W inc o,' ordered his wife, pointing to an elegant ros ewood s ideboard. 'T op left-hand drawer.' Having arranged various m ats on the s m all m ahogany table, W inc o proc eeded to pour the tea. 'W hy are there three c ups ?' as ked his wife. 'A ren't I joining you?' W inc o lifted a s andy eyebrow. 'No, you are not joining us ,' s he replied in low, m eas ured tones . 'I am dis c us s ing the Chris tm as Ladies ' Night dinner with Mr P hinn. It is golf c lub bus ines s . Y ou have your errands to do.' 'Do I?' 'Y es , you know you do. T igger has got to go to the vet. E vening s urgery is at five.' 'Righto.' 'A nd do m ake s ure it's the young wom an vet who s ees him . I have little c onfidenc e in that m an.' 'Righto,' he s aid again, leaving the room . Mrs Cleaver-Canning leaned forward and whis pered c onfidentially, 'T ell m e, Mr P hinn, do you drink?' 'E r, it's a little early for m e, thank you,' I s aid. 'No, no,' s he s aid with a fluttering laugh. 'I was wondering if, in general term s , you enjoy a drink or are you a teetotaller?' 'Y es , I like a drink, but in m oderation.' 'Y ou don't overdo it?' 'No, I don't overdo it.' 'Good, it's jus t that that vulgar little s oap m an had far too m uc h drink for his own good and he bec am e quite ins ulting. W e have had a num ber of s peakers in the pas t who have im bibed rather a lot.' 'Oh dear,' I s aid, feigning c onc ern. 'W ell, I c an as s ure you, Mrs Cleaver-Canning, there will be nothing of that s ort.' T he interrogation c ontinued for a further thirty m inutes until m y hos tes s appeared s atis fied on m y s uitability to s peak at the Chris tm as Ladies ' Night dinner. 'W ell, that s ounds m os t s atis fac tory,' s he s aid. 'I have enjoyed our little c hat and would like to c onfirm m y invitation for you to s peak. I s hould point out that it will be a form al affair s o you will need to wear a dinner jac ket.' B efore I c ould reply, W inc o reappeared and as ked: 'W here's the c at bas ket, Margot?' It was tim e for m e to leave and I m ade good m y es c ape at the s am e tim e as W inc o departed, c arrying a s m all wic ker bas ket from whic h em anated very c ros s -s ounding m ews . Late Friday afternoons were the only tim es that all the ins pec tors were likely to be together in the offic e. On s uc h oc c as ions we c ould wind down, have a m ug of tea, exc hange inc idents , and gos s ip and talk about the trials and tribulations of the week. W e were never in a great rus h and thos e who lived outs ide Fettles ham generally waited until the heavy Friday evening traffic had eas ed before s etting off hom e. T he exc eption on the team was Gerry who, having c leared her des k, was us ually keen to get away. I got bac k to the offic e from m y grilling by Mrs Cleaver-Canning jus t after five o'c loc k. S idney was in a partic ularly provoc ative fram e of m ind. He was s tanding watc hing Gerry as s he attem pted to pus h a s et of thic k folders into her briefc as e. 'Do you have to be s o rem arkably ac c om plis hed at everything, Gerry?' S idney as ked her. 'W hat do you m ean?' s he replied, laughing. 'W ell ac c ording to "T he B lac k Death" over in the CE O's offic e, the pes tilential Mrs S avage, in her lates t pois on-pen m em orandum , you are the only one of us who had all the final reports , res pons es and guidelines c om pleted by the end of las t term and you are the only one of us who has c orrec tly filled in her wretc hed engagem ent s heets .' 'I jus t like to keep on top of things , S idney,' s he told him , giving him one of her dis arm ing Iris h s m iles . 'It's jus t the way I am . Y ou know what I'm like.' A c tually, I thought to m ys elf, I don't know what you are like. None of us did. In fac t, Dr Geraldine Mullarkey was s om ething of a m ys tery. S he had everything: brains , looks , pers onality, a s ens e of hum our and, during her s hort tim e as the c ounty ins pec tor for s c ienc e and tec hnology, s he had m ade a very big im pres s ion. S c hools were always happy to s ee her, the CE O had rec eived m any c om plim entary letters and c om m endations from headteac hers and governors , Harold dec lared her reports to be m odels of exc ellenc e, and her training c ours es for teac hers were always vas tly overs ubs c ribed. S he was an extrem ely pretty, s lender young wom an with s hort raven blac k hair, a pale, delic ately-boned fac e and great blue eyes with long las hes , and m en gazed at her with open adm iration. S he had been a m em ber of the ins pec tors ' team now for over a term but we s till knew very little about her, des pite S idney's pers is tent probings . Gerry was a private pers on and kept her life outs ide work s tric tly to hers elf. 'W ere you one of thos e ins ufferably indus trious little girls at s c hool,' S idney now as ked, 'who was top in everything, bes t at s ports , brilliant at m us ic , ans wered all the ques tions , got all the prizes on S peec h Day? A rather pris s y, prec oc ious little m is s y with long plaits and a butter-wouldn't-m elt-in-m y-m outh expres s ion?' 'No, not really, S idney,' replied Gerry, c ram m ing yet m ore papers into her bag. 'Quite the oppos ite, in fac t. I think I was the bane of m y teac hers ' lives .' 'Geraldine, how m any m ore files are you intending to S tuff into your bag?' as ked S idney. 'Oh, do leave the poor wom an alone,' s aid David. 'I jus t wis h to im pres s upon our fair c olleen from County Galway that there is m ore to life than ins pec ting s c hools and s he m us t apprec iate that by taking hom e all this extra work and being am azingly indus trious , we m ere, weak, inadequate m ortals appear s om ewhat les s than effic ient by c om paris on.' He ges tured to his des k where an as s orted heap of dog-eared files and thic k folders balanc ed dangerous ly on the edge. Geraldine's des k, by c ontras t, was em pty s ave for a telephone, a large pris tine s quare of blotting paper, two s m all neatly-s tac ked piles of reports , an em pty in-tray and a full out-tray. 'I c an't hang around tonight, either,' I told no one in partic ular as I em ptied the c ontents of m y briefc as e on m y des k. 'I have a m eeting.' 'On a Friday night! ' exc laim ed S idney. 'Y es , on a Friday night,' I replied. 'A nother workaholic .' 'I know why our S idney is feeling inadequate,' s aid David. 'He's afraid.' 'A fraid? A fraid, pray, of what?' enquired his c olleague. 'Not of what but of whom ,' s aid David. 'Y ou are worried about Harold's replac em ent. Y ou are in a s tate of panic bec aus e you think we m ay get a m artinet of a S enior Ins pec tor who will watc h your every m ove and get wis e to your little gam es and rus es .' 'Little gam es and rus es ? W hatever do you m ean?' 'How, if s om ething has nothing to do with your prec ious art and des ign, you s lither and s lip from the m os t diffic ult s ituations like an eel in a barrel of oil, wriggling your way out of anything whic h involves extra work.' S idney s norted. 'Utter rubbis h! A nyway, Geraldine, I think you are overdoing it. Y ou s hould s low down a bit. W ork is , after all, not the be-all and end-all. In fac t, I think you are looking dec idedly pale. W hat you need is a good m an.' 'Give m e s trength,' s ighed David. 'Now he's into m arriage c ouns elling.' 'A n attrac tive young wom an like you,' c ontinued S idney unperturbed, 'c ould have your pic k of dozens of panting m ales . I take it there is no one on the s c ene at the m om ent? P erhaps s om eone we don't know about, tuc ked away in a rem ote c ottage in the Dales ?' 'Not at the m om ent,' replied Gerry, now c learly getting irritated by S idney's probing. T he s m ile had dis appeared from her lips . 'I m us t be off.' 'No s ec ret lover?' 'S idney,' s he s aid s harply, 'it really is none of your bus ines s , you know.' 'W ell s aid,' agreed David. 'Now, leave the poor wom an alone.' S idney m erely c hanged tac k, and direc ted his ques tions to m e. 'B y the way, Gervas e, are you going to apply for Harold's job?' I dec ided to throw the ques tion bac k at him . 'W hy don't you apply, S idney?' 'No, not m e. T he m ore I view thos e who are at the top of the tree, the m ore c onvinc ed I bec om e that I am m uc h better off on the gras s below, gently grazing, rather than being blown hither and thither by the c ons tant winds of educ ational c hange. T he very bes t reas on for s taying where I am is to look at thos e at the top. B ut you are s om ewhat younger, Gervas e, s o what about it?' 'I haven't dec ided yet,' I replied in s uc h a dis m is s ive m anner that it s hould have given him the s ignal to c hange the s ubjec t again. T ypic al of S idney, he c arried on regardles s . 'Y ou want to get on and apply,' he advis ed. 'Y ou will need the extra funds - a newly-m arried m an with an expens ive wife, hous e and m ortgage and then, of c ours e, when the c hildren s tart arriving...' 'I agree, you s hould apply, Gervas e,' s aid Gerry as s he put on her c oat. 'Y ou'd m ake a brilliant S enior Ins pec tor.' 'I c ertainly would not go that far! ' exc laim ed S idney. 'T he Iris h will exaggerate s o. A s David's m uc h m ore pros aic and tires om e old W els h grandm other would no doubt rem ark from her inglenook: "He would m ake a tidy job of it." Gervas e is a reas onably pers onable young m an, good c om pany, has a pleas ant enough m anner. I'm s ure he would be c om petent enough in the pos t of S I and be ac c eptable to we hard-working ins pec tors .' 'W ould you m ind not talking about m e as if I weren't here?' I rem arked. 'Y es , I think we c ould all live with him as S enior Ins pec tor,' c ontinued S idney, oblivious to m y c om m ent. 'He is a good s ort at heart, if a little s tuffy at tim es .' 'S tuffy! ' I exc laim ed. 'S tuffy! ' 'I wouldn't s ay exac tly "s tuffy",' David s aid, joining in on this c om pletely unnec es s ary c onvers ation. 'J us t a trifle on the s erious s ide perhaps , a little intens e, prone to be s elf-c ritic al -' 'I'm going,' I told them , ris ing to leave, 'before m y whole c harac ter is laid out like a body on a hos pital's operating table.' 'W ell, I'm off, too,' Gerry s aid. S he s natc hed up her bulging briefc as e and headed for the door. 'Have a good weekend everyone.' 'S he always rus hes off, does n't s he?' s aid S idney when Gerry had gone. 'Never s tays for a c hat or a drink after work. V ery m ys terious about her private life. W hatever s he s ays , I rec kon it's highly likely s he has a s ec ret m an tuc ked away s om ewhere. A nd s peaking of m ys tery, Gervas e, pray tell us what's this c landes tine m eeting of yours this evening? It's not another wom an, is it? Y ou're not playing fas t and loos e with the affec tions of the A phrodite of W innery Nook, the delec table Mis s B entley? In fac t, the m ore I think of it, it is highly s us pec t that both you and Gerry are rus hing to leave the offic e early.'

'It is not early, S idney, it's jus t not late. A nd if you m us t know, I'm m eeting S is ter B rendan.' 'A s ec ret evening as s ignation with a nun, no les s . T his is getting intriguing.' 'S inc e Gervas e has told us where he is going,' rem arked David, 'it is hardly a s ec ret as s ignation, is it? B ut that apart, what on earth are you doing with S is ter B rendan on a Friday evening?' 'Y ou are both as bad as eac h other. I am s peaking at a CA FOD c harity event at S t B artholom ew's S c hool.' 'CA FOD?' c ried S idney. 'CA FOD! T hat s ounds like a prophylac tic for c ons tipation. W hat the devil is CA FOD?' 'Catholic A id for Overs eas Developm ent,' I told him . 'S is ter B rendan has as ked m e to s peak to the Y orks hire B ranc h to rais e m oney for the s treet c hildren of S outh A m eric a.' 'It's very noble of you to give up a Friday evening, I m us t s ay,' c om m ented David. 'W ell, it's in a very good c aus e,' I replied. 'If it goes all right,' s aid David, 'I m ight jus t as k you to s peak at m y golf c lub dinner next year.' I c ons idered telling him about m y invitation from Mrs Cleaver-Canning but thought better of it. S idney was in his c us tom ary pos e, leaning bac k in his c hair, s taring upwards . 'It's rather a c ontradic tion of term s , is n't it - Y orks hire and c harity? Y orks hire people, I have found, are the leas t c haritable of people. T hey rarely part with their m oney. T he typic al Y orks hirem an, in m y experienc e, has s hort arm s and long poc kets and lives by the Y orks hire m otto of B ras s o, Inc lutc ho, Intac to. T here was the fam ous Y orks hire farm er -' 'Oh, do we have to lis ten to this rubbis h?' s ighed David, s haking his head wearily. 'No, lis ten,' c ontinued S idney, s itting up. 'T his illus trates m y point exac tly. T here was the fam ous Y orks hire farm er who went to plac e an "In Mem oriam " m es s age in the loc al paper following his wife's death. He wrote out exac tly what he wanted to appear: "In m em ory of m y dearly beloved wife, E thel B raithwaite, who departed this earthly life blah blah".' He was inform ed that he had an extra four words inc luded with the pric e, s hould he c are to us e them . W is hing to get full value for m oney, the pars im onious farm er agreed to the ins ertion of an additional four words . T he "In Mem oriam " m es s age duly appeared the following week: "In m em ory of m y dearly beloved wife, E thel B raithwaite, who departed this life on 1s t Marc h 1955 at the age of 81 years . Muc h m is s ed by her loving hus band. A ls o trac tor for s ale."' It was definitely tim e I left, I dec ided, and began to pac k up m y briefc as e - S idney in this s ort of m ood c ould keep going all evening. It had been jus t after the beginning of term that S is ter B rendan had telephoned. 'It's that little nun from S t B artholom ew's on the phone again,' J ulie had inform ed m e. 'A fter s om ething, I'll bet. S he c ould get blood out a s tone, that wom an, and s he has you wrapped around her little finger. Y ou s eem to go all to piec es when it c om es to nuns .' 'T hank you, J ulie,' I had s aid, taking the rec eiver from her hand. 'Good m orning, S is ter B rendan, and how are you?' S is ter B rendan, headteac her of S t B artholom ew's Rom an Catholic Infant S c hool in the dour indus trial town of Crom pton, was a s light, finely-boned wom an with s m all, dark eyes and a s harp beak of a nos e. W hen I had firs t m et her s he had rem inded m e of a hungry blac kbird out for the early worm . Her s m all infant s c hool was s ituated near a was teland of tall, blac kened c him neys , des erted fac tory prem is es , boarded-up s hops , dilapidated warehous es and row upon row of red-bric k, terrac ed hous ing. T he s c hool, adjac ent to the s m all c hurc h of S t B artholom ew of W hitby, was a c om plete c ontras t. Onc e ac ros s the thres hold, one entered another world, one whic h, like the little nun hers elf, was bright, c heerful and welc om ing. 'Mr P hinn,' S is ter B rendan's s oft voic e had c om e down the line, 'I have a little favour to as k.' It had taken a very s hort tim e for her to pers uade m e to s peak at the c harity fund-rais ing event, and that evening had now arrived. A t the entranc e to S t B artholom ew's S c hool I was greeted by the loc al paris h pries t, Mons ignor Leonard, his c as s oc k as s habby and ill-fitting as us ual. I had c om e ac ros s him on a num ber of oc c as ions on m y travels around the c ounty's s c hools . He was a kindly and quietly-s poken m an in his late fifties who relis hed being with the c hildren, s eem ing to be endles s ly interes ted in their educ ation. On previous vis its , I had als o m et Mis s Fenoughty, the m ons ignor's hous ekeeper and the c hurc h organis t. S he was a s m all, round wom an of indeterm inate age, and was hard of hearing. On one oc c as ion when I had heard her play the piano during s c hool as s em bly, s he had ham m ered her way up and down the keys as if there'd been no tom orrow. 'Good evening,' s aid Mons ignor Leonard now as I approac hed the s c hool entranc e, 'It is s o kind of you to c om e and s peak to our little gathering.' 'Good evening, Mr Flynn,' s aid Mis s Fenoughty, who was s tanding bes ide him . 'Not a m as s ive turnout s o far but we live in hope. It was a full hall when the las t s peaker s poke here. Mind you, Cons tanc e Rigby is a bit of a c elebrity in flower arranging c irc les . A nyway, it's kind of you to c om e and talk to our little gathering, is n't it, Mons ignor?' T he pries t s ighed and direc ted his eyes heavenwards . 'Y es , it is indeed, Mis s Fenoughty.' T hen he s aid in an undertone, 'Y ou've taken the words right out of m y m outh.' 'Good evening,' I s aid, s haking the pries t's hand and s m iling at the fus s y little figure bes ide him . 'A nd it was very good of you, Mr Flynn, not to c harge a fee,' c ontinued Mis s Fenoughty. 'S o m any of thes e s peakers c harge for their s ervic es thes e days , don't they, Mons ignor?' 'It is extrem ely kind of you to give up your evening, Mr P hinn,' repeated the pries t. 'I s aid to Mons ignor Leonard,' Mis s Fenoughty rattled on regardles s , 'I s aid it's very kind of Mr Flynn to give up an evening and not to c harge a fee. W e c an now us e our funds to get a really good s peaker next year, c an't we, Mons ignor?' T he pries t looked rather em barras s ed, s hrugged and s m iled, then s aid quic kly, obvious ly dec iding it was tim e Mis s Fenoughty's flow was s tem m ed, 'Now, Mr P hinn, no doubt S is ter B rendan explained about this very worthwhile c aus e. T he s treet c hildren of S outh A m eric a are the m os t dis advantaged in the world. A bandoned by their parents to fend for them s elves , they live in gutters , s ewers , in c ardboard boxes , they are the prey to predatory adults , the vic tim s of c orrupt polic e. T hey are the world's forgotten c hildren. "W e m ay be exc us ed for not c aring m uc h about other people's c hildren, for there are m any who c are very little about their own." Dr J ohns on, I think, s aid that.' 'Dr J ohns on! ' Mis s Fenoughty s napped. 'Don't talk to m e about Dr J ohns on, Mons ignor. I've been waiting for m y elas tic s toc kings for four weeks now.' 'S hall we go in?' m outhed the pries t. 'S is ter B rendan will be wondering where we are.' He bent and barked in his hous ekeeper's ear. 'A nd, by the way, Mis s Fenoughty, it's Mr P hinn, not Flynn.' 'W hat is ?' s he s napped. T he pries t's voic e went up an oc tave. 'I s aid, it's Mr P hinn! ' 'Mons ignor Leonard,' replied his hous ekeeper quietly but dis tinc tly, 'there is really no need to s hout. I c an hear perfec tly well. It is jus t that you m um ble s o.' T he evening went well and the rec eptive audienc e s eem ed to enjoy m y talk. A fterwards , Mons ignor Leonard and I joined the headteac her in her room . S is ter B rendan c ertainly s eem ed well pleas ed, m os t es pec ially with the res pec table am ount of m oney that was rais ed. 'T hank you s o m uc h,' s he s aid. 'W e do s o apprec iate it when people --' 'Mons ignor Leonard! Mons ignor Leonard! ' Mis s Fenoughty barged through the door, bec koning m adly to the pries t like an angry m other would to a c hild s he wants to c om e in for tea. 'I need to s peak to you on a m atter of s om e urgenc y.' 'W e were jus t thanking Mr P hinn -' s tarted the pries t. 'E xc us e m e, Mr Flynn,' Mis s Fenoughty s aid, 'but I m us t drag the Mons ignor away. It's im perative that I s peak to him .' T he poor pries t was m ore or les s m anhandled to the door by the s m all figure, and he threw us a baleful look as he was bundled from the room . S is ter B rendan rais ed her eyes to heaven. 'God grant m e the c ourage to c hange what I c an, the patienc e to endure what I c annot, and the forbearanc e to put up with Mis s Fenoughty.' On the way hom e, I s topped off at the late-night c hem is t in Fettles ham High S treet. I had a s lightly tic kly feeling in the bac k of m y throat and thought I m ight be c om ing down with a c old. I s m iled as I entered the s hop, rem em bering the las t tim e I had c alled there. It had been after I had vis ited a s c hool and had left with s om e 'little lodgers ', as Chris tine had euphem is tic ally des c ribed them . I had been extrem ely em barras s ed having to as k for a s ham poo to get rid of head lic e. T he s am e young wom an in the bright white nylon overall who had s old m e the head lic e m edic ation and nit c om b was s erving now. S he obvious ly rec ognis ed m e. 'Not m ore head lic e, is it?' s he as ked, s otto v oc e, as I approac hed the c ounter. 'No, thank goodnes s ,' I replied. 'J us t s om ething for a c old, pleas e. One of thos e lem on drinks and a bottle of as pirin s hould do it.' A s s he s elec ted the nec es s ary item s from the dis play in front of her, the pharm ac is t appeared from behind a glas s s c reen. 'Dr Mullarkey?' he enquired, looking pas t m e. I turned and there, s itting in a s m all alc ove, was Gerry. S he gave m e the s hoc ked, wide-eyed look of a s hoplifter c aught in the ac t. 'Y es , that's m e,' s he s aid, ris ing to take the pac ket from his hand. 'Hello, Gervas e.' 'Hello, Gerry,' I replied. 'Give him two of thes e, three tim es a day,' s aid the pharm ac is t. 'If the c ondition wors ens , I s ugges t you get in touc h with your doc tor, but it s ounds as if it's jus t a bit of flu and he'll be over it in a few days .' 'T hat will be P S 3.50, pleas e, m adam ,' s aid the s hop as s is tant. 'T hank you,' replied Gerry, fum bling around nervous ly in her purs e for the right am ount. B efore I c ould enquire after the health of the 'him ', s he pus hed the m oney into the as s is tant's hand, gave m e a quic kly vanis hing s m ile and s aid, 'Mus t be off. Have a lovely weekend.' P erhaps S idney was right, I thought to m ys elf. P erhaps s he does have a s ec ret lover tuc ked away s om ewhere deep in the Dales after all. It was c ertainly very m ys terious , very m ys terious indeed.

6 T he s c enery in the Y orks hire Dales , without doubt, inc ludes s om e of the m os t varied and s tunning in the B ritis h Is les . T he c ounty m ay not em brac e within its s prawling borders the vas t m agnific enc e of the S c ottis h Highlands or the towering grandeur of S nowdonia but there is a partic ular beauty in eac h of the divers e lands c apes . T here is a breathtaking beauty in the hay m eadows of W ens leydale and S waledale where butterc up and c lover blaze along the valley bottom s . T here is a s im ple pas toral beauty in the c los e-c ropped s heep pas tures of Ribbles dale, s m ooth and s oft as a billiard table, where roc k ros e and m ountain pans y flouris h. T his is a land of c ontras ts : of dark, s c attered woodland c reeping up the s teep s lopes , s oaring fells ides leading to vas t em pty m oors , great roc ky wind-s c oured c rags , bubbling bec ks leading into c urling rivers , vas t s wathes of c rim s on heather and golden brac ken on the turn. W ith eac h s eas on this vas t, beautiful lands c ape c hanges dram atic ally but it is in winter that the m os t s pec tac ular trans form ation takes plac e. It is then that the m ultic oloured c anvas of pale green fields and dark fells , twis ting roads and m iles of s ilvered walls , c luttered farm s teads and s tone c ottages , s quat c hurc hes and anc ient inns are enveloped in one endles s white c overing, and a s trange, c olourles s world s troked by s ilenc e em erges . It was a bright, c old m orning, a week before the s c hools broke up for the Chris tm as holidays , and I was s c heduled to vis it two s m all s c hools . T here were flurries of s now in the air as I drove out along Fettles ham High S treet but by the tim e I had reac hed the open road great flakes s tarted to fall thic k and fas t. S oon the s now began to s ettle in bitter earnes t and in no tim e it was draping the branc hes of the s keletal trees , lac ing the hedgerows , c overing walls and roofs . T he rays of a watery winter s un pierc ed the high feathery c louds m aking the s now glow a golden pink. T he s c ene was m agic al. I c rawled up the narrow road to S t Helen's , a tiny Churc h of E ngland s c hool nes tling in a fold of the dale, wondering if it would be pas s able later when I was due to go on to m y next appointm ent. T he s m all, s tone s c hool s erved the village of K irby Crighton and neighbouring K irby Rus ton, as well as a few c hildren from the US air bas e at Ribbon B ank. T he las t tim e I had vis ited the s c hool it had been on a m ild autum n afternoon. Gone now were the brilliant c olours , the golden lus tre of the trees , the thic k c arpet of yellow and orange leaves and the rus ty brac ken s lopes . Now it was a patc hwork of white, c ris s -c ros s ed with the dark walls . T he interior of the s c hool was warm and welc om ing. A tall Chris tm as tree s tood in one c orner of the c las s room , fes tooned with c oloured lights and dec orations ; a large rus tic c rib was s et in the oppos ite c orner. E very wall was c overed with c hildren's Chris tm as paintings in reds and greens and golds . T here were s nowm en and reindeer, plum puddings and fir trees , Father Chris tm as es and c arol s ingers and s om e delightful s ilhouettes s howing the journey of Mary and J os eph to B ethlehem . Mrs S m ith, the headteac her, was m ore than s urpris ed to s ee m e. 'My goodnes s , Mr P hinn,' s he s aid as I entered the c las s room , brus hing flakes of s now off m y c oat, 'I really didn't think you would venture out here in this weather. I hope you get bac k to Fettles ham . Y ou don't want to be s tranded out here.' 'It was not too bad when I s tarted,' I explained, 'but if it does n't eas e off, Mrs S m ith, I'll go bac k and fix another tim e to vis it.' T he s now, however, did s oon s top s o I dec ided to s tay and c arry out the ins pec tion as planned. It was nearly lunc htim e by the tim e I had heard the c hildren read and looked though their books , exam ined the teac hers ' developm ent planning and les s on notes , s tudied the tes t s c ores and the m ark books and obs erved two les s ons . 'W ell, things are fine, Mrs S m ith,' I told the headteac her. 'No m ajor worries that I c an s ee. I'll get the full written report off to you before the end of the week.' 'T hat's reas s uring, Mr P hinn,' s aid the headteac her. 'Now, I wonder, if you have the tim e, perhaps you would like to s ee our Nativity. W e're perform ing it for parents later this afternoon in the village hall and are having one las t run through to iron out any c reas es , s o to s peak. A n objec tive view would be very m uc h apprec iated,' 'I s hould love to s tay,' I s aid. W hile the c hildren put on their c os tum es , I helped pus h the des ks and c hairs to the bac k of the c las s room , to leave a large s pac e in the front. T hen, having ens c onc ed m ys elf on the teac her's c hair at the far s ide of the room , I s at bac k to s ee yet another perform anc e of s urely the m os t fam ous and poignant s tories of all tim e. T his would be the fourth Nativity play I had s een in a fortnight and eac h had been quite different from the las t. I wondered if this one was going to be as m em orable as the others . T he highlight of the evening in the firs t Nativity play of this Chris tm as s eas on had been the A nnunc iation. Mary, a pretty little thing of about s ix or s even, had been bus y bus tling about the s tage, wiping and dus ting, when the A ngel of the Lord had appeared s tage right. T he heavenly s pirit had been a tall, s elfc ons c ious boy with a plain, pale fac e and s tic king-out ears . He had been dres s ed in a flowing white robe, large paper wings and s ported a c rooked tins el halo. Having wiped his nos e on his s leeve, he had glanc ed around s us pic ious ly and had s idled up to Mary, as a dodgy m arket trader m ight to s ee if you were interes ted in buying s om ething from 'under the c ounter'. 'W ho are you?' Mary had as ked s harply, putting down her dus ter and plac ing her hands on her hips . T his had not been the quietly-s poken, gentle-natured Mary I had been us ed to. 'I'm the A ngel Gabriel,' the boy had replied with a dead-pan expres s ion and in a flat voic e. 'W ell, what do you want?' 'A re you Mary?' 'Y es .' 'I c om e with tidings of great joy.' 'W hat?' 'I've got s om e good news .' 'W hat is it?' 'Y ou're having a baby.' 'I'm not.' 'Y ou are.' 'W ho s ays ?' 'God, and He s ent m e to tell you.' 'W ell, I don't know nothing about this .' 'A nd it will be a boy and He will bec om e great and be c alled - er, um -' T he boy s talled for a m om ent. 'A h c alled S on of the Mos t High, the K ing of K ings . He will rule for ever and His reign will have no end.' 'W hat if it's a girl?' 'It won't be.' 'Y ou don't know, it m ight be.' 'It won't, 'c os God knows about thes e things .' 'Oh.' 'A nd you m us t c all it J es us .' 'I don't like the nam e J es us . Can I c all him s om ething els e?' 'No.' 'W hat about Gavin?' 'No,' the angel had s napped. 'Y ou have to c all it J es us . Otherwis e you don't get it.' 'A ll right then,' Mary had agreed. 'A nd look after it.' 'I don't know what I'm going to tell J os eph,' the little girl had s aid, putting on a worried expres s ion and pic king up her dus ter. 'T ell him it's God's .' 'OK ,' Mary had s aid, s m iling for the firs t tim e. W hen the A ngel of the Lord had departed J os eph had entered. He had been a c heeky-fac ed little boy dres s ed in a brown woollen dres s ing gown, thic k blue s oc ks and a m ulti-c oloured towel over his head, held in plac e by the inevitable elas tic belt with a s nake c las p. 'Hello, Mary,' he had s aid c heerfully. 'Oh hello, J os eph,' Mary had replied. 'Have you had a good day?' 'Y es , pretty good,' s he had told him , nodding theatric ally. 'Have you anything to tell m e?' T here had been a s light paus e before s he had replied. 'I am having a baby - oh, and it's not yours .' T he audienc e had laughed and c lapped at this , leaving the two s m all c hildren rather bewildered. T he highlight of the s ec ond Nativity play had been after the entranc e of the T hree K ings , S om eone had really gone to town on the c os tum es for the little boys who c am e in c lutc hing their gifts tightly. T hey were res plendent in gold and s ilver outfits , topped by large bejewelled c rowns that s hone brilliantly under the s tage lights . 'I am the K ing of the North,' s aid one little boy, kneeling before the m anger and laying down a brightly wrapped box. 'I bring you gold.' 'I am the K ing of the S outh,' s aid the s ec ond, kneeling before the m anger and laying down a large c oloured jar. 'I bring you m yrrh.' 'I am the K ing of the E as t,' s aid the third and s m alles t c hild, kneeling before the m anger and laying down a s ilver bowl. 'A nd Frank s ent this .' In the third play, J os eph, a rather fat boy dres s ed in a Mexic an ponc ho and a towel over his head, had not looked entirely happy when he too heard the news of the im m inent arrival of the baby. 'A re you s ure about this ?' he had as ked, an anxious expres s ion s uffus ing his little fac e. 'Cours e I'm s ure! ' Mary had replied. 'A n A ngel of the Lord told m e.' 'A re you s ure it was an angel?' 'Cours e, I'm s ure. Her nam e was Gabrielle.' A t this , I rem em bered that the s c hool was very big on equal opportunities . 'I think I'm going faint,' J os eph had s ighed. 'P ull yours elf together. It's great news . A ngel Gabrielle told m e not to be frightened.' 'I m us t adm it that I'm dead worried about this , Mary,' J os eph had c onfided, s haking his head s olem nly. 'It's c om e as a big s hoc k.' 'T here's nothing to worry about, s illy. E verything will be all right.' 'I s uppos e we'll have to get m arried then.' 'S 'pos e s o.' 'A re you s ure you're having a baby, Mary?' J os eph had pers is ted. 'Y es , I've told you, and we're going to c all him J es us and he will be the bes t baby in the whole wide world and we will love him very, very m uc h and take c are of him .' J os eph had nodded but had not looked too happy. 'A ll right then,' he had s ighed. How m any young c ouples , I had thought to m ys elf that afternoon as I watc hed the s m all c hildren ac t out their play, had been in that s ituation? Now at S t Helen's , the Chris tm as play was s taged rather differently. Mrs S m ith explained that s he had as ked the c hildren to write the different parts of the Chris tm as s tory in their own words and four of the bes t readers would read the narrative while the other c hildren m im ed the ac tions . Mary s at c entre s tage, s taring innoc ently into s pac e. T he firs t little reader began the s tory: 'Long, long ago there was a girl c alled Mary and s he lived in a little white hous e with a flat roof T hen the-angel appeared, a large boy wearing what looked like part of a s heet with a hole c ut in it for his head. He s tretc hed out his arm s dram atic ally as the reader c ontinued: 'One day, God s ent an angel and he told Mary s he was going to have a very s pec ial baby boy and His nam e would be J es us .' T he angel looked heavenwards . 'W hen the angel went bac k up to God, he s aid, "Mary did what I s aid, God. S he is c alling Him J es us , jus t as you told m e to tell her."' A beam ing little boy with red c heeks s trode into the s c ene and pos itioned him s elf behind Mary who was s till gazing s erenely into the m iddle dis tanc e. He put a parc el on the floor, then plac ed his hand on Mary's s houlder and s troked her fair hair. A s ec ond reader took over: 'In a town c alled Naz'reth, there was an old m an c alled J os eph and he was a c arpenter.' T he angel appeared again and s tretc hed out his arm s . 'God s ent an angel to him as well and told him to m arry Mary. S o J os eph as ked Mary to m arry him and s he s aid, "Y es pleas e," and s oon expec ted the baby. J os eph c am e hom e from work and he bought Mary s om e baby c lothes and a big box of c hoc olates .' J os eph bent down, pic ked up the parc el and dum ped it in Mary's lap. T hree c hildren s huffled on, followed by a fourth s m aller c hild c arrying a toy s heep. T he reader c ontinued: 'In the fields there were thes e s hepherds looking after their s heep.' T he angel appeared again and s tretc hed out his arm s . 'T he angel went to s ee them as well. W hen they s aw this great s hining light, they were really, really s c ared. "Ooooh-er, ooooh--er," they went. "W hat's that?" "Don't be frightened," s aid the angel. "I bring you tidings of great joy. T oday, a little baby boy will be born and you have to go and s ee Him ." "Righto," s aid the s hepherds .' T hree m ore c hildren appeared, s taring upwards and pointing, at whic h s tage a rather large girl pus hed the s ec ond reader out of the way, and s tarted to read: 'T he three kings were very ric h and they wore beautiful c lothes and had thes e c rowns and things . T hey looked at the s tars every night. One night one of the kings s aid, "Hey up, what's that up there, then?" "W hat?" s aid the other kings . "T hat up there in the s ky? I've not s een a s tar like that one." T he s tar s parkled and glittered in the blue s ky. "Y ou know what?" s aid another king. "It m eans there's a new baby king been born. S hall we go and s ee Him ?" "A ll right."' T he narrator c ontinued: 'T hey s houted to their wives : "W ives ! W ives ! Go and get s om e pres ents for the baby king. W e're off to B eth'lem to s ee Him ." "OK ," s aid the wives . T he three kings wandered around for a m om ent before m im ing knoc king at a door. A n aggres s ive-looking boy, with s hort s piky hair and a front tooth m is s ing, em erged, holding a plas tic s word. He s tuc k out his c hin and glowered. 'T he three kings c am e to this big palac e,' c ontinued the reader. 'It was c overed in expens ive jewels and had a golden roof and a s ilver door. T hey c ould hear this blas ting m us ic . T hey knoc ked on the door and a m an c alled Herod ans wered the door. "W hat do you want?" he s houted at them . "W e are looking for the new baby king." "W ell, he's not here! " s aid Herod. "A nd s hift thos e c am els . T hey c an't s tay there." He waved his s word about and s aid, "Clear off! " Herod was not a very nic e m an at all.' A t this point, the reader was replac ed by a s m all boy in trous ers too big for him . Mary and J os eph reappeared, pulling behind them a c ardboard donkey on s m all wheels ; it had a s traw tail and very large, polys tyrene ears . 'Mary and J os eph went to B eth'lem on a donkey,' piped the s m all reader, 'but there was no room in the inn s o they had to s tay in a barn round the bac k. Mary had her little baby and s he wrapped Him up nic e and warm and kis s ed Him and c alled Him J es us , jus t as God had told her to.' Children began to enter s lowly and gather around the baby. 'A nd from the hills c am e the s hepherds and from Herod's palac e c am e the three kings following a big s tar, and they all loved baby J es us . He was s m all and c uddly and He laughed. "W hy is He laughing?" as ked the s hepherds . "B ec aus e God's tic kling Him ," s aid Mary.' Las t of all c am e the little s hepherd boy and he laid the toy s heep before the m anger. 'A nd they s ang a lullaby for the baby J es us , and everyone was happy,' read the s m all boy. T he whole area was now filled with c hildren s inging 'A way in a Manger' in c lear, high voic es . W hen the c arol finis hed, I s at for a m om ent and looked around m e: the c hildren's fac es were glowing with pleas ure, Mrs S m ith was wiping away a tear, the lights of the fir tree winked and twinkled, and the walls were ablaze with the c olours of Chris tm as . T hrough the c las s room window a pale s un c as t a trans luc ent light and the whole world gleam ed s ilver. T his was indeed s om ething s piritual. My afternoon appointm ent was at Highc ops e County P rim ary S c hool, and was a follow-up vis it. I had ins pec ted the s c hool over a year earlier and written a s ubs tantial report with m any rec om m endations . I was there now to s ee if the is s ues I had identified had been addres s ed. On m y las t vis it I had noted that the c hildren's s peaking and lis tening was good, the reading s ound but the range of writing narrow and the s tandard barely s atis fac tory. T he firs t part of the afternoon I s pent exam ining the teac hers ' les s on plans and m ark books before looking at s am ples of the c hildren's written work. T hings had c ertainly got better and at afternoon playtim e Mrs P eters on, the headteac her, s m iled broadly when I told her there had been s ignific ant im provem ents in the s tandard of writing. 'W ell, Mr P hinn, that's the bes t Chris tm as pres ent I c ould have wis hed for. I am s o pleas ed. I hope that you find the s am e in the infants . Mrs Dunn has been working extrem ely hard s inc e your las t vis it to get things up to s c ratc h.' 'B y the way, where's Oliver today?' I as ked. On m y previous vis it, I had m et Oliver, a rem arkably artic ulate boy but s om ewhat ac c ident-prone, like the tim e when a wax c rayon bec am e lodged in his ear. 'Y ou notic e how quiet it's been then?' s aid the head-teac her. 'He's in the pantom im e at the Fettles ham Little T heatre this afternoon, the m atinee perform anc e, no doubt putting his c ons iderable ac ting talents to good us e.' T here was a hint of s arc as m in her voic e. 'A ny m ore ac c idents ?' I enquired. 'Need you as k! Only las t week he m anaged to get a s ens itive part of his anatom y c aught in his zip.' Mrs P eters on did not elaborate on the las t and m os t m em orable ac c ident. S he m erely s ighed and gave m e a knowing look. 'S o he's in a pantom im e this week?' 'He is . He's playing the part of the c at in the T hornthwaite T hes pians ' produc tion of Dic k W hittington and, knowing Oliver, he'll s teal the s how. His c os tum e is a m inefield of zips . I s aid to Mrs Dunn when I s aw it that he'd have been better off with buttons bec aus e if he's not c areful it'll be a neutered c at that turns bac k to London with Dic k W hittington.' For the rem ainder of the afternoon I joined the infant c las s in a large, well-equipped room with c olourful Chris tm as dis plays . Dom inating the room was an old-fas hioned teac her's des k in heavy pine with a hard-bac ked c hair tuc ked underneath. T he infants ' teac her, Mrs Dunn, was dres s ed in a dark blue c ardigan and dark brown s kirt. Her grey hair was s tretc hed bac k ac ros s her head and s m all dark eyes blinked nervous ly behind large fram es . I had not been greatly im pres s ed with this teac her when I had firs t obs erved her les s ons the year before and m y report had not been a good one. I found to m y s urpris e that things had im proved vas tly and was able to reas s ure a very worried Mrs Dunn before I pac ked m y papers away in m y briefc as e, ready to depart. 'T om 's been a great influenc e, of c ours e,' s he told m e, a brief s m ile playing on her thin lips . 'T om ?' 'My partner.' Mrs Dunn s m iled. 'I'd been on m y own for a good few years s inc e m y hus band died and then I m et T om on one of Mr Clam p's wonderful art c ours es . He's very c reative is T om , been a real ins piration.' 'W ell, I am very pleas ed,' I told her. 'I'll be s ending in a report later this week. W ell, goodbye, Mrs Dunn, and have a pleas ant and res tful Chris tm as .' A s I m ade for the door, however, the teac her c alled out to m e. 'Mr P hinn, we have about ten m inutes left before going-hom e tim e. It would be very nic e if you c ould read the c hildren a little of the Chris tm as s tory. T hey have been lis tening to a c ouple of pages eac h day this week and we are up to where Mary and J os eph arrive in B ethlehem .' 'W ell,' I m urm ured, not expec ting s uc h a reques t but hardly in a pos ition to refus e, 'I s uppos e I c ould. I m us t leave im m ediately at the end of s c hool, however, s inc e I have an engagem ent this evening and m us t get hom e to c hange.' 'Oh, that would be s plendid. I am s ure the c hildren will enjoy hearing another voic e.' Mrs Dunn c lapped her hands together s m artly. 'A ll onto the c arpet now, quic kly and quietly, pleas e. T hom as , will you not do that to B ethany's hair and, J ohn, leave the Chris tm as lights alone. Com e along, S im on, you're a real little s lowc oac h this afternoon.' W hen the c hildren were s ettled, had c ros s ed their legs and folded their arm s , and were s itting up s traight with their eyes to the front, Mrs Dunn introduc ed m e. 'T oday, as a s pec ial treat, Mr P hinn is going to read a little m ore of our s tory, a s tory we all know but love to hear again and again at Chris tm as tim e.' I opened the large c rim s on-c overed book, s m iled at the s ea of fac es before m e and read, 'Now, c hildren, it was a c old winter night when Mary and J os eph arrived in B ethlehem m any, m any years ago. J os eph walked ahead, holding up his lam p to light the way --' 'Didn't he have a torc h?' as ked a s m all girl with a Chris tm as ribbon in her hair. 'No, B riony, he did not have a torc h,' Mrs Dunn told her. 'T here were no torc hes in thos e days , were there, Mr P hinn?' 'No, no torc hes ,' I s aid. I knew from experienc e that telling s tories to c hildren of this age us ually ended up as m ore interruption than s tory. 'Mary was on an old donkey whic h walked oh s o s lowly. I think he knew he was c arrying a prec ious c argo --' 'Did it have bells on?' B riony as ked. 'No, it didn't have bells on.'

'T he donkey I rode at B lac kpool in the s um m er had bells on.' 'B riony! ' s aid Mrs Dunn s harply 'Com e over here and s it on m y knee, pleas e. I have as ked you before not to s hout out. It s poils the s tory for everyone els e.' A s B riony s c ram bled over the s m all bodies whic h s urrounded her, Mrs Dunn told her, 'Mary's donkey did not have bells on bec aus e it was n't a s eas ide donkey, was it, Mr P hinn?' 'No,' I s aid wearily, and returned to the book. 'Now Mary, who was riding on the old gentle donkey, knew s he was going to have her baby very s oon. S he was very exc ited but als o felt very tired for s he and J os eph had travelled far -' A s m all frec kled boy, who had been perfec tly s till and attentive until this m om ent, rais ed a hand, waved it in the air and c alled out, 'Mr P hinn! Mr P hinn! My A untie J ac kie felt tired when s he was having a baby. S he had s wollen ankles as well and a bad bac k. S he s aid it was the las t baby s he was going to have bec aus e -' 'T hom as , jus t lis ten, pleas e,' s aid Mrs Dunn. 'W e want to hear about baby J es us , not about your A untie J ac kie's baby, don't we, Mr P hinn?' 'W e do,' I s aid, and s truggled on. 'Mary and J os eph had been travelling for m any m iles and when they got to B ethlehem there was nowhere for them to s tay. T hey looked everywhere but there was no room , not even at the inn.' I glanc ed up to s ee B riony s itting quietly on Mrs Dunn's knee, her thum b s tuc k firm ly in her little m outh. 'T he innkeeper told them that there was a s table and they c ould s tay there. Mary had her baby and wrapped Him in s waddling c lothes and laid Him in a m anger. A nd high above, in the c lear s ky, a great s tar s hone above them . A nd all around them were the anim als , the ox and the as s --' 'W hat's an as s , Mr P hinn?' c alled out T hom as . 'It's a donkey,' I s aid. 'I wouldn't like to s leep with a donkey! ' c ried B riony, c om ing to life again on her vantage point on Mrs Dunn's knee. 'T he ones in B lac kpool are really s m elly.' 'T his was a very nic e donkey,' s aid Mrs Dunn, 'was n't it, Mr P hinn?' 'Y es , Mrs Dunn,' I replied, hearing with great relief the bell for the end of s c hool. 'It was an exc eptionally nic e donkey.' 'A nd did this one have bells on?' as ked B riony, as s he s c ram bled off Mrs Dunn's knee. 'No, I don't think s o,' s aid Mrs Dunn, s traightening her s kirt. 'W hat do you think, Mr P hinn?' I had had enough of Mrs Dunn and her c ons tant referring ques tions bac k to m e. I fleetingly thought of her new partner, T om , and dec ided he m us t be a veritable s aint. 'I think perhaps this donkey did wear bells , Mrs Dunn. Now, I really m us t be off s o I c an get bac k in daylight and before it s tarts to s now again,' and I left the dowdily-dres s ed teac her to s tem the flow of ques tions from B riony who was now dem anding to know what s ort of bells they were. T wo days after I had been c hec ked out by Mrs Cleaver-Canning, I had rec eived a letter from her, written on pale, em bos s ed and s c ented paper, c onfirm ing the invitation to s peak at the golf c lub dinner. S he had s ugges ted - and it was c lear from the tone of the s ugges tion that there was little point in arguing - that I s hould leave m y c ar at I, P rinc e Regent Row, and W inc o would drive us both down in the Merc edes . I was not at all s orry about this s inc e the m orning's s now, whic h had m elted a little during the day, had frozen and the roads were lethally ic y. I arrived at the elegant Georgian hous e, now denuded of its c rim s on c overing, at the appointed hour, parked m y c ar in the drive and s c runc hed ac ros s the gravel to the im pres s ive porc h with the s tone pillars . In the m iddle of the ornately-c arved front door hung a vas t wreath of holly, ivy and bright red ribbons . I was welc om ed again by W inc o. 'A h,' he s aid in his deep, throaty voic e, 'Mr P hinn. Com e in, c om e in. Nas ty weather, is n't it? T he better half is ups tairs and will be down in a m om ent. W e'll go into the drawing-room , if you'd like to c om e this way.' A bove the m arble fireplac e of the s um ptuous ly-furnis hed room I now entered hung a huge portrait in oils of a heavily be-m edalled and be-plum ed c avalry offic er who bore an unnerving res em blanc e to the lady of the hous e. 'T hat's Margot's two or three tim es great-grandfather General S ir George S abine A ugus tus Cleaver-B oiling in his uniform of Colonel of the 12th Royal Lanc ers . Im pres s ive looking c hap, is n't he?' 'Y es , indeed,' I s aid, s taring up at the s elf-im portant looking m an, m ounted on a rearing hors e. 'B rought the Cleaver hyphen with her when s he m arried m e. Didn't fanc y plain old Canning. A nyway, do s it down. I'll jus t give Margot a c all.' W inc o s huffled off and onc e in the hall s houted up the s tairs , 'Margot! Margot! Mr P hinn's here.' B ac k c am e the predic table s hort and im patient reply, 'I'm c om ing! I'm c om ing! ' T hen c am e the barked ins truc tion, 'S tart the c ar up, W inc o, will you, and get it warm .' 'A lready warm and waiting,' he c alled bac k. I wandered round the room in wonderm ent at the s um ptuous nes s of it all. On a table was a s elec tion of photographs in elaborate s ilver fram es . A plum p, c urly-headed girl with large eyes and pouting lips pos ed with a pony. V arious s evere-looking old m en and wom en, all in blac k, s tared out with dis approving expres s ions . In pride of plac e was a blac k and white pic ture of a hands om e, das hing young RA F offic er, with a head of wavy hair, a bris tling m ous tac he and an infec tious grin. It was the younger W inc o. He wore the ribbon of the Dis tinguis hed Flying Cros s . T here was the s ound of heavy foots teps on the s tairs , followed by a whis pering outs ide the door. 'I have as ked you, W inc o, on s o m any oc c as ions , not to s hout up the s tairs .' T hen the Honourable Mrs Cleaver-Canning entered the drawing-room looking - well, m agnific ent. S he was dres s ed in an am azing blac k, low-c ut dres s that s he filled out abundantly and whic h m ade her great bos om bulge. S he dripped with jewellery. 'A h, Mr P hinn, how very nic e to s ee you.' S he turned regally to W inc o who was hovering at the door. 'Haven't you c hanged yet?' 'I'm not going, am I?' 'W ell, not to the dinner, you're not, but you are driving us there and you c an't very well take us looking like the gardener. P ut on your blazer and flannels . B ut get us a s herry firs t, will you, W inc o? A m ontillado, Mr P hinn?' 'Y es , thank you.' 'Righto,' W inc o s aid jovially and am bled out of the room , returning a m om ent later with two glas s es of s herry on a s m all s ilver s alver. He then departed to get c hanged. 'It's a dreadful night,' rem arked Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'I jus t hope W inc o takes c are. Onc e he gets behind the wheel he thinks he's in a c oc kpit. T he roads are offly s lippery at this tim e of year. S o dangerous .' S he was s peaking of the m an who no doubt had fac ed a wing of Mes s ers c hm itts , guns blazing; who had s c ram bled into the c oc kpit of his Hurric ane or S pitfire four, five, s ix tim es a week, ris king life and lim b; who flew lonely dawn patrols , knowing that behind every bank of c louds enem y airc raft c ould be waiting. I s ipped m y s herry and s tared at the form idable wom an in blac k. E nem y airc raft m us t have been a bit of a breeze c om pared to her, I thought to m ys elf. S hortly, W inc o appeared, s m art in a dark blue blazer, flannels and RA F tie. 'Right,' s tated Mrs C-C, 'I think we are ready. S hall we go, Mr P hinn?' I did not believe what next c am e out of m y m outh. 'Righto,' I s aid, following her to the door. * T he T otterdale and Clearwell Golf Club was pac ked with about a hundred or s o obvious ly well-heeled wom en. I let m y gaze s weep ac ros s the figures and felt m y heart lurc h. W hy on earth had I agreed to this ? I as ked m ys elf. T he only m an there. However, I did not have tim e to dwell on this s inc e Mrs C-C introduc ed m e to the ladies of her c om m ittee. I m ade s m all-talk with Mrs Daphne P atters on, who had rec om m ended m e as a s peaker in the firs t plac e, until the Mas ter of Cerem onies 'banged up' and announc ed, 'Dinner is now s erved, if you would like to m ake your way to the dining-room .' A fter everyone had wended their way into the adjoining dining-room , I followed Mrs Cleaver-Canning as s he m ade her queenly progres s to the m iddle of the top table where s he s tood and fac ed the c hattering throng. S he did not need to s peak. S he s tood as though pos ing for a photograph, her c om m anding s tare flic king over the gues ts until their voic es fell away and s he had s ec ured their full attention. 'P leas e be s eated, ladies ,' s he s aid authoritatively, 'and gentlem an,' s he s im pered. A fter we had s ettled ours elves , s he c ontinued: 'W elc om e to our Chris tm as Ladies ' Night and m ay I wis h you all the c om plim ents of this very s pec ial s eas on. May I als o welc om e our princ ipal gues t and s peaker, Mr Gervas e P hinn, whom we s hall be hearing from later. Mr P hinn has waived a pers onal fee, whic h is very generous of him , and will be donating the c heque to a c harity c los e to his heart.' T here was a flutter of applaus e. 'I'm not exac tly aware what it is , but it has s om ething to do with c hild pros titution in S outh A m eric a.' 'T o prevent it rather than prom ote it,' I m uttered under m y breath. T he dinner was a very c onvivial affair. Mrs C-C, who s at on m y left, proved to be a s urpris ingly interes ting dinner c om panion after s he had im bibed a good few glas s es of wine. B etween m outhfuls of m elon and prawn c oc ktail, poac hed breas t of guinea-fowl and lem on m ous s e, all of whic h s he tuc ked into with relis h, s he told m e about the golf c lub, whic h had a dis tinc tive his tory, and gave an entertaining des c ription of the various ac tivities whic h had taken plac e during the previous year. S he was halfway through dem olis hing a m inc e pie when s he s aid, 'W e do like our s peaker to pres ent the balls .' 'T he balls ?' 'Y es , if you wouldn't m ind. Y ou c an do it before you s peak. It's not too arduous a tas k. W e always as k our gues t s peaker to pres ent the balls . It's a bit of a tradition in the c lub.' 'W hat balls would thes e be?' I enquired, im agining s om e s ort of es oteric c erem ony. 'T he golf balls there,' and s he pointed to a pile of boxes on a nearby s ide-table. 'W e award the c ups , s hields and m edals at the annual Chris tm as dinner to the winners of the year's c om petitions . I, as the lady c aptain, dis pens e thes e, but a pres entation box of golf balls is given to the oldes t m em ber, the newes t m em ber and the m em ber who has s pent m os t tim e this year on the greens . W e like to give them s om ething as a s m all token and to enc ourage them .' 'I s ee,' I replied. 'W ell, yes , c ertainly I'll m ake the pres entation.' 'A s I have s aid,' s he c ontinued after another hearty quaff of wine, 'we as k our gues t s peaker to do the honours . E veryone looks forward to the pres entation, although that vulgar little ac tor who s poke las t year and c ons um ed far too m uc h alc ohol for his own good, m ade a dis grac eful exhibition of him s elf and us ed the oc c as ion to m ake s om e very tas teles s and lav--, er, lavi--, ah, las c ivious obs ervations .' A s I watc hed the waiter re-c harge her wine glas s for the third or fourth tim e the words 'pot', 'kettle' and 'blac k' im m ediately c am e to m ind. 'I s hould be delighted to pres ent your balls ,' I s aid - and then wis hed I hadn't. Mrs Hills , the lady c aptain-elec t, s at on m y right and als o proved to be an interes ting and inform ative dinner c om panion. I learned that s he was a wom an of property and s he gave m e s om e exc ellent advic e on where to look for hous es and the bes t es tate agents to c ontac t. 'I have four c ottages ,' s he inform ed m e. 'A c ouple on the c oas t at Robin Hood's B ay and two m ore here in T otterdale, jus t north of Fangbec k B ridge in the village of Hawthwaite.' 'Y ou don't want to s ell one of them by any c hanc e, do you?' I as ked. 'No, no,' s he replied. 'T hey are a prec ious s ourc e of inc om e and, anyway, I c ouldn't part with them . T hey've been in the fam ily for years and years . Old aunts and unc les died and I s ort of ac c um ulated them . B ut one of the c ottages in Hawthwaite m ight be free to rent s oon. Have you thought of renting until you find s om ewhere you want and c an afford?' 'It m ay c om e to that, but we would really like to s tart m arried life in a hous e of our own. I expec t we will end up in a m odern s em i in Fettles ham ,' I s aid. 'It's s o beautiful here in T otterdale, is n't it? I think it has s om e of the m os t m agnific ent views in the entire c ounty. My fianc ee and I have looked for property here but it is s o expens ive.' 'It's in the National P ark, you s ee, s o there are s tric t regulations on the building of anything new, and c onvers ions have to follow very s tringent rules . It's a whole lot c heaper to the north of Crom pton or at Ribs dyke. Y ou ought to try there.' My thoughts , however, were s till on T otterdale. 'A c tually, I have an idea one of m y c olleagues lives s om ewhere in T otterdale and s he rents a c ottage.' 'Oh yes ?' 'Geraldine Mullarkey. I don't know whether you know her but --' 'W ell, well, well! ' Mrs Hills interrupted. 'W hat a c oinc idenc e! ' 'Y ou do know her?' 'Of c ours e I know her. S he's one of m y tenants in Hawthwaite. Delightful young wom an. B ut I didn't know s he was in your line of work. I thought s he m us t be a m edic al doc tor. S he's never in during the day and keeps hers elf very m uc h to hers elf when s he is at hom e. S o s he's a s c hool ins pec tor, is s he?' 'Y es , Geraldine and I ac tually s hare an offic e in Fettles ham .' 'I im agined s he worked in the hos pital there,' s aid m y c om panion. 'Oh no,' I replied. 'W ell, I c ouldn't hope for a better tenant. S he's s o pleas ant and friendly, s he's done wonders with the garden, and the ins ide is like a palac e. I've only c alled a c ouple of tim es bec aus e, as I s aid, s he is a very private pers on.' 'S he's like that at work. V ery friendly and c ons c ientious and her des k is the tidies t, without a doubt.' 'A nd her little boy is a poppet, is n't he?' I'm s ure m y m outh fell open. 'I'm s orry, what did you s ay?' 'Dr Mullarkey's little boy, J am ie. I s aid he was a poppet.' 'Little boy?' 'Y es , her s on, J am ie. Y ou s urely knew s he had a little boy?' 'Y es , yes , of c ours e,' I replied, trying to c onc eal the s hoc k of the revelation. 'I'd jus t for the m om ent forgotten his nam e. J am ie, that's right. How old is J am ie now, then?' 'He m us t be three, nearly four, bec aus e he s tarts in the nurs ery next year. He's s uc h a good little boy and as bright as a button. I know this bec aus e m y s is ter's girl is the c hild-m inder in the village, and s he loves him to bits . I don't know anything about Dr Mullarkey's hus band exc ept I think he works abroad.' My head was in a whirl, and I had to es c ape. 'I wonder if you would exc us e m e for a m om ent, Mrs Hills , I need to was h m y hands before m y s peec h.' I began to pus h bac k m y c hair. 'Getting a few butterflies , Mr P hinn?' s he teas ed. 'Y ou m us tn't worry about your audienc e. T he lady m em bers are always very apprec iative. T hey won't eat you. Mind you, there were m ore than a few eyebrows rais ed when the m an from the televis ion s oap s tood up las t year.' 'Don't m ention that odious m an,' s napped Mrs Cleaver-Canning, turning towards us . T hen s he added, 'Hurry bac k, Mr P hinn, it's alm os t tim e to pres ent your balls .' 'I'll not be long,' I s aid and das hed for the Gents . 'Ladies ! ' boom ed Mrs Cleaver-Canning behind m e. T here will be the Loyal T oas t in five m inutes , then a c om fort break and after that we will s tart the proc eedings .' In the Gents , I tried to c om e to term s with the bom bs hell whic h had jus t landed. Geraldine had a c hild! S he had never breathed a word, not a word to any of us . None of us in the offic e had had an inkling. A nd what about her hus band or partner? Did he work abroad or was s he divorc ed, s eparated, a widow? W hy was s he s o s ec retive? B ut now I thought about it, things did m ake m ore s ens e. S he was always evas ive about where s he lived. 'S om ewhere in the wilds ,' s he would s ay. S he had never m entioned anything about her life before s he had bec om e a s c hool ins pec tor, or her interes ts outs ide the offic e. T here were the tim es when s he had looked anxious ly at her watc h if a m eeting had c ontinued pas t s ix o'c loc k as if s he were late for s om e appointm ent - s he had obvious ly been keen to c ollec t her little boy from the c hild-m inder. S he never s tayed in the offic e for the us ual badinage at the end of the day and only attended s peec h days or evening func tions like s c hool plays and c onc erts when s he had to; I s uppos e s he found it hard to find a baby-s itter. W hen I had had that c hanc e m eeting with her in the c hem is t earlier in the term , the tablets had been for her little boy and not for s om e m ys terious lover as I had im agined. T hen there were her ques tions about the m os t appropriate books to buy for young c hildren. It all m ade s ens e now. B ut why had s he never s aid anything? W hy the m ys tery? W ell, I dec ided, if s he wanted to keep J am ie a s ec ret, s o be it. I wouldn't s pill the beans . I was too preoc c upied with the news of Gerry's s ec ret life to feel nervous about the res t of the evening. Following the pres entation of the balls and the trophies , I s tood and s poke for twenty m inutes and rec eived a very warm rec eption, probably bec aus e a great deal of alc ohol had been c ons um ed and m y audienc e were in Chris tm as good-hum our. Clutc hing a generous c heque for CA FOD, I c lam bered into a beautifully warm c ar to be c hauffeured bac k to I, P rinc e Regent Row by W inc o. T he lady c aptain of the T otterdale and Clearwell Golf Club s lum ped in the bac k, breathing like a hippopotam us whic h had rem ained too long underwater. S he was rather wors e for wear. 'I hope you haven't been winking, drinc o,' s he rem arked. 'It's h very ic y and we don't want an ac c ident and all end up in hops ital. S o take your tim e and go s hlowly.' 'Righto! ' replied the W ing Com m ander, pus hing his foot down on the ac c elerator pedal and s kidding out of the c ar park.

7 S tanding outs ide the Foxton S c hool offic e was a s m all boy of about s ix or s even. It was c lear that he was in trouble for he held his head down s o far his c hin res ted upon his c hes t. His hands were c las ped behind his bac k and he rem ained m otionles s in an attem pt to be as inc ons pic uous as pos s ible. However, as I approac hed, he glanc ed up furtively before thrus ting his head bac k down again. 'Hello,' I s aid. 'Hey up,' he m um bled, not looking up. 'Y ou look to m e as if you're in trouble.' 'I am ,' he replied, s till s taring at the floor. 'I've been s ent out to c ool off.' 'Cool off?' I repeated. 'I c an only go bac k when I've c ooled off,' he s aid. 'A nd have you c ooled off?' I as ked him . 'Not yet,' he m um bled. 'A nd what have you been up to?' I as ked. T he s m all boy relaxed a little, s niffed, wiped his nos e on the bac k of his hand and looked up at m e. 'W e're not s uppos ed to s peak to s trange-looking m en.' 'I'm not really a s tranger,' I told him , tapping the large s quare badge on m y lapel. 'I'm a s c hool ins pec tor.' T he c hild's bottom lip s tarted to trem ble. 'I don't m ean to do it,' he m oaned. 'I only learnt how to do it yes terday and now I c an't s top m is elf.' He s niffed nois ily. 'I'd s top if I c ould, but I c an't.' 'W hatever have you been doing?' I as ked, rather intrigued. 'I c an't tell you,' he replied m ournfully, his eyes now brim m ing with tears . 'T hat's all right,' I reas s ured him . 'Y ou don't need to tell m e if you don't want to, but I won't be angry with you if you do.' T he s m all boy replied by giving m e an enorm ous wink. 'S o are you going to tell m e what you were s ent out of the c las s room for?' I pers is ted. He winked again in the s am e exaggerated m anner. 'A ren't you going to tell m e?' He winked a third tim e, c ontorting his fac e as if he had a m outh full of vinegar. 'Go on, tell m e what you have been doing,' I urged. B y this tim e I was des perate to know. 'I've been doing that,' he replied pointing at a s quinting eye. 'I've been winking.' 'W inking?' I c huc kled. 'W ell, that does n't s ound too bad.' 'Mrs S m art does n't think it's funny,' he told m e in a s tage whis per. 'S he went bananas . S he s aid s he was s ic k and tired of m e winking at her all m orning, s o s he s ent m e out to c ool off.' 'I s ee.' 'I jus t c an't s top winking, you s ee. I've only jus t learnt how to do it and now I c an't s top m is elf. I jus t keeps on winking all the tim e.' 'Oh dear,' I s aid, trying to keep a s traight fac e. 'B it of a problem that, is n't it?' 'A re you B ec ky's granddad?' he as ked s uddenly. 'No,' I replied. 'I told you, I'm a s c hool ins pec tor.' 'Y ou c ould be B ec ky's granddad as well.' 'W ell, I'm afraid I'm not.' 'He's c om ing in this m orning is B ec ky's granddad. He's dead old but he us ed to be a referee. He's going to take us for football after playtim e. Mrs S m art s ays that if I haven't c ooled off before break, I c an't play.' He s niffed again, and the nos e-wipe with the bac k of his hand s eem ed an autom atic follow up. 'W ell, you had better s top winking then,' I told him . 'It's not that eas y,' s ighed the boy. 'I've tried but I jus t c an't. I wis h I'd never learnt how to do it.' I was about to m ake m y pres enc e known by pres s ing the buzzer at the rec eption des k when the s m all boy as ked, 'Can you wink then, m es ter?' 'I c an,' I replied. 'Can you?' 'I c an wink with both eyes . Like this .' I went down on m y haunc hes s o I was on a level with him and proc eeded to dem ons trate how it was pos s ible to perform a double wink. I was blinking and winking m adly and s c rewing up m y fac e like s om eone with tear gas in his eyes when the fros ted glas s on the window of the s c hool offic e s lid bac k s harply. 'Is there anyone there?' a dis em bodied voic e floated into the air above us . 'J us tin, who are you talking to?' 'Oh yes , yes ,' I s pluttered, s pringing upright like a puppet whic h had jus t had its s trings yanked. 'I'm the s c hool ins pec tor.' 'Indeed?' s he s aid, eyeing m e s us pic ious ly and looking unc onvinc ed as to the authentic ity of this s tatem ent. 'Mr P hinn,' I elaborated. 'From the E duc ation Offic e in Fettles ham . Here to s ee Mrs S m art.' 'Oh, yes , Mr P hinn,' s he replied. 'T he headteac her is expec ting you. S he's teac hing at the m om ent but as ked m e to s end you down to the c las s room when you arrived. I s ee you have m et our J us tin.' T he s ec retary popped her head through the hatc h the better to s ee the rec alc itrant pupil. 'Now then, J us tin Heath, have you c ooled off?' 'Not really, m is s . I was getting c ooler but then m es ter here was s howing m e how to wink with two eyes .' 'Mr P hinn! ' exc laim ed the s c hool s ec retary, and all I c ould do was look up at the c eiling, and whis tle gently. 'W ell, you had better return to your les s on anyway. It's nearly playtim e.' 'Y es , m is s .' 'P erhaps Mr P hinn will take you bac k down with him to Mrs S m art's c las s room .' 'Y es , m is s .' 'Y ou c an s how him the way.' 'Y es , m is s .' 'A nd no m ore winking.' 'No m is s , I'll try,' s aid the c hild. T he s ec retary gave m e a look as if to s ay, 'A nd don't you go enc ouraging him any m ore, either.' On the way down the c orridor, I felt a s tic ky little hand s lip into m ine. B y the tim e we were approac hing Mrs S m art's c las s room , the little boy was s winging his arm , and m ine, bac kwards and forwards . 'J us tin,' I s aid, 'I don't m ind you holding m y hand, but c ut out the s winging. OK ?' 'S orry, but I c an't s eem to s top m is elf from doing that, either.' Mrs S m art, a plum p wom an in a s hapeles s knitted s uit and s porting a rope of very large yellow beads , put on a theatric ally dis approving expres s ion when s he c aught s ight of m e entering the c las s room with the little boy in tow. 'Oh,' s he announc ed, 'I s ee our little winker has returned. Com e along in, Mr P hinn. J us tin, you go and s it down and let that be the end of your winking. A nd if I s ee you doing it again this m orning, you will fac e the wall.' 'Y es , m is s ,' replied the boy, s c urrying to his s eat. 'Do you know, Mr P hinn, we've had J us tin winking away all m orning and dis trac ting the entire c las s . I looked round at the c hildren at one point and found he had s et them all off. It was like teac hing a floc k of owls with c onjunc tivitis .' 'Oh dear,' I s aid, having to res train m ys elf from burs ting out laughing. 'W ell, anyway, it's very pleas ant to have you with us this m orning. S hall we all s ay a nic e "Good m orning" to Mr P hinn, c hildren?' 'Good m orning, Mr P hinn,' c hanted the c las s obediently. 'If you would like to take a s eat,' c ontinued Mrs S m art, 'we'll get on with the les s on. W e're doing the tens es , Mr P hinn - pas t, pres ent and future.' I found m ys elf a c hair in the c orner of the room . 'Now,' the teac her s aid, tapping a lis t on the blac kboard with a ruler, 'today I talk, pres ent tens e, tom orrow I s hall talk, future tens e, yes terday I talked, pas t tens e.' S he s tared in J us tin's direc tion, s eem ingly daring him to wink. 'T oday I look, tom orrow I s hall look, yes terday I looked. V ery often we add "ed" to the end of the verb in the pres ent tens e to c hange it into the pas t tens e but s om etim es this is not the c as e. For exam ple: today I s ing, tom orrow I s hall s ing, yes terday I s ang. T oday I run, tom orrow I s hall run, yes terday I ran. Now, I want you all to think of a really good verb whic h, when it c hanges into the pas t tens e, does not have an "ed" on the end. T hinking c aps on, pleas e.' A fter a m om ent, while the c hildren various ly s c ribbled on piec es of paper, or jus t s uc ked the ends of their penc ils and gazed up around the room , Mrs S m art s aid, 'Y es , A lic e. Have you got an interes ting verb for us ?' 'Mis s , c atc h,' the girl s houted out, 'Let's s ay it in full s hall we, A lic e? T oday I c atc h, tom orrow I s hall c atc h, yes terday I c aught. Good. Com e on, then, Ros s , I c an s ee your hand waving in the air.' A little fair-headed boy took a hearty breath before announc ing: 'T oday I fly, tom orrow I s hall fly, yes terday I flew.' 'T hat was a very good one, Ros s . W ell done. Now, let m e s ee. W ho s hall I pic k? W hat about you, J oanna?' 'T oday I write, tom orrow I s hall write, yes terday I wrote,' c hanted the girl c onfidently. 'W e are getting s om e lovely verbs ,' c hortled the teac her. 'Now who els e has one?' Mrs S m art looked round the room and I s aw her eyes c om e to res t on J us tin. 'W hat about you, J us tin? Have you an interes ting verb for us ?' 'I c an't think of one, m is s ,' he replied. 'W ell, try.' T he c hild thought for a m om ent before s aying loudly, 'T oday I wink, tom orrow I s hall wink, yes terday I wank.' Mrs S m art gas ped and s pluttered like a fis h out of water. S he took a deep deep breath, like a s wim m er preparing to plunge into the pool, and her eyes grew wide and wild. 'W inked! ' s he s aid s lowly and with tight res traint. 'T oday I wink, tom orrow I s hall wink, yes terday I W -I-N-K -E -D! ' and s he s pelled out the las t word with heavy em phas is . Little J us tin s tared at her m utely. T he teac her then c lapped her hands s m artly and pluc ked up a s tic k of c halk. 'E veryone! P ut your penc ils down for a m om ent and look this way.' S he turned to the blac kboard and wrote a s eries of words in large letters , s ounding them out loudly and dis tinc tly at the s am e tim e. 'T oday I wink, tom orrow I s hall wink, yes terday I w ink ed. Let's all s ay it.' T he c las s c hanted the s entenc es in s ing-s ong tones . 'T oday I blink,' c ontinued Mrs S m art, her fac e and nec k s uffus ed in c rim s on, 'tom orrow I s hall blink, yes terday I blinked.' T he c hildren dutifully repeated the phras es . A t m orning break, I s at with Mrs S m art in her room . S he c ontinued to wear a determ ined expres s ion and her blotc hy red nec k s till betrayed trac es of the nervous ras h. S he fingered the rope of yellow beads without appearing to realis e s he was doing s o. 'I wis h I had never ever s tarted to teac h them about tens es ,' s he told m e, c lutc hing the beads . 'E s pec ially with you being here. I m ean, I nearly died when he c am e out with that word.' 'W e all do it, Mrs S m art,' I s aid, trying to put her at her eas e. 'I beg your pardon, Mr P hinn?' s he gas ped a s ec ond tim e. 'W hat I m ean,' I replied, beginning to turn her s hade of red, 'is that we all apply our knowledge, if you s ee what I m ean.' 'No, I don't s ee what you m ean,' s aid Mrs S m art, her eyes as wide as c hapel hat pegs . 'It's a tric ky and troubles om e bus ines s --' 'W hat is ?' s he interrupted. 'T he E nglis h tens e s ys tem ,' I attem pted to explain. 'A c tually, all J us tin was doing was m aking a reas onable gues s . S ink, pas t tens e s ank, s tink, pas t tens e s tank, s hrink, pas t tens e s hrank, wink pas t tens e -' 'W inked! ' s he interpos ed quic kly. 'Y ou s ee, Mrs S m art,' I explained, 'the c hild is em ploying a rule whic h applies to a s im ilar word. A c tually, it was pretty as tute of him . It's c alled linguis tic extrapolation, you know.' 'I don't c are what it is c alled, Mr P hinn,' as s erted the teac her, huffing and puffing and fingering the beads , 'he's not doing any extrapolating in my c las s room ! ' A s I was driving bac k to Fettles ham at the end of the m orning, I was thinking of J us tin and was rem inded of other oc c as ions when pupils had been in trouble with their teac hers . T here was the one bright s park, of about the s am e age, who had been s ent to the headteac her by the c ros s ing patrol warden for throwing a piec e of hard m ud at another c hild. T he infant, far from being rem ors eful, had told the headteac her that he had not intended to hurt the other c hild, he had been m erely trying to attrac t his attention. T he headteac her, unc onvinc ed, had told the c hild to s it in her room and, as a punis hm ent, to write out s everal tim es the very c onvoluted s entenc e: 'Rather than throwing a piec e of hard m ud at another c hild, whic h is a very dangerous thing to do, I c ould c om m unic ate with him by...' S he had as ked the c hild to think about what he had done and c om plete the s entenc e. S everal m inutes later, the m is c reant had pres ented her with a s eries of s om ewhat lop-s ided lines whic h read: 'Rather than throwing a piec e of hard m ud at another c hild, whic h is a very dangerous thing to do, I c ould c om m unic ate with him by letter, pos tc ard, phone, c arrier pigeon or s m oke s ignals .' T here was another m em orable oc c as ion when a pupil's res pons e had c om pelled m e to s m ile. In the c orridor outs ide a c las s room of a very pres tigious s ec ondary s c hool had s tood an extrem ely s m artly turned-out young m an, his s c hool uniform im m ac ulate. 'Have you been s ent out?' I had as ked him . 'Y es , s ir,' the s tudent had replied, with no trac e of em barras s m ent or dis c om fiture. 'A nd why is that?' 'Gros s ins olenc e, s ir,' he had replied s erious ly. 'Gros s ins olenc e?' I had repeated, thinking that his c rim e m us t have indeed been heinous . 'Y es , s ir.' 'W hatever did you s ay?' 'W ell, it was n't s o m uc h what I s aid, s ir,' he had replied, 'it was m ore what I wrote.' 'A nd what did you write?' 'W e were as ked to c om pos e an es s ay entitled, "Im agine you are a new born baby, and des c ribe your firs t week in the world".' W hat a ridic ulous es s ay to s et a c las s of fifteen-year-old boys , I had thought. 'I s ee,' I had rem arked. 'A nd I did as I was as ked,' the boy had c ontinued, 'and wrote three s ides on the topic .' 'A nd what did you write?' I had as ked again. 'Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug,' he had replied without a trac e of a s m ile. T he afternoon following the winker epis ode, the full team of ins pec tors was in the S taff Developm ent Centre, giving Harold feedbac k on one of the endles s Minis try of E duc ation initiatives whic h were s ent to try our patienc e. 'Colleagues ,' s aid Harold, 'you have worked extrem ely hard and I am very grateful. I c an put all this together in the next c ouple of days and get it off to the Minis try before Chris tm as .' 'S inc e we have done s uc h a s terling job of work, Harold,' I s aid, 'and as a s m all token of your gratitude, m ay we have the rem ainder of the afternoon off to c om plete our Chris tm as s hopping?' 'I'm afraid not, Gervas e. T here is a lot to get through. In addition, I have as ked Mrs S avage to join our m eeting later on. T here are a num ber of item s on the agenda whic h involve her.' 'Oh dear, oh dear,' I groaned, 'that's the Chris tm as s pirit out of the window.' 'T hat has c ertainly taken the s hine off proc eedings and no m is take,' s aid David. 'It has c om pletely and utterly s poilt the res t of m y day. I have avoided that wom an as s iduous ly this term , dodged her m em os , eluded her telephone c alls , evaded her wretc hed form s and es c aped having to m eet her and now I am dragooned into s pending an afternoon with her. A ny Chris tm as s pirit I had has quite drained away.' 'David,' s aid Gerry, laughing, 'this is a tim e of peac e and goodwill to all.' 'I am happy to dis pens e peac e and goodwill to everyone with the exc eption of that wom an,' replied David, s c rewing up his fac e. 'Hear, hear,' I added. 'I really do think you are being a little unkind to Mrs S avage,' s aid Harold. 'I know s he c an be rather diffic ult and s om etim es s om ewhat s hort with people, but s he is a c olleague and I do hope you will all s how her, at the very leas t, s om e c om m on c ourtes y when s he arrives .' 'I'm s urpris ed s he c an find the tim e to join us ,' rem arked S idney. 'S he m us t be m is s ing the m atinee perform anc e in the pantom im e in whic h s he s tars as the W ic ked S tepm other or is it the W ic ked W itc h this year?' 'Y ou are all being very c hildis h about this ,' s aid Harold c ros s ly. 'No, Harold,' c ried S idney, 'that wom an is im pos s ible. S he's s o unpleas ant, s he would get threatening telephone c alls from the S am aritans .' 'S he is definitely getting wors e,' I s aid. 'Inc identally, Harold, how's her rom anc e with Dr Gore?' B efore he c ould ans wer, S idney jum ped in. 'Can you im agine her as Mrs CE O? S he would, no doubt, adopt a pretentious double-barrelled nam e, c alling hers elf Mrs S avage-Gore and be even m ore ins ufferable, s elf-opinionated, patronis ing and all-round dis agreeable.' 'Don't hold bac k, S idney,' s aid Gerry, s haking with laughter. 'W hy don't you tell us all what you really think about Mrs S avage?' 'T here's nothing afoot on that s c ore from what I c an tell,' reported Harold. 'I think when you s aw Dr Gore and Mrs S avage at the end of the s um m er term , Gervas e, it was m erely a bos s taking his as s is tant out for dinner to thank her for all her hard work.' 'T hank her for all her hard work! ' exc laim ed David. 'A nd what hard work would this be then?' He put on his s pec tac les and peered ac ros s the table. 'A s far as m eaningles s phras es and unpronounc eable gobbets of jargon the Minis try is s o fond of us ing, you need go no further than Mrs S avage's m em oranda. I

m ean -' 'I thought you s aid you were very adept at dodging her m em os ,' rem arked S idney. 'Have you two ever thought of bec om ing a c om edy double ac t?' as ked Harold. B efore m y c olleagues c ould reply, he s tood and headed for the door. 'Let's have lunc h.' 'T his m orning,' s aid S idney, 'I rec eived yet another frightful Chris tm as c ard from s om e unknown pers on.' W e were s itting in the s taff lounge having a c up of tea and a break while Harold s orted out his papers and m ade s om e urgent telephone c alls before the s tart of the final s es s ion. 'E very year I rec eive thes e awful c ards from people who apparently know m e but I have no idea who they are. I m ight well dis pens e with the whole tires om e bus ines s of s ending Chris tm as c ards .' 'Y ou s ound like S c rooge, S idney,' Gerry told him . 'I like getting c ards . It's part of Chris tm as .' 'S o do I,' I agreed. 'I even got a c ard from the es tate agent, s igned by all the s taff. I rec koned it was rather thoughtful.' 'Y ou got a c ard from the es tate agents ,' S idney told m e, 'bec aus e they'll try every m eans to inveigle you into s tum ping up thous ands of pounds for a m ound of rubble they euphem is tic ally c all a "des irable res idenc e". A nyway, how is the hous e hunting going?' 'Oh, we've looked at a few plac es . Chris tine and 1 have our heart s et on an old c ountry c ottage with a view but they are s o expens ive.' 'Y ou live in an old c ottage, don't you, Gerry?' s aid S idney, availing him s elf of the opportunity to do a little probing. 'Y es , I do,' s he replied without elaborating. 'In B artondale, is n't it?' 'T otterdale,' s he replied. 'Oh, T otterdale. It's very pic tures que up there,' s aid S idney, 'and not an arm and leg away from Fettles ham . A re there any c ottages for s ale in T otterdale, then?' W hen no one ans wered, he pers evered. 'Geraldine?' 'I'm s orry, S idney,' s he s aid, 'were you talking to m e?' 'I was as king if there were any c ottages for s ale in T otterdale? Y ou c ould have the P hinns as neighbours .' 'Oh, very few c om e on the m arket,' s he replied defens ively. 'It's rather a pric ey area. I rent m ine.' S he c hanged the s ubjec t quic kly. 'On the ques tion of whether or not to s end Chris tm as c ards , I s hall c ertainly be s ending them but it is jus t a ques tion of finding the tim e to write them .' 'W ell I, for onc e, agree with S idney,' s aid David. 'It's bec om e m erely a wearis om e ritual every Chris tm as to s end c ards to people you haven't s een for years and are not likely to ever s ee again. A nd the m ajority of c ards are expens ive and hideous to boot.' I had had jus t about enough of the c arping duo and knew jus t how to s hut the two of them up. I winked c ons piratorially at Gerry. 'Oh, I don't know. T he one from Dr Gore, I thought, was partic ularly tas teful this year,' I s aid c as ually. 'Y ou got one from Dr Gore?' dem anded David in a s tartled voic e. 'Y es , exc eptionally large and im pres s ive.' 'Y ou rec eived a c ard from our es teem ed leader?' as ked S idney. 'Really?' 'Y es ,' I replied, 'didn't you?' In tim e-honoured tradition, I c ros s ed m y fingers as I told m y tiny white lie. 'W ell, no,' s aid S idney. 'I did not.' He was obvious ly rather affronted. 'Neither did I,' s aid David. 'P erhaps he's trying to tell you s om ething,' rem arked Gerry, attem pting to keep a s traight fac e. 'Did you get a c ard from Dr Gore, too, Geraldine?' as ked David. 'I thought everyone got one,' s he replied, s m iling s weetly. 'Mine was very artis tic - a s uperb view ac ros s a s now-c overed dale and the thoughtful m es s age ins ide was --' 'S uperb view, thoughtful m es s age,' repeated S idney. 'T his is m os t ups etting,' s aid David. 'W hy s hould he s end a c ard to Gervas e and Geraldine and not to us ? A fter all, they're relative newc om ers in the departm ent.' 'I thought the two of you c ons idered the whole idea of s ending c ards was a was te of tim e,' I s aid s m ugly. 'I bet it was that harridan, that ghas tly Mrs S avage, who jus t c ros s ed us off Dr Gore's lis t,' s norted S idney. 'W ell, if you won't fill in your weekly reports ,' I began but was interrupted by Connie m aking a s udden entranc e. 'Good afternoon,' s he s aid, s c rutinis ing the room for any m es s . 'Good afternoon, Connie,' we all c horus ed. 'I thought I'd let you know, m y s tep-ladders have m aterialis ed.' 'Materialis ed?' I s aid. 'I didn't know they were m is s ing.' 'Y es , they dis appeared from the s tore-room . A t firs t, I thought Mr Clam p had taken them to do his arty dis plays .' 'W ould I do s uc h a thing, Connie?' s aid S idney, pretending to be affronted. 'Y es ,' s aid Connie s harply. 'T hen I thought it m ight be Mr P ritc hard us ing them for his P E c las s es .' David rais ed his hand to his fac e in m oc k horror. 'I would never do anything of the s ort.' 'Y es , you would, Mr P ritc hard. Y ou did las t year. A nyway, the s teps have m aterialis ed.' 'Really! ' exc laim ed S idney. 'Materialis ing s tep-ladders ! Did they appear to you in s om e s ort of m irac le.' Connie threw him a dark look. 'W here were they?' I as ked. 'T he m aintenanc e m en us ed them when they were pruning the c reeper on the fenc e at the bac k. J us t took them out of the s tore without a by-your-leave and then left them out. P ropped up on the wall at the bac k, they were. I do wis h folks would put things bac k where they found them .' 'I am s ure you im pres s ed this upon them , Connie,' s aid S idney, 'in your us ual indefatigable way.' 'Do you know, Mr Clam p, I c an never m ake head nor tail of what you are on about half the tim e. It's all double Dutc h to m e.' 'W here has plain E nglis h gone?' s aid David. 'W here is the language of Chauc er and S hakes peare and Os c ar W ilde?' 'A nyway,' c ontinued Connie, 'they'll not be walking off with m y s tep-ladders again. I've put a loc k and c hain around them .' 'A little dras tic , Connie,' obs erved S idney. 'Is n't there a law about c haining people up?' 'T he ladders ! ' s napped Connie. 'How's your father?' I as ked, rec koning it wis e to c hange the s ubjec t. 'Not too good, I'm afraid. T hey're keeping him in hos pital for the tim e being. I went to s ee his doc tor to talk about what we ought to do when he c om es out. He was about as m uc h us e as a c hoc olate teapot. I don't think we'll s ee Dad at hom e for Chris tm as .' 'If there's anything we c an do, Connie,' s aid Gerry, 'let us know. Y ou m ight want running in to the hos pital, s om e s hopping, that s ort of thing.' 'T hanks , but I've got m y T ed and m y daughter, T ric ia. T hank you for offering anyway. I really c am e in to tell Dr Y eats that that Mrs S avage has arrived from County Hall and s he's waiting in the m eeting room . I had to tell her to park her c ar away from m y entranc e again. If looks c ould kill, I'd be s ix foot under. P eople jus t don't read notic es .' 'Dr Y eats is m aking a few telephone c alls ,' I s aid, getting to m y feet. 'I'll tell him s he's arrived.' 'Colleagues ! ' c ried S idney, jum ping up as if he had s at on s om ething s harp. 'Let us fac e the enem y. Onc e m ore unto the breac h, dear friends , onc e m ore! S tiffen the s inews , c onjure up the blood, dis guis e fair nature with hard-favoured rage. Cry God for Harold, Y orks hire and Dr Gore! ' 'Double Dutc h,' m um bled Connie s haking her head. 'Double Dutc h.' Mrs S avage was s tanding s tiffly by the window with an expres s ion of ic y im perturbability when we entered. S he wore an expens ive navy blue blazer with gold buttons over a tailored s tone-c oloured dres s , s ilk s c arf at her nec k and the us ual as s ortm ent of heavy jewellery. Her m ake-up was im pec c able and not a hair was out of plac e. S he turned s lowly to fac e Harold, with a c las h of brac elets and a fals e s m ile. 'A h, Dr Y eats ,' s he s aid. 'Mrs S avage,' s aid Harold, giving her a great toothy grin. 'It is good of you to join us . Do take a s eat. W ould you like s om e c offee?' 'No, thank you,' s he replied loftily. 'I only drink herbal tea.' 'W ell, I don't think Connie runs to that at the Centre. S hall we m ake a s tart then?' W e all s at at the large s quare table with Harold alone on one s ide. He s m oothed his hair, s huffled s om e papers and took out his pen. 'Right, well, the firs t item on the agenda this afternoon is --' 'B efore we begin, Dr Y eats ,' s aid Mrs S avage, pic king up a large brown envelope that was on the table in front of her, 'I have brought with m e the s hort-lis t for the pos t of S enior Ins pec tor. T he CE O and the S ub-Com m ittee have whittled down the large and very im pres s ive num ber of applic ants for the pos t to ten and Dr Gore has as ked if you would c as t your eye over them and give him your views before he m akes the final s elec tion. W e will be c alling five for interview in the New Y ear.' S he was c areful to avoid looking at m e. T here had been no need for Mrs S avage to have brought along the applic ations and to m ake s uc h a public s how of the whole thing. S he c ould have eas ily given them to Harold m uc h m ore dis c reetly but I knew her little gam e. S he was no doubt aware that I had applied for the pos t and was wanting m e to know that it had attrac ted a wide and high-quality field and that I s tood little c hanc e. A fter a lot of s oul-s earc hing and late-night c onvers ations with Chris tine, I had dec ided to go ahead and put in an applic ation. 'T hank you, Mrs S avage,' s aid Harold, reac hing over and pluc king the envelope from her hand. I c ould s ee that he was far from pleas ed with her little ploy. 'A nd I don't need to im pres s upon you, Dr Y eats , that the c ontents of that envelope are s tric tly private and c onfidential.' Harold s tared at her for a m om ent with his large watery blue eyes before replying. 'No, Mrs S avage, you do not have to im pres s that upon m e. I am fully aware of the proc edures regarding the appointm ent of s taff. Now, let us look at the firs t item on the agenda - s ec retarial s upport.' His gaze rem ained on Mrs S avage. 'A s you are aware, Dr Mullarkey s welled our ranks las t term and this has res ulted in a great deal of additional paper work for J ulie to deal with. It has added an extra and unac c eptably heavy load on our s ec retary and -' 'May I s top you there one m om ent, Dr Y eats ,' s aid Mrs S avage, s wivelling a large ring round one of her fingers . 'T he young wom an in your offic e is not des ignated as a s ec retary. S he is a c leric al as s is tant.' 'No m atter what you c all her, we refer to her as our s ec retary,' s aid Harold firm ly. 'For all intents and purpos es , J ulie does the work of a s ec retary - and m ore. A nyway, we did, as you know, have s om e tem porary help initially from an agenc y but the young wom an s ec ured a perm anent pos t and we are now in need of s om eone els e to help out.' Mrs S avage s m iled. It was not a pleas ant s m ile. 'I am afraid the on-going s trategic s ituation in the educ ation departm ent, Dr Y eats , is that we have, at pres ent, a s erious c leric al pers onnel es tablis hm ent s hortfall.' 'A what?' as ked S idney, s itting bolt upright in his c hair. 'I s aid,' repeated Mrs S avage, s peaking s lowly and dis tinc tly, 'a s erious c leric al pers onnel es tablis hm ent s hortfall.' 'Not enough s taff,' explained David. 'T his was the direc t res ult of nec es s ary downs izing s om e years ago.' 'Downs izing?' s aid S idney. 'S ac king,' explained David. 'W e are now looking to enhanc e our s taffing c om plem ent.' 'E m ploy s om e m ore people,' s aid David. 'S o, what you are s aying, Mrs S avage,' I s aid, trying not to laugh, 'is that you rec ognis e that we are unders taffed and you are going to s ort out another s ec retary for us .' 'Cleric al as s is tant,' c orrec ted Mrs S avage. 'Y ou c an c all the pers on whatever you like, Mrs S avage,' s aid David. 'A ll we need is s om eone to help J ulie type reports , deal with the pos t, arrange appointm ents , deal with the telephone queries , photoc opy m aterials for our c ours es , do the filing and m ake the odd c up of c offee.' 'I think you have m ade your point, Mr P ritc hard,' s aid Mrs S avage. 'I s hall s ee what I c an do.' 'It is pretty urgent, Mrs S avage,' s aid David. 'I c annot, at this s tage, prom is e anything, Mr P ritc hard,' replied Mrs S avage c as ually. 'A s I have jus t s aid, I s hall s ee what I c an do.' 'W ell, is it pos s ible for you to do it s ooner rather than later?' I s aid. 'J ulie has a real bac klog whic h none of us wants c arried on into the new term .' Mrs S avage eyed m e ac idly. 'Mr P hinn,' s he s aid, 'I s hall endeavour, as I keep s aying, to s ee what I c an do.' 'Let's m ove on,' s aid Harold. T he s m ile had dis appeared from his fac e. 'T he next item on the agenda is the Fettles ham S how.' T here was a s eries of audible s ighs and groans from around the table. 'Y es , yes , I know, but it is fas t c om ing around again and we all have to pull our weight.' 'Harold,' s aid S idney, 'the Fettles ham S how is an opportunity for farm ers , landowners , loc al s hopkeepers and c rafts m en, and all m anner of people involved in rural life to s pend a week m ounting dis plays and exhibitions , but why do we, as educ ationalis ts , have to be a part of this ? It is nothing whats oever to do with ins pec ting s c hools .' 'W e go through the reas ons every year, S idney,' began Harold wearily but was , onc e m ore, interrupted by Mrs S avage. 'If I m ay, Dr Y eats ,' interpos ed Mrs S avage. 'Dr Gore is very keen that the E duc ation Departm ent is repres ented at the s how, as it has been for m any years now. E duc ation is always in the public eye and it gives us an opportunity to s et out our s tall, tell the general public what we are about, ans wer ques tions and give inform ation about the s c hools and c olleges in the c ounty. It is an exc ellent public relations exerc is e for us .' 'Do you know, Mrs S avage,' s aid David, 'you have m entioned the words "us " and "we" s everal tim es , but I s hould point out that it is this team whic h has to do all the work. Dr Y eats has to m an that wretc hed E duc ation T ent all day, and I and m y c olleagues have all the exhibitions to m ount.' 'May I rem ind you, Mr P ritc hard,' s aid Mrs S avage tartly, 'that there are s om e of us who work extrem ely hard behind the s c enes dealing with all the adm inis tration.' 'A nd what adm inis tration would this be?' enquired S idney. 'Look, this is getting us nowhere,' broke in Harold. 'I as ked Gervas e to c ollec t together a few initial s ugges tions , Mrs S avage, and you will be pleas ed to hear that we will be organis ing the various exhibitions of c hildren's work. However, I c annot, at this s tage, prom is e very m uc h m ore.' 'Dr Gore is partic ularly keen,' s aid Mrs S avage as if s he had not heard, 'that this year we have a s ignific ant pres enc e. Las t year, it was a very s m all-s c ale c ontribution on our part c om pared with previous years . T he art c om petition was , for s om e unac c ountable reas on, c anc elled.' 'I c an ac c ount for that, Mrs S avage, if you have five hours ,' rem arked S idney. 'T he s ports events did not take plac e,' s he c ontinued blithely. 'W ith good reas on,' s aid David. 'A nd the poetry c om petition was judged by s om e loc al poet rather than you, Mr P hinn.' 'W hic h c an be fully explained,' I s aid. 'Now this year, Dr Gore hopes that all the ac tivities of previous years , and indeed m ore, will be up and running, in addition of c ours e to our advis ory des k in the E duc ation T ent. I s hall, of c ours e, be c o-ordinating everything and if Dr Gore is in agreem ent, I s hould be only too happy to join you, Dr Y eats , in the tent on the day and give what help and s upport I c an.' I s m othered a grin as I s aw Harold winc e. 'I am s ure that Dr Gore and I c an rely on the ins pec tors to give this m atter their full and im m ediate attention.' Mrs S avage s at bac k in her c hair, apparently finis hed. Harold thought for a m om ent, s troked his c hin and nodded s agac ious ly. 'T he c om petition judging has always proved to be a little c ontentious . However, we will dis c us s it.' He thought for a m om ent. 'A s you are aware, Mrs S avage, we have a vas t am ount of work on at the m om ent and there is , of c ours e, the extra and unac c eptably heavy load on our s ec retary.' He s m iled, dis playing his s et of large white teeth. 'W e s hall have to s ee what we c an do.' T he rem ainder of the afternoon, in whic h we dis c us s ed a whole range of tedious m atters , s eem ed to drag interm inably. A t s ix o'c loc k, Connie popped her head around the door. S he had abandoned her pink nylon overall in favour of a large grey duffel c oat with fur-trim m ed hood, thic k woollen s c arf tied in an enorm ous knot under her c hin and s hort green boots . S he looked like an E s kim o. 'How long are you going to be?' s he as ked bluntly. 'Nearly finis hed, Connie,' s aid Harold. 'I'm loc king up in ten m inutes ,' s he told him . 'I'm jus t doing m y rounds .' 'W e won't be long now, Connie,' s aid Harold. 'It's getting very ic y tonight s o be c areful on the path. I've put s om e s alt and s and down but it's s till very s lippery. It's c old enough to freeze the flippers off an A rc tic penguin out there.' Connie dis appeared only to return a m om ent later. 'Oh, and whos e is that fanc y red s ports c ar out the front?' S he knew very well who the owner of the s ports c ar was s inc e s he had as ked the owner to rem ove it on m any oc c as ions . 'It's m ine,' s aid Mrs S avage c oldly. 'Y ou m ay rec all that you as ked m e earlier to park it well away from your entranc e whic h I did. Is there s om ething els e?' 'W ell, you've left your lights on,' s aid Connie. 'I s inc erely hope you haven't got a flat battery, Mrs S avage,' s aid S idney with m oc k c onc ern in his voic e. 'T hat w ould s poil your evening.'

8 It was the firs t week bac k after the Chris tm as break and the offic e was unus ually quiet. S idney was direc ting an art c ours e at the S taff Developm ent Centre, David was on a c onferenc e for m athem atic s ins pec tors , Harold was c los eted with Dr Gore, no doubt dis c us s ing arrangem ents for the interviews for the S enior Ins pec tor's pos t, and J ulie was nowhere to be s een. S o there was only Gerry and m e in the offic e. I had not s een her alone s inc e I had heard the news about her extended fam ily at the golf c lub dinner before Chris tm as . 'S o what s ort of Chris tm as did you have?' s he as ked, looking up from her papers . 'Oh, rather m ore hec tic than las t year,' I replied. 'I s pent a few days with Chris tine's parents in Collington, m eeting all the relations and doing the rounds of friends and neighbours , before going to m y parents for B oxing Day and then we had a weekend to ours elves in S ettle. W e went to the s am e exc ellent hotel as we went to las t Chris tm as - it is really c om fortable and has m arvellous food s o we dec ided to go bac k. W e walked for m iles and s pent hours dis c us s ing weddings and honeym oons and hous es .' 'Of c ours e, it's only a few m onths to go now before the big day, is n't it? Have you dec ided where you're going to live yet?' 'W ell, Chris tine lives at hom e at the m om ent and I'm s till in that poky little flat here in Fettles ham above T he Rum bling T um . I c ertainly won't m is s the s m ell of c hips wafting up the s tairs every day and the nois e of lorries off-loading in the High S treet late at night and in the early hours of the m orning. W e really want s om ewhere in eas y reac h of both her s c hool and County Hall. Ribs dyke is quite nic e, W illingforth is lovely but expens ive, Mertonbec k is a pos s ibility but a bit out of the way. I really like T otterdale where you live but the hous es are expens ive and hard to c om e by. W hen the weather im proves , we intend looking s erious ly.' 'W hat s ort of hous e have you in m ind?' 'Ideally, we'd like that s m all c ountry c ottage in honey-c oloured s tone with ros es around the door, the one you s ee on pos tc ards , with uninterrupted views of open c ountrys ide. E verybody els e wants it, too, I'm afraid. W e've got a m as s of broc hures from the es tate agents and jus t love one partic ular c ottage in Hawks rill but it is being s old at auc tion and one never knows what they will fetc h. I expec t we'll end up in a m odern box on an es tate in Fettles ham . I think that's the only plac e we'll be able to afford.' 'W hat about the job, have you heard anything about that? If you got the S enior Ins pec tor's job, you would be able to afford m ore.' 'Not a thing. Harold s ays that the CE O will be s ending out the letters inviting c andidates for interview this week, s o I s hould know before Friday. I don't hold out a lot of hope after what Mrs S avage s aid. Of c ours e, Harold has n't s aid a word, jus t keeps s taring at m e ins c rutably. In fac t, the m ain reas on for c alling in this m orning was to s ee if there was any news .' W hen I s aw that Gerry had not returned to her work, but was s taring pens ively out of the window, I as ked, 'W hat about you, did you have a nic e Chris tm as ?' 'Y es , I did, thanks . P retty quiet but very pleas ant.' A s us ual, s he was n't giving m uc h away. 'Did you go bac k to Ireland?' 'No, I s tayed here.' 'B y yours elf?' 'Y es , well, no, I had friends round and... I had s om e fam ily over. Gervas e, you haven't s een the note Harold s ent around about the Fettles ham S how, have you? I've put it down s om ewhere and c an't lay m y hands on it.' 'It's right there under your nos e,' I s aid, pointing to the green m em orandum that c ould not be m is s ed. 'Oh, yes . I'm ac tually looking forward to taking part in the Fettles ham S how. I thought I'd get a group of s tudents to dem ons trate s om e prac tic al tec hnology work, perhaps m ount an exhibition of c hildren's writing and drawings on wildlife, anim al c ons ervation, that s ort of thing. W hat do you think?' Gerry c learly wanted to keep off the s ubjec t of what s he had done over Chris tm as s o I dec ided to probe no m ore. 'S ounds good,' I s aid, 'but I would go eas y on the anim al c ons ervation bit. T his is a fox-hunting and grous e-s hooting c ounty, you know, and there's s om e wildlife m any of the loc als are not very keen on pres erving - pigeons and rooks , m oles and rats , for exam ple. I onc e m ade the great m is take of reading a B eatrix P otter s tory to group of infants m os t of whom lived on farm s . "W hat a pity it would be if Mr Mc Gregor c aught poor little P eter Rabbit," I told them . It went down like a lead balloon. "Rabbits ! " s aid one little lad. "W e s hoot 'em ! "' 'I'll rem em ber that,' s aid Gerry, laughing. T he c lattering on the s tairs s ignalled the im m inent arrival of J ulie. S he entered a m om ent later with s uc h a broad s m ile on her fac e that s he res em bled s om e m anic c lown. 'I c ould kis s that darling m an! ' s he exc laim ed. 'I c ould s queeze him to death. I don't know what he s aid to Mrs S avage but Dr Y eats is a m irac le worker.' 'S om eone's in a good m ood,' s aid Gerry. 'T hat's bec aus e I've got an as s is tant to help m e with all the paperwork and, wait for it - it's a he, a c hap! He c an type, file, do everything.' 'W ow! ' laughed Gerry. 'A m an! ' 'Y es , there are m ore and m ore m ale s ec retaries , you know. I've not got him all to m ys elf, m ind. He's s pending half his tim e with the ps yc hologis ts downs tairs and half his tim e with m e up here. His nam e's Frank. Y ou know, of all the people who have dealings with that dreadful wom an, Dr Y eats is the bes t. He has her eating out of his hands .' 'It's c alled c harm and patienc e,' s aid Gerry. 'Us ually a highly s uc c es s ful form ula.' 'I don't c are what it's c alled. He's got m e an as s is tant. Now, who's for a c up of c offee?' 'No, thanks , J ulie,' I s aid, ris ing to go, 'I have a full day in s c hools today s o m us t be off. A c tually, I only c alled in to s ee if there was any news on the interviews and to s hift s om e of the paperwork. I'll be in tom orrow early. T here's that c ours e outline to finis h, if you c an get around to it today. It is pretty urgent, I'm afraid.' 'No worries ,' replied J ulie. 'I s hall give it to Frank.' S is ter B rendan s aw m y c ar pull up outs ide her offic e window and m om ents later was at the entranc e waiting to greet m e. 'Good m orning, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid c heerfully, us hering m e into the s c hool. 'Good m orning, S is ter.' 'A nd have you had a res tful Chris tm as ?' 'Y es , indeed, and what about you?' 'Lovely. Now, I've put you with Mrs W ebb and the juniors firs t thing. T hen after m orning playtim e, you're with m e and the little ones . Is that ac c eptable to you?' 'T hat's fine. A nd how is Mrs W ebb?' T he las t tim e I had ins pec ted S t B artholom ew's Rom an Catholic Infant S c hool in indus trial Crom pton, Mrs W ebb had been abs ent. S he had been on a guided tour of the Holy Land, c alled 'W alking in the Foots teps of J es us ', when s he had fallen down a pothole and broken a leg. Mons ignor Leonard had rem arked to S is ter later that had Mrs W ebb been s ens ible and worn s andals , s uc h as J es us m ight have worn, s he would not have found hers elf hos pitalis ed in J erus alem . 'I'm afraid her leg is s till not right,' s aid S is ter, 'but I have to s ay that Mrs W ebb is a wom an of great faith and fortitude. S he is going on another pilgrim age this year, to Lourdes . S he's not only a wom an of great faith and fortitude, you know, Mr P hinn, s he's als o s om ething of a m artyr. Mis s Fenoughty has s igned up for the trip as well and Mrs W ebb has agreed to s it next to her on the c oac h. I c annot im agine a wors e penanc e than s pending a long c oac h journey through Franc e with deaf Mis s Fenoughty at m y s ide. I know it s ounds unc haritable, but Mis s Fenoughty would try the patienc e of a s aint.' Mrs W ebb was waiting for m e: s he was a prim , red-fac ed wom an with s m all quizzic al eyes and s ported a thic k brown elas tic s toc king on one leg. Her c las s room was bright and c heerful, the walls c overed with glos s y travel pos ters . In pride of plac e, on a s m all table at the front of the room , s tood two plas ter s tatues with s m all vas es of fres h flowers before them . One s tatue was of the V irgin Mary, draped in a pale blue c loak and wearing a golden c rown. S he had large blue eyes and a gentle s m ile. T he other was of J es us who I notic ed wore very s ubs tantial footwear, the s ort of s andals that would s tand up to the potholes of the Holy Land. I s pent an interes ting tim e with Mrs W ebb's junior c las s who were bus y writing little poem s on paper c ut-outs of foots teps . 'Later, I s hall type out all the poem s and m ake a s m all anthology whic h the c hildren c an take hom e to their parents . I s hall m ount the original foots teps along the wall and c all the dis play "W alking in the Foots teps of the P oet".' I was tem pted to s ay, 'Rather s afer than "W alking in the Foots teps of J es us "' but thought better of it. W atc hing the teac her lim ping from des k to des k and rec alling the ac c ount of her ill-fated journey to J erus alem , I thought this rather an inc ongruous tas k to s et the c hildren. For the rem ainder of the m orning I joined the infants . T hey were bus y painting, s howing all the c onfidenc e and enthus ias m that only very young c hildren and very experienc ed artis ts c an do. A t s uc h a young age, c hildren are totally uninhibited in their painting. T hey depic t the world as a bright, bold, happy plac e full of round, pink, s m iling fac es , hous es like s m iling boxes and blue trees . T hey s plas h on c olours with abandon, m aking great s wirling c urves and huge blobs with their brus hes , they s patter and daub, s m udge and s m ear and produc e the m os t wonderful c reations . 'T ell m e about this ,' I s aid to Mary, a s m all girl with a round s auc er fac e. Her drawing depic ted a brightly c oloured, egg-like figure with long s pidery fingers , kneeling before what looked like an im m ens e c oloured lake with tiny roc ks , bits of driftwood and floating weed in it. 'It's s om eone s aying a prayer,' explained the c hild. 'I s ee,' I s aid. 'A nd is this a lake?' 'No, that's the s ic k', little Mary replied, dipping her brus h into a large pot of m us tard-c oloured paint. 'S he's s aying a prayer for the s ic k.' T he next c hild I enc ountered, a s erious -fac ed girl with m ore paint on hers elf than on the large piec e of paper in front of her, had drawn what I thought was a s nake. T he long, m ulti-c oloured c reature c urled and twis ted ac ros s the page like a writhing s erpent from a fairy s tory. It was a s m all m as terpiec e with intric ate patterning and delightful detail. 'T hat's a very c olourful s nake,' I c om m ented. 'It's not a s nake,' the c hild told m e, putting down her brus h and folding her little arm s ac ros s her c hes t. 'It's a road.' 'It looks like a s nake to m e.' 'W ell, it's not. It's a road. I know 'c os I painted it.' 'A h, yes , I c an s ee now,' I had s aid tac tfully. 'Is it a m agic road?' 'No.' 'It looks like a m agic road to m e.' 'W ell, it is n't,' s aid the c hild. 'It's an ordinary road.' 'B ut it's full of greens and reds and blues . It looks like a m agic road. P erhaps it leads to an ic e palac e beyond the ragged c louds where the S now Queen lives .' T he c hild obs erved m e for a m om ent. 'It's an ordinary road and does n't lead to any ic e palac e.' 'W hy all the c olours ?' I as ked, intrigued. Her finger trac ed the c urve of the road. 'T hos e are the diam onds and thos e the rubies and thos e are the em eralds ,' s he explained. 'It is a m agic road! ' I teas ed. 'No, it's not,' the c hild replied, 'it's a "jewel" c arriageway.' Having delivered another very pos itive report to S is ter B rendan on what I had obs erved that m orning, I dis c us s ed s om e of the c hildren I had m et. W hen I brought up Mary and her prayer for the s ic k, an enigm atic s m ile c am e to the nun's fac e. 'A h yes ,' s aid the nun, 'the very m ention of that c hild's nam e always m akes m e rec all a funny inc ident when I put m y foot well and truly in it with her father. I was travelling by train from Y ork to Liverpool jus t after Mary had s tarted here. T he c arriage was one of thos e old-fas hioned ones where three people s it fac ing eac h other. I happened to c hoos e a c arriage full of bus ines s m en on their way to work. T he c onvers ation s topped im m ediately I got in. Nuns often have that effec t on people. T hey are either terrified of us or s ee us as s oft touc hes for m oney. A nyhow, every m an s tood to offer m e his s eat but I was quite c ontent to s it on the las t s eat, in the m iddle of one s ide. T he c onvers ation res um ed but s tuc k to trivial topic s like the weather and the am ount of traffic on the roads . T he m an I was fac ing looked very fam iliar, m uc h like Mr Ryan, Mary's father. He s eem ed to rec ognis e m e, too, bec aus e he kept s m iling. A fter a while I thought I had better s ay s om ething s o I leaned towards him and s aid, "I have an idea you're the father of one of m y c hildren." W ell, you c ould have c ut the atm os phere with a knife.' T he afternoon vis it to T arnc liffe P rim ary S c hool was to s ee a probationary teac her. During their firs t year in the profes s ion, teac hers are c arefully as s es s ed and m onitored and have to pas s a period of induc tion. P art of m y brief was to vis it newly-qualified teac hers in the c ounty a num ber of tim es during the year, obs erve them teac h and exam ine their les s on plans , s c hem es of work and rec ord keeping. If everything was deem ed s atis fac tory they pas s ed. If not, the teac her c ould be referred for another year, or failed. T arnc liffe P rim ary S c hool was tuc ked between the village s hop and the grey bric k P rim itive Methodis t c hapel and didn't res em ble a s c hool at all. From the pavem ent, the door opened direc tly onto one large c las s room and c urious pas s ers -by would often peer through the leaded windows to obs erve the pupils at work. On one oc c as ion an elderly c ouple had walked in, thinking it was a c afe, in s earc h of a pot of tea for two and a toas ted teac ake. T he headteac her, Mis s Drayton, was one of thos e perm anently optim is tic and c heerful people whom nothing and no one s eem ed to dis hearten or dis c ourage. S he was a totally dedic ated teac her who ran an exc ellent s c hool. Her form er as s is tant, Mrs S tandis h, had retired the previous term and a new m em ber of s taff, Mr Hornc hurc h, had been appointed. My vis it that afternoon was to as s es s the new teac her's c om petenc y. P rior to m eeting Mr Hornc hurc h and obs erving his teac hing, I s at with Mis s Drayton in her s m all offic e to dis c us s his progres s . 'W ell, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid, s m iling, 'I've either got s om eone who will turn out to be brilliant or s om eone who will be a m ills tone about m y nec k. I knew it would be a bit of a ris k when we m ade the appointm ent but Mr Hornc hurc h had s om ething about him , s om ething you c ouldn't put your finger on, that c onvinc ed m e he would m ake an outs tanding teac her. He jus t s tood out from the res t who applied for the job. He's an enthus ias t for a s tart, and I like enthus ias ts bec aus e they get c hildren to be enthus ias tic . He's als o very hard working and s pends hours outs ide s c hool tim e, organis ing trips , c oac hing the football team , getting together a group to go c arol s inging and m uc h m uc h m ore. S tandards in E nglis h and m athem atic s have s oared s inc e he s tarted, and the c hildren are book-m ad.' 'He s ounds am azing,' I s aid. 'W hat's the downs ide?' 'W ell, to be perfec tly blunt, he's ec c entric . T hat's the only word for him . He's idios ync ratic , unpredic table, untidy and s om etim es infuriating. He does the m os t brilliant thing one m inute, like the projec t on as tronom y when he had the whole c las s and their parents s itting in the playground in the m iddle of the night s taring at the s tars and identifying all the c ons tellations . T hen the following week he took the c hildren on a s c hool trip to the W ildlife Centre at W lllowbank and failed to notic e one c hild c lim bing into the pond area. A fter the c hild had got hom e and had his tea, he had been s ent ups tairs to get ready for bed. His m other dis c overed him s itting in the bath, s urrounded by bubble s uds , with a baby penguin paddling away m errily in there with him .' S om ething told m e that Mis s Drayton rather adm ired Mr Hornc hurc h's idios ync ras ies , and relis hed rec ounting them . 'Y es , indeed,' s he c ontinued, 'I s hall be very interes ted in your as s es s m ent of him .' Dividing the one large room was a wooden partition with the infants , in the c harge of Mis s Drayton, in one half and the juniors with Mr Hornc hurc h in the other. T he infant c las s room was neat, c lean and orderly with everything in its proper plac e. W alking through into Mr Hornc hurc h's c las s room was like entering a c om pletely different world. It was like an exotic junk s hop - a m as s of c lutter and c olour. T here were boxes of every c onc eivable s hape and s ize s tac ked in a c orner, huge abs trac t art pos ters and paintings c overing the walls , piles of books , a bas ket of footballs and c ric ket equipm ent, a tres tle table full of interes tinglooking objec ts . It was like a s c ene from The Old Curios ity S hop. In the c entre of this c onfus ion was Mr Hornc hurc h, lounging bac k agains t the teac her's des k, with his pupils s itting at theirs , watc hing him intently. He was a tall, pale-fac ed m an in his early twenties , with an explos ion of wild, woolly hair and a perm anently s tartled expres s ion. 'Do c om e in, Mr P hinn, and find a c hair if you c an. T his is Mr P hinn, c hildren, and he's a s c hool ins pec tor. Here to s ee if I'm any good as a teac her. T hat's right, Mr P hinn, is n't it? S o, if he as ks you what s ort of teac her I am , you all have to tell him that I am abs olutely brilliant. Now, s itting up s traight, eyes front, everyone lis tening, pleas e.' I c lim bed over boxes and s tac ks of books , negotiated the bas ket of s ports equipm ent, and found a c hair tuc ked away in the c orner next to the tres tle table. W hile Mr Hornc hurc h was s ettling the c hildren, I had an opportunity to look at the objec ts on the table. T here were birds ' s kulls , old tins , bits of pottery, c oins , little bras s figures , c urious ly-s haped pebbles , fos s ils and s hells , faded feathers , dried flowers , rus ty keys - a fas c inating pot-pourri of objec ts . 'I've taught the c hildren s om ething about the qualities of a good s tory, Mr P hinn,' the teac her explained to m e. 'A bout the need for c lear s truc ture, a gripping opening paragraph, intriguing ending, authentic c harac teris ation, s ignific ant detail, figurative language, im agery, etc . W e've read and dis c us s ed s om e really interes ting and des c riptive extrac ts and I've now as ked them to attem pt s om ething s im ilar, s om ething really c olourful and vibrant and full of atm os phere. OK , OK , let's get on.' It s ounded to m e far too advanc ed for the c hildren in the c las s but I was in for a s urpris e. T he les s on I obs erved was one of the bes t I had ever s een. T he pupils were enc ouraged to give their opinions , and eac h c ontribution was evaluated by the teac her who c ons tantly c hallenged the c hildren to jus tify their points of view. 'How would you have felt if you had been the pers on in this s tory, Monty?' he as ked. 'W hat do you think I m eant in this s entenc e, Mandy?' 'Can you explain why this c harac ter dec ides to do this , Luc y?' T he c hildren then began writing their own s tories and the quality of the writing that I s aw as I walked round was rem arkably good. Child after c hild produc ed work of a high s tandard. One boy, who frequently c ons ulted his dic tionary before s c ribbling away, pas s ed his paper over for m e to s ee. 'W e've all been as ked to write a des c riptive paragraph in a different genre,' he explained. 'Genre?' I repeated. 'Y ou know, different varieties of writing - s c ienc e fic tion, m ys tery, adventure, his toric al. I've written a ghos t s tory.' Not only was the boy's piec e extrem ely vivid, it was als o neat and ac c urate. 'A re you really a s c hool ins pec tor?' as ked the boy when I had finis hed reading it, and had c ongratulated him . 'Y es , I am .' 'A nd are you really here to s ee if Mr Hornc hurc h is a good teac her?' I tried to evade the ques tion. 'W ell, I'm really interes ted in how well you pupils are doing.' 'B ut you have to do a report on him ?' 'I don't dis c us s teac hers with pupils ,' I explained, 'but I do report on the les s on, yes .' 'W ell he's a really good teac her and I'm not s aying that bec aus e he told us to. I didn't m uc h enjoy s c hool before this year. I never us ed to like reading and writing and now I do. I c an read better, m y m um c an now read m y writing, and m y m ental arithm etic is m iles better.' 'I'm pleas ed to hear it,' I s aid. 'T his year, we've been to c as tles and m us eum s , the fire s tation and a wildlife c entre, all s orts of interes ting plac es . S c hool was all right before Mr Hornc hurc h c am e, but now it's brilliant.' I quizzed the boy about the books he had read, his knowledge of gram m ar and punc tuation, tes ted his s pelling, as ked him what he knew about his tory and geography and about the am ount of hom ework he rec eived. He was obvious ly rec eiving a broad, balanc ed and appropriate educ ation. 'Mr Hornc hurc h is ...' He paus ed for a m om ent as if s truggling to find the right words . 'W ell, he's different, you know, not like lots of teac hers ... he's a bit... well, different, but he's really good. Do you know what I m ean?' 'Y es ,' I replied, 'I know what you m ean.' T owards the end of the afternoon Mr Hornc hurc h ins truc ted the c hildren to put away their folders , whic h they did without a m urm ur, and to s it up s traight. He then c lim bed onto his des k, c ros s ed his legs and, m uc h to m y am azem ent, proc eeded to plac e a large c ardboard box on his head whic h had been adapted to res em ble a televis ion s et. T here was a c ut away s quare (the s c reen) and various felt blobs (the knobs ). 'W ill s om eone pleas e turn m e on?' he as ked pleas antly. One of the boys c am e to the front and m ade a c lic king s ound as he 'turned him on'. 'Hello, c hildren,' began the teac her in the voic e of the s toryteller. 'W elc om e to the world of the s tory. My s tory today is about the c hild who c ould not c ry. Onc e, m any, m any years ago A long with the entire c las s , I s at c om pletely trans fixed as Mr Hornc hurc h related a c aptivating folk tale, us ing a range of ac c ents . W hen the s tory ended, the s am e boy c am e to the front and 'turned him off'. W hat was I going to s ay to this wildly ec c entric but obvious ly very talented young teac her? I thought to m ys elf. His c las s room was a m es s , the les s on plans were s c rappy, his planning virtually non-exis tent and the rec ord s ys tem of no prac tic al us e at all. A nd yet the s tandard of educ ation was high, the range of work wide and c hallenging and the quality of the teac hing quite outs tanding. 'Y ou s ee, Mr P hinn,' explained the teac her after the c hildren had filed out of the c las s room to m ake their way hom e, 'c hildren thes e days live in a televis ion c ulture. T he average eleven-year-old, you know, watc hes thirty hours of televis ion a week. W e've got to get them to read, haven't we, but m ore im portantly to enc ourage them to bec om e life-long readers and enjoy books . I find that if I pretend to be a televis ion s et, lift the text from the page s o to s peak, the c hildren lis ten better.' I was los t for words . 'S o how was m y les s on then, Mr P hinn?' he as ked. 'W ill I do?' 'B efore I give you the feedbac k on the les s on, Mr Hornc hurc h,' I began, 'perhaps you m ight rem ove the box.' W hen I arrived bac k in the offic e that afternoon, J ulie popped her head round the door and told m e Harold wanted to s ee m e as s oon as I got bac k. I knew it was going to be news about the interviews and whether I had been s hortlis ted or not. I felt terribly nervous and s pent a few m om ents unpac king m y briefc as e in order to c alm m ys elf

Harold looked up as I entered. 'A h, Gervas e, yes , do c om e in. I am glad - er, good that we have been able to find a tim e to talk. E r, have you had a good day today?' 'T hank you, yes ,' I replied. I c ould s ee by his expres s ion and tell by his unc harac teris tic fum bling for words that he was about to tell m e that I had not been put on the s hortlis t. 'I'm not on the s hortlis t, am I?' I s aid. 'I'm afraid not,' he replied. 'Oh,' was all I c ould m us ter up to s ay. 'Dr Gore will, no doubt, be having a pers onal word with you but wanted m e to break the news . T he fac t is , as Mrs S avage was at exc ruc iating pains to point out at our las t full m eeting, the c alibre of applic ant for this pos ition has been partic ularly high and all have c ons iderably m ore experienc e than you. Y ou have only been a s c hool ins pec tor a little over two years and Dr Gore and the E duc ation S ub-Com m ittee felt you needed m ore tim e in the job before you c an as pire to a s enior pos ition of this kind.' Harold rubbed the s ide of his nos e with a forefinger. 'I have to s ay, Gervas e, that I agree with them .' 'I s ee.' 'Y ou are only a relatively young m an and have a long c areer ahead. I expec t you are very dis appointed with this news but your tim e will c om e. I really feel you have a field m ars hal's baton in your knaps ac k.' 'T hanks , Harold,' I s aid quietly. 'I thought it was a bit of a long s hot when I s ent in the applic ation. I s uppos e, deep down, I knew I'd have little c hanc e for the reas ons you've jus t given. I jus t felt it was worth a try.' 'A s I'm s ure you know,' c ontinued Harold, 'Dr Gore values your work highly, as I do, s o don't be too downhearted. If I m ay be quite blunt, we often learn m ore from our failures than from our s uc c es s es . T he other point you s hould know is that the S ub-Com m ittee felt that the ins pec torate would benefit from an outs ide appointm ent.' 'I s ee.' 'T o be frank, Gervas e - and this is m y pers onal opinion - I think you will have quite enough on this year what with your wedding and s etting up a new hom e, without having to m anage the team whic h is not an eas y job, as well you know. T here are endles s m eetings , late nights and weekends away from hom e. Not the s ort of life-s tyle for a newly-m arried m an. I did think, when you s aid you were applying, of having a quiet word with you but dec ided not to in c as e it dis c ouraged you.' 'S o, what are the five c andidates like?' I as ked. 'Or aren't you allowed to s ay?' 'No, I'm not in a pos ition to s ay anything at this s tage. Y ou, along with the res t of the team , will be m eeting the s hortlis ted c andidates later this m onth when they c om e for interview. I won't be direc tly involved in the appointm ent this tim e. T hat will be done by Dr Gore and the S ub-Com m ittee but we will all have the opportunity of m eeting the c andidates prior to the interviews when they will be s hown around. A ll I c an tell you is that, as I s aid, the field is very good. A ll the applic ants are in s enior pos itions at the m om ent, all are well qualified and have s ubs tantial experienc e - perhaps this m ight m ake you feel a little better, knowing the c om petition you were up agains t. Don't let this get you down. Y our tim e will s urely c om e.' T hanks , Harold,' I s aid. T hen, attem pting to pus h the dis appointm ent to the bac k of m y m ind, I as ked, 'Do you have a few m ore m inutes ? T here is another m atter I wanted your advic e on.' 'Of c ours e. Fire away.' Driving bac k to the offic e that afternoon, I had realis ed I was in a c ons iderable dilem m a over what to do about young Mr Hornc hurc h. A ll the things he s hould have had in plac e were s im ply not there: c lear planning, detailed doc um entation, c areful rec ord-keeping, an orderly c las s room - and yet his res ults were well above average, his teac hing was very good, and the c hildren were m aking exc ellent progres s in their work; above all, they were all im m ens ely m otivated. Harold s at hunc hed over his des k, his head c upped in his large hands , lis tening intently as I des c ribed m y vis it to T arnc liffe S c hool. W hen I had finis hed, he s teepled his fingers in the fam iliar fas hion, and s aid, 'I've c om e ac ros s this s ort of teac her before and they are the devil's own job to deal with, but the bottom line is this . Do the c hildren in his c are get a good educ ation? I think it's as s im ple as that. A re his les s ons interes ting, c hallenging, broadly bas ed? Does he thoroughly know the s ubjec ts he teac hes , and does he develop the c hildren's knowledge, s kills and unders tanding of them ? Does he ac hieve high s tandards , have good dis c ipline, m ark c hildren's books c arefully and c ons truc tively? If he is doing all that, then he is doing m ore than m any. T he m os t im portant thing, Gervas e, as you well know, is the teac hing, not the paperwork or the neatnes s of his c las s room . E verything pales into ins ignific anc e c om pared with the quality and effec tivenes s of the teac hing. Y ou c an have the m os t effic ient, well-organis ed, m etic ulous ly tidy teac her but if he c an't teac h then he m ight as well pac k his briefc as e and go hom e.' I nodded. W ould I ever be as wis e an ins pec tor as Harold? I thought. 'Y ou s ee, Gervas e, we don't want a profes s ion of c lones . T eac hers are as different as any other profes s ionals . Look at our offic e and how different we all are. I know for a fac t that m y s uc c es s or will be very different from m e. He or s he will want to m ake c hanges , s tam p a new identity on things , highlight different priorities . I know als o that I s hall be rem em bered, affec tionately, I hope, for a few weeks and then forgotten. Life will go on. None of us is indis pens able. W e are all different and that is what m akes the world s o interes ting. Y ou and David and Geraldine m ight think at tim es that I'm a little eas y on S idney, putting up with his c om m ents , letting him c lim b on his bandwagons and ram ble on about his likes and dis likes . W ell, S idney is like your Mr Hornc hurc h. He c an be the bane of one's life unpredic table, s hort-tem pered, m erc urial, full of s c hem es and projec ts and m ad ideas - but, deep down, I know he is pas s ionate about his s ubjec t, about educ ation and about c hildren. Y ou c annot s tifle that c reativity. S idney's an enthus ias t and we need enthus ias ts in educ ation. T hat's why I put up with his c ons tant badinage, his m oods and his idios ync ras ies , bec aus e I know the c alibre of the m an and how effec tive he really is . T o c onfine and c ram p that s ort of pers onality would des troy s o m uc h good. He needs c hannelling, he requires a light touc h on the tiller, not a heavy hand on his s houlder. Had you been s uc c es s ful and taken over from m e, handling S idney would have been no eas y m atter, as m y s uc c es s or will s oon dis c over. S o I would s ay to this young m an at T arnc liffe: "Y ou are in m any ways an exc eptional teac her but you have to c onform to s om e extent. T idy up your room , plan your les s ons better s o people like us c an s ee what the pupils have been doing, keep rec ords s o parents c an s ee what progres s their c hildren are m aking, but, above all, c ontinue to be im aginative, enthus ias tic - and different."' On m y way bac k to the m ain offic e, I dec ided that no new S enior Ins pec tor c ould ever be quite as unders tanding and tolerant as Harold. I was s o deep in thought that I bum ped into a young m an c arrying a s tac k of files . He looked as if he had walked s traight out of a fas hion m agazine. 'Hi! ' he s aid. 'I'm Frank.' 'Gervas e P hinn,' I s aid. 'P leas ed to m eet you.' 'A h, Mr P hinn - you'll find the c ours e outline you wanted typing on your des k. A nything els e jus t pop in m y in-tray. S ee you later.' W ith that, he headed down the s tairs , whis tling. W hen I got bac k to the offic e, m y three c olleagues had returned from their various s c hool vis its and, pres um ably prim ed by J ulie as to m y whereabouts , were hanging around to hear m y news . 'W ell?' as ked S idney. 'No, I'm not on the s hortlis t,' I replied, s lum ping into m y c hair and s ighing. 'Oh, that's tough,' s aid Gerry, and c am e over and plac ed a hand on m y arm . 'I'm really s orry.' 'Y es , a dam n s ham e,' s aid David. 'Did Harold give a reas on?' 'Not enough experienc e,' I replied. 'W ell, that's true enough,' s aid S idney. 'Y ou've not been in the job five m inutes .' 'T hat's right,' s aid David, 'put your extens ive and s ens itive c ouns elling s kills to good us e, and m ake a m an feel better. He wants s om e s ym pathy and unders tanding, not you telling him that he s houldn't have applied in the firs t plac e.' 'In ac tual fac t, it was I who enc ouraged Gervas e to go for the job. I think he would have m ade a pretty good S enior Ins pec tor but, it has to be adm itted, he is inexperienc ed. A nyway, it's not the end of the world, is it? He m ight have c hanged had he bec om e our bos s - all s erious and dem anding and full of his own im portanc e. I'm s ure your old W els h grandm other would s ay to him if s he were here, whic h I am thankful that s he is not, that it is probably for the bes t.' 'S he would alm os t c ertainly have s aid,' David repos ted, '"If you get knoc ked to the floor, pic k yours elf up, dus t yours elf down and s tart all over again."' 'S he c ould have m ade a m int writing lyric s for Hollywood m us ic als , your old W els h grandm other,' s aid S idney. 'A h! I think I detec t a s m all s m ile on our c olleague's fac e,' he c ontinued, looking over at m e. 'Y ou know, Gervas e, life's problem s are all relative,' s aid David, taking off his s pec tac les whic h was a s ure s ign that I was going to hear one of his hom ilies . 'T ake m y friend, Owen W ynn-J ones . Highly s uc c es s ful doc tor, J P , c aptain of the golf c lub this year, pres ident of the Fettles ham Rotary Club. Got everything going for him and then he rec eives this letter from his daughter, B ronwen, who's at a top-c las s girls ' independent boarding s c hool in W ales . "Dear Daddy", s he wrote. "I think you s hould s it down before you read on." No parent wants to rec eive a letter s tarting like that, I c an tell you. "I'm pregnant," s he wrote. "In fac t, I'm expec ting twins ." Owen, of c ours e, was devas tated, c om pletely devas tated. "Do you rem em ber when I hurt m y ankle playing lac ros s e and went to hos pital," c ontinued his daughter, "and the headm is tres s wrote to s ay I had to s tay in overnight? W ell, that's when I m et S hane. He was c om ing out of the Drug Rehabilitation Unit and we got talking and I fell in love with him . It was love at firs t s ight." A nyhow, the girl goes on to tell poor old Owen that this S hane is the father of the twins , that people don't take to him bec aus e of his aggres s ive appearanc e - s haven head, fac ial tattoos and extens ive body pierc ing etc . A nd it got wors e. S he wrote that he was trying to kic k his heroin addic tion and had an im m inent c ourt appearanc e for burglary. Owen, by this tim e, was a quivering wrec k. "I want s o m uc h for you and Mum m y to m eet him before his c ourt c as e," c ontinued B ronwen, "and c om e to love him as I do, bec aus e he will probably be s ent bac k to pris on. W hat I would really like is for us to get m arried and have the rec eption at the golf c lub with all our fam ily and friends ." It c ouldn't get m uc h wors e c ould it?' s aid David, looking at eac h one of us in turn. '"I hope you s till love m e, Daddy," s he ended. "Muc h love, B ronwen." W ell, of c ours e, old Owen was near to c ollaps e at this s tage. T hen his eye c aught a s m all P T O at the bottom of the page. He turned over and found an additional s entenc e. "A ll of what I have jus t told you is c om plete and utter rubbis h," his daughter had written, "but I've failed m y exam s again and want you to get things in pers pec tive."' A s s oon as the other ins pec tors had gone hom e, I telephoned Chris tine at W innery Nook S c hool. 'I'm really quite relieved,' s he s aid. 'I think we will both have m ore than enough on our plates this year without the extra pres s ures of a new job.' 'Y es , I know, that's what you s aid before, and it's what Harold has jus t s aid.' 'Y ou're not too dis appointed, are you, darling?' 'W ell, I am a bit. I thought I m ight have got an interview at the very leas t. It's a bit of a knoc k to m y ego, is n't it? Not even c alled for interview. I jus t hope Harold's s uc c es s or is as eas y to work for and as s upportive as he's been.' 'A s you know, I'm s tuc k here this evening for a governors ' m eeting, but it s hould be finis hed by eight-thirty. W hy don't I take you out then and you c an drown your s orrows ?' A fter a m om ent, when I didn't ans wer, s he s aid, 'Gervas e, are you s till there?' 'Y es , I'm s till here.' 'S o, s hall we go for a drink?' 'Y es , all right.' 'W ell, you don't s ound all that enthus ias tic ,' s he c hided. 'Cheer up! It's not the end of the world. Inc identally, I went round to the es tate agent's at lunc htim e, and have got s om e interes ting broc hures to s how you.' 'OK .' 'Our dream c ottage m ight be am ongs t them , darling.' 'Y es , of c ours e.' 'W ith honey-c oloured s tone walls and a grey s late roof - and ros es round the door and a view ac ros s the dale.' S he was trying s o very hard to c heer m e up. 'S orry, Chris tine,' I s aid, s napping out of it. 'I m us t s ound a real m is ery guts . Of c ours e, we'll go out tonight and forget all about the job.' 'Fine, s ee you at the s c hool at about eight-thirty, then.' 'Oh, and there was s om ething els e,' I told her. 'Oh dear,' s ighed Chris tine. 'T his s ounds om inous . W hat is it?' 'I love you,' I s aid. 'A aah,' Chris tine s aid s oftly, and put down the telephone.

9 T he Lady Cavendis h High S c hool for Girls was built at the end of the las t c entury, paid for by an indus trialis t who had ac c um ulated his enorm ous wealth through the wool indus try and who wanted to leave his m ark in the world. S ir Cos m o Cavendis h, who had had little form al educ ation him s elf but had a real talent for m aking m oney, had endowed a boys ' gram m ar s c hool whic h he had nam ed after him s elf; a few years later, he had funded a girls ' high s c hool whic h took his wife's nam e. Like the boys ' s c hool, the girls ' High was a vas t over-dec orated pile with red-bric k towers and turrets , parallel rows of s ightles s m ullioned windows and dis tinc tly lac ked c harm . I was there to s pend a day with David and Gerry ins pec ting the c ore s ubjec ts of E nglis h, m athem atic s and s c ienc e. W hen Harold had notified the headm is tres s of our im pending vis it, s he had been les s than enthus ias tic , s o we were not expec ting a partic ularly warm welc om e. T he walk up to the m ain building from the vis itors ' c ar park was exc eptionally pleas ant that bright m orning in late February and I was in exc ellent s pirits . I was quic kly getting over m y dis appointm ent about the S enior Ins pec tor's pos t and was determ ined to rem ain optim is tic about the future. A fter all, in les s than two m onths Chris tine and I would be m arried. On that s unny m orning all s eem ed right with the world. T he air was fres h, the s un warm on m y fac e, the s ky vas t and blue; the alm ond trees jus t outs ide the c ar park were s pec kled with a delic ate blos s om , and I notic ed c lum ps of daffodil leaves were pus hing up through the gras s bordering the c arefully c om bed gravel path. I paus ed at the large dull-bronze s tatue of the s c hool's founder, identic al to the one whic h dom inated the entranc e to the boys ' s c hool. S ir Cos m o s tood on a large plinth, hands on hips , legs apart and c hin jutting out as if to s ay to the world: 'Now then, look at m e. I am s om ebody to be rec koned with.' T he s tatue was s o enorm ous ly vulgar that it was obvious S ir Cos m o had been a m an with a pathologic al des ire to be in the public eye and to be rem em bered. T he effec t of c om ing fac e-to-fac e with the im pos ing figure was rather dim inis hed at this partic ular m om ent, for, perc hed on the m onum ental head, was a fat pigeon pec king at a piec e of bread in its c law. T he entranc e to the s c hool, through a great arc hway s haped like a yawning m outh, was forbidding. S tone s teps ros e between baroque pillars to a heavy oak double door the s ize of whic h would not have dis grac ed a c athedral. T he rec eption area was c ool and s ilent and s m elt unpleas antly of dis infec tant, lavender floor polis h and s c hool dinners . T here s eem ed to be a great deal of wood everywhere: heavy, dark-panelled walls , a well-worn but highly polis hed woodbloc k floor, and long wooden s helves on whic h huge s ilver c ups and s hields were dis played, together with ranks of photographs of s tern headm is tres s es in blac k gowns and rows of uns m iling girls ; all thes e were s et in identic al heavy wooden fram es . A fores t m us t have fallen to furnis h the s c hool, I thought to m ys elf I pres s ed the buzzer on the rec eption des k and a m om ent later the fros ted glas s s lid bac k s lowly and I fac ed an elderly wom an with thin bloodles s lips and a fuzz of white hair. 'Good m orning. May I help you?' s he as ked. 'Good m orning,' I replied. 'My nam e is Mr P hinn and I'm from the E duc ation Offic e.' 'Is the headm is tres s expec ting you?' 'Indeed s he is ,' I replied. T he wom an ran a long finger down a regis ter before her. 'A h, yes , here you are, Mr P hinn, right at the bottom of m y lis t. W ould you take a s eat and I will tell Mis s B rons on's s ec retary you have arrived.' A m inute later I followed the s ec retary's res pec tfully hurrying foots teps along a narrow, green-tiled c orridor with its c urious ly pervas ive s m ell of dus t. A flood of white s unlight poured through a high window, s lanting in long bars ac ros s the m us ty air and onto the floor. T he wom an m ade no effort to engage m e in c onvers ation. 'It's a lovely day,' I rem arked finally. 'Y es , it is ,' s he replied, s tepping ahead purpos efully. Up a long c urving s tairc as e with highly-polis hed m ahogany banis ters and s tone s teps we went and then down another narrow, green-tiled c orridor. 'I wonder if I m ight was h m y hands ,' I s aid. S he s topped in her trac ks and turned to fac e m e. 'Y es , of c ours e,' s he replied s tiffly. 'T here's a c loakroom jus t off the c orridor here.' S he ges tured down yet another c orridor. 'I'll wait here.' T he c loakroom was jus t that, a s m all room with a row of blac k m etal pegs along the wall, two large c upboards and a was hbas in. T here was no lavatory. I em erged a m om ent later and inform ed the s ec retary, with not a little em barras s m ent, that it was a lavatory I really wanted. 'Oh,' s he s aid, rather taken abac k, 'well, if it was the lavatory you needed you s hould have s aid.' S he s hook her head and m ade a s ort of c luc king nois e. 'W e will have to return to the rec eption area. T here's only the girls ' lavatories up here.' Off s he s et again, her heels c lic king on the wooden floor. 'I do wis h people would m ake them s elves c lear,' s he s ighed as s he headed down the s tairs with m e in purs uit. Following m y ablutions and another journey through the labyrinth and up the s tairs , I was s hown into the headm is tres s 's s tudy - a large, opulent room , panelled in light oak and c arpeted and c urtained in deepes t blue. A bookc as e, whic h c overed one entire wall, was c ram m ed with dull-c overed volum es and dom inating the whole area was a huge roll-top des k, behind whic h Mis s B rons on was s itting m agis terially with her hands c las ped before her. David and Gerry were perc hed fac ing her on unc om fortable m ahogany c hairs with high arm res ts and looked like naughty c hildren in front of the headteac her for m is behaving. T here was an em pty c hair next to them . Mis s B rons on ros e to greet m e. S he was a thin, s lightly s tooped wom an with a pale indrawn fac e, narrow dark eyes and thic k iron-grey hair c ut in a bob. A volum inous blac k gown was draped around her s houlders . 'Do c om e in, Mr P hinn,' s he s aid in a very upper-c las s ac c ent. 'Good m orning,' I s aid, reac hing forward to s hake a s m all c old hand. I s m iled and nodded at David and Gerry. 'W e now have the full c om plem ent,' announc ed the headm is tres s . 'I am not s ure what the c ollec tive noun is for s c hool ins pec tors . P erhaps you, as the E nglis h s pec ialis t, m ight enlighten m e, Mr P hinn. A "threat" of ins pec tors , m aybe?' S he gave m e a watery s m ile, revealing a rem arkably fine s et of even teeth. 'W ould you like to have a s eat and we c an talk about the day, briefly I s hould s ay, bec aus e I have to take the m orning as s em bly in ten m inutes or s o.' 'I was jus t explaining to Mis s B rons on before you arrived, Mr P hinn,' s aid David, 'that we are hoping to obs erve a range of les s ons in the c ours e of the day, evaluate the teac hing, look at the s tudents ' books and folders and pres ent a c om bined written report to reac h the s c hool within the next few days .' Mis s B rons on lis tened to him with a kind of half-am us ed detac hm ent before leaning forward and res ponding. 'A nd I was endeavouring to enquire of Mr P ritc hard what exac tly is the purpos e of this vis it. Y ou are aware, Mr P hinn, as I am s ure your two c olleagues are as well, that we ac hieve the very bes t res ults in the c ounty and we have done s o for a num ber of years . Indeed, we are one of the m os t ac adem ic ally s uc c es s ful s c hools nationally and there is a ridic ulous ly long waiting lis t of gels wis hing to c om e here. Ninety-nine per c ent pas s rate las t year. T wenty-four gels went up to Oxford or Cam bridge and the great m ajority of the res t went on to higher educ ation els ewhere. W e beat all the loc al independent s c hools into a c oc ked hat and are quietly c onfident that this perform anc e will be replic ated this c om ing s um m er.' 'Y es , indeed, Mis s B rons on, I am fully aware of the exc ellent res ults ,' I s aid. 'A nd as I was als o explaining to your c olleagues , Mr P hinn,' s he c ontinued, giving a s igh whic h expres s ed both im patienc e and am us em ent, 'when the gels s tart here, they get a good grinding -' 'I'm s orry?' I s aid, s tartled. 'W e give the gels a good grinding.' 'A h yes , a good grounding,' I repeated, trying to keep a s traight fac e. 'T hat's what I s aid, a good grinding in the bas ic s and then we develop their abilities and aptitudes , enabling them to reac h their full potential. Gels are s ent to this s c hool in order that, by dint of our s olid and rigorous teac hing, by dis c ipline of m ind and body, by the exam ple and uns tinting s upport of m y s taff, they m ay develop into the very bes t type of wom an: c onfident, independent, s trong-m inded, hones t and fair. B ec aus e of our reputation and our outs tanding res ults , I think it would be reas onable to extrapolate that the teac hing is of the very bes t at this s c hool. T he parents are highly s atis fied with the c alibre of m y teac hing s taff, the governors are m ore than happy and the gels , I am s ure you will dis c over, find their les s ons both c hallenging and interes ting.' A s haft of s unlight fell ac ros s her pale fac e and gave it the appearanc e of wax. 'It is im portant, don't you think, Mis s B rons on,' s aid Gerry, 'to have an outs ide, objec tive view of things - an external audit if you like - to s ee how things are going?' T he headm is tres s looked pens ive but did not reply. Gerry c ontinued, 'W e are in a pos ition, s inc e we vis it m any s c hools and obs erve a great deal of good prac tic e, to advis e and s upport teac hers and help them im prove their teac hing.' T he headm is tres s 's expres s ion rem ained one of detac hed interes t, like that of a c onnois s eur glanc ing down an unfam iliar wine lis t. 'I have to be hones t, Dr Mullarkey,' s he replied in her quietly c om m anding voic e, 'and I s ay this without, I hope, giving any offenc e, I really do feel that s c hool ins pec tors would be m ore us efully em ployed vis iting failing s c hools and giving the benefit of their advic e and s upport to the unfortunate teac hers who have to s truggle with rec alc itrant and dis affec ted adoles c ents , ins tead of s pending their tim e telling m e s om ething whic h I'm s ure I already know.' 'It is pos s ible, Mis s B rons on,' I s aid, 'that the girls here s uc c eed in s pite of les s than s atis fac tory teac hing.' T he headm is tres s s lowly trans ferred her s tare from Gerry to m e. S he looked m e full in the fac e, not angrily but with an intens e and overpowering gaze. 'Les s than s atis fac tory teac hing?' s he s aid in her quiet, c ontrolled tone of voic e. 'B y that, I im agine you m ean poor teac hing. I think if you were to s ay to m y Chairm an of Governors that there is poor teac hing at Lady Cavendis h's , Mr P hinn, it would have a s im ilar effec t as announc ing that God did not exis t in s ixteenth-c entury S pain.' 'I am not for one m inute s ugges ting that there is poor teac hing at this s c hool, Mis s B rons on,' I s aid, s hifting uneas ily on the unyielding m ahogany c hair, 'but it is quite c onc eivable to have a weak teac her who gets exc ellent res ults bec aus e her s tudents are intelligent, m otivated and am bitious and c om e from m as s ively s upportive hom es .' Mis s B rons on s at for a m om ent in thoughtful s ilenc e and then s m iled, dis playing her s plendid s et of very white teeth. S he fixed m e with a s c eptic al look. 'Don't im agine for a m om ent that teac hing the able pupil is an eas y tas k. T he bright gel c an be as diffic ult, awkward and dem anding as any other gel, often m ore s o. S he has a s harp, enquiring m ind and often will argue and pres ent her views quite forc efully. T he bright gel does not s uffer poor teac hers gladly, I c an as s ure you of that. It is als o a popular m is c onc eption that thos e who attend a gram m ar s c hool c an be taught by c ardboard repres entations of teac hers bec aus e they are intelligent, well behaved, keen and c om m itted. P upils need to be taught whether they are of high ac adem ic ability or not.' I opened m y m outh to c ontinue the dis c us s ion but c aught David's eye and thought better of it. I gave Mis s B rons on m y fulles t and m os t c harm ing of s m iles . S he glanc ed at her wris twatc h. 'W e c ould debate this endles s ly, but tim e is getting on. A s a c ounty s c hool I am obliged to grant you entry, s o dis c us s ion of the rights and wrongs of your vis it is m erely ac adem ic . I jus t felt I ought to m ake m y views plain. I believe I lead and m anage a firs t-rate s taff of teac hers and I know their s trengths and weaknes s es intim ately. It would be a poor headteac her who did not.' Mis s B rons on s tood and c ollec ted s om e papers and the B ible whic h were on her des k. 'My s ec retary will give you eac h a program m e of les s ons for the day. P erhaps you m ight like to join m e for tea at four o'c loc k to s hare your deliberations . Now, I am taking as s em bly and I would very m uc h like you to join m e on the s tage s o I c an introduc e you to the s taff and to the gels .' W ith that, the headm is tres s s wept around the des k, her gown billowing and undulating about her ankles , and m arc hed for the door. T he s c hool hall, a vas t barn of a room , with a m oc k ham m erbeam roof, a gallery and an im pos ing s tage, was pac ked from front to bac k with girls . A ll were dres s ed im m ac ulately in identic al white blous es , bottle-green pinafore dres s es with bright yellow s as hes and thic k brown s toc kings . A round the s ides of the hall were the s entinel s taff wearing blac k gowns and s ober expres s ions . T he whole c ongregation s tood in c om plete s ilenc e as Mis s B rons on, with c ons iderable dignity, s trode down the c entral ais le, her blac k gown flapping behind her, c lim bed the s teps to the s tage and s trode purpos efully to the large wooden lec tern. Gerry, David and I followed her at a c rac king pac e, down the ais le, up the s teps and onto the s tage where we s tood, s om ewhat em barras s ed, at the s ide. 'Good m orning, s c hool,' s aid the headm is tres s in a loud, c om m anding voic e. 'Good m orning, Mis s B rons on,' the girls and s taff res ponded equally loudly. 'B efore I begin this m orning's as s em bly, gels , I s hould like to introduc e three im portant vis itors to our s c hool.' S he turned in our direc tion and ges tured with a wave of her hand. 'T his is Dr Mullarkey, Mr P ritc hard and Mr P hinn. T hey are ins pec tors .' S he paus ed for effec t. 'T hey are s c hool ins pec tors and they will be with us for the day, joining les s ons , talking to you about your work and s c rutinis ing your books , I would like them to depart...' s he paus ed, 'with a very favourable im pres s ion of the s tudents of the Lady Cavendis h High S c hool, whic h has a des erved reputation for high ac adem ic s tandards , outs tanding s porting ac hievem ents and exc ellent dram atic produc tions .' S he had to get that in, I thought to m ys elf. Mis s B rons on gave a s m ug s m ile; s he was obvious ly feeling quite pleas ed with hers elf. S he c ontinued: 'S hould the ins pec tors as k you anything, I am c ertain that you will ans wer them in your us ual c lear, c onfident and c ourteous m anner, befitting the s tudents at Lady Cavendis h's , and s hould they look los t s he paus ed again, 'I am s ure you will be able to tell them where to go.' J us t what s ort of day were we in for? I thought. 'Y ou m ay s it,' ordered the headm is tres s . T he girls , as if s om e invis ible lever had been pulled, s at in one perfec t s ync hronis ed m ovem ent. T he three of us rem ained s tanding prom inently at the edge of the s tage like s pare parts , not knowing what to do with our hands or where to look. T he eyes of the entire s c hool were foc us ed on us . 'I feel as if I'm part of s om e s c hool produc tion s tanding here,' whis pered David out of the c orner of his m outh. 'Could we get off the s tage, do you think?' B efore I c ould res pond, Mis s B rons on s huffled her papers and opened the B ible. 'Now, our as s em bly this m orning...' s he began, and then c aught s ight of the three of us s tanding like totem poles . 'Oh, I'm s orry,' s he s aid. 'Could we have three c hairs for the s c hool ins pec tors ?' Her reques t was followed im m ediately by three hearty c heers of 'Hip, hip, hooray! ' T he firs t les s on of the day I attended was with Mis s B ridges , the Head of the E nglis h Fac ulty, who was taking the fifth form for poetry. From the earlier c onvers ation with the headm is tres s , I was rather expec ting a fros ty welc om e but found the very oppos ite. Mis s B ridges , a wom an not dis s im ilar to the headteac her in looks and bearing, welc om ed m e like a long-los t friend and s hook m y hand vigorous ly as s oon I was through the door to her c las s room . 'Now, girls ,' s he s aid to the c las s with jovial earnes tnes s , 'we are very fortunate to have with us this m orning Mr P hinn, whom you will rem em ber s eeing on the s tage earlier and who is s om ething of an expert on E nglis h.' S he turned and beam ed at m e. 'It is a real pleas ure to have you with us , Mr P hinn, and we do hope that you will join in our dis c us s ions of the poem s we are s tudying.' 'Good m orning,' I s aid. 'I'll s it at the bac k, if I m ay.' 'W herever s uits you, Mr P hinn,' s aid the teac her. 'Go whither you wis h. J us t m ake yours elf c om fortable. It will be m os t interes ting, will it not, girls , to have a m ale pers pec tive on our reflec tions ?' 'Y es , Mis s B ridges ,' c horus ed the c las s . 'Now,' s aid the teac her brightly, 'Rebec c a, perhaps you c ould give Mr P hinn a prec is of what we have been doing.' A tall girl with long dark brown loc ks tied bac k neatly in a pony-tail, turned to fac e m e. 'Over the year, we have been reading and dis c us s ing the poem s in the anthology whic h we have to s tudy for our exam this c om ing J une. W e have c overed s ec tions on "Childhood", "Friends hip", "Hopes and Dream s ", "S ons and Daughters " and now we are on the final s ec tion c alled "Rem inis c enc es ".' 'T hank you, Rebec c a,' s aid Mis s B ridges . 'T ake over pleas e, Ruth.' A nother s m art young wom an turned to fac e m e. 'W e have all been as ked by Mis s B ridges to s elec t one of the poem s from the las t s ec tion and do a pres entation on it. W e have read all the poem s through in c las s and, with one or two exc eptions , we all found them very dull and dreary. Mos t of them are about death. Mis s B ridges s aid s he has s een m ore' life and laughter at a s tate funeral, didn't you, m is s ?' T he teac her gave a s m all em barras s ed s m ile. 'I s uppos e the exam iners think that s uc h poem s will enc ourage deeper s tudy and greater dis c us s ion than lighter vers e,' I hazarded. 'More to get your teeth into.' 'A m us ing poem s c an have depth and lead to interes ting dis c us s ions ,' retorted the girl. 'Don't you think?' I was rem inded of the headm is tres s 's earlier words about the s tudents having s harp, enquiring m inds and their predilec tion for arguing and pres enting their views quite forc efully. 'Y es , indeed they c an,' I c onc eded and dec ided to keep a low profile from then on. 'S o m os t of the poem s we have looked at,' c ontinued the pupil, flic king through the book on her des k, 'are pretty depres s ing. T here's "Com e not when I am dead", a really m orbid poem by A lfred, Lord T ennys on, a rather overrated poet in our opinion. T hen there's "Death of a Rec lus e" by George Darley, for whom death s eem s to be a way of life. "Lam ent for the Death of T hom as Davis " by S am uel Fergus on, an Iris h writer who s uc c eeds in lowering our s pirits to the point of s uic ide. A nd "A P ois on T ree" by W illiam B lake. Not a barrel of laughs . None of us have pic ked thes e bec aus e they were univers ally unpopular.' '"Has pic ked", Ruth. Don't forget "none" takes the s ingular,' c hided Mis s B ridges . 'S orry, m is s ,' s aid Ruth. 'A ll the poem s , with the exc eption of four, were written by m en, all of whom are dead,' s aid the girl at the next des k. 'I don't unders tand why exam iners c hoos e s uc h depres s ing writers . W hy c an't they put in s om e funny poem s , like Ruth s aid, by poets who are s till alive? P eople of our age enjoy am us ing poem s . Death is the las t thing on your m inds when you are s ixteen.' 'Y oung people have as pirations ,' s aid Mis s B ridges philos ophic ally, 'old people have m em ories . T he young have dream s , the old have vis ions . It has been ever thus .' 'Y oung people never think about death, though, Mis s B ridges ,' s aid another pupil. 'Old people think about little els e. My grandm a is forever talking about the fac t s he's well pas t her three s c ore years and ten.' 'T ell Mr P hinn, S arah, what we are doing today,' prom pted the teac her. I c ould tell that s he felt the dis c us s ion was leading us away from the point of the les s on. 'W e have all c hos en a poem that we liked and we have been as ked to learn it,' c ontinued the girl. 'W e have to s ay why we c hos e it, what we like about it, what parts we did not unders tand and then be prepared to ans wer s om e ques tions .' 'Do you feel that is a reas onable ac tivity, Mr P hinn?' as ked the teac her. 'Y es , c ertainly I do,' I replied, genuinely looking forward to what prom is ed to be a m os t interes ting les s on. S o often I s it at the bac k of a c las s room lis tening to the teac her dom inating the les s on with a very pas s ive group of pupils not c onfident enough to c hallenge a view or offer a pers onal opinion. It would be quite a c hange, I thought to m ys elf, to hear the s tudents doing the lion's s hare of the talking and, from what I had heard s o far, I im agined that they would have quite a bit to s ay. I c ould tell that thes e pupils would, as the Y orks hire s aying goes , 'not be bac kwards in c om ing forwards '. 'Now, B ethany,' s aid Mis s B ridges , 'I think it is your turn, s o if you would like to tell us all about the poem you have c hos en?' A s m all girl, s andy-haired with s auc er eyes behind green-fram ed glas s es went to the front of the room . 'W ell it's one of the m ore depres s ing ones , Mis s B ridges , I'm afraid, but I really like it. A c tually, it m ade m e c ry. It's c alled "Requies -c at" and it's s im ple and poignant, has a gentle rhythm and very effec tive rhym es . It's by Os c ar W ilde.' 'Mos t people think of Os c ar W ilde as a very flam boyant figure,' s aid the teac her, 'with his fanc y c lothes and green c arnation in his buttonhole, the author of witty plays like The Importanc e of B eing E arnes t, but he c ould write s om e very m elanc holy poem s and this is one. Off you go then, B ethany.' 'I s uppos e s om e people m ight think this poem is very s entim ental,' s aid the girl, 'but Os c ar W ilde wrote it when he was only thirteen years old, jus t after his little s is ter, Is ola, had died of a fever. S o, here goes . "Requies c at" by Os c ar W ilde.' T he girl then rec ited the poem in a s low, s oft tone of voic e, ending, a few m om ents later, with: P eac e, peac e, s he c annot hear Lyre or s onnet, A ll m y life's buried here, Heap earth upon it. T here followed an anim ated and intelligent dis c us s ion of the poem , in whic h the whole c las s joined, the teac her oc c as ionally interrupting to c larify a point, as k a probing ques tion, c hallenge a view or offer a c om m ent. S he was pos itive, enc ouraging, good hum oured and m oved the dis c us s ion along at a good pac e. T he next s tudent had pic ked an equally m elanc holy piec e of vers e, 'Requiem ' by Robert Louis S tevens on. S he rec ited it with s uperb tim ing: Under the wide and s tarry s ky, Dig the grave and let m e lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, A nd I laid m e down with a will. T his is the vers e you grave for m e: 'Here he lies where he longed to be; Hom e is the s ailor, hom e from s ea, A nd the hunter hom e from the hill.' 'A nd what do you unders tand by that line, "A nd I laid m e down with a will"?' as ked the teac her. 'A bit tric ky, that. A ny ideas ?' A very s tudious -looking young wom an at the front rais ed a hand. 'T he line is am biguous , is n't it, Mis s B ridges ?' s he s aid. 'I think I would agree there, Dais y,' s aid the teac her. 'W ould you like to hazard a gues s as to its m eaning?' 'It c ould m ean that he had a determ ination to die, an intention to give up, in a way welc om ing death after an interes ting and fulfilling life. S om e people when they get old and tired feel that they are ready to die. I rem em ber m y great-grandm other reac hed ninety jus t after m y great-grandpa had died. S he jus t los t the will to live after that, and a c ouple of weeks later died hers elf. S he told m y m other that s he was going to s ee George - that was m y grandpa's nam e - turned her fac e to the wall and jus t c los ed her eyes . S he never feared death. T here was nothing m edic ally wrong with her - s he jus t felt it was tim e for her to go. S he "laid hers elf down with a will". It m ight m ean this . It m ight, on the other hand, have a literal m eaning, that he was ac tually buried with his will, with his las t will and tes tam ent plac ed in the c offin with him . P erhaps he had a s ens e of hum our and by taking the will with him had the las t laugh on thos e hoping to inherit all his m oney.' 'It's an original s pec ulation, c ertainly, Dais y,' rem arked the teac her. 'It would m ean, Mis s B ridges ,' added the girl, 'that he died intes tate.' T he girl at the next des k to m e pulled a fac e, leaned over in m y direc tion and rem arked, 'Don't they have horrible nam es for m en's dis eas es ?' I was bus y trying to s uppres s m y laughter when I heard m y nam e m entioned and s at up s m artly like a c has tis ed s c hoolboy. 'I don't think we c an let Mr P hinn leave,' s aid Mis s B ridges with a twinkle in her dark eyes , 'without reading a poem him s elf or perhaps rec iting one he has learnt by heart. Have you a favourite

poem , Mr P hinn, one that you c ould s hare with us and tell us why you like it?' 'I do have a favourite poem ,' I replied, 'but I am afraid it's another s ad one. W hen I rec all it, I rem em ber m y old E nglis h teac her, Mis s W ainwright. It was her favourite poem and s he introduc ed us to it in the s ixth form .' A ll fac es turned in m y direc tion as I rec ited 'S he dwelt am ong th' untrodden ways ' by W ords worth. 'B eautifully s poken, Mr P hinn, if I m ay s ay s o. I wonder if s om eone told you that W ords worth is m y very favourite poet, too. I was telling the girls that good poetry is s o wonderful to read and lis ten to and write them s elves but it tends to have very bad pres s . W hen I was at s c hool it was drum m ed into our unwilling heads and we never related it to the real world. It was about elves and daffodils and written by rather ins ipid lank-haired m en in velvet jac kets , dying c ons um ptive deaths on c hais es longues . It was only when I m et a rem arkable teac her in the s ixth form , Mis s Ruddoc k, who s ounds rather like your Mis s W ainwright, Mr P hinn, that the m agic door of poetry was opened for m e. Y es , hearing W ords worth im pres s es upon us that the real world was his c onc ern and he des c ribed it m ore ac c urately and m ore powerfully than m os t other poets .' Mis s B ridges glanc ed at her watc h. 'W ell, we near the end of our les s on, s o I need to give you s om e notes to add to thos e of your own and s et the hom ework. One thing that c om es through very c learly in all thes e poem s , for m e, is the need for thes e poets to tell thos e who c om e afterwards about a m uc h-loved pers on, whether it be little Is ola with her "bright golden hair" or Luc y "whom there were none to prais e". T hey have in a s ens e im m ortalis ed them . T hey will live forever and be read about for m any years to c om e.' S he paus ed for a m om ent and then s aid rather wis tfully, 'I s uppos e, in one s ens e, we all would like to be rem em bered.' Lis tening to that dim inutive wom an in the long brown s kirt and white blous e that bright February m orning with the s unlight s tream ing though the s m all window, I was bac k in the c las s room of m y own E nglis h teac her, rem em bering her warm th, intelligenc e and c om m itm ent. It had been m y unques tionable good fortune to have been taught by Mis s W ainwright, I thought to m ys elf, to have had m y m ind s tretc hed, m y as pirations rais ed and m y love of poetry developed. In thinking of her at that m om ent and rec alling all the things s he did for m e, s he was in a s ens e in that c las s room with us . For the rem ainder of the day I watc hed one exc ellent E nglis h les s on after another. I s aw S hakes peare ac ted with c onfidenc e and vitality by the younger pupils , I lis tened with rapt interes t as the third form pupils debated the pros and c ons of fox-hunting - and, c ons idering the c ountrys ide whic h lay not far from the s c hool, was n't at all s urpris ed when the pro lobby won by a large m argin - and I joined in a lively dis c us s ion with the s ixth form on c hanges in the E nglis h language. J us t before the end of the s c hool day, I vis ited the library to ins pec t the range of books there. T he wood-panelled room , with c os y alc oves where the older s tudents were working quietly, was c ram m ed with tom es from floor to c eiling. 'May I as k what you are doing?' I as ked three girls alm os t hidden behind a tower of books . 'Y es , of c ours e,' one of the s tudents replied. S he was a round, jolly-looking girl with c urly red hair. 'Y ou're the ins pec tor, aren't you?' 'I am indeed,' I replied. 'W e're working on an 'A ' level his tory es s ay about Marie A ntoinette,' the s tudent told m e. 'I don't know whether you know anything about her?' 'Not a great deal,' I adm itted. 'Only that s he was reputed to have s aid, when s he heard the people were without bread, "Let them eat c ake." S he was quite a c ruel wom an by the s ound of her.' 'I think s he has been m is judged,' the girl inform ed m e, s m iling. 'It's rather s ad to be rem em bered for that c om m ent whic h s he probably never s aid anyway. W e have been reading her las t letter to her s is ter, E lizabeth, jus t before her exec ution and it paints a very different pic ture. It tells of s om eone who was very brave, res igned to her fate, a loving m other. Y ou know, I think that at the end s he ac hieves true greatnes s . Her life c hanged overnight from inc redible luxury and power to poverty and degradation. I s uppos e it was far wors e for her to be loc ked up away from her c hildren, without food, water or c lean c lothes bec aus e s he had had s o m uc h.' 'I never knew s he was im pris oned,' I s aid. 'I thought s he went to the guillotine with her hus band.' 'No, no, they hum iliated her firs t, loc ked her up, m oc ked her, treated her dreadfully but s he was proud and c ourageous , right to the end when s he c lim bed the s teps to the guillotine. S he was paraded through the s treets of P aris in a c art to be beheaded - a quite pathetic figure in a dirty s tarc hed bonnet with a s haven head and red c heeks .' 'W hat does s he s ay in the letter?' I as ked, intrigued. 'S he is writing to her s is ter, as king her to take c are of her c hildren, pleading with her to rem ind her s on to always rem em ber their father's las t words about not s eeking to avenge their deaths . S he c om es ac ros s s o unlike the c allous wom an who was s uppos ed to have s aid, "Let them eat c ake." A s I s aid, I s us pec t s he never s aid that anyway. T he m ain them es in the letter, and it's true for all the other aris toc rats in pris on waiting to be exec uted, are c onc ern for her fam ily, as king forgivenes s from God for pas t s ins and pleas for her not to be forgotten.' 'Y ou like his tory, don't you?' 'Y es ,' replied the girl. 'I think it's bec aus e Mis s J ohns on, our teac her, brings it to life. W e learn not jus t about people's lives but about their feelings , thoughts , m otives , often through what they wrote.' 'S o what is the point of s tudying his tory, would you s ay?' 'T hey s ay the bes t way of predic ting the future is to s tudy the pas t.' 'A nd what les s ons do you think we learn from his tory?' I as ked. 'T hat people haven't c hanged,' the girl replied without a s ec ond thought. 'A nd what about the s c hool? Do you feel you are rec eiving a good educ ation?' 'It's a brilliant s c hool,' replied the girl s im ply. 'I'm s ure you've dis c overed that today.' Mis s B rons on s at behind her large roll-top des k with David, Gerry and m ys elf fac ing her on the hard c hairs . W e m us t have looked like the three m onkeys - hear no evil, s ee no evil, s peak no evil. It was four o'c loc k and we were there to give the headm is tres s the benefit of our 'deliberations '. 'W ell, Mis s B rons on,' David began, peering through his s pec tac les at his s m all blac k notebook, 'in s um m ary, the m athem atic s fac ulty is highly s uc c es s ful, ac hieves exc ellent res ults and c overs the exam ination s yllabus es well. T here is a need for m ore up-to-date text books and the room s are s om ewhat drab but generally things are in a very good s tate.' 'A nd the teac hing?' enquired the headm is tres s . 'E xc ellent,' replied David s im ply. 'T he s c ienc e fac ulty, too, is highly s uc c es s ful and ac hieves firs t-rate res ults ,' s aid Gerry. 'It is well m anaged and the teac hers work well as a team . T here is , however, a need for extra res ourc es , partic ularly on the tec hnology s ide and the laboratories need s om e m odernis ation.' 'A nd the teac hing?' enquired the headm is tres s again. 'E xc ellent,' s aid Gerry. 'T he E nglis h fac ulty is als o highly s uc c es s ful and ac hieves very good res ults ,' I s aid. I s aw the c orner of the headm is tres s 's m outh twis t into a s light s m ile. 'A nd before you enquire, Mis s B rons on, the teac hing is als o exc ellent.' 'W ell, that is all very reas s uring. T he s taff, from what I have heard, tell m e that you have been m os t pleas ant and profes s ional and the gels , I gather, have found you friendly and interes ted. I am s ure there are areas whic h we need to im prove - one always s trives to be even better - and I look forward to rec eiving your full and detailed written reports . I c annot guarantee that your rec om m endations , if they involve a deal of m oney, c an be im plem ented but we s hall c ertainly c ons ider them . Of c ours e, if the c ounty were able to financ e new m athem atic s text books and extra res ourc es in s c ienc e...' S he left the s entenc e unfinis hed and s howed her s et of m agnific ent white teeth. On m y way down the path to the c ar park a s hort while later, I paus ed for a m om ent beneath the towering s tatue of S ir Cos m o. T he fat pigeon I had obs erved earlier on the m onum ental head pec king at a piec e of bread, now had a m ate. T he two birds s at gently c ooing and preening on the s houlders of the im pos ing figure. P oor S ir Cos m o, he looked rather m ore of a pigeon fanc ier or a c irc us perform er than a powerful m agnate. A s I looked up at him , I thought of Mis s B ridges ' words : 'I s uppos e, in one s ens e, we all would like to be rem em bered.' Mis s W ainwright and Mis s B ridges m ight not have had poem s written about them or s tatues erec ted in their m em ory, but they would live on in the hearts and the m inds of thos e whom they had taught.

10 W hen the c all arrived from Mrs S avage s um m oning m e to Dr Gore's offic e, I had a s hrewd idea what the m eeting would be about. Following m y c onvers ation with Harold c onc erning the appointm ent of the new S enior Ins pec tor, I had rather expec ted to be c alled to s ee the Chief E duc ation Offic er but it had been s o long in c om ing I had begun to think that it would never happen. Mrs S avage got up from behind her large c om puter-c overed des k as I entered her dom ain. S he was wearing another expens ive outfit in reds and greens , was liberally bedec ked in an as s ortm ent of heavy jewellery and her hair was gathered up on top of her head in c arefully arranged c urls , held in plac e by a m etal c om b. S he looked pos itively biblic al. 'Good m orning, Mr P hinn. Dr Gore is expec ting you,' s he s aid, and c ros s ed the room to open the door into the CE O's offic e. S he ges tured m e to enter Dr Gore's large offic e with the great glas s -fronted bookc as e full of leather-bound tom es , c om fortable c hairs and the direc tor's huge m ahogany des k. 'Com e along in, Gervas e,' s aid the CE O. Mrs S avage s tood bac k but rem ained in the room , looking expec tantly at Dr Gore. 'T hat will be all, B renda, thank you,' s aid the CE O. 'A nd I don't wis h to be dis turbed.' 'W hat about the telephone c all you are expec ting from Counc illor P eters on?' enquired Mrs S avage. 'If he c alls , tell him I s hall ring him later.' 'A nd rem em ber you m us t get in touc h with Lord Marric k regarding tom orrow's interviews . I did s ay that you would --' T he CE O c ut her s hort. 'B renda,' he s aid s lowly and dis tinc tly as if s peaking to a naughty c hild, 'I do not want to be dis turbed.' 'V ery well,' s aid Mrs S avage, s weeping out of the room with a s wirl of m ultic oloured s ilk and a jangle of jewellery. Dr Gore waited until the door was c los ed before c onfiding, 'S he is very well m eaning but s om etim es a trifle overzealous .' I c ould think of m any words to des c ribe Mrs S avage, I thought to m ys elf, but 'well m eaning' did not readily s pring to m ind. 'Do s it down, Gervas e.' T he CE O s m iled a rather unnerving, thin-lipped s m ile and s tared intently at m e for a m om ent over the top of his gold-fram ed s pec tac les . I s huffled nervous ly in m y c hair. 'T hank you for c om ing to s ee m e. Firs t of all, how is Mis s B entley? W hat an ideal c ouple you will m ake. W hen is the happy day?' 'Chris tine is well, thank you,' I replied, 'and our wedding is on A pril 15th.' 'Good, good,' he m urm ured. 'Nothing nic er than a s pring wedding. Not long to go now.' 'No,' I replied, wis hing he would get to the point. 'A nd have you got yours elves fixed up with a hous e yet?' 'No, not yet. W e've s een a c ottage in Hawks rill but I think it's a bit out of our pric e range. It c om es up for auc tion s oon but I fear it will go for far m ore than the as king pric e.' 'W ell, you never know. Nic e part of the world up there. V ery pic tures que.' 'Y es , it's very pleas ant.' P olite c onvers ation over with, the CE O leaned forward, s teepled his long fingers and res ted his elbows on the des k. 'Now, I have as ked you to pop in bec aus e there is s om ething I would like to talk to you about.' 'Y es ,' I replied, 'I had an idea you m ight.' 'T om orrow, Dr Y eats 's s uc c es s or will be appointed and I wanted to have a word with you about your uns uc c es s ful applic ation. I intended s peaking to you before now but life is s o frenetic , is n't it, and we have all been s o very bus y, haven't we? However, I know that Dr Y eats has had a word with you.' 'Y es , he has ,' I replied. 'I am s ure that you m us t be very dis appointed but, you know, both Dr Y eats and I feel it was a little s oon for you to put in for s uc h a pos t. W e both feel that you lac k the nec es s ary experienc e and expertis e at pres ent to take on the role of team leader. In tim e, I have no doubt you will bec om e a s enior ins pec tor and, s hould a vac anc y aris e in a few years ' tim e, I would m os t c ertainly welc om e an applic ation.' 'I s ee,' I replied. 'W ell, thank you for explaining things , Dr Gore. I am very grateful.' I really did not want to go over m y uns uc c es s ful applic ation yet again. I had had pos t-m ortem s with Chris tine and Harold and S idney and David and m y parents and c ountles s others who had heard the news . I heartily wis hed I had lis tened to Chris tine in the firs t plac e and not put in for the wretc hed job. I jus t wanted to get on with m y life and put the whole s orry bus ines s behind m e. 'P erhaps it would have been s ens ible if you had had a word W ith m e before you s ubm itted an applic ation, I would like to think I am approac hable enough for that.' 'Y es , of c ours e you are,' I replied, wis hing that the interview would reac h a s peedy c onc lus ion. Dr Gore s troked his c hin and leaned further bac k in his c hair. 'I want s taff in the E duc ation Departm ent to feel they c an c om e and talk to m e at any tim e. T hat if they ever want to have a little c hat about anything, anything at all, they know where I am .' 'Y es , I apprec iate that, Dr Gore.' W hen would either of us , I thought, bearing in m ind the 'frenetic ' and 'bus y' lives we both led, have the tim e for 'a little c hat'? A part from anything, there was the s m all m atter of getting pas t Mrs S avage without an appointm ent; it would be harder than getting pas t a s c rap-yard Rottweiler. 'Y ou s ee, Gervas e, I don't want people to think I'm this rem ote figure up here in m y ivory tower, out of touc h with people. I want everyone in the E duc ation Departm ent, this team of ours - and that's what I think we are, a team working together with a s hared vis ion and c ore values - to feel that they c an s hare their ideas , c onc erns and as pirations with m e and that their c ontributions are valued. T hat is what good leaders hip and m anagem ent is all about.' I s m iled to m ys elf. Dr Gore had c learly been on a m anagem ent c ours e in the not-too-dis tant pas t. 'S o, if in future there are things you want to dis c us s , well, m y offic e has an open door.' 'T hank you, Dr Gore,' I s aid, 'I'll rem em ber that.' I prayed that this would be the end of his hom ily. 'Good, good,' he s aid, s m iling like a hungry vam pire about to s ink its teeth into a helples s vic tim . 'Y ou will apprec iate als o that we do need s om e fres h blood.' 'I'm s orry?' 'W e need s om eone to take us forward, m eet the c ons tant c hallenges fac ing us in educ ation and m anage a talented, if rather unus ual and s om etim es a little pric kly, team of s c hool ins pec tors . S o, I hope you are not too dis appointed with our dec is ion not to c all you for interview and unders tand the reas ons for rejec ting your applic ation.' 'No, not at all. I m ean, yes . I m ean, no, I'm not too devas tated and, yes , I unders tand your dec is ion.' 'Good, good,' he m urm ured. I got up to go, des perate to get out of the offic e, but he c ontinued: 'Now, there is another m atter with whic h I hope you are in a pos ition to help out.' I s at down again. I jus t knew what was c om ing next. I c ould tell by the way he s m iled, s teepled his fingers again and s tared over his glas s es . 'Now, Gervas e, I have a little job for you.' T he interviews for the S enior Ins pec tor pos t were held the following day. A ll the ins pec tors were in early and gathered in the larger offic e for a c up of c offee. Harold was looking very s m art in a c harc oal-grey s uit, white s hirt, highly-polis hed s hoes and c arrying a blac k, leather-c overed c lipboard. He looked as nervous as a c andidate for the job, pac ing up and down the offic e like a c aged anim al. 'Harold,' s ighed S idney, 'I would be m os t grateful if you would refrain from wandering around like a los t s oul or, if you m us t, do it in your own offic e. Y ou are putting us all on edge. A nd I wis h you would dis pens e with that ridic ulous blac k c lipboard - you look as if you are about to m eas ure s om eone up for a c offin.' Harold was c learly not taking m uc h notic e. He s topped pac ing, however, and glanc ed at his wris twatc h, rubbed his c hin and looked abs trac tedly into the m iddle dis tanc e. 'W hat tim e are the c andidates arriving, Harold?' I as ked. 'I'm s orry,' s aid Harold, 'did you s ay s om ething, Gervas e?' 'W hat tim e are the c andidates arriving?' I repeated. 'Oh, not until nine. Interviews begin at nine-thirty. I think I'll drive up to the S DC, though, to m ake s ure everything is ready.' 'B ut it's not eight o' c loc k yet,' s aid S idney. 'Connie will s till be buffing up her bras s es , s wabbing her floors , wiping her s urfac es and poking into every c onc eivable orific e with that fears om e feather dus ter of hers .' 'S om eone m ight arrive a bit early,' s aid Harold thoughtfully. 'I'd better go, jus t to be on the s afe s ide.' 'W hat are the c andidates like?' I as ked. 'W ell, it's a little diffic ult to s ay, really. Of the five up for interview, three are m en and two are wom en. A ll are very well qualified and in s enior pos itions already in the educ ational world. It's an exc ellent field.' 'W hat are they like as people though, Harold?' as ked David. 'A re they pers onable, pleas ant, c ongenial, eas y to get along with? Have they a s ens e of hum our? A re they people people or s ys tem s people?' 'I'm not ps yc hic , David,' replied Harold, c huc kling. 'I haven't m et any of them yet. I'm only going on what was on their applic ation form s whic h s eem ed to m e to be firs t rate. Of c ours e, I c annot go into details c ontained in their referenc es .' 'B ut you m us t have got a feel for them ,' s aid S idney. 'A gut reac tion.' 'Look, I am not on the interview panel, s o it is irrelevant what I think or feel. My func tion today is m erely to m ake s ure things go s m oothly. I'm not direc tly involved.' 'Y ou were when I was interviewed,' obs erved Gerry. 'A h, yes , but bec aus e this is for m y replac em ent, Dr Gore feels that it would not be appropriate for m e to attend. He has c ons ulted m e, of c ours e, and I had a s ay in the s hortlis ting. T he full E duc ation S ub-Com m ittee will be pres ent at the interviews s o I think there are quite enough people involved.' 'W ill they have to go through what I had to endure?' as ked Gerry. 'T he form al pres entation, interviews , s oc iom etric , ps yc hologic al and pers onality tes ts , inform al c onvers ations with all s orts of people? It really was a nightm are.' 'Y es , they will, I'm afraid. It is a long and rigorous proc es s but we do want to get the bes t pers on for the pos t, don't we?' Harold glanc ed s elf-c ons c ious ly in m y direc tion and c oloured a little before c ontinuing. 'Now, I hope that you will all be at the S DC at about five-thirty when we s hould know who m y s uc c es s or is and you will have the opportunity of m eeting him or her.' I had an early appointm ent s om e way away s o I walked with Harold to the c ars . 'It will be s trange not having you around,' I s aid. 'I hope your s uc c es s or will be as helpful and s upportive as you have been.' 'Oh, I'm s ure he or s he will be. Did Dr Gore have a word with you, by the way?' 'Y es , he did,' I replied, rec alling the c onvers ation I had had with the CE O the previous day and wondering if the new S enior Ins pec tor would be s om eone with whom we c ould 's hare our ideas , c onc erns and as pirations '. A s I s trolled with Harold ac ros s the form al gardens in front of County Hall I had a feeling that things would not be quite as happy in the offic e when he had retired. I would find out s oon enough whether m y prem onition would turn out to be true or not. I arrived at the S taff Developm ent Centre a little after five to find Connie and Mrs S avage outs ide the kitc hen in heated c onvers ation. Connie, attired in her us ual bright pink overall and with arm s folded tightly over her c hes t, was fac ing her advers ary with an expres s ion of dis tas te. Mrs S avage was wearing a m agnific ent s c arlet dres s into whic h s he looked as if s he had been poured. T he as s ortm ent of heavy s ilver jewellery whic h was draped everywhere was jangling as us ual. T he pink and s c arlet duo c las hed horribly, as , obvious ly, did their opinions . 'Look,' Connie was s aying, 'I knoc k off at five o'c loc k. I've been here s inc e the c rac k of dawn and I don't get paid for s topping on, pandering to the likes of all thes e c ounc illors and offic ials . I've been in and out, up and down like a fiddler's elbow all day, taking them in refres hm ents and I don't know what. T hey m us t have bladders like air balloons the tea and c offee them lot have c ons um m ated. A nd bis c uits . T hey are like gannets , the lot of them .' 'I am only as king you to provide one further tray of refres hm ents , not to lay on a running buffet for a hundred people,' s aid Mrs S avage tartly. 'It s ounds a perfec tly reas onable reques t to m e.' 'Y es , well, it m ight do to you, bec aus e you're not the one what has to do it,' retorted Connie undeterred. 'T here's all them in the interview room and then there's the c andidates waiting outs ide and now all the ins pec tors are arriving. I bought s ix bottles of gold top and four pac kets of Garibaldi bis c uits this m orning and now there's nothing, not a c rum b to be had.' Mrs S avage c aught s ight of m e approac hing. 'A h, Mr P hinn, perhaps you c an pers uade the janitor here --' 'E xc us e m e! ' s napped Connie, 'I am no janitor. I'm the Centre Caretaker.' Mrs S avage s uc ked in her breath and s c rewed up her fac e as if s he had s om ething unpleas ant in her m outh. 'I am attem pting to get the c aretaker here to provide s om e tea and bis c uits for the interview panel but s he is m os t reluc tant to do s o.' 'A nd I've jus t told her that I knoc k off at five and it's ten pas t now and there's no bis c uits or m ilk left. I have a bus to c atc h and a hom e to go to.' 'W ell, perhaps you c ould pop down to the s hops and get s om e m ilk and bis c uits before you depart,' s aid Mrs S avage. 'I'm doing no popping down to no s hops . Only plac e I'm popping to is hom e.' W ith that Connie took off her pink overall, hung it behind the kitc hen door, put on her outdoor c oat and m arc hed off down the c orridor. 'I s hall, of c ours e, be m entioning this alterc ation to Dr Gore,' s houted Mrs S avage after the departing figure. 'Y ou c an tell the Queen of T onga, for all I c are,' yelled bac k Connie without turning her head. 'I'm off hom e.' 'T he wom an is im pos s ible! ' Mrs S avage told m e with a twis t of the m outh. 'I don't intend to be s poken to like that by a c leaner. I s hall be referring the m atter to Dr Gore firs t thing in the m orning.' 'A c tually, Mrs S avage, Connie does a very good job here at the Centre.' 'T hat's as m ay be, Mr P hinn,' s aid Mrs S avage, bris tling like an angry c at, 'but that is no exc us e for s uc h outrageous ly ill-m annered behaviour.' I dec ided to c hange the s ubjec t. 'I gather that the interviews haven't finis hed yet,' I s aid. 'W ell, the interviews them s elves have,' s aid Mrs S avage, regaining her c om pos ure, 'but the panel is s till deliberating. S om e of the pres entations ran over and then one c andidate, having gone all the way through the interview and s at the various tes ts and done his pres entation, withdrew. He gave no reas on, I gather, jus t pulled out. Dr Gore was extrem ely dis c onc erted. I have never s een him quite s o angry. Now, I've got to go bac k in and tell him that there are no m ore refres hm ents .' S he waited for a reply but when it was not forthc om ing, c ontinued in a m uc h s weeter tone of voic e. 'I think it will be s om e tim e before the panel has m ade up its m ind, s o I wonder, Mr P hinn...' I knew what was c om ing next. 'I'll go and get s om e m ilk,' I s aid before s he c ould c om plete the s entenc e. 'Oh, thank you,' s he s aid. 'T hat is mos t kind of you. I would, of c ours e, go m ys elf but Dr Gore does like m e to be on hand at all tim es . He does tend to rely very heavily upon m e.' T here was an enigm atic s m ile playing on her lips . 'Oh, and s om e bis c uits , too - c hoc olate diges tive, I think. T he ones the c aretaker provided tas ted like c ardboard.' Connie was waiting at the bus s top when I drove out of the Centre. I pulled into the kerb. 'Com e on, get in, Connie, I'll give you a lift.' S he c lim bed in next to m e. 'T hanks , Mr P hinn, you're a real gentlem an. B ut don't take m e hom e, I'm a fair way out of town.' S he put on the s eat belt. 'In fac t, to tell the truth, I was n't going hom e. If you c ould take m e to the High S treet, I c an walk to m y bingo from there.' 'Righto! ' I s aid, in m y bes t W inc o-s tyle. 'Y ou weren't long at the Centre. Have they pic ked s om ebody then?' 'No, I'm on a c om m is s ion to get the m ilk and bis c uits ,' I replied. 'Huh! ' s he s norted. 'W ell, I wouldn't do it. It wouldn't hurt Lady High and Mighty to get on her bike and go to the s hops . A ll s he's done all day is s wan around the Centre, on thos e high heels , in that fanc y outfit and the dynam ite earrings , looking im portant and pretending to be bus y. S he'd be overdres s ed if s he was going to the B uc kingham P alac e Garden P arty. S he wants to watc h it, walking round like s om ething out of a jeweller's window. Fall over and s he'd have diffic ulty getting up with all that m etal on her. S he's like a gram ophone rec ord whic h has got the needle s tuc k. "Oh yes , Dr Gore", "Oh no, Dr Gore." S he's about as m uc h us e as a pulled tooth, as m y father us ed to s ay.' 'I forgot to as k you, Connie,' I s aid, 'how is your father?' S he was quiet for a m om ent and s tared down at her lap. 'He died,' s he s aid quietly. 'Oh, I am s orry, Connie,' I replied. 'I didn't know.' 'W e had his funeral las t week.' 'I thought he was on the m end.' 'W ell, he'd c om e out of hos pital, s eem ed to pic k up a bit, m uc h like his old s elf, then he had another s troke, m ore s erious this tim e. He lingered for a bit but then we los t him . Mind you, he'd s tarted having c onvers ations with his brother who was killed in the war, and he thought I was m y m other at one point. I think he was los ing s om e of his fac ilities .' S he was s ilent for a m om ent, then s niffed and s hook her head. 'It was a lovely s ervic e and that young vic ar, I've got to hand it to him , was wonderful. I've not always s een eye-to-eye with him , what with his jeans and his m otorbike bloc king m y entranc e, but m y goodnes s he was good. Gave a beautiful s erm on about Dad and how he had s erved his king and c ountry and how there ought to be m ore people in the world like him . Luc y, m y little granddaughter read a poem c alled "Granddad" whic h s he wrote s pec ial and we had all his favourite hym ns : "Fight the Good Fight", "Onward Chris tian S oldiers ", "T o be a P ilgrim ". It was lovely.' 'W ell, I'm very s orry, Connie. He was a rem arkable m an, by all ac c ounts .' 'He had his m om ents , did Dad. He c ould be as s tubborn as a lim pet on a roc k but he was a m arvellous father. K ept his s ens e of hum our right up to the end. "Live in hope," he s aid, "and die in c as ualty." Oh, I will m is s him .' 'Y ou never get over los ing a parent.' 'W e had him c rem ated. W ell, it's m ore environm entally friendly, is n't it? T hat's what m y T ed s aid. I drew the line, though, at a c ardboard c offin. I wanted him to go out in s tyle. He always liked a bit of a c erem ony.' 'S o everything went off all right, then?' 'Y es , but we was worried about the c rem atorium bec aus e of what happened at m y m um 's funeral.' 'W hat happened there?' I as ked. 'W ell, it was a c ouple of winters bac k, jus t before you S tarted and, oh, it was bitter. I've never known s uc h a raw wind. T he path up to the c rem atorium was like an ic e rink. W e were s lipping and s kidding, s lithering and s liding, hanging on to eac h other for dear life. My A untie Dot nearly went full length. S he c ould have broken a leg or wors e. Y ou'd have thought they'd have put s om e as hes down, wouldn't you?' I didn't s ay anything. 'T hen the m us ic was all m ixed up. It was a right fandango. Y ou c an have m odern m us ic there, you know, at the c rem atorium . It does n't have to be religious or anything like that. W hen everything's been s aid, this little c urtain c om es ac ros s to hide the c offin, and they play s om e tune or other. S om e have quite happy ones . I rem em ber m y neighbour having "Look on the B right S ide of Life" when her hus band died. W ell, m y m other was c alled S ally and always loved Grac ie Fields . S he's a bit before your tim e. S inger from Lanc as hire, but I don't hold that agains t her. My m other us ed to love all her film s and had all her rec ords s o we thought it would be nic e for her to go out to "S ally", you know, the Grac ie Fields ' num ber, "S ally, S ally, pride of our alley, Y ou're m ore than the whole world to m e."' 'T hat's nic e,' I s aid. 'It would have been if s he'd have got it.' 'W hat happened?' 'T hey played the wrong trac k, didn't they? T he c urtains c los ed with Grac ie Fields s inging, "W is h m e luc k as you wave m e goodbye".' I had to bite m y tongue to s top m ys elf laughing. 'S o I s aid to m y T ed, I s aid, "Y ou m us t c hec k that Dad has the right tune." He loved Frank S inatra s o we thought a good exit would be Frankie s inging "I did it m y way".' 'V ery appropriate,' I s aid. 'S o I told T ed to c hec k with the m an on the tape rec order. A fter all, I didn't want Dad dis appearing to "S m oke gets in your eyes ".' T his tim e, I c ouldn't help m ys elf but luc kily was able to turn m y laughter into a s ort of s pluttery c ough. I was relieved that we reac hed the High S treet at that m om ent, and Connie as ked m e to s top. 'W ell, let m e know if there's anything I c an do, Connie,' I s aid. 'T hanks , but it's all s orted out now.' S he put her hand on the door handle but s at there for a m om ent. 'I hear you put in for Dr Y eats 's job then?' 'Y es ,' I replied. 'It'll take a big m an to fill his s hoes .' 'Y es , it will,' I agreed.

'S alt of the earth is Dr Y eats , a real gentlem an. S o, why didn't they interview you, then?' s he as ked bluntly. 'It's not really a ques tion I c an ans wer, Connie. Y ou would have to as k thos e who did the s hortlis ting. I s uppos e they thought I hadn't the experienc e.' 'I think you would have done a good job m ys elf,' s he s aid, nodding. 'T hank you, Connie, that's very kind of you.' 'Y ou m us tn't get too down. A s m y old dad s aid to m e when I failed m y eleven-plus exam ination: "W hen one door c los es , another s huts ."' S he c lim bed from the c ar, then bent for a parting piec e of advic e. 'A nd you m ake s ure you let Lady Hoity T oity m ake the tea. Mind you, s he probably does n't know the differenc e between a teapot and a bedpan.' W hen I arrived bac k at the S DC with the m ilk and bis c uits , m y three c olleagues had arrived and were s itting in the s taff lounge. 'It's not like you to be late, Gervas e,' s aid Gerry, glanc ing at the c loc k on the wall. 'It's nearly s ix.' 'I've been on an errand,' I explained. 'W e had run out of m ilk.' 'T hey're c ertainly taking their tim e,' s aid S idney. 'T hey've been rattling and prattling on all day. Y ou W ould think that by now they c ould have arrived at a dec is ion. T he trouble is , you s ee, people who s it on thes e interview panels have one thing in c om m on - too m uc h tim e on their hands and verbal diarrhoea.' 'Is n't that two?' as ked David. 'Is n't what two?' dem anded S idney. 'T wo things in c om m on: "too m uc h tim e on their hands " and "verbal diarrhoea".' S idney s ighed heavily. 'I really do des pair of people who like the s ound of their own voic es .' 'I'm s aying nothing,' I rem arked. 'A re you going to bid for the hous e in Hawks rill then, Gervas e?' as ked Gerry. 'Y es ,' I s aid, reac hing into m y briefc as e and pulling out the es tate agent's broc hure. 'S o long as we get a pos itive s urveyor's report, we will bid. It will be a c om plete was te of tim e, I'm s ure, bec aus e it is bound to go m iles beyond what we c an afford. B ut it will give us s om e prac tic e at bidding in an auc tion.' S idney pluc ked it from m y hands and read: 'A beautiful lis ted c ottage in a delightful pos ition overlooking a water-c olour lands c ape near the pic ture-pos tc ard Dales village of Hawks rill. T he ground floor partially and tas tefully m odernis ed and dec orated. T he upper floor would benefit from further attention. E ntranc e hall, c loakroom , living room , kitc hen, two bedroom s . S m all m ature garden to front, m agnific ent view ac ros s open c ountrys ide to rear.' 'S ounds lovely,' s aid Gerry. 'S ounds full of es tate agent's fanc iful language,' s aid S idney. 'Y ou have to read between the lines , Gervas e. W hen they s ay "s m all c om pac t garden to front", they m ean a window box. W hen they s ay "in need of m odernis ation", they m ean a ruin. If they s ay "would benefit from an extra bathroom ", they m ean it has an earth c los et. T his is what they really s hould have s aid about this property: "T he previous owner of P eewit Cottage, an inc ontinent herm it who s uffered from a twis ted s ens e of hum our, henc e the nam e - the bird, pewit, only having the one 'e' - let it go to rac k and ruin. T he c rum bling pile is at the end of a rough m uddy trac k, well trodden by herds of s m elly c attle and floc ks of lazy s heep. T hos e looking for a prim itive and lonely life will relis h the abs enc e of a toilet, m ains elec tric ity or gas , c entral heating and running water but there are lovely views beyond the power s tation and grain s ilos ."' 'V ery droll,' I rem arked. 'A nd "pewit" with one "e" is only a variation on the double-e s pelling. I know that bec aus e it happened to be in a c ros s word las t week. B ut don't worry, S idney, we're having a thorough s urvey,' I told him . 'I'm not in the leas t worried, dear boy. It's you and Chris tine who need to worry. Y ou never s top s helling out m oney when you buy an old hous e. Y ou want a s m art apartm ent or a m odern town hous e in Fettles ham , in walking dis tanc e of the offic e. A nyway, who's doing the s urvey? Dr Livings tone, I pres um e. It m us t be unc harted territory up there. No one would find it exc ept an intrepid explorer.' 'Oh, I wis h they would hurry up,' s ighed David. 'S om e of us have hom es to go to.' 'Go and rec onnoitre will you, Gerry,' s aid S idney, 'and get Connie to rus tle us up a c up of tea on the way bac k.' 'Connie's gone,' I told him . 'S he went nearly an hour ago.' 'A nd you c an rus tle up your own c up of tea, S idney,' s aid Gerry. 'I s hall,' s aid S idney s pringing to his feet, 'and, being s uc h a good-natured fellow, I s hall bring one bac k for m y s lothful c olleagues .' W hen he had gone David s hook his head wearily. 'I really don't know what the new S enior Ins pec tor will m ake of S idney. I hope he has a s trong c ons titution, a bizarre s ens e of hum our and the patienc e of J ob.' It was the kettle c alling the pot blac k, I thought to m ys elf. S idney returned five m inutes later with the tea. 'It looks as if they're finis hed,' he s aid c ons piratorially as he s et down the tray. 'T hey are all s tanding about looking pleas ed with them s elves and s haking hands . I think I have s een everything now. I have jus t pas s ed Mrs S avage pus hing a trolley like a tea lady down the c orridor bac k to the kitc hen. I as ked her if s he had a new job. Her fac e was a pic ture, well, not really a pic ture, m ore of a gargoyle.' 'Did you s ee who they appointed?' as ked Gerry. B efore S idney c ould res pond, the door opened and Harold breezed in rubbing his large hands together and with a great toothy s m ile on his fac e. 'Colleagues ,' he boom ed, 'm ay I introduc e you to m y s uc c es s or! T his is Mr S im on Carter.' 'W ell, I rather took to him ,' s aid S idney the next m orning in the offic e. W e were dis c us s ing the S enior Ins pec tor des ignate. 'I was very pleas antly s urpris ed with Mr S im on Carter. He s eem s a m os t am iable and pos itive s ort of c hap and he c ertainly had a lot about him . W hat is m ore, he was m os t interes ted in the work I have been doing in art and des ign. A s ked m e all about m y projec ts , c ours es and exhibitions . He was genuinely interes ted, I c ould tell.' 'Y es ,' added David, nodding. 'I have to agree for onc e, S idney. He s eem s like a good s ort. I've m et him before, of c ours e. I rec ognis ed him as s oon as he walked through the door. He was a keynote s peaker on a m athem atic s c onferenc e I attended a c ouple of years bac k - his s ubjec t is m aths , you know - and he was exc ellent, very well organis ed, knowledgeable and interes ting. He went down really well with the delegates . I think he'll be a real as s et to the team .' 'W ell, it's a great relief to know we have s om ebody reas onable,' s aid S idney, leaning bac k in his c hair and s c rutinis ing the c eiling. 'I feel a whole lot better now. It will not be the s am e, of c ours e, without Harold but life goes on and this fellow s eem s a pretty good egg.' S idney looked over in m y direc tion. 'Y ou are very quiet, Gervas e. How did you find our Mr Carter?' 'I liked him ,' I replied. 'He c ertainly s eem ed a very friendly m an, as you s ay, and keen to know all about us and, from what he s aid, he has plenty of ideas for various initiatives . I think he'll be good.' 'A nd, of c ours e,' s aid S idney m is c hievous ly, 'he's relatively young as well, intelligent, quite good-looking and he is n't m arried. P lay your c ards right, Geraldine, and you c ould be in with a c hanc e. Now, that w ould be interes ting.' Gerry grim ac ed and s hook her head. 'A nd c om pletely out of the ques tion, S idney,' s he replied. 'S o don't s tart getting any ideas . Mr Carter is definitely not m y type.' 'A nd what is your type?' as ked S idney. 'W ell, let's jus t s ay not Mr S im on Carter.' 'Do I take it you are les s than im pres s ed with our new S I?' as ked David. 'No, I am im pres s ed. He s eem ed s m ooth, good-hum oured and very pos itive about everything and everybody,' s he replied. 'He c ertainly knows the right things to s ay and how to m ake a good im pres s ion.' 'B ut you do have s om e res ervations ?' I c om m ented. 'I s hall keep an open m ind about him , Gervas e,' ans wered Gerry. 'I am a s c ientis t after all. I s hall give you m y opinion after he's been in the job for a few weeks .' 'I don't think you liked him , did you?' s aid S idney bluntly. 'Com e on, be hones t. Y ou jus t didn't like him .' 'W ell, if you want m e to be hones t, S idney,' Gerry s aid, turning to fac e him , 'no, I c an't s ay I did, T here was s om ething about Mr Carter whic h didn't quite ring true. 1 c an't put m y finger on it, but I don't think he is all that he s eem s .' 'Methinks you worry unnec es s arily, Geraldine, m y dear,' s aid S idney, looking at his watc h and s tanding to go. 'I think you will find S im on Carter will be an exc ellent s uc c es s or to Harold, and we will get on with him like a hous e on fire.' P rophetic words as it turned out.

11 'Do the m andarins at the Minis try of E duc ation, in their s ublim e wis dom ,' began the headteac her, 'apprec iate the volum e of reports , rec om m endations , national guidelines , s tatutory orders , as s es s m ent proc edures , s tatis tic al analys es , c om parative data, projec ts and initiatives and I don't know what els e, whic h appear like the plagues of E gypt on the average headteac her's des k every week? Does anyone down there in London ever c ons ider s itting down and attem pting to c o-ordinate this little lot?' S he paus ed to indic ate, with a s weep of her hand, the tower of thic k files , fat brown envelopes and bulging folders before her on the des k. 'If I had to wade m y way through this m oras s of unwieldy reports and glos s y doc um ents eac h week, I s hould s pend m y entire tim e reading and paper-s huffling to the detrim ent of educ ating the young people whic h is m y m ain c onc ern. I really think it is quite ridic ulous the am ount of paper that headteac hers and teac hers are expec ted to deal with.' I was s itting s om ewhat s ubdued before Mrs Ros e, headteac her of Crom pton S ec ondary S c hool whic h was one of the m os t 'c hallenging' s c hools in the c ounty. I felt it politic to lis ten. 'Now, as you well know, Mr P hinn,' s he c ontinued, 'we have in this s c hool s om e of the m os t diffic ult, dem anding and dis ruptive young people of any s c hool and I hones tly believe that we are trying our level bes t to educ ate them , teac h them to c o-operate, be good c itizens , apprec iate the value of working hard and ac hieving their potential, no m atter what level that is . B ut it is an uphill battle.' S he paus ed for a m om ent and looked down again at the des k piled high with papers . 'A nd now we have another m ajor national initiative, whic h I am s ure is well intentioned but is s om ething whic h will add to the pres s ures and dem ands of an already very exhaus ting and s tres s ful job. I jus t wis h all thes e adm inis trators , c ons ultants , advis ers and ins pec tors , pres ent c om pany exc epted, would let us get on with the job whic h is about teac hing.' W hen I had arrived at the s c hool earlier that m orning the las t thing I had expec ted or indeed needed after the week I had jus t had, was a long diatribe about the pres s ures and s tres s es of teac hing. I had pres s ures and s tres s es of m y own without lis tening to others ' m oans . A nd as for the plagues of E gypt, I thought to m ys elf, I felt like the E gyptian m es s enger in the produc tion of A ntony and Cleopatra whic h Chris tine and I had s een s om e m onths bac k. A s the m es s enger is beaten vic ious ly about the head by the furious queen, after he inform s her of her lover's m arriage to Oc tavia, the poor m an attem pts to tell her: 'Grac ious m adam , I that do bring the news m ade not the m atc h.' In other words - don't s hoot the m es s enger. I felt like repeating the lines to Mrs Ros e who s at regally at her des k with all the authority and bearing of the form idable E gyptian queen hers elf. I too c ould have well done without this partic ular 'little job' on top of everything I had on at the m om ent. S om eone in the Minis try of E duc ation undoubtedly had enjoyed him s elf dream ing up the 'Language and Literac y for Learning' initiative whic h Dr Gore had dum ped at m y door. E nglis h ins pec tors from s elec ted authorities were c harged with obs erving a range of les s ons and evaluating how effec tive teac hers 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. W e were als o ins truc ted to exam ine how teac hers evaluated pupils ' work. W hen I flic ked through the lengthy c om m entary about the initiative from the Minis try and read the ac c om panying letter from Mis s de la Mare, HMI, explaining the proc es s , I knew it was not going to be a 'little job' at all but m ore like half a term 's work. A ll the inform ation had c om e in one of thos e beautifully-produc ed glos s y folders to whic h Mrs Ros e had referred s o s c athingly. On the c over was a group of s m iling s tudents dres s ed in s m art blazers , pris tine white s hirts or blous es and s c hool ties , all in anim ated c onvers ation with eac h other in what appeared to m e to be the bes t-equipped library in the c ountry. B ehind them pos ed a beam ing young teac her who looked as if s he were m oonlighting from her day job as a fas hion m odel. S o while I c ould readily s ym pathis e with Mrs Ros e when s he launc hed into her tirade about this partic ular initiative, I was in no m ood to lis ten. 'W ell, Mrs Ros e,' I s aid irritably, c utting her off and s tarting to put the folders and the papers in m y briefc as e, 'perhaps this is not the bes t tim e to dis c us s the initiative.' 'T here is never a bes t tim e, Mr P hinn,' s he told m e. 'W e are up to our eyes all the tim e.' I got up to go. I was not intending to was te any m ore tim e c onvinc ing the head-teac her of the effic ac y of the projec t. 'Look,' s he s aid, her voic e now s oftening a little, 'I am the very las t pers on to dis m is s s om ething out of hand before I have given it a c hanc e, partic ularly if, in the long run, it m ight be to the benefit of the s tudents . W e need all the s upport and advic e here and this projec t m ight have a s pin off. Y ou'd better s it down and tell m e m ore about it and I will c ertainly c ons ider it.' S o I explained the initiative and how the Minis try had as ked that the s am ple s hould be taken ac ros s the board - high-ac hieving s c hools , ones where the res ults were low, large and s m all, urban and rural, gram m ar, s ec ondary m odern, c om prehens ive and s pec ial s c hools . T he head-teac her lis tened attentively as I tried to des c ribe the s c hem e, s tres s ing the advantages of taking part, es pec ially the extra funding. 'S o there it is ,' I s aid at las t. 'T ell m e, Mr P hinn,' as ked the headteac her, 'why have you as ked m e - this s c hool - to take part in this enterpris e?' 'W ell, Mrs Ros e,' I replied, s m iling wryly, 'it's bec aus e you are flexible in your thinking, dedic ated, a very good m anager and always willing to take on a c hallenge. Y ou are -' 'P leas e don't c ontinue, Mr P hinn,' s he interrupted, holding up her hand as if s topping traffic , 'or I m ight break out into hys teric al laughter. Y ou know, you ought to try your hand at s elling tim e-s hares in S pain or s ec ond-hand c ars . Now, let m e get this s traight. Y ou will s pend a day in the s c hool exam ining the written work of the s tudents in a range of s ubjec ts and a further day looking at the way the teac hers us e language in their les s ons ?' 'Y es , and I will als o be interes ted in the kind of language the s tudents us e,' I added. 'W ell, you will find, Mr P hinn,' replied Mrs Ros e, 'that a good num ber of our s tudents have a very c olourful, if s om ewhat lim ited c om m and of the E nglis h language.' 'Not that kind of language,' I told her, s m iling. 'A nd you are going to foc us on jus t one s tudent, are you?' 'T hat's right. I would like to join a boy or a girl for the day in eac h of the various s ubjec ts he or s he is s tudying and obs erve the teac hing. It's c alled pupil purs uit.' 'P upil purs uit,' repeated the headteac her, s haking her head. 'W ell, there's a thing.' 'It's the term the Minis try of E duc ation us es .' 'W hy is it, do you think, that the Minis try is s o very fond of c us todial words , phras es and m etaphors ? E duc ation is full of s uc h term s , is n't it? W e've got governors , ins pec tors , offic ers , detention, exc lus ion, s us pens ion, dis c ipline, term s , authority and, of c ours e, thos e at the Minis try, judging from the letters I rec eive, are very adept at us ing long s entenc es . A s you c an tell, Mr P hinn,' c onc luded Mrs Ros e, s m iling for the firs t tim e that m orning, 'I do s till have a s ens e of hum our.' S he tapped the folder on her des k and thought for a m om ent. 'A ll right, then, we'll give it a go.' T he following Friday I arrived at the s c hool to undertake the pupil purs uit. Crom pton S ec ondary S c hool, a s prawling, flat-roofed, grey-c oloured building built in the 1950s was s ituated in the very c entre of a large run-down es tate of red-bric k, terrac ed hous ing. It was in a deeply depres s ing part of the town and s urrounded by tall, blac kened c him neys , des erted fac tories with every window s m as hed, over-grown areas of was teland and dec aying warehous es . Nearby was a s m all litter-s trewn s hopping prec inc t where eac h prem is e had a grill on the window. Crom pton was not a happy plac e. Mrs Ros e had telephoned the previous afternoon to tell m e whic h pupil s he had s elec ted to be 'purs ued'. 'I c ouldn't dec ide between B ianc a and Dean,' s he had s aid. 'T heir attitude to life is not dis s im ilar, but Dean c an be m ore dis ruptive s o I've c hos en B ianc a. In fac t, s he and Dean are friends , s o I expec t you will be s eeing a fair bit of Dean anyway.' Mrs Ros e had as ked m e to m eet B ianc a in the library before the s tart of s c hool. S he was fifteen, a tall, m oros e-looking girl with lank hair and a long, pale, unhealthy-looking fac e and was dres s ed in an exc eptionally tight blous e, very s hort s kirt and huge platform s hoes . S he looked very different from the s tudents on the front of the glos s y folder whic h I held in m y hand. 'S o whatc ha gunna be doin', then?' s he as ked in a weary, apathetic tone of voic e whic h s he had c learly c ultivated over the years for us e when talking to adults in authority. 'I am going to be joining you for all today's les s ons ,' I explained. 'E h?' 'I s aid, I am going to be joining you for all today's les s ons . I s hall obs erve the teac hing and als o be talking to the s tudents .' 'W ha' for?' 'B ec aus e that's m y job.' 'W ho are you, then?' 'I'm a s c hool ins pec tor.' 'A wha'?' 'A s c hool ins pec tor,' I repeated. 'A nd you jus t watc h teac hers ?' 'T hat's right.' 'A nd s it in c las s room s an' that?' 'Y es .' 'Don't you have a proper job then?' I dec ided not to ans wer that. 'I am here to s ee how well the s tudents are doing in their les s ons .' 'W ell, it's dead boring,' s he told m e bluntly, s c rutinis ing a broken nail. 'I'm s ure it's not,' I replied 'Oh yeah, it is . It's like watc hing thos e really really boring televis ion program m es that you c an't turn off. I don't unders tand what t'teac hers are on about m os t of t'tim e.' S he turned her attention to another broken nail. 'S o watc ha want to watc h t'les s ons for?' 'A s I s aid, I am here to s ee how well the s tudents are doing in their les s ons . I'm going tos be lis tening to the language in the c las s room .' 'Y ou'll 'ear a lot. S om e of t'lads have m ouths like s ewers .' 'No, not that s ort of language,' I told her. A t this point, the m os t aggres s ive-looking adoles c ent I had ever s een in m y life c am e into the library. He res em bled a younger vers ion of Magwitc h, the c onvic t in the Dic kens ' novel Great E x pec tations who terrifies poor P ip in the graveyard. T he youth had a bullet-s haped, c los ely-s haven head, s everal large m etal s tuds in his ear and an expres s ion whic h would s top a c loc k. W hen he c am e c los er, I s aw that he was dec orated with a s elec tion of unus ual tattoos . On his knuc kles LOV E and HA T were s pelled out in large blue letters , on his c heeks s m all tattooed tears des c ended from an eye like thos e on the fac e of a c irc us c lown and s tretc hing from ear to ear ac ros s the full width of his nec k was a s eries of dots , between s m all tattooed s c is s ors . In the m iddle jus t above his A dam 's apple were the words CUT HE RE . I learned later that one of his friends had dec ided to try and em ulate this artis try him s elf with a needle and s om e Indian ink and us ing a m irror. He was now des tined to go through life with the word TUC em blazoned ac ros s his throat. 'W ho's 'e, then?' the youth as ked B ianc a in a deep, threatening tone of voic e. 'E h?' s he grunted, c hewing at the rem ains of the broken nail. 'Him , who is 'e?' 'Ins pec tor,' s aid the girl. 'Copper?' 'Naw, s c hool ins pec tor.' 'W hat's 'e 'ere fer?' 'E h?' 'I s aid, what's 'e 'ere fer?' 'He's following m e around for t'day.' 'T ha wants to tell s om ebody.' 'Naw, he's watc hing what gus off in t'les s ons .' 'W hat fer?' 'I dunno, as k him .' 'W ell he's not watc hing m e! ' I was being dis c us s ed as if I were not there. 'E xc us e m e,' I s aid to the boy. 'Y ou c an s peak to m e direc tly, you know. I'm not invis ible.' 'E h?' 'Y ou c an as k m e yours elf what I am doing today.' 'I know what tha doing. S he's jus t told m e and I'm telling thee, tha not watc hing m e! ' 'No, I don't intend to,' I replied. 'A nd don't thee eyeball m e, neither,' he s aid, glaring. J us t what was I in for, I thought to m ys elf, and jus t how do the teac hers c ope with the likes of this lad? 'His nam e's Dean,' B ianc a told m e, as he s huffled off, hands deep in his poc kets , 'and he fanc ies m e.' S truth! I thought. T he firs t les s on was m athem atic s . T he teac her, Mr Mc Nab, a bear of a m an with a thic k red beard, lined the c las s up outs ide his door, before explaining that he believed in firm dis c ipline and what a retrograde s tep it was when the poor m is guided powers abolis hed c orporal punis hm ent. He went on to tell m e that if he had his way he would bring in c apital punis hm ent for s om e of the pupils , never m ind c orporal punis hm ent. 'W hen I taught in Glas gow, Mr P hinn, we were gi'en a thic k leather s trap c alled a taws when we s tarted teac hing and they didna m es s aroond after getting a dos e o' that ac ros s their bac ks ides , I c an tell ye.' On eac h des k, whic h were in rows fac ing the front, had been plac ed a penc il, the end of whic h had been s lic ed away and a num ber written on the expos ed wood, a s quare of paper, a rubber (als o num bered) and a text book open at the appropriate page. 'I keep their nos es to the grinds tone here, Mr P hinn. K eep 'em bus y, I do. Gi' this lot an inc h and they'll tek a m ile. I don't enc ourage any talking in m y c las s bec aus e onc e s tarted, they willna s top. I num ber everything in the room whic h m akes it eas ier to c hec k on things whic h go m is s ing. It's the only way I c an m ake s ure I get m a penc ils and m a rubbers bac k. T his lot live by the c ode of "If it m oves , nic k it, if it does nae, kic k it." Y ou s ee, they c om e from inadequate hom es where they are allowed to get awa' wi' m urder. T hey're left to roam the s treets , watc h televis ion till all hoors , play truant, get up tae all s orts of m is c hief and m ayhem . W hat a lot of thes e lads need is s ec urity. T hat's what they want - s ec urity.' 'Y es ,' I agreed. 'Children tend to pros per from a c aring and s ec ure bac kground.' Mr Mc Nab threw bac k his head and s norted. 'W aay, not that s ort of s ec urity, m an,' he blus tered. 'I m ean m axim um s ec urity. I'd loc k the buggers up! ' T he les s on was largely a s ilent one. T he s tudents worked their way through the exerc is e in the text book with the teac her patrolling the des ks , peering over s houlders and fixing anyone who looked up with a rattles nake glare. A t the end of the les s on I ac c om panied Mr Mc Nab, who was on yard duty, into the playground where he c ontinued to enlighten m e about his educ ational philos ophy. 'Of c ours e, I've tried group work, paired work, dis c us s ion, this interac tive learning c arry-on but it jus t does nae work with this s ort of pupil. T hey know every tric k in the book. A nd they know all their rights as well. Canna lay s o m uc h as a little finger on 'em thes e days .' W hen the bell rang for the end of break Mr Mc Nab lined the pupils up and they filed into s c hool. A large boy c ontinued to s it on the wall, m aking no attem pt to go in; he jus t s at there, c hom ping away on a large c hoc olate bar. 'Y ou boy! ' s houted the teac her. 'W hat?' the boy s houted bac k, s pluttering bits of c rum b and c hoc olate in the proc es s . Mr Mc Nab c lam ped his m outh together and his eyes bec am e hard and angry. He s trode over to the wall and his loud voic e rang over the s c hool yard. 'W hen ye talk to a teac her, laddie, ya s ay "s ir"! ' 'W hat... s ir?' 'A re ya deaf?' 'No.' 'S ir! ' roared the teac her. 'No... s ir.' 'Didna you hear the bell?' 'Y eah... s ir.' 'W hat's yer nam e, laddie?' 'S ean.' 'S ean what?' 'S ir.' 'No! No! Y our s ec ond nam e, yer great pudding! ' 'A ndrew... s ir.' 'No! No! Y er other nam e.' 'Colin... s ir.' T he veins in Mr Mc Nab's forehead were now throbbing and his voic e had inc reas ed s everal dec ibels . 'Y er las t nam e! Y er s urnam e! ' 'S m ith... s ir.' 'W ell, what are ye doing s itting on the wall when the bell has gone, S m ith?' 'Having a res t... s ir.' Mr Mc Nab's voic e s uddenly bec am e low and threatening. He was as tens e as an over-wound c loc k. 'I dinna like your attitude at all, S m ith. Now, ye get up off that wall, dis pos e of that c hoc olate bar, tidy yers elf up, m ove yer body s m artly and get yers elf to yer next les s on and I'll s ee you after s c hool for a detention.' 'I c an't, s ir.' 'A nd why, pray, c anna ya?' dem anded the teac her, his eyes nearly popping from their s oc kets and his fac e as red as his hair. 'I don't go to this s c hool anym ore,' replied the boy. 'I left las t year. I work at the garage ac ros s the road, s ir. I only c am e over to give m y brother a m es s age from our m a.' I avoided m eeting Mr Mc Nab's eye as we m ade our way bac k into s c hool. T he next les s on I obs erved was c hem is try. 'E quipm ent! ' the teac her repeated with a hollow laugh, when I as ked about the various res ourc es and m aterials the s tudents would be us ing. 'Y ou m ean B uns en burners , bottles of ac id, glas s beakers ? I don't give this lot rulers , Mr P hinn, never m ind equipm ent.' During the very nois y les s on, while the tired-looking wom an in a white c oat was attem pting to explain about os m os is , a topic way beyond the pupils ' unders tanding and of no interes t to them whats oever, Dean, the heavily tattooed individual, leaned bac k on his s eat c as ually s o his fac e was level with m y own and c om m ented in a voic e loud enough to c arry, 'S he's not up to m uc h, is s he?' 'I s ugges t you keep your c lever c om m ents to yours elf,' I retorted. 'Lis ten to the teac her and be quiet! ' He s c owled and c ontinued to roc k on two legs of the c hair. T he firs t les s on of the afternoon was geography. Dean was the c entre of attention for the whole hour, talking loudly, poking the boy in front, flic king paper, m aking fatuous c om m ents and generally being a nuis anc e. B ianc a was c alm in c om paris on; s he jus t s at there with a bored look on her fac e. T he teac her, a m an with a long, wrinkled fac e of tragic potential, s eem ed to have bec om e ac c us tom ed to the nois e whic h was loud and penetrating, and appeared fully res igned to the poor behaviour of the pupils .

'T he nois e level in the room was deafening,' I told him after the les s on. 'Oh yes , I know, Mr P hinn,' he dec lared dolefully, 'but you only had to put up with it for an hour. I have this nois e all the year round.' 'T he les s on was terribly dis organis ed,' I c ontinued. 'It was , was n't it?' he agreed, nodding s lowly. 'How do you feel about the c ritic is m ?' I as ked him . 'How do I feel?' he repeated. His fac e s eem ed to expres s s om e am azem ent at the ques tion. 'How do I feel? Now, that's a ques tion and a half, is n't it? I feel like a lion tam er without a whip, if you want m e to be perfec tly frank, or a s wim m er in a pool of piranhas .' I s tared at him m utely for a m om ent. 'Is it always like this ?' 'Mos tly,' he replied, 'but I don't let it get to m e. I've got high blood pres s ure, you s ee, s o I c an't get too exc ited. I'm on m edic ation and a high fibre diet.' His fac e s uddenly brightened. 'I've got a c aravan on the c oas t, you know, and it's the only thing that keeps m e s ane. I finis h at the end of next term .' He s ighed happily. 'T hen you won't s ee m e for dus t. I'm going to open a health food s hop in Fettles ham and s pend m y days in peac eful retirem ent, s elling dried fruit, branflakes and nuts . T hes e pupils , as you have no doubt s urm is ed, Mr P hinn, have very lim ited language s kills . T hey find bas ic reading very diffic ult s o when fac ed with s om e of the exam ination ques tions they jus t c annot m ake head nor tail of them . I m ean, on las t year's paper one of the ques tions was about S c ottis h loc hs affording deep-water berthage. W ell, I as k you, how m any people c ould unders tand that? T hen there was another ques tion about an oil pipeline running ac ros s A las ka and they were as ked why the oil was n't flowing as quic kly as it did in the Middle E as t. It was all to do with tem perature but they had no idea that A las ka was c old and the Middle E as t hot. T hat's the extent of their general knowledge, yon s ee.' My res pons e c ould not have been m ore forthright. 'S urely that is your job, to teac h them ?' I res ponded. 'Ooooh, eas ier s aid than done, Mr P hinn,' he replied am iably and quite unperturbed, as if the c ritic is m were s om e s ort of c om m endation. 'I do try but I s eem to get nowhere.' 'Have the s tudents been on any geography field trips ?' I as ked, pretty s ure what the ans wer would be. 'No, no. I did take a group onc e but it was m ore trouble than it was worth. I s aid after the dis as trous trip to W hitby that I would never take a c las s on a trip to the c oas t again. T hey were up the c liffs , in the s ea, on the abbey walls , dropping litter, throwing pebbles , c has ing s eagulls . Getting them on the c oac h was like rounding up a herd of wild hors es . I was trying to c ount them when Franc ine, the big girl with the s hort hair, as ked m e if we c ould wait jus t another few m inutes bec aus e s he wanted to s ee Hipno. "Hippo, what hippo?" I as ked. "Hipno, Hipno the rapis t. He's jus t gone to get a c uppa, s aid he'd be bac k in five m inutes ," s he s aid. "W hat rapis t?" I as ked her. "He's got a booth down there," s he s aid and pointed to this big plac ard propped agains t the wall whic h announc ed in large, lurid lettering, HY P NOT HE RA P IS T . I as k you, Hypno the Rapis t! ' A t afternoon break B ianc a told m e that the final les s on of the day would be religious educ ation with Mr Griffith. T he idea of Dean and an RE c las s , the las t thing on a Friday afternoon, did not bear thinking about. 'It's a right laugh,' added the girl, exam ining yet another c hewed finger nail, before as king m e. 'Y ou 'aven't got a nail file on you, 'ave you?' T hat phras e, 'it's a right laugh', I thought to m ys elf, c ould m ean one of two things . It c ould m ean that the les s on would be generally entertaining and am us ing or, on the other hand, c om plete and utter c haos . Having s een Dean and the c las s in ac tion all day, I predic ted that it would be the latter. W hen B ianc a and I arrived at the c las s room , the s tudents were, to m y great s urpris e, lining up in an orderly fas hion. T here was no pus hing or jos tling, there was no s houting or arguing: in fac t, the nois e level for the firs t tim e that day was unus ually low. Dean, who leaned quietly agains t the wall, s eem ed to have undergone a m irac ulous trans form ation. He jus t nodded at B ianc a when s he s lipped in bes ide him . I joined the end of the line awaiting the arrival of Mr Griffith. I im agined that at any m om ent a great hairy m ountain of a m an with s houlders as broad as a barn door, the s ort who looked as if he played prop forward for W ales , would em erge from around the c orner. I was entirely m is taken, for a m inute later a dim inutive m an dres s ed in a bright and baggy orange trac k-s uit, c irc a 1950, the c rac kly nylon variety, appeared at the end of the c orridor. He was c arrying a large m ulti-c oloured m ug. Mr Griffith looked as if he had s urvived the elec tric c hair for his wild hair, whic h was the c olour and texture of wire wool, s tuc k up fantas tic ally. 'W ho is that at the bac k? Com e out! ' he roared. I s tepped forward. 'Oh! I'm very s orry. It's a s c hool ins pec tor. I thought for m om ent it was the new boy.' He m ade a s ort of flouris h with his hand. 'W e are greatly honoured this afternoon, five s et nine, to have with us s uc h an em inent vis itor. Mr Flynn, is it?' 'P hinn,' I told him . 'A h yes , P hinn, as in the s hark.' 'Y es , that's right, Mr Griffith,' I replied, thinking of the ordeal ahead of m e. 'A nd you are with us for this les s on?' 'I am .' 'W ell, you are in, Mr P hinn, for a rare treat this afternoon, a rare treat. W hat's he in for, five s et nine?' 'A rare treat! ' the c las s c horus ed. 'S tand up s traight there, Dean,' s aid the teac her, S lic e and s m art. Look tidy boy, look tidy.' Dean im m ediately did as he was told. A s s oon as I had s een at c los e quarters the m ulti-c oloured m ug that the teac her held, I knew I was in for a rather different experienc e c om pared with the other les s ons of the day, for em blazoned on the s ide were the words , 'S tic ks and s tones m ay break m y bones , but whips and c hains exc ite m e.' 'T his is m y very favourite c las s , you know, Mr P hinn,' the teac her told m e. 'T hey are a grand lot. W hat are you, five s et nine?' 'A grand lot,' the pupils c horus ed. 'Of c ours e,' Mr Griffith told m e, whis pering in m y ear, 'as the head of religious educ ation, I have an eas y tim e, c om pared with m y c olleagues in other s ubjec ts , you know.' 'A n eas y tim e?' I repeated in dis belief. 'Y es , indeed. Y ou s ee, unlike the head of the E nglis h departm ent, I only have the one s et book. Now, you c om e along in, Mr P hinn, but don't talk too fas t otherwis e they'll be up and danc ing. Now, you are with B ianc a, aren't you? W ell, s it at the bac k next to her.' My heart s ank. T hat would put m e between her and Des perate Dean. W hen the pupils had s ettled down in their s eats the teac her began the les s on. He took c entre s tage, fixed the c las s with a dram atic s tare and began. 'Now, we got up to the part las t week where P ontius P ilate had was hed his hands of J es us . W as hed his hands ! Do you know what they did then?' 'No, s ir,' c horus ed the c las s . 'Great big whip! ' Mr Griffith es tim ated the s ize of the whip by pulling his hands s lowly apart to the length of about three feet. 'T hat big, Franc ine.' 'Ooooo! ' whim pered a large girl on the front des k. Her eyes were wide in am azem ent. 'A nd they s c ourged Him with it.' T he teac her provided us all with a m os t im pres s ive and realis tic m im e of the whipping. 'Good word that, "s c ourge". I'll write it on the blac kboard.' T he teac her looked in m y direc tion. 'P ity we c an't do a bit of s c ourging in s c hools , Mr P hinn. A touc h of the old s c ourging would do Dean a power of good, wouldn't it, Dean?' 'Y es , s ir,' the boy replied with good hum our. 'Now, after they had whipped Him and hit Him and s pat at Him and kic ked Him and c alled Him nam es , do you know what they did next?' 'No, s ir,' c horus ed the c las s a s ec ond tim e. 'Great big piec e of purple rag! ' A gain the teac her dem ons trated the width. 'A nd they wrapped it around Him and laughed and jeered and s c offed and s neered and c alled Him "K ing of the J ews ".' 'A aaah! ' whim pered the large girl at the front. 'Now, after they had whipped Him and hit Him and s pat at Him and kic ked Him and c alled Him nam es and wrapped Him in this piec e of purple rag, do you know what they did next?' 'No, s ir,' c horus ed the c las s a third tim e. 'Great big c ros s ! ' Mr Griffith es tim ated the s ize of the c ros s by s tretc hing his hands heavenwards . 'T hat big, Franc ine.' 'Ooooo! ' m urm ured the girl, her hand to her m outh. 'A nd they m ade Him drag it through the s treets , all the while m oc king and c urs ing and jeering Him . S im on of Cyrene c am e out of an alleyway to help Him with the c ros s , as you would, but he was pus hed bac k by the Rom an s oldiers who m ade J es us drag the ins trum ent of His death to the Hill of S kulls .' Mr Griffith paus ed for effec t. 'Now, I'm talking here about the S on of God. T he S on of God! He c ould have c lic ked His fingers and they would have all been dus t under His s andals . He had the power in His finger to devas tate - to DE V A S T A T E - the whole world but He didn't, s ee. He let them do it. He let them hurt Him and hum iliate Him and He never rais ed a finger agains t them . Now I bet you that if s om eone did that to you, Dean, and you had that power jus t by rais ing a finger to kill the lot of them , you wouldn't jus t s tand there and take it, would you?' 'No, s ir, I'd have killed the whole lot of'em ,' replied the boy forc efully. 'T hen why didn't J es us ? W hy did He let them do all that to Him ? W hat was the point of all that s uffering? J us t think about it for a m om ent.' A s ilenc e des c ended on the c las s . 'Y ou s ee,' c ontinued the teac her after a m inute, 'not only was J es us the gentles t, m os t loving and c om pletely harm les s m an in the world, He was als o the m os t c ourageous to undergo that s uffering. Do you know what they did then?' 'No, s ir,' c horus ed the c las s . I prepared m ys elf for the grues om e ac c ount whic h would inevitably follow. 'T hey c ruc ified Him . T hey nailed Him to that c ros s and He died. A nd the s oldiers gam bled over the only things He owned - the few c lothes from His bac k - and His m other watc hed Him die a s low and painful death and His friends des erted him . His bes t friend, P eter, denied he even knew Him . T hree tim es he s aid, "I do not know this m an." A nd there hung the S on of God who had harm ed no one.' I had heard the s tory of the c ruc ifixion a thous and tim es but, on this oc c as ion, when that awes om e s ilenc e fell on the c las s , I felt m y heart begin to thum p in m y c hes t and tears pric king m y eyes . I glanc ed ac ros s at Dean. He s at, m outh open like a netted fis h, with real tears above the tattooed tears , totally c aptivated and m oved by the s addes t s tory of all tim e. 'B ut do you know what they did before they did that?' roared the teac her, m aking the whole c las s , m ys elf inc luded, jum p in our s eats . 'No, s ir,' I heard m ys elf s aying. 'T hey took a c rown of thorns - a c rown of thorns - and they ram m ed it, yes , they ram m ed it on His head.' In the deathly s ilenc e whic h greeted this , Dean turned to m e and s aid with a c url of the top lip, 'T he bas tards ! ' A t the end of the les s on, when the pupils had s et off hom e, Mr Griffith, whis tling m errily to him s elf, pac ked away his books , s traightened the c las s room and walked with m e to the s taff room . 'How did I get on then, Mr P hinn?' he as ked. I looked down at the blank page in m y notebook. 'I've not written a thing,' I replied. 'Not a thing.' 'My father was a great B aptis t preac her in W ales , you know. A fter c hapel, he valued educ ation above all els e. Of c ours e, that's a W els h c harac teris tic , you know. Lloyd George onc e s aid: "T he W els h have a pas s ion for educ ation and the E nglis h have no partic ular objec tion to it." W ell, m y father brought the B ible to life, s ee. He lifted the s ac red text off the page.' Mr Griffith s topped and gripped m y arm . 'Now, if you think this afternoon was good, well, why don't you c om e bac k at Chris tm as - I do a lovely Herod! '

12 'A re you getting all nervous , then?' J ulie as ked, plac ing a c up of c offee on m y des k. I was s orting though m y early m orning m ail in the offic e prior to s etting off for m y las t offic ial s c hool vis it of the s pring term . 'I am a bit, J ulie,' I adm itted. 'It's a big s tep, m arriage.' 'P artic ularly if you've been living on your own for s o long and us ed to a c ertain routine.' 'W ell, it's a m atter of give and take, is n't it?' I replied. 'In m y experienc e, it's the wom an who gives and the m an who takes .' 'T hat is a typic al c lic he, and not all m en are like that, J ulie,' I s aid. 'A nyway, when you get m arried you have to get us ed to all your partner's little foibles , I realis e that.' 'Little foibles ! ' exc laim ed J ulie. 'Y ou m ean dirty habits and pec uliar obs es s ions .' 'A nd what would a young wom an like you know about dirty habits and pec uliar obs es s ions ?' I as ked, laughing. 'B ec aus e I've lived with m y parents for as long as I c an rem em ber and I have two s is ters and two brothers .' J ulie s at on the c orner of m y des k. 'My s is ters , K aren and A nne, were love's young dream s until their new hus bands s tarted dropping their dirty underpants all over the plac e, c om ing in s tinking of beer, watc hing football on the televis ion into the early hours with their nois y m ates , wearing their s oc ks three days running, leaving the top off the toothpas te and the toilet s eat up, s noring like bronc hial hippopotam us es every night - jus t like m y two brothers and m y dad have done all their lives . Love s oon flies out of the window when you have to put up with that.' 'I c an't really im agine Chris tine dropping dirty underwear all over the plac e, c om ing in s tinking of beer and s noring like a bronc hial hippopotam us ,' I told her m is c hievous ly. 'I'm not talking about Chris tine,' J ulie s aid. 'I'm talking about you. Men are different from wom en.' 'Now there's an original obs ervation,' I rem arked. 'V iv e la differenc e?' 'Y ou know what I m ean. Men think differently and behave differently. For a s tart they are m ore untidy and unhygienic . T hey are m ore inc ons iderate and irritating. Now take Mr Clam p as a prim e exam ple. Can you im agine anything wors e than being m arried to him ? He'd drive anyone to drink.' 'Not at all, J ulie,' I told her. 'S idney is a happily m arried m an, his wife loves him dearly and I believe he is very attrac tive to the oppos ite s ex. W om en want to m other him .' 'S m other him , m ore like. Mr Clam p is every wom an's nightm are.' A t that very m om ent, the s ubjec t of our c onvers ation breezed in through the offic e door. He was dres s ed in a light c otton s uit, pale yellow s ilk tie and s ported a wide-brim m ed s traw hat. He looked every inc h the gentlem an about town. 'A lm os t las t day of term for us , J ulie,' he exc laim ed, 'A nd las t week of freedom for you, Gervas e.' 'Don't you s tart as well,' I told him . 'Y ou two s hould be wis hing m e well, not trying to put m e off.' 'Of c ours e we wis h you well, dear boy,' c ried S idney, putting his arm around m y s houlder. 'I am c ertain beyond doubt that the wedding will go beautifully, the rec eption s wim m ingly - you m ight even m ake a pas s able s peec h - the honeym oon blis s fully and your life with the A phrodite of W innery Nook, the drop-dead gorgeous Mis s B entley in your little love nes t -' He s topped abruptly. 'B y the way, did you get your c ottage?' S idney's as s es s m ent of P eewit Cottage had been rem arkably ac c urate. T he 'beautiful lis ted c ottage in a delightful pos ition overlooking a waterc olour lands c ape near the pic ture-pos tc ard Dales village of Hawks rill' needed a great deal of work. T he s urveyor's report had arrived a week before the auc tion. Unlike the es tate agent's des c ription, it had been far from ros y; in fac t, it m ade the property s ound as though it were on the verge of c ollaps e. T here were 'extens ive tim ber infes tations obs erved throughout the property, evidenc e of ris ing and penetrating dam p, s ignific ant deflec tions to the roof pitc hes , s erious weathering to the s tonework due to the expos ed c ondition and age, defec tive guttering, lac k of lateral brac ing between front and rear walls ' - whatever that m eant - and 'num erous other urgent repairs ' whic h required im m ediate attention. Chris tine and I were s itting in the front room of m y flat above T he Rum bling T um c afe with the greas y arom a drifting up the s tairs and the nois e of traffic in the High S treet outs ide, and were reading through page after page of problem s . Finally I threw the s urveyor's bulky report onto the table and s at bac k. I put m y arm around Chris tine who looked devas tated. 'I knew it needed work doing to it,' I s aid. 'I m ean, it's old and has n't been lived in for ages , but I didn't rec kon on all that am ount.' 'Me neither,' s he replied s adly. W e didn't s ay anything for a while. W e jus t s at there in our s ilent dis appointm ent. 'W ell,' I s aid at las t, 'I s uppos e we had better look for s om ething els e - and quic kly or we will find ours elves living in this dum p for m onths to c om e.' 'I s uppos e s o,' Chris tine replied. T here were tears in her eyes . 'It is s o s ad. It's s uc h a lovely c ottage.' 'It is ,' s he m urm ured. 'I love it from the nam e onwards . P eewit Cottage - it has s uc h a s onorous ring to it.' 'A nd a beautiful s etting.' 'Y es .' 'J us t the right s ize.' 'Mm m .' 'A nd thos e m agnific ent views . W e'll never find a view like that again.' 'Oh, don't go on, Gervas e, you're m aking it wors e. I need you to tell m e it's a dum p and it wants pulling down. T ell m e that the people who buy it will have bought a m ills tone whic h will be around their nec ks for the res t of their lives . J us t don't tell m e how beautiful it is .' A nd s he began to c ry. 'Com e on, Chris ,' I s aid, holding her c los e and wiping away her tears . 'W e'll find s om ewhere els e. I prom is e.' 'Like one of thos e s m art but oh s o predic table apartm ents or town hous es in Fettles ham whic h S idney s ugges ted? I had m y heart s et on that c ottage. I fell in love with it as s oon as I s aw it.' 'B ut jus t think of all the work needed.' 'I know,' s he s aid, s nuggling c los er. 'I know.' 'W e'd be s pending all our lives renovating it and -' 'Y ou needn't go on, darling,' s he told m e. 'I know it's im pos s ible. I know well never have it now.' Later that evening, after a s ubdued s upper, m os t of whic h we left, Chris tine s aid quietly, 'Do you rem em ber what brought us together in the firs t plac e?' 'Y our blue eyes ,' I s aid im m ediately. 'I was c aptivated by your blue eyes .' 'Y es , well, I was in fac t thinking of s om ething els e. S om ething els e blue.' 'B lue?' I s aid. 'B lue what?' 'How about a c ertain blue-and-white plate?' 'A h, ifyou'd s aid "blue-and-white",' I laughed, 'I'd have known exac tly what you m eant. B ut why bring that up now?' 'W ell, it oc c urred to m e that that plate brought us together - we were in Roper's S aleroom in Collington at an auc tion. A nd look where it led? W e c ould go to next S aturday's auc tion - we've nothing on - if only to s ee what the c ottage goes for. I m ean, we wouldn't bid or anything. J us t go out of interes t.' 'I s uppos e we c ould,' I replied. 'I m ean, it's s ure to be out of our pric e range anyway.' 'T hat's true,' I s aid and, rem em bering the oc c as ion when Chris tine left m e to bid for the blue-and-white plate on her behalf, added, 'W e c ould go, for old tim es ' s ake.' 'It c an't do any harm s eeing what it fetc hes .' S o at twelve noon the following S aturday, Chris tine and I s at nervous ly on hard s tac kable c hairs in the bac k row in Hawks rill V illage Hall for the auc tion of P eewit Cottage. T he es tate agent, a round, jovial m an with a s hoc k of s ilver-white hair, a paunc h of m ountainous proportions and a nos e like a hatc het, c ons ulted his heavy s ilver poc ket watc h and banged his gavel on the table. 'Good day, all,' he s aid. 'My nam e is W es ley Harper of Harper, Read and Harper, A uc tioneers , V aluers and E s tate A gents of Fettles ham . On m y right is the vendor's s olic itor, Mrs S onia S tac kpole.' He ges tured in the direc tion of an elegant young wom an in a dark s uit s itting on his right. 'W e are here for the public auc tion of the freehold property known as P eewit Cottage, Hawks rill, in the c ounty of Y orks hire. T he partic ulars of the s ale, s etting out the c onditions , are here' - he s tabbed a large offic ial-looking folder before him on the table - 's hould anyone who has not rec eived a c opy wis h to view them before the s ale c om m enc es . P eewit Cottage is s old with vac ant pos s es s ion on c om pletion of the c ontrac t. I would like to rem ind the s uc c es s ful bidder that ten per c ent depos it is payable today and that, in addition to the purc has e pric e, there will be, of c ours e, s tam p duty, land regis try fee and s olic itor's c harges .' He s m iled and s c ratc hed his hatc het nos e. 'S o, is there anyone wis hing to view the partic ulars of s ale?' He s c anned the fac es before him . 'No? Has anyone anything to s ay before we begin with the auc tion?' He glanc ed around the room . 'Good. S o, will anyone s tart the bidding. S hall we s ay...' Chris tine and I s at outs ide the Golden B all pub in Hawks rill, s taring in s ilenc e at the wonderful view before us . T he auc tion had finis hed over an hour before. 'W ell,' I s aid, breathing out heavily. 'A re you worried?' Chris tine as ked. 'V ery, and s till a bit s hell-s hoc ked.' 'Y ou don't regret it now, do you?' 'Of c ours e not.' 'I never realis ed you were s o im puls ive. I c ouldn't believe it when you s tarted bidding.' 'I didn't notic e your s topping m e,' I replied, looking into her beautiful blue eyes . 'I knew you had your heart s et on it. I did too. I jus t c ouldn't s top m ys elf, onc e I'd s tarted. J us t like the blue-and-white plate - it was s om ething you really wanted.' 'Com e here,' Chris tine s aid and gave m e a great hug and a kis s . 'Oh Gervas e, think of the views and the beam s and the quarry-tiled floors and the old fireplac es and the little garden.' 'A nd all the work.' 'W e'll m anage that even if we have to s leep on the floor for a few years and put up with the dam p and woodworm and c ollaps ing gutters and c rum bling walls . I c an't believe it. It's ours , that lovely c ottage. It's ours .' A lthough the village hall had been pac ked to the walls there had only been three people interes ted in buying: a loc al builder, an arc hitec t from Leeds and m ys elf. T he others who c rowded into the m us ty room were, no doubt, the villagers who were interes ted in what the c ottage would fetc h and who the new owners were. T he bidding had s tarted low but inc reas ed quic kly pas t the guide pric e. A part from the s erendipitous vis it to Roper's S aleroom in Collington, I had only been to a few auc tions and then to buy books , s o I was not at all experienc ed. However, when the builder waved his paper os tentatious ly and the arc hitec t nodded c onfidently, I had entered the fray, and like a bulldog with a bone, hung on until Mr Harper of Harper, Read and Harper, A uc tioneers , V aluers and E s tate A gents had banged his gavel loud enough to wake the dead and s houted: 'S old to the young gentlem an at the bac k.' P eople in front of us s wivelled in their s eats to s ee who this 'young gentlem an' was . 'Y oung, m ad gentlem an' would have been m ore apt, I thought, m y heart ham m ering s o loudly that I thought everyone c ould hear it. B efore going for our c elebratory drink at the Golden B all, we had walked out of the village and into the open c ountry beyond, in order to turn bac k and look at the property we had jus t bought. T he c ottage looked s m all and rather s ad in the early afternoon s uns hine. T he roof, c overed in c rac ked orange tiles , s agged in the m iddle and the c him ney leaned to one s ide. T iny windows were s et in the old red s ands tone walls and the paint was flaking from the wooden s hutters . A thic k s tem of ivy writhed like a s nake over the porc h and gras s s prouted like tufts of green hair from the broken guttering. T he s m all garden was - well, no one c ould c all it a garden: it was a jungle of weeds and this tles , c hoking bram bles and wild bus hes whic h m ight onc e have been c alled s hrubs . Chris tine wrapped her arm s around m e and hugged m e tightly. 'Is n't it jus t idyllic ?' s he s ighed. I c ould have provided a m ore appropriate adjec tive but bit m y tongue and thought of all the hard graft ahead. T he thought upperm os t in m y m ind was thank heavens I had not got the S enior Ins pec tor's pos t after all bec aus e I would be s pending every s pare m om ent trying to get P eewit Cottage habitable. 'Happy?' I as ked. 'W hat do you think?' s he replied and her eyes s hone. T hat afternoon I had agreed to s peak about c hildren's books on the loc al radio. T he us ual c ontributor, a librarian with the c ounty library s ervic e, was on holiday and I had agreed to s tep in. I had not s poken on radio before and, although I was in a buoyant m ood thinking about the c ottage, I als o felt m ore than a twinge of nerves as I s at in the s m all s tudio, headphones on waiting to be introduc ed. T he radio pres enter, Lenny W alters , was a loud young blac k m an with a c om pletely bald head and an as s ortm ent of gold rings in one ear and on his fingers . He told m e that eac h week there was this s lot - not too long - when the librarian rec om m ended a few books for c hildren. 'A ll very laid bac k and c hatty, nothing too heavy,' he explained. I gulped and looked down at m y notes . T he m us ic that was playing c am e to an end, and Lenny leant towards the m ic rophone. 'For thos e of you who have jus t tuned in,' he s aid, 'this is the "Lis ten in with Lenny" s how and I am Lenny W alters and I will be with you for the next hour with all the news , views , reviews , rec ord reques ts and lots and lots of oldtim e favourites and popular hits . If you have a point of view, if you have s om ething you want to s ay, if you have anything you want to get off your c hes t or if you jus t want a rec ord playing for s om eone s pec ial, then pic k up the phone and dial Lenny on Fettles ham 820340. Now,' and he pic ked an index c ard from the top of the pile in front of him , 'the next rec ord is for Mrs Doreen Roberts of V ic toria T errac e, Fettles ham who wants m e to play "Com e bac k to S orrento" s ung by the late, great J os ef Loc ke. Doreen tells m e s he's never been to S orrento - s he's a S kegnes s pers on hers elf - but the rec ord will bring bac k very happy m em ories of the Italian pris oner-of-war s he m et when s he was a Land Girl.' Lenny pres s ed a button on the huge dec k before him and J os ef Loc ke began his very em otional rendering of "Com e bac k to S orrento" for luc ky Mrs Doreen Roberts of V ic toria T errac e, Fettles ham , then he s wivelled around in his c hair to fac e m e. 'S o, what's it like being a s c hool ins pec tor then?' he as ked, tilting bac k and reac hing for a plas tic c up of c offee. B efore I c ould res pond he rattled on: 'I bet you put the fear of God into teac hers , don't you, when you arrive at their c las s room door? It's the s ort of job I rec kon you never adm it to doing, is it? S c hool ins pec tor? Like a traffic warden or a tax ins pec tor. If I were you, I wouldn't m ention being a s c hool ins pec tor when I put you on. I'll jus t tell the lis teners you're filling in this week for J une. W e don't want a load of angry teac hers s houting down the line, do we?' 'OK ,' I replied. J os ef Loc ke faded, Lenny prodded another button on his dec k and announc ed: 'A nd now for our weekly look at books . T his week, we have a new fac e in the s tudio. J arvis P hipps , who's s tanding in for our lovely J une, is with m e this afternoon. J une's on holiday this week, s unning hers elf on a beac h in T unis ia, luc ky J une, s o we have another bookworm here - if I m ay c all you that, J arvis - to tell us what books are in the s hops and what you m ight enjoy reading over E as ter.' I talked a little about s om e popular books for five m inutes or s o and then Lenny c am e bac k in. 'T hanks , J arvis . S tay with us bec aus e there m ight be s om e lis teners out there who want to phone in.' He pic ked up the next c ard off the pile on the c ons ole in front of him . 'T he next rec ord is for Ros em ary Mulligan of B room V alley Road, K irby Rus ton. Ros em ary wants a rec ord for her dear grandfather, P atric k - known as P addy - Mulligan who lives at Holly Hous e Res idential Hom e, Fettles ham , and is one hundred and eleven years old. W ow! T hat's a fair old age, P addy, and no m is take. One hundred and eleven and not out! Did you know that s c ore in c ric ket is c alled a Nels on and is c ons idered bad luc k? I hope it does n't bring you bad luc k, P addy. David S heppard, the E ngland c ric ket um pire, always s tands on one leg when that s c ore is reac hed. P erhaps P addy s hould s tand on one leg all year! A nyway, Ros em ary wants T ina T urner s inging, "W hen the Heartac he is Over".' Lenny tried to s uppres s his laughter. 'I'll tell you what, P addy, if I reac h a hundred and eleven and s till like lis tening to the likes of T ina T urner, I'll be happy m an. A nd I c an s ee J arvis nodding away in the s tudio. S o here's T ina T urner s inging "W hen the Heartac he is Over" for the rem arkable one-hundred-and-eleven-year-old P atric k "c all m e P addy" Mulligan.' 'A c tually, it's Gervas e,' I told Lenny while T ina was belting out her s ong. 'W hat is ?' 'My nam e, it's not J arvis , it's Gervas e.' Lenny's m ind was c learly on other things . He was flic king s witc hes and pres s ing buttons on his c ons ole. 'Right,' he s aid. 'Hey, it's am azing, is n't it? T his old bloke. One hundred and eleven! ' 'He m us t be the oldes t m an in E ngland,' I s aid. 'Y eah, I s uppos e he is ,' replied Lenny. W hen T ina T urner had finis hed s inging, he s tabbed the c ons ole before him . 'J arvis and m e have been having a little dis c us s ion here in the s tudio,' Lenny told his lis teners , 'and we rec kon P addy Mulligan of Holly Hous e Res idential Hom e is the oldes t m an in E ngland. I've heard of a wom an in Franc e who's one hundred and fifteen and s he's the oldes t pers on in E urope, and there's a m an in India, I think, who's older, but I rec kon P addy Mulligan at one hundred and eleven m us t be the oldes t m an in E ngland. Now, this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to invite P addy to c om e into the s tudio and tell the lis teners about his wonderful long life. He m us t have s een s om e things in his one hundred and eleven years . I'll arrange a c ar to c ollec t you, P addy, and your lovely granddaughter, Ros em ary, of c ours e, and we'll get you into the s tudio next week. A nd there'll be a bottle of c ham pagne waiting for you to c elebrate your long life. How about that? I'm s ure the lis teners would love to hear from you. Give us a ring, Ros em ary, and tell us if you're willing. Now I'm going to play the next trac k for P addy, and it's another T ina T urner num ber, "S im ply the B es t" bec aus e that's what you are, P addy, s im ply the bes t.' During the next rec ord the c ons ole before Lenny began flas hing m adly. He prodded a button and s poke to s om e dis em bodied voic e. 'Y eah, yeah, I s ee. W hat did s he s ay? Really?' He s troked his bald head. 'Oh, no! Is he? OK , OK . Y eah, I'll s ort it. I s aid, I'll s ort it.' He looked at m e s hrugged and s hook his head. 'W e've got a problem ,' he m outhed. My im m ediate thought was that poor old P addy had finally gone to m eet his m aker. 'T hat was T ina T urner s inging "S im ply the B es t",' announc ed Lenny into the m ic rophone in a rather m ore s ubdued voic e. 'Now, we've jus t rec eived a telephone c all from a rather dis tres s ed Ros em ary Mulligan of B room V alley Road, K irby Rus ton. Her grandfather, P atric k, is not, as I s tated earlier, a hundred and eleven years old.' He paus ed, looking at the index c ard he held in front of him . 'He's ill.' T hat evening, Chris tine and I were c urled up on the s ofa together in m y flat. W e had enjoyed a s plendid s upper and a bottle of good wine. It had been m em orable day. W e were s o happy. 'It frightens m e s om etim es ,' I told her. 'W hat does ?' 'J us t how luc ky I am . T o have you for the res t of m y life in our dream c ottage. It s om etim es feels jus t too good to be true.' 'I'm luc ky, too,' Chris tine s aid, giving m e a kis s . 'On the radio program m e today,' I told her, 'the pres enter played this rec ord, "S im ply the B es t", and I thought of you. T hat's what you are, Chris , s im ply the bes t thing that's happened to m e. I'm the luc kies t m an alive.' 'I love you too,' s he replied, s nuggling c los e to m e and then, after a paus e, m urm ured, 'Gervas e?' 'Y es , what is it, darling?' 'Y ou will always be hones t with m e, won't you. T ell m e if there is anything that's on your m ind, anything whic h I do whic h ups ets you?' 'Of c ours e, and you'll be hones t with m e as well, won't you?' 'Y es , of c ours e I will. In fac t, on that s ubjec t, I hope you won't m ind m y m entioning this but when we are m arried you won't leave your dirty c lothes on the floor, will you, and... er... about your s oc ks ...'

13 Chris tine and I were m arried on 15 A pril at S t W alburga's Churc h. I wore a c harc oal-grey m orning c oat and Chris tine a s im ple white dres s and veil. S he needed no elaborate s ilk wedding gown, em bellis hed with intric ate em broidery and s tudded with pearls , s he needed no long lac e train held by page boys in velvet, no fanc y nec klac e or diam ond tiara to look s tunning. S he would have looked the s am e to m e in a threadbare arm y greatc oat. On that bright s pring m orning with the s un s hining through the s tained glas s and bathing her in a pale golden light, Chris tine looked a vis ion as s he walked down the ais le on her father's arm . In her hands s he held a delic ate pos y of m us c ari and frees ia in the c entre of whic h was a s m all, but very s pec ial s prig of broom . T he las t day of term had been an em otional oc c as ion. I had been invited to W innery Nook Nurs ery and Infants S c hool to be introduc ed to the c hildren not as the s c hool ins pec tor but as Mis s B entley's future hus band and for a pres entation from the governors , s taff and c hildren. One s m all boy in partic ular had touc hed our hearts . B arry was s ix and it was c lear to everyone who m et him that he was a neglec ted c hild who des perately s ought affec tion. His s hirt was invariably dirty, his trous ers frayed, his jum per s pattered with s tains and he had that unpleas ant, unwas hed s m ell about him . 'He's from a large one-parent fam ily,' Chris tine had told m e, when I had m et the little boy on a previous vis it to the s c hool. 'I don't s uppos e he gets m uc h attention at hom e. His m other is a s harp-tongued, m is erable wom an and, from what I gather, finds it diffic ult to c ope. Dem anding young c hildren, too little m oney, m ounting debts , abs entee father - or, m ore likely, fathers - a s tring of violent boyfriends . It's perhaps no s urpris e that s he looks perm anently exhaus ted and that s he flies off the handle at every opportunity. B ut B arry des erves better. S he s eem s to have no interes t in him at all.' 'W hat a life! ' I had s aid. Des pite his bac kground, B arry was a rem arkably c heerful little boy who never c om plained and always tried his lim ited bes t at his s c hool work. 'Hello, Mis s B entley,' he would s hout brightly eac h m orning as he waited for her at the entranc e to the s c hool. 'A ny jobs , m is s ?' He loved nothing better than s traightening the c hairs , giving out the paper and penc ils , c ollec ting the books , tidying up the c las s room and pic king up litter and he took on all thes e tas ks c heerfully, whis tling away as if he had not a c are in the world. It was jus t after the as s em bly on this final m orning, where we had been pres ented with a large box wrapped in pale flowery wedding paper and fes tooned with ribbons and s ilver hors es hoes , that B arry had appeared. S om e of the c hildren had brought individual pres ents and c ards , others had arrived at s c hool with great bunc hes of daffodils , tulips and other s pring flowers . S oon W e had been s urrounded by a c hattering, exc ited throng of c hildren, all eager to wis h us well. B arry had held bac k until Chris tine and I had begun to m ake our way to her room . 'Hello, B arry,' Chris tine had s aid, having c aught s ight of him lingering in the c orridor. 'Com e along and m eet m y fianc e. Do you rem em ber Mr P hinn?' T he little boy had s urveyed m e s erious ly. He was c arrying two s m all branc hes of faded broom whic h had s een better days and a c ouple of forlorn iris es , wrapped in a piec e of c olourful paper whic h I realis ed was a page torn out of a m agazine. 'A re you really getting m arried then, m is s ?' he had as ked s adly. 'Y es , I am ,' Chris tine had replied, c rouc hing down s o s he had been on his level. S he had taken his grubby little hand in hers . 'A ren't you going to s ay "hello" to m y hus band-to-be?' 'Hello,' the little boy had m um bled dis c ons olately. 'Hello, B arry,' I had replied. 'A nd next term I'll be Mrs P hinn,' Chris tine had told him . 'Is n't it exc iting?' 'I like you as Mis s B entley,' he had s aid unhappily. 'I don't want you getting m arried. I don't want you to. I don't, I don't! ' A nd he had burs t into tears . 'I'll s till be the s am e pers on, B arry. I won't be any different.' 'Y ou will! Y ou will! ' he had wailed piteous ly. 'I know you will.' T hen he had looked up at Chris tine, s niffing and s obbing and rubbing his eyes . 'I wanted to m arry you.' Chris tine had wrapped her arm s around his s m all s haking body. 'A nd are thes e lovely flowers for m e?' s he had as ked in a trem bling voic e. I knew s he was as affec ted by this pathetic little s c ene as I was . He had nodded and s niffed. 'T hey're beautiful, and I s hall put them in water and have them on m y des k. T hes e s hall be m y very s pec ial flowers .' S he had taken his hand, led him into the s taff room , with m e following, and found the m os t c olourful vas e from under the s ink. T he flowers had been arranged and we had followed Chris tine bac k to her room where s he had put the vas e in pride of plac e on her des k. S he had then given the little boy a hug. 'T hes e are m y very s pec ial flowers , B arry. T hank you s o m uc h. I like them better than any other flowers I have been given.' Chris told m e later that, at the end of the day, the little boy had appeared at her door. 'Hello, B arry,' Chris tine had s aid brightly. 'Have you c om e to wis h m e all the bes t for m y wedding next week?' 'I've c om e for m y flowers , m is s ,' he had s aid bluntly. 'Y our flowers ? Oh, I thought they were for m e.' 'T hey're very s pec ial,' the c hild had s aid s olem nly. 'Y ou s aid they were very s pec ial.' 'A nd they are,' Chris tine had told him . 'I think they are beautiful but I thought you brought them for m e.' 'T hey're very s pec ial,' B arry had repeated, 'and I want to give them to m y m am .' Chris tine had s m iled. 'Of c ours e, you do.' S he had rem oved the broom , virtually bare of its yellow blos s om , and the two wilting iris es from the vas e and had wrapped them in s om e bright red tis s ue paper. T hen, taking a ribbon from one of the wedding pres ents , s he had tied them in a bunc h. 'T hey look really nic e now, don't they?' s he had s aid. 'W hat a lovely s urpris e for your m um m y.' Chris tine had plac ed the flowers in the c hild's hands . 'Do you think I m ight have jus t a little s prig of broom for good luc k? I'll put it with m y bouquet when I get m arried.' T he c hild had nodded and s napped a s prig from a branc h. Chris tine had watc hed B arry s c urry down the s c hool path to be m et at the gates by a s toc ky, unkem pt wom an with s hort bleac hed hair and a c igarette dangling from her m outh. T wo s c ream ing toddlers were writhing and wriggling in the pus h-c hair bes ide her. On s eeing her s on, s he had s tabbed the air with a finger and had begun s houting at him . Reac hing her, the little boy had held up his bouquet like a pries t at the altar m aking an offering. T he flowers had been prom ptly pluc ked from his hand and depos ited in the neares t bin. 'W hat a life,' I had s aid to Chris tine when s he told m e this . 'W hat a life! ' * T he day of our wedding went like c loc kwork. For a s tart, the weather was perfec t: it was one of thos e bright s pring days when there was even a little warm th in the s un and the air was alive with bird s ong. T he rec eption was held at the B ankfield Hotel, a grey, turreted building c overed in thic k ivy and s urrounded by long lawns whic h were c arpeted with great s wathes of daffodils . W e left the c hurc h and village s quare in a s m art pony and trap and, as we approac hed the hotel, the building s eem ed to ris e like a c as tle from a s ea of green and gold. A ll the s peec hes had been well rec eived, partic ularly 'Legs ' B entley's , Chris tine's father. A t one m om ent he had us all roaring with laughter as he des c ribed her c hildhood antic s and the next he m oved us to tears des c ribing how m uc h he loved this gentle, c om pas s ionate wom an who had brought s uc h joy into his life. S idney threatened to m ake a s peec h about m e, but I think he was only joking and was , for onc e, quiet when Geraldine playfully put her hand ac ros s his m outh. W e were overwhelm ed with pres ents and good wis hes , and we even rec eived a c ard from S im on Carter, wis hing us all the very bes t and s aying how m uc h he was looking forward to working with m e. S o, m y lovely bride and I c ould not have hoped for a better s tart to our m arried life. T he honeym oon, however, was not without inc ident. Chris tine and I drove to the Lake Dis tric t in her Morris T raveller, talking non-s top. Mos t of the c onvers ation was about P eewit Cottage - what we intended to do with the overgrown garden (typic al of us to worry about the leas t im portant firs t), the im provem ents we envis aged to the c om pletely out-dated kitc hen, our plans for the c old dam p bedroom s and the es s ential c hanges needed to the plum bing. W e c hatted about c olour s c hem es and furniture, c urtains and c arpets , wallpaper and widow-boxes all the way to the S alutation Hotel in A m bles ide. On that firs t evening I was waiting for Chris tine to join m e in the bar before dinner when I bec am e aware of a fam iliar perfum e, a perfum e whic h brought bac k m any m em ories . T urning, I c am e fac e-to-fac e with s om eone I had not s een for years . 'S us an! ' I exc laim ed, nearly dropping m y drink. 'W hatever are you doing here?' 'Hello, Gervas e,' s he s aid c alm ly. 'I thought in this s ituation, when one has n't s een s om eone for a long tim e, that the line is us ually: "How lovely to s ee you again."' I had m et S us an at the Charlotte Mas on College in A m bles ide s ix or s even years before. I was s till a teac her at the tim e and was attending a weekend c ours e at the c ollege where I m et this s tunningly attrac tive wom an with long auburn hair and eyes the c olour of polis hed jade. S he was teac hing in a large c om prehens ive s c hool in B irm ingham and I had been well and truly s m itten. S us an was a lively, intelligent and am us ing pers on and, when we had both returned hom e, I had pluc ked up the c ourage, telephoned her and as ked her out. W e had s pent m os t weekends for the next year together. W e went to the theatre and c onc erts , and s pent m any hours walking in Derbys hire whic h was about the halfway point between our two hom es . Oc c as ionally, we went further afield, liking es pec ially to walk on the beac h at W hitby. For m e, the relations hip s oon began to bec om e m ore and m ore s erious . It was not quite the s am e for S us an. S he was s o c ons um ed by her work that I s uddenly realis ed s he did not want the relations hip to develop into anything perm anent. T here had been no m ention of our s ettling down together, or engagem ent or m arriage. T hen one evening, after a quiet and unus ually s trained c onvers ation over dinner, s he had told m e that s he had dec ided to ac c ept a s enior pos ition teac hing in an arm y s c hool in Germ any. S o we had parted on am ic able term s to go our s eparate ways . Now here s he was , with the s am e long auburn hair and eyes the c olour of polis hed jade. 'I'm s orry, S us an,' I s tuttered now, 'it's ... it's ... jus t that it's s uc h a s hoc k s eeing you here.' 'Y es , it's a bit of a s urpris e for m e, too,' s he s aid. 'I c ouldn't believe m y eyes when I s aw you propping up the bar.' 'I jus t c an't believe it's you.' 'Y ou really do look as if you've s een a ghos t,' s he s aid. 'I don't look all that dire, do I?' 'No, no, of c ours e you don't... well... you look... er... wonderful. Y ou haven't c hanged a bit.' 'Neither have you.' 'It's jus t s uc h a s urpris e finding you here of all plac es . I'm s orry, I...' 'I do wis h you would s top apologis ing,' s he s aid. 'I'm s orry, it's jus t s uc h a s hoc k. S o, you're bac k from Germ any?' 'Y es , about a year. I'm a deputy headteac her now, in B uxton, but it has the rather quaint title of S enior Mis tres s .' 'Congratulations . I knew you were des tined for the top. Headteac her next.' 'Hope s o.' 'A nd are you s till working too hard, putting in all thos e hours ?' 'T hat's the nature of the job,' s he replied, 'as you well know.' 'Y ou look as if you are enjoying life, anyway.' 'Oh, I am . I love the work. I live in a hous e with fabulous views , and am always bus y. A ll the ingredients , in fac t, for a very happy and fulfilled life.' S he did not s ound all that happy and fulfilled, I thought to m ys elf. It was as if s he were trying to c onvinc e hers elf. 'I jus t c an't get over s eeing you. A nd what are you doing here in the S alutation?' 'I'm attending a m anagem ent and leaders hip c ours e at the c ollege. Lots of long lec tures and dis c us s ion groups . W e have a free evening tonight, though, s o we are letting our hair down a bit. Y ou are very welc om e to join us if you'd like to.' B efore I c ould ans wer, s he c ontinued, 'I did try and get in touc h, you know.' 'Really?' 'I did, yes , but you were out ins pec ting every tim e I c alled your offic e and your s ec retary wouldn't give m e your hom e num ber.' 'No, J ulie never gives out our pers onal num bers . If s he did, we'd be inundated with c alls from angry parents and teac hers and governors and I don't know who els e. W hy didn't you leave a m es s age?' 'Oh, I don't know,' s he replied quietly. 'W hy not?' 'P ride, I gues s . I s uppos e I was a bit afraid that you wouldn't ring bac k. I was intending to try again but tim e m oved on and I was bus y and... oh... I don't know.' 'Y ou don't know m e very well, S us an,' I replied. 'How do you m ean?' 'Of c ours e I would have got bac k to you. Y ou know how I felt about you.' 'Y es , I know,' s he s aid. 'I think about our tim es together often enough. A nyway, that's water under the bridge now, is n't it?' W hen I didn't ans wer, s he c ontinued trying to S ound c heerful. 'A nd what about you? Do you like s c hool ins pec ting?' 'Y es , I love it. B es t m ove I ever m ade.' 'A nd are you the Chief Ins pec tor yet?' 'No, I did try for a s enior ins pec tor's job, but was n't even interviewed.' 'More fool them .' 'I'm really glad things have worked out for you,' I s aid. 'I was s ure you'd get to the top.' 'Y es , I was always am bitious , perhaps a bit too m uc h.' I did not know what to s ay. 'It was only when I had m oved to Germ any that I began to m is s things . I m is s ed the theatre trips and the walks , and our trips to W hitby and thos e ridic ulous ly unhealthy fis h and c hips at T he Magpies . Do you rem em ber? A nd looking for piec es of jet on the beac h. I even m is s ed the s c hool plays you dragged m e along to.' S he looked into m y eyes . 'A nd I m is s ed you, Gervas e. I've thought about you a lot.' 'S us an...' I began. I c ould feel m y fac e beginning to get hot with em barras s m ent. I was s tuc k for words again. 'I s uppos e it's one of life's m os t hac kneyed phras es ,' s he c ontinued. 'If only...' 'A h, well...' I began again. 'T o be truthful, if I had m y tim e over again and had thos e c hoic es to m ake and if...' 'Y es ... well...' 'S o, perhaps I s hould give you that ring?' 'Ring! ' I gulped. 'W ... what ring?' 'Give you that ring and arrange s om ething, that's if you are s till... well, you know, unattac hed.' 'S us an,' I s aid gently, 'I'm with s om eone tonight. A terrible c lic he, perhaps , but true - I am with s om eone tonight...' My voic e trailed off. 'Oh,' was all s he s aid. I knew I had to get the truth out. 'I m et her jus t after I had s tarted the ins pec tor's job in Y orks hire. W e've been going out now for two years . Her nam e's Chris tine.' 'I s ee,' s he s aid again. T here was an awkward s ilenc e. 'Is s he beautiful?' 'Y es , s he's very beautiful.' 'S illy ques tion. Of c ours e s he's beautiful and probably very c lever and c harm ing and s uc c es s ful as well.' 'S us an,' I s aid, 'I'm m arried now. In fac t, today. W e are here on our honeym oon.' T he words now c am e tum bling out. S he looked aghas t. Oh dear. How em barras s ing! T his is the s ort of terrible s ituation we all dread. I think I'm s uppos ed to s ay, "W ell, I hope you'll be very happy together."' S he looked up and there were tears in her eyes . 'I've m ade a bit of a fool of m ys elf, haven't I?' 'No, of c ours e not,' I replied. 'Y ou weren't to know.' 'I do hope you will be very happy together, Gervas e, I really do. Y ou des erve it.' S he kis s ed m e lightly on the c heek. 'I had better go, the others will be m is s ing m e.' 'S us an -' I began, but s he quic kly walked away and was gone before I c ould c om plete the s entenc e. I c ould feel m y heart pounding in m y c hes t. 'Could I have a whis ky, pleas e?' I as ked the barm an. 'A nd m ake it a double.' 'S o who was that wom an you were talking to at the bar?' as ked Chris tine when we s at down for dinner. I had hoped s he hadn't notic ed when s he'd walked into the bar by one door jus t as S us an was leaving the bar by its s ec ond door. I had im m ediately c anc elled m y whis ky and as ked the barm an to open the c ham pagne I had ordered previous ly. 'S he's a deputy headteac her, here on s om e s ort of s tudy c ours e,' I replied, now reading the m enu and attem pting to s ound c as ual and rather vague, 'I us ed to know her.' 'S he's very attrac tive.' 'Y es , s he is , is n't s he, very attrac tive. W hat are you going to s tart with?' 'A nd beautifully dres s ed.' 'Y es , s he was . I think I'll s tart with the s c allops .' 'S o how did you know her?' Oh, it was s om e years ago. I m et her on a c ours e. Here in A m bles ide, as a m atter of fac t.' 'Gos h! ' exc laim ed Chris tine. 'Y ou have a rem arkably good m em ory for fac es , pretty fac es anyway.' 'A c tually, I knew her very well.' I took rather a large gulp of c ham pagne, and the bubbles fizzed in m y nos e. 'In fac t, I knew her very well indeed. I went out with her for nearly a year. W e were jus t c atc hing up on old tim es .' Chris tine took a s ip of her c ham pagne and s m iled at m e. 'Y ou know one of thes e days , Gervas e P hinn, s om eone will take you s erious ly.' S he laughed, throwing bac k her head. 'Chris tine, it's true! ' S he c learly s till did not believe m e and thought I was teas ing her. 'Did you notic e s he was wearing an ankle brac elet?' 'No, I didn't. I don't go around, es pec ially on m y honeym oon, looking at attrac tive wom en's ankles .' 'W ell, s he was . S he didn't look very m uc h like a deputy headteac her to m e.' 'A nd what, pray, does a deputy headteac her look like?' 'W ell, c ertainly not like the wom an at the bar.' 'Chris tine -' I began. 'It would be s om ething to tell your c olleagues at work, wouldn't it,' s he s aid, s m iling again. 'W hat would?' 'T hat on your honeym oon you had m et an old flam e in the hotel. Y ou have a wild and wonderful im agination, do you know that? W ho w as s he really?' 'Oh, jus t s om eone I m et at the bar,' I replied. 'Now, Mrs P hinn, have you dec ided what to have?'

W e s tayed for jus t a week in A m bles ide, walking on s om e of the Lake Dis tric t's beautiful fells . W e s pent the other week of the E as ter holidays s tarting work on P eewit Cottage. A n anc ient great-aunt of Chris 's had died at the beginning of the year, and had left her s om e furniture whic h had been s tored tem porarily in her parents ' garage. T o s tart with, we jus t took over a table and s om e c hairs , os tens ibly s o we c ould eat in c om fort the c old food we brought with us from the flat - but the end of a hard day's work often found us eating the exc ellent pies produc ed by the Golden B all. T here was abs olutely no point in bringing any m ore furniture, nor having c arpets laid, until the verm inous woodwork was treated, the dam p dealt with in the bed-room s and the walls then re-plas tered. Only then c ould we m ake a s tart on trans form ing the plac e into our dream c ottage. W e didn't want to s pend a s ingle night m ore than nec es s ary in m y s m all flat above T he Rum bling T um c afe and aim ed to m ove in during the s c hool half-term holiday. One afternoon, I abandoned the job of rubbing down the bathroom walls and c am e outs ide to have a breath of fres h air. I was s itting on the drys tone wall whic h enc los ed the s m all garden, s taring abs trac tedly at the breathtaking panoram a before m e. I c ould not believe that we had this view from the bedroom window, that we would pull bac k the c urtains every m orning and gaze upon ac res of green undulating fields s tudded with grey outc rops of roc k and divided by thin white walls whic h ros e like veins im pos s ibly high to the c raggy fells ides beyond. I s uddenly bec am e aware of a figure obs erving m e from the gate. He was a grizzled old m an with a wide-boned, pitted fac e the c olour and texture of an uns c rubbed potato, a long beak of a nos e with flared nos trils and an im pres s ive s hoc k of white hair. 'How do, s quire,' he s aid. 'Oh, good afternoon,' I replied, c lam bering down from the wall and joining him . 'A dm irin' t'view, are tha?' 'Y es and having a bit of res t.' 'Hard work, then?' he as ked, ges turing towards the c ottage. 'Y es , and very dirty,' I replied, brus hing a c loud of dus t from m y overalls . 'T ha m us t be t'new people 'ere, then?' he obs erved. 'T 'wife s aid a young c ouple 'ad m oved in.' 'T hat's right.' 'I'm Harry Cotton. Live up by t'bec k. I'm tha neares t neighbour.' 'I'm pleas ed to m eet you, Mr Cotton,' I replied, s haking a large hand as rough as s andpaper. 'I'm Gervas e P hinn.' 'Foreign then, are tha?' 'No, as Y orks hire as you are.' 'Oh aye?' He s uc ked in his breath, s urveyed the c ottage and then with s low deliberation announc ed, 'I rec kon there's a fair bit for tha to do theer, Mes ter P hinn.' 'T here is indeed,' I agreed. 'I wun't like to tek it on, I'll tell thee that. B een em pty for a fair owld tim e, that c ottage, tha knaas . Old Mrs Ollerans haw, 'er who 'ad it afore thee and lived theer all 'er life, m us t 'ave been deead near on two year now. Her nephew, who inherited it, c ouldna m ake up his m ind whether to live in it 'im s elf. T hat's why it's bin em pty s o long. A ye, I rec kon there's a fair bit to do.' 'Oh, I'm s ure we'll get there,' I replied, attem pting to s ound c heerful. My rus tic c om panion rubbed his c hin, twis ted his m outh and c oc ked his head in the direc tion of the c ottage. 'Dam p,' the old m an announc ed. 'I beg your pardon?' 'Fair bit of dam p, is there?' he enquired grim ly. 'Y es , there's dam p all right.' 'I thowt s o. A nd woodworm , I rec kon?' 'Y es , we have woodworm as well.' 'A nd tha c him ney needs pointin' by looks on it.' 'Y es , it does .' 'B it of s ubs idenc e at t'front an' all.' 'W ell, I s uppos e you have to expec t that s ort of thing in a c ottage this old.' 'Oh, it's old all reight. One o' oldes t in t'village, they rec kon. P rob'ly a few ghooas ts knoc kin' abaat. T ha wants to get t'vic ar in to do bit o' exorc is in'.' 'I think not,' I replied, s m iling. 'A t leas t tha dunt 'ave a reight big garden to keep on t' top of, any rooad.' 'No, it's very s m all and, onc e I've tam ed it, s hould be quite m anageable,' I replied, looking with s om e foreboding at the tangle of bus hes and s hrubs . 'Mrs Ollerans haw owned all that little lot what's next to thee.' He ges tured with his hand towards a large area of overgrown land. 'S old s eparate, I believe, by 'er nephew few m onths bac k. I rec kon they'll be buildin' s om e o' them s wanky, gret 'ous es theer afore too long.' 'I doubt they'd be allowed to,' I replied. 'A ye, well, they do all s orts of things , thes e planners and arc hitec ts an' s urveyors . W ouldn't trus t 'em as far as I c ould throw 'em . E s tate agents an all. T hey're all t's am e. Only out to m ek a bob or two.' T he grizzled old m an rubbed his s tubble and nodded knowingly. 'Y ou m ark m y words , they'll have a whole lot o'new hous es theer afore year's out, bloc kin' tha view.' 'I c ertainly hope not! ' I exc laim ed. 'A ny rooad, you won't 'ave a big garden to deal with.' 'A c tually, I wouldn't have m inded a bit m ore land,' I adm itted. 'T o grow a few vegetables - that s ort of thing. Not enough room here' 'W ell, tha c an allus get this s en an allotm ent. T here's one goin' jus t down from m e. T ed P os kitt give it up a c ouple o' years bac k. T oo m uc h for 'im what wi' ac c ident an' all. T ha wants to talk to George on t'paris h c ounc il, and as k abaat it. Nic e little plot reight in c orner, it is , s heltered. I'd tek it on m is s en but I've got enough on wi' m i own. Mind you, it'd tek a fair bit of graftin' to c lear it and dig it ovver. T ed P os kitt let it go, tha s ees , after 'is ac c ident. He was nivver s am e. A ny rooad, tha wants to think abaat it. T ha go an' talk to George Hem m ings on t'paris h c ounc il, he'll s ee you reight.' 'I'll do that,' I s aid, thinking that it would be rather nic e to have an allotm ent to provide endles s s upplies of fres h vegetables . 'T hank you for m entioning it.' 'Dry rot,' the old m an announc ed s uddenly. 'I beg your pardon?' 'I rec kon thas got a bit o' dry rot in that c ottage, an' all.' 'I s hould im agine we have,' I s ighed. 'W ell, I hope tha fettles it,' he s aid, s taring up at the grey c louds oozing over the felltops . 'I rec kon we're in for a bit o' rain. My owld dad us ed to s ay when t'blac kthorn blos s om s c om e out in early Marc h and when t's heep is behind walls at m idday and when you s ee worm s c rawlin' on t'rooad, it's a s ure s ign of a wet m onth ahead. A ye, we get a fair bit o' rain up 'ere. T hy s hall 'ave to get us ed to a bit o' wet. I rec kon yer roof leaks , an' all. W ell, I'll be off.' He rais ed his hand in greeting before going on his way. T he prophet of doom , I thought wryly, and went bac k into the c ottage to do battle with the bathroom walls again. Over the next few weekends , I worked not in the c ottage but on m y allotm ent. Chris had dis c overed that I was n't partic ularly handy when it c am e to painting. 'I'd rather do it m ys elf in the firs t plac e than s pend prec ious tim e re-doing your botc hed attem pts . Go and dig,' s he'd s aid, giving m e a hug. I had trac ked down George Hem m ings the day after Harry Cotton had s poken to m e about the s pare allotm ent, paid the enorm ous rent of P S 5 for the year and was offic ially given the leas e to c ultivate plot 4. E ac h S aturday m orning, I got dres s ed in m y oldes t pair of trous ers and a s hirt frayed at the nec k. Onc e I had s een that Chris tine was happy with her paintbrus h, I would walk at a bris k pac e to the other s ide of the little village where the allotm ents were. I was like a c hild with a new toy. Here I s et to and tac kled the jungle. It was a bac k-breaking bus ines s . A ll the allotm ents , s ave m ine and another at the far s ide, were lovingly tended and s urrounded by either low, neatly-pruned hedges or wooden fenc ing. S om e had brightly-painted s heds , one with a s m all wooden figure on top whic h m oved in a digging m otion in the wind. T here was little growing at this tim e of year s ave for the fat s hoots of early rhubarb pus hing their way though the s oil and tiny tongues of green where the onions and s hallots were poking out. One allotm ent had a s hort row of c abbages , and one with the las t of the leeks , s tanding erec t like a line of s oldiers . My allotm ent was quite different. It was thic k with twis ting bram bles and s harp-s tem m ed briars , a c rop of dandelions to have pleas ed a thous and rabbits , frothy white c ow pars ley, c lum ps of young and very painful s tinging nettles and a m as s of other weeds I didn't know the nam es of. I s et to work with a s c ythe, hac king, s las hing, c utting and c hopping, and eventually m anaged to c lear the whole area. I c arefully lifted the m averic k daffodil and bluebell bulbs to the s ide; they c ould be replanted in the c ottage's garden. T he wors t job was c learing the tangle of deep-rooted pric kly bus hes whic h s eem ed to c over half the plot. T hen, one m em orable S aturday afternoon, I lit a huge bonfire and watc hed with great s atis fac tion as the whole m ountain of weeds and branc hes , bus hes and briars went up in s m oke. 'T ha's m ade a good job of that, and no m is take.' I turned to find m y neighbour, Mr Cotton, watc hing over the wall. 'T hank you,' I s aid, feeling pretty proud of m y handiwork. 'A ye, tha 'as that. Cleared the lot.' 'I'm glad I've finis hed,' I told him , wiping m y brow. 'It was a big job.' 'It would be,' he c om m ented. 'T hos e pric kly bus hes were the wors t. T he roots s eem ed to go down for ever.' 'A ye, they do an' all,' agreed m y c om panion. 'A nyhow, it's all c leared now and ready for planting.' 'I nivver knew that owld A lbert T atters all had given up his allotm ent,' m y c om panion obs erved. 'W ho?' I as ked. 'A lbert T atters all. He had this plot. He's 'ad it for near on fifteen year. I nivver knew he'd given it up. I was only in t'pub wi' him pas t week and 'e never m entioned owt abaat givin' his allotm ent up.' 'W ell, I gues s he m us t have done,' I s aid. 'George Hem m ings c onfirm ed that plot 4 was free for m e to take on.' 'P lot 4,' he repeated. 'T hat's right,' I s aid, 'I've leas ed plot 4.' 'A ye, well, that one you've jus t dug up is plot 7.' 'W hat!' I exc laim ed. 'A lbert T atters all's , plot 7. P lot 4 is at t'other s ide of allotm ent.' He waved a hand towards the jungle by the far wall. 'It's reight ovver theer. T ha's gone an' dug wrong plot, s ithee.' 'It c an't be,' I s aid feebly. I pointed to the neighbouring plots . T here were little white s quares fixed in the earth with the plot num ber on. 'Look, that's plot 3 and there's plot 5 s o this one in the m iddle m us t be plot 4.' 'It s hould be by rights , but it's not,' the old m an told m e. 'T his is Y orks hire, lad. T hings are a bit different 'ere. W e're one on us own. T ha s ees it goes alternate like. It s ort o' runs c ontrary like a lot o' things around 'ere.' 'Y ou m ean, I've gone and c leared the wrong plot?' I as ked. 'A ye, that's the truth on it,' replied Mr Cotton, nodding s agely. 'B ut it was all overgrown. Nobody has done anything to it for years and years .' 'A ye, tha's reight theer. Others who 'ad an allotm ent were allus gerrin on to owld A lbert to do s um m at wi' it. I m ean, all them weeds s pread. S eeds blow ovver onto other people's land. T hey were alius on at 'im .' 'B ut why did Mr T atters all keep an allotm ent that he never c ultivated and never intended to c ultivate?' I as ked, s till unwilling to believe what I had been told. 'Goos eberries .' 'Goos eberries ?' I repeated. 'Y ou s ee, owld A lbert kept it on for t'goos eberries and then, of c ours e, there's the blac kc urrants ?' 'Goos eberries ? B lac kc urrants ?' I c ried. 'W hat goos e-berries and blac kc urrants ?' 'T hem what would have been growin' on them bus hes whic h you dug up and are now burnin' on tha bonfire.' 'I don't believe it,' I whis pered. 'I don't believe it.' 'His wife wins prizes with her goos eberry and blac kc urrant jam s . T hen there's the briars and the pars ley and the dandelions . Owld A lbert m akes a powerful wine, s pec ially his dandelion wine - or us ed to, m ore like.' 'A nd I've dug them all up?' T he old m an rubbed his c hin and c huc kled. 'E very one.' He looked up at the s ky. 'A ye well, I s hall 'ave to be off. Happen tha'll m ek it reight wi' owld A lbert,' he rem arked.

14 It was the firs t day bac k after the E as ter holidays and the full team was in the offic e, awaiting the arrival of the S enior Ins pec tor des ignate who had as ked to m eet with us . 'S o how does it feel to be a m arried m an?' Gerry as ked m e. 'W onderful! ' I replied. 'Marvellous ! ' 'Let's hope it s tays that way,' rem arked S idney, plac ing his hands behind his head and leaning bac k dangerous ly in his c hair, 'and that you feel the s am e way after twenty-five years of it. Marriage is not a bed of ros es , you know, partic ularly for thos e like you, Gervas e, who are dragged to the nuptial altar rather late in life.' 'I was not dragged to the altar, S idney,' I replied, 'and I am not yet in m y dotage.' 'I know you are not, old c hap, but you have been us ed to only c ons idering yours elf, and no doubt are s om ewhat s et in your ways . Y ou will find that having to live with another pers on, c heek by jowl, day after day, s haring the toothpas te, waiting for the bathroom to be free, dis c overing dam p bras draped over radiators , finding your favourite rec ords s c ratc hed, m eans you have to m ake c ertain c hanges and c onc es s ions - s om e of whic h you will not like.' 'I'm s ure I'll m anage,' I s aid. 'Millions do.' 'A nd, of c ours e, m illions do not,' c ontinued S idney, unabas hed. 'One in three m arriages ends in divorc e or s eparation, you know. A s ad fac t but very true.' 'Cynic ,' m um bled David who, until this point, had rem ained unc harac teris tic ally s ilent. 'No,' c ontinued S idney, ignoring him , 'm arriage is not all it's c rac ked up to be.' 'Y ou will be getting a c rac k in a m inute,' David told him , 'if you don't s hut up.' 'I don't know how his wife puts up with him ,' s aid J ulie, having overheard S idney's doom -laden s peec h as s he brought in the c offee. 'His wife m us t be a m artyr.' 'Martyrs tend to be dead, J ulie,' S idney told her, s m iling. 'A s aint then.' 'T hos e as well.' 'His wife des erves a m edal for bravery, having to put up with him .' 'Oh, I wouldn't go that far,' s aid S idney. 'Gervas e is a dec ent enough s ort of fellow and I am s ure the delec table Mis s B entley, or I s hould s ay the delec table Mrs P hinn, will learn to put up with him in tim e.' 'I was talking about you! ' s napped J ulie, plac ing down the tray nois ily on the neares t des k. 'A nd you know very well I was .' 'My dear wife, Lila,' announc ed S idney, putting on an angelic expres s ion, 'far from c ons idering hers elf a s aint and m artyr, thanks her luc ky s tars s he is m arried to s uc h a c reative genius as m ys elf and s he is prepared to take the rough with the s m ooth, the highs with the lows , the ups with the downs , It's all a m atter of give and take. Lila knows how to deal with m y little m ood s wings , foibles and m inor pec c adilloes ,' 'I know how I'd deal with your little m ood s wings , foibles and m inor pec c adilloes ,' s aid J ulie, plac ing a m ug of s team ing c offee before him . 'P ois on! ' 'Do you know, J ulie,' s aid S idney, s itting up and pus hing the c offee away from him in a very theatric al m anner, 'I think I will forgo the m orning libation.' 'If I had wanted to pois on you, Mr Clam p,' J ulie retorted, heading for the door, 'I c ould have done it long ago.' 'A nd I s uppos e you will be the next one, Geraldine,' S idney c as ually rem arked, pic king up the m ug and taking a gulp. 'T he next what?' s he as ked. 'T he next one to pois on you?' 'T o tie the old knot.' 'S idney,' s ighed Gerry, 'you s om etim es c an be really tires om e. I am c ertainly not going to dis c us s m y private life with you.' S he then pointedly c hanged the s ubjec t. 'A nd how's the c ottage c om ing on, Gervas e? A re you s ettled in at Hawks rill?' 'S ettled? Y ou m us t be joking! Y ou s hould s ee the s tate of it. W e've m anaged to get a bit done. T here's a great deal m ore to do before we c an m ove in but we are aim ing for half term .' 'I did warn you, dear boy,' s aid S idney s m ugly. 'It will take an age to put the plac e right, by the s ound of it.' T here was c ertainly m uc h to do but I was not going to fuel S idney's barrage of grim predic tions by telling him about the leaking roof, the faulty guttering, the dam p patc hes ups tairs , the woodworm and the m as s of other things whic h required attention. 'W e are really pleas ed with it,' I told S idney. 'T he c ottage is well built, c os y, has m agnific ent views ac ros s the dale and we know we will be very happy there.' 'W here is he, then?' S idney s uddenly as ked, glanc ing at his watc h. 'W ho?' 'Mr Carter. S im on. I thought we were here to m eet our new leader early this m orning?' 'He s aid nine,' I told him . 'It's only ten m inutes to.' T he S enior Ins pec tor des ignate had c alled a m eeting for us to get to know s om ething about his educ ational philos ophy, as he put it, and for him to c ons ult with us well in advanc e about his plans for the future. W e were all looking forward to m eeting him but, unders tandably, were a little apprehens ive. 'Is Harold not c om ing, then?' as ked Gerry. 'No,' I replied. 'I think he felt it politic to let Mr Carter m eet us him s elf. He thought he m ight inhibit him .' 'Not m uc h c hanc e of that,' m urm ured Gerry, pic king up her m ug of c offee. 'I think it m ight have been c ourteous for Mr Carter to have as ked Harold.' 'Harold didn't want to c om e,' s aid S idney. 'I c an s ee he would have found it rather diffic ult. Mind you, M is ter Carter is c ertainly very keen. Making his pres enc e felt. A fter all, he does n't s tart until S eptem ber.' 'I s uppos e he wants to m eet us , get to know a bit about us before he s tarts and dis c us s the future of the s ervic e as he s ees it,' s aid David. 'I expec t he will want to m ake s om e c hanges and wants to talk to us about them . It s eem s a very s ens ible idea to m e.' 'W ell, I s inc erely hope there won't be too m any c hanges ,' s aid S idney. A t the very m om ent the c loc k on the County Hall tower s truc k nine, the door opened and the m an him s elf entered. Mr S im on Carter was a lean, m iddle-aged m an, im pec c ably groom ed in an expens ive light-grey des igner s uit, pris tine white s hirt and dis c reetly patterned s ilk tie. His pale fac e was long and angular; his hair, c om bed bac k in rippling waves , was c oal-blac k and s hiny, and his eyes were dark and narrow. He looked at the four of us s taring up at him with an expres s ion of im pas s ive c urios ity. T hen the thin bloodles s lips parted and he gave us the fulles t and m os t c harm ing of s m iles . 'Good m orning,' he intoned like a vic ar about to s tart the m orning s ervic e. A s one, we four ins pec tors got to our feet. 'Good m orning, Mr Carter,' we c horus ed - jus t like a c las s m ight welc om e a s c hool ins pec tor into their m ids t. S im on Carter was ted no tim e. 'Let us c om m enc e our dis c us s ion,' he s aid, plac ing a large blac k briefc as e on S idney's des k and pulling out a c hair. T he m eeting s tarted well with the S enior Ins pec tor des ignate telling us how pleas ed he was to have the opportunity of m eeting us , that he hoped we would all work together as a team , s upporting one another and pulling in the s am e direc tion to rais e s tandards of ac hievem ent in the c ounty's s c hools . W e had had about an hour of what I rec koned to be fairly c ons truc tive dis c us s ion when he plac ed his folded hands c arefully in front of him , like a pries t about to hear c onfes s ion, and s aid, 'I have to s ay, c olleagues , that there s eem s a great deal to be done. I have been appointed, as you are aware, to take the s ervic e forward, to breathe s om e fres h air into the departm ent and thus c hanges will be nec es s ary. It is often the c as e, I have found, that in large educ ation authorities , s uc h as this , whic h have been relatively s uc c es s ful in retaining high s tandards and whic h have rebuffed the pres s ures to jum p on every educ ational bandwagon that happens to roll up, that a c ertain c om plac enc y develops . T here is a general feeling that everything is working well - s o why c hange things ? T his c om plac enc y very often extends from the s enior offic ers right down to the hum ble c leaner of the S taff Developm ent Centre.' I c ould not res is t a s m ile and he pounc ed on it at onc e. 'Is there s om ething whic h am us es you, Gervas e?' as ked Mr Carter, like a teac her talking to a rec alc itrant c hild. 'Y es , there is ac tually,' I replied. 'Y ou have obvious ly not yet m et Connie.' 'Connie?' he repeated. 'W ho is Connie?' 'S he's the c leaner at the S taff Developm ent Centre and of all the words one c ould us e to des c ribe her, I think "c om plac ent" and "hum ble" would c om e near the very bottom of the lis t.' 'S he's like A ttila the Hun with a feather dus ter,' added S idney. 'A h, I rather think I have m et her,' s aid Mr Carter without a trac e of a s m ile. 'T here was a wom an in a pink overall and with a feather dus ter who was quite rude and abrupt with m e at the interviews . I apparently did s om ething whic h dis pleas ed her - ah, yes , I failed to return m y c up to the hatc h.' 'T hat's Connie,' s aid S idney, nodding. 'A nyway, that is by the by. W hat I was endeavouring to s ay,' he c ontinued, rather thrown by the interruption but not wis hing to deviate from his prepared s peec h, 'is that there is a tendenc y for large ins titutions whic h have plodded on in the s am e eas ygoing m anner for m any years and failed to m ove with the tim es , to bec om e m oribund.' 'Moribund?' m urm ured David. I c ould s ee he was beginning to bris tle with irritation. 'Y es , m oribund,' s aid Mr Carter. 'Moribund. Rather s et in its ways , unm oveable, lac king in vitality and verve.' 'I always thought "m oribund" m eant on the point of death,' obs erved S idney. 'W ell, I'm c ertainly not s aying that the departm ent is at death's door,' s tated Mr Carter, s ounding m ore c onc iliatory. 'It is jus t that s om e people, from what I have s een s o far, c annot think outs ide the box, s ee the big pic ture, go that extra m ile. Now, to be perfec tly hones t, I am not the s ort of pers on to c arry pas s engers . I want to em power people and put us at the c utting edge. I want a proac tive not a reac tive team .' 'Don't you think, Mr Carter,' s aid David, 'that it would be better to wait and s ee what you find before jum ping to c onc lus ions about the departm ent and m aking c hanges . T he c ounty has outs tanding ac adem ic res ults , exc ellent s c hools , a teac hing forc e s ec ond to none, s uperb initiatives , a whole range of projec ts . Now, if that is m oribund -' 'Mr P ritc hard, David,' interrupted Mr Carter, 'of c ours e I apprec iate all the hard work and have been m os t im pres s ed by the s plendid ac tivities whic h have taken plac e and I would be the las t pers on to denigrate the ins pec tors ' efforts , but I have read the c ounty doc um ents , guidelines and the s c hool reports em anating from this offic e, and from other departm ents at County Hall and there is , to be frank, room for im provem ent. W e m us t all work from the prem is e that we c an m ake things better.' 'I'm not s aying that everything is perfec t,' s tarted David. 'W hat I am s aying -' 'W hat's wrong with the reports ?' s napped S idney. 'T o be frank,' s aid Mr Carter, quietly but firm ly, 'I found the ins pec tors ' reports on s c hools c ertainly inform ative and, to s om e extent, us eful but they were too wordy, largely lac king in foc us and with a tendenc y to be far too anec dotal. I would like to s ee them s harper, m ore inc is ive. T hat is one of the reas ons why I wis hed to c ons ult with you before the s tart of the new term , to try and agree on a better s ys tem of reporting on s c hools .' 'A nd what form will this take, or rather what form do you feel it s hould take?' as ked Gerry. 'W ell, let m e explain, Geraldine,' he s aid, bec om ing genuinely enthus ias tic for the firs t tim e that m orning. 'In addition to your s c hool-vis it reports , in whic h you will c ontinue to outline the s c hool's s trengths and weaknes s es and is s ues for ac tion, I would like m ore reliable objec tive data rec orded. I would like to s et up s om e benc hm arks . T he work that Mrs S avage does for you - all thos e ques tionnaires and s urveys - are of little prac tic al us e.' S idney gave David a knowing look. I c ould tell what he was thinking. 'W hat I want to introduc e is a teac her-effec tivenes s inventory, a pupil-attitude ques tionnaire, a c las s room -c lim ate as s es s m ent and a res ourc es and m aterials audit. T hat s ort of thing. T hes e are the objec tive tools whic h will help us c reate, an extens ive databas e of inform ation and as s is t the s c hools in im proving their perform anc e. From this inform ation a league table c an then be devis ed -' 'S ounds like the football pools to m e,' s aid David. 'W ill we have prem ier s c hools , firs t divis ion s c hools , s ec ond divis ion s c hools ? W ill s c hools be relegated? W ill s c hools be able to buy teac hers as a football team buys players ? Can headteac hers be s ac ked like football m anagers ?' 'No, no, don't be fac ile,' s aid Mr Carter, 'but there will be an educ ational league table to enc ourage s c hools whic h are failing to try that bit harder, to go that extra m ile. If they are c om pared with m ore s uc c es s ful s c hools , plac ed in c om petition, s o to s peak, with others , the poor s c hools will s trive to im prove their perform anc e, don't you think?' 'No, not really,' replied David. 'I think it is m ore likely to be divis ive. It s eem s to m e pretty s elf-evident that S ir Cos m o's Gram m ar will always c om e near the top of the league and Crom pton S ec ondary S c hool will always be lingering near the bottom . T he pupils are of very differing abilities . It does n't m ean that one s c hool is better than the other. T hey are jus t different.' 'I think you are rather m is s ing the point,' s aid Mr Carter irritably. 'W hat I was endeavouring to explain -' 'Mr Carter, S im on,' s aid S idney, interrupting, 'we are, in addition to being ins pec tors , als o advis ers , c ouns ellors , c ritic al friends , Cours e providers , c urric ulum developers and m any m ore things . Don't you think that doing all thes e objec tive tes ts and as s es s m ents will take us away from one of our m ain tas ks - that of helping and s upporting teac hers ? A re we not in danger of s pending too m uc h tim e weighing the pig and not enough tim e feeding it?' Mr Carter s ighed. 'It is early days , S idney. I am s ure that when I am in pos t and in a pos ition to explain m y vis ion m ore c learly, you will bec om e c onvinc ed of the value of thes e c hanges .' He glanc ed at his watc h. 'W ell, I think this has been a m os t produc tive m eeting, don't you, but I m us t be on m y way. I have a s es s ion with Mrs S avage in a m om ent.' A num ber of eyebrows were rais ed at this dec laration. 'I'm going to touc h bas e with her and talk through m y gam e plan.' 'T hat s hould prove very interes ting,' m uttered David, undoubtedly s till s m arting at being told he was 'fac ile'. A nd that was that. Mr Carter told us how m uc h he was looking forward to working with us , wis hed us goodbye and departed. W hen J ulie entered the offic e a m om ent later s he found the four of us s itting at our des ks , s tunned into s ilenc e. 'Is everything all right?' s he as ked. 'P leas e don't s ay anything, Geraldine,' s aid S idney as his c olleague opened her m outh to s peak. 'J us t don't s ay a word.' T owards the end of that afternoon, I had a m eeting with Mis s de la Mare, HMI, at the S taff Developm ent Centre to dis c us s the 'Language and Literac y for Learning' initiative. S he was wearing a bright c rim s on s ilk s hirt and looked terrific . T o think how nervous we had all been when s he firs t took on our area for the Minis try. W e s at now in the s m all s taff room and s he took m e through m y report, s taring fixedly at the page on one point, oc c as ionally grunting with approval or nodding vigorous ly at other tim es . 'V ery thorough, Gervas e,' s he s aid at las t, c los ing the file. 'A very thorough and well-written doc um ent whic h will be extrem ely us eful when we put together the national fram ework. T hank you s o m uc h for taking all this trouble and s pending s o m uc h tim e.' S o m uc h for Mr Carter's c om m ents about our reports being 'too wordy and largely lac king in foc us '. I was beginning to feel better already. 'A c tually I found it very us eful and interes ting,' I s aid. 'I don't us ually have the opportunity of obs erving s c ienc e and m aths les s ons . It was really ins truc tive and, do you know, s om e of the very bes t oral work was in the art and tec hnology les s ons and s om e of the bes t written m aterial was in his tory and geography. It does n't always take plac e in E nglis h whic h was quite a s urpris e.' 'W ell, I hope we will be able to us e a c ouple of thes e reports as c as e s tudies . W hat I really like is the exam ples you quote and the enthus ias m for the really good les s ons . It m akes an otherwis e rather s erious and detailed text that bit m ore readable and interes ting. T he RE c happie s ounds s plendid.' S o m uc h for Mr Carter's c om m ents about our reports having 'a tendenc y to be far too anec dotal'. 'Mr Griffith?' I s aid. 'He was one in a m illion.' 'W ell, I'll get working on this next week when the other reports c om e in and let you s ee the draft before we go to print. I think we'll be able to produc e a very prac tic al and helpful doc um ent.' 'Muc h as I enjoyed working on this ,' I told Mis s de la Mare, 'I c ould do without another of Dr Gore's "little jobs " - for the tim e being anyway.' 'Don't worry, Gervas e,' s he c huc kled. 'I'll m ake c ertain nothing els e c om es your way. A fter all, you need to s pend tim e with that new wife of yours . A little bird, in the form of Dr Y eats , told m e you got m arried rec ently.' T hat's right.' 'T o that delightful young headteac her of W innery Nook, I believe. Y ou are a luc ky m an.' 'Don't I know it! ' 'W ell, c ongratulations . I hope you'll be very happy together.' 'T hanks ! T here have been real c hanges in m y life over the pas t few m onths and, of c ours e, there are likely to be m ore with the retirem ent of Harold Y eats .' 'A h yes , indeed,' s aid Mis s de la Mare. 'He will be greatly m is s ed. A true gentlem an, Dr Y eats .' 'A nd we have Mr S im on Carter s tepping into his s hoes next term .' 'S o I believe.' 'Do you know him ?' 'Oh yes ,' s he replied, I know Mr Carter. Our paths have c ros s ed on a num ber of oc c as ions . Dr Y eats will be greatly m is s ed.' Mis s de la Mare was obvious ly not going to elaborate about our new S I, for s he began pac king her papers away in her briefc as e. S he knows m ore, I thought, and dec ided to engage in a little s ubtle probing. 'I unders tand Mr Carter is very well qualified and experienc ed.' 'Y es , indeed,' replied Mis s de la Mare. 'He has am as s ed a great m any qualific ations over the years and pac ked a lot in. His c areer had been very varied.' 'From what he s aid at our m eeting with him this m orning, I think he is intent on m aking a great m any c hanges .' 'Oh, he is a great one for c hanges , is Mr Carter.' S he thought for a m om ent. 'Change is all very well, Gervas e, but c hange for c hange's s ake c an be very des truc tive.' 'How do you m ean?' 'If s om ething is working well, why c hange it? S om etim es it is bes t to leave well alone.' 'Has Mr Carter a reputation for c hanging things for the wors e, then?' I as ked. 'I've s aid too m uc h already. W hat I will s ay to you is that Mr S im on Carter is a very different kettle of fis h from Dr Y eats . W ell, I m us t be off, Gervas e. Many thanks again for all your hard work.' Having been buoyed up by Mis s de la Mare's prais e, I was now bac k in the doldrum s . T he s c enario for the ins pec tors looked s om ewhat bleak. I s tayed on for a while in the s taff room and thought about the day. How one's life and c areer c ould c hange s o dram atic ally, I thought. E verything had been s o perfec t: getting m arried to the m os t wonderful wom an in the world, finding the c ottage of our dream s , working with interes ting and friendly c olleagues in a job I really enjoyed - the future was filled with prom is e. Now, s uddenly, the future looked dis tinc tly wobbly. Having s at through the m eeting that m orning and lis tened to his plans for c hange, I knew that I was n't going to get on with S im on Carter. I jus t knew it. 'A re you going to be long?' It was Connie s tanding at the door, brandis hing the larges t bottle of bleac h I had ever s een. 'I've done m y s urfac es and jus t have the Gents to do, and then I want to get off. It's m y bingo night tonight. I like everything to be s hip-s hape and B ris tol fas hion before I knoc k off.' 'I won't be long, Connie,' I s aid. 'I would have thought you would have been off long ago, you being newly m arried and all.' 'I was jus t thinking.' 'I try not to,' Connie s aid. 'It only c aus es you to worry and whittle, does thinking. I went through m y father's papers las t week and I c ouldn't s top thinking. I put all the papers in a box when we c leared his hous e and I jus t c ouldn't bear to touc h them . T ed took all his c lothes down to the Oxfam s hop and his bits and piec es have been s hared between m y s is ters and m ys elf. He didn't have m uc h to s how for all his years in the arm y and his tim e down the pit. A nyway, T ed s aid we ought to s ort his papers out s oon or we'd never do it. Looking through all the old photos and letters got m e to thinking. T hinking about things I never s aid to him and wis hed I had, thinking about things I did s ay to him and wis hed I hadn't, thinking about the tim es we had when m e and m y s is ters were little and Dad us ed to take us down the park or up the c lough. A nd I rem em bered what he s aid to T ed when I brought him hom e for the firs t tim e. "T here'll be no hanky panky," he told him . "S he's a good las s is m y Cons tanc e and s he's been brought up proper." It did ups et m e, s eeing all thos e photos and looking through all them letters and papers .' Connie put down the bottle of bleac h, and wiped a tear away with a tis s ue brought out of the poc ket of her pink nylon overall. 'W e found this little orange wallet with the addres s of the W ar Offic e on the front. It was his s us tific ate for em ploym ent for when he c am e out of the arm y. He was wounded twic e, was Dad, los t two fingers and was hos pitalis ationed for two m onths and he won m edals . His c olonel - Dad was in the Fourth B attalion, Duke of W ellington's W es t Riding Regim ent - had to give a c harac ter referenc e and he'd written on it, "Lanc e Corporal W ood is s ober and hones t (as far as I know)". "A s far as I know", I as k you! He des erved better than that, did Dad. I was c rying half the night.'

'I do and I am .' 'W ell, I'll leave you to finis h off here, Connie,' I s aid. 'I hope you haven't m is s ed your bingo.' 'I'm not s ure I'll bother to go now. It's not that I ever win anything. Oh, before you go, I s aw that nun las t week at the bus s top and s he as ked to be rem em bered to you. T hat S is ter B renda.' 'S is ter B rendan.' 'A nd do you know, s he was dres s ed like a nun for onc e. A ll in blac k and white like a big m agpie, s he was . I didn't rec ognis e her at firs t bec aus e every tim e s he's been here for one of your c ours es or m eetings , s he's been in a s uit like the ones that air hos tes s es wear. I m ean, I never knew s he was a nun until you s aid. S kirt was nearly up to her knees and s he had nothing on her head s ave for a bit of a s c arf. A nyway, s he was there at the bus s top in full rig, with a big bunc h of gladioli under her arm . W e got c hatting and s he s aid s he was off to S t W alburga's to do the altar flowers . I us ed to do the flowers at our c hurc h, you know, but the new young vic ar gets hay fever s om ething terrible s o it's all teas els and dried twigs now. W hat was I s aying?' 'A bout the nun at the bus s top,' I prom pted her. 'Oh yes . W ell, while we was s tanding there at the bus s top this tram p c om es up. He looked as if he'd been dragged through a hedge bac kwards and then thrown in the c anal before being left to dry in the s un. A nd s m ell! He bypas s es all the others in the queue and m akes s traight for the nun. S o he as ks S is ter B renda if s he c ould s pare a few old c oppers for a poor gentlem an of the road. S he gave him s hort s hift, I c an tell you. Cours e, s eeing a nun, I s uppos e he m us t have thought he was on to a s oft touc h and m ade a beeline for her. A nyhow, s he tells him he was getting no old c oppers from her bec aus e he would only s pend it on the drink. W ell, you would not believe the language that c am e out of his m outh and in front of a nun as well. "S tanding there, holier than thou," he s houts , "dres s ed in yer s o and s o nun's habit with your s o and s o gladioli s tuc k under your s o and s o arm ." It would have m ade a s tevedore blus h. It c aus ed m e to c olour up, I c an tell you, and I've heard s om e foul language in m y tim e, s pec ially when I was on the c as hews when I worked at the roas ted nut fac tory. S is ter B renda didn't blink an eyelid. S he held on to her gladioli and jus t told him to be on his way and s top us ing profantities . W ell, he s tarted on again at her, c urs ing and s wearing and heffing and blinding and telling her s he ought to be as ham ed of wearing a nun's habit, looking all innoc ent with thos e s o and s o gladioli s tuc k under her arm . S he was s uppos ed to be walking in the foots teps of J es us , he tells her. "If you don't m ove on," s he told him , "I'll be walking all the way down to the polic e s tation to get you arres ted. If you want s om ething to eat and a warm drink," s he tells him , "you c om e down the c onvent, but you are not getting any m oney from m e to s pend on alc ohol." W ell, that s topped him . J us t then the bus arrived and we thought we'd s een the bac k of him but when we c lim bed on, he was right there behind us . W ell, I nearly died. He s tands there at the end of the ais le and s houts the full length of the bus . "I c an s ee you s itting there on yer holy s o and s o," he s ays to the nun and then he s tarts quoting s c ripture. "Y ou c am e into this world naked, s is ter," he s houts , "and you'll go out of this world naked, but you'll s till have them bloody gladioli tuc ked under your arm ." I m ean, we all had to laugh and the loudes t was S is ter B renda hers elf. I never knew that nuns had a s ens e of hum our.' T hat evening I s nuggled up with Chris tine on the old s ofa we had bought from Roper's S aleroom . W e had s pent an hour s tripping faded and peeling wallpaper off the bedroom walls and were relaxing before returning to the flat in Fettles ham for s upper. S he res ted her head on m y c hes t. 'Y ou're in a very pens ive m ood,' s he s aid. 'Chris , what would you s ay if I s aid I wanted to look for another job?' 'I thought you had got over not being s hortlis ted for the S enior Ins pec tor's pos t.' 'I have.' 'W ell, what's brought all this on, then?' 'Oh, I don't know. I jus t feel with Harold going things are going to c hange.' 'W ell, of c ours e things are going to c hange. T here's nothing wrong with c hange. Y ou've c hanged into a happily-m arried m an-I hope-and we're going to c hange this c ottage. T hings need to c hange. T hings c an't s tay the s am e for ever.' 'S om e things don't need to c hange, though. Y ou wouldn't want the view from this window to c hange, for exam ple, would you?' 'T hat's different.' 'E xac tly. S om e c hanges are for the good, but others are not. T he thing is , I think work is going to c hange for the wors e when Harold goes .' 'W hy do you s ay that?' 'T he new S I c am e in today and none of us really like him .' 'I thought you did?' 'W e did at firs t but after the m eeting today we c hanged our m inds . He's s ingle-m inded and it's c lear he wants his own way and everyone to agree with him . He's a s ys tem s m an and, wors t of all, he s eem s c om pletely hum ourles s .' 'W ow! ' exc laim ed Chris tine. 'Y ou really don't like him , do you?' 'A ll he talks about is apprais al and as s es s m ent and tes ts and audits . He rarely m entions c hildren. He's hell-bent on bringing in thes e dreadful form -filling proc edures . It s ounds a nightm are. It's not what I c am e into this job for. I want to work with teac hers and c hildren, not be pen-pus hing m orning, noon and night.' 'Give the poor m an a c hanc e. He has n't even s tarted yet.' 'T hat's what I s aid to S idney, but then I got talking to Delia Mare - you know, the HMI who has been working on the 'Language and Literac y' projec t - and s he dropped a few none-too-s ubtle hints about him ,' 'S uc h as ?' 'W ell, that he is big on c hange and then s he s aid in a pointed way that s om e c hanges c an be des truc tive. S he s aid he is a very different kettle of fis h from Harold.' 'Harold's pretty s pec ial, though, is n't he? Y ou c an't expec t his s uc c es s or to be a c arbon c opy of Harold.' 'I don't expec t that. It's jus t that I know I'm not going to get on with S im on Carter. None of us will. I don't think he will be a good bos s to work for.' 'T here wouldn't be a few s our grapes here, would there?' as ked Chris tine. 'Not at all. Hey, Chris , you're s uppos ed to be s ym pathetic and unders tanding and -' 'A gree with everything you s ay? Look, love, I'm s orry you are feeling depres s ed about this but it's early days yet. If this ogre of a new S enior Ins pec tor does turn out to be diffic ult and dem anding and you begin to hate the job, then you c an think about a m ove. B ut let's not rus h into things . W e've jus t got m arried and will be m oving in here in a few weeks ' tim e. I don't intend giving up work s o it would be a bit s illy, don't you think, to s tart looking for other jobs . Give the m an a c hanc e.' S he looked up with thos e great blue eyes . 'OK ?' 'I s uppos e s o,' I replied. 'Now, I've got s om ething really really im portant to as k you before we go bac k to Fettles ham ?' 'W hat?' 'Did you rem em ber to do the s hopping, Mr P hinn? I think you s aid you would c ook tonight.'

15s A few days before the half-term break, I was due at P ope P ius X Rom an Catholic P rim ary S c hool in the little m arket town of Ribs dyke. I was looking forward to the vis it bec aus e I was going to be ac c om panied by a m an I m uc h adm ired, Lord Marric k, a m an whom I had originally m et in the s tranges t of c irc um s tanc es . A pheas ant had jus t s hattered m y winds c reen as I was driving along a narrow road on m y way to vis it a Dales ' s c hool, and the pers on who c lim bed over the drys tone wall a m om ent later to c laim his bird turned out to be V alentine Courtnay-Cunningham e, 9th E arl Marric k, V is c ount Mans ton, B aron B rafferton, MC, DL. One vis it I had m ade with Lord Marric k was s oon after he had been appointed the repres entative on the Governing B ody of P ope P ius X Rom an Catholic P rim ary S c hool. T hat firs t vis it had not been without inc ident for he had bec om e apoplec tic about the run-down c ondition of the prem is es . 'Y ou ins pec tors are s uppos ed to c om m ent on the poor s tate of buildings and the effec ts upon the c hildren's educ ation,' he had told m e s ternly. 'T he whole plac e wants pulling down and rebuilding.' Lord Marric k had then prom is ed the headteac her that he would be c ontac ting Dr Gore when he returned to the E duc ation Departm ent and would ens ure that im provem ents would be put in hand. Lord Marric k had been true to his word. I c ollec ted Lord Marric k now from the S m all Com m ittee Room of County Hall and we were s oon heading for the rolling hills of the Dales , leaving behind the nois e and bus tle of Fettles ham . W e were going to attend the opening of the new s c hool building, a developm ent whic h was largely the res ult of Lord Marric k's s trenuous efforts on the s c hool's behalf. 'Have you m et the new S enior Ins pec tor, then?' he as ked, s troking his im pres s ive walrus m ous tac he. 'Y es , we had a m eeting with him right at the beginning of this term ,' I replied. 'S eem s a dec ent s ort of c hap.' 'Y es ,' I replied. 'He's a very c lever m an by all ac c ounts .' 'V ery c lever.' A bit too c lever by half, I thought to m ys elf. I was s till feeling rather apprehens ive after that m eeting but, as I had prom is ed Chris tine, had not given any m ore thought to finding a new job. 'W ell qualified, too. A ll thes e letters after his nam e, degrees in this , diplom as in that, m em ber of this , fellow of that. I thought I'd m et a kindred s pirit when I s aw one s et of letters after his nam e. T hought he was a m em ber of the B ull B reeders ' A s s oc iation, too. B ut then realis ed it was MB A not MB B A .' He c huc kled. I s m iled, too, thinking of the intens e-looking m an with the pierc ing eyes and dres s ed im m ac ulately in a des igner s uit trying to lead a fris ky bull in from the field. 'MB A indic ates a Mas ter of B us ines s A dm inis tration degree,' I inform ed Lord Marric k. 'It's a top qualific ation.' 'S o I gather. T hen he has thos e other letters - B A A . I told him that it s ounded like a degree in s heep-s hearing but I don't think he was am us ed.' No, I thought, it wouldn't am us e our Mr Carter. I wondered what, if anything, w ould am us e him . 'I think that is yet another qualific ation in ac c ounts and adm inis tration,' I s aid. 'W ell, he s eem s to be very experienc ed in m anagem ent and s upervis ion.' He'll get on well with Mrs S avage then, I thought was pis hly. T hey talk the s am e language. 'Y es ,' I rem arked, hoping we c ould leave this partic ular topic of c onvers ation. I was finding it hugely depres s ing. 'Gave a very im pres s ive pres entation and his interview was a tour de forc e. Never s een Counc illor George P eters on s tuc k for words . He jus t s at and s tared like a T oby jug. Mr Carter was never s tum ped for an ans wer and s eem s to have done jus t about everything there is to do in the educ ational field.' A s m uc h as I liked the jovial Lord Marric k, this c hatter about S im on Carter was m aking m e feel very des pondent. 'Really,' I replied. 'B een a headm as ter, advis er, lec turer, m anagem ent c ons ultant. One wonders what he wanted to bec om e a s c hool ins pec tor in Y orks hire for. Mus t like the s c enery.' 'Y es , indeed,' I s aid. 'Y ou're very quiet this m orning, Gervas e. Cat m us t have got your tongue. Is it bec aus e you were not c ons idered for the pos ition?' Lord Marric k was nothing if not blunt. 'Is that what's getting you down? Dr Gore did m ention that you had put in an applic ation.' Oh no, I thought. I hope he's not going to be another on the long lis t of people to tell m e I hadn't had enough experienc e for s uc h a s enior pos ition, that I s hould look on the bright s ide, that m y tim e would c om e. 'I did apply, Lord Marric k, yes , that's true,' I replied. 'I was dis appointed, of c ours e, but -' 'Y ou need a few m ore years under your belt yet, if you don't m ind m e s aying.' 'No, of c ours e not.' 'Hardly got your feet under the table. T akes that m uc h longer in the Dales , you know, than in other parts of the c ountry, for people to get to know you. It takes s om e tim e to get us ed to "off-c om ed-uns ", as they s ay. My fam ily are jus t about ac c epted by the loc als and we've been here s inc e the tim e of the Norm ans . Give it a few m ore years .' 'I will,' I replied. 'T hank you for the advic e.' 'I hope it does n't s ound like advic e. I was m erely m aking an obs ervation. I was always told by m y father never to give uns olic ited advic e - the c lever m an does n't need it and the foolis h m an never takes it.' I c ontinued to drive with m y eyes firm ly on the road, pas t grey-s tone farm hous es and c ottages , long hedgerows in bright new leaf, and the fields s tudded with hawthorn trees in luxuriant blos s om . Des pite all this beauty, whic h would norm ally lift m y s pirits s ky-high, I jus t felt in the dum ps . 'Y es , he has m ore degrees than a therm om eter, has Mr Carter,' rem arked Lord Marric k. 'A very c lever m an.' 'He s ounds it,' I replied. 'Of c ours e, I never pulled up any roots at s c hool, you know,' Lord Marric k adm itted, twis ting the ends of his m ous tac he. 'S ent away at nine, I was , m other c rying her eyes out at the s tation, nanny having hys teric s , s is ters c linging on to m e for dear life, father telling m e to keep m y c hin up, s tiff upper lip and all that. P retty bleak thos e firs t c ouple of years , I don't m ind telling you. T hen I got into s port. S pent m os t of m y tim e on the rugger or c ric ket pitc h after that, and the hardes t work I did was to ens ure that I attended the m inim um num ber of les s ons . My grands on found m y old s c hool report a few weeks ago. One of the m as ters had written: "Now I have dec iphered Courtnay-Cunningham e's s pidery s c ribble, I have dis c overed that he is unable to s pell." Not a lot of laughs when I was at s c hool. I do think it's im portant to have a s ens e of hum our. T here's enough doom and gloom in the world. A good laugh does you good, that's what I always think.' He thought for a m om ent, then s aid, 'Y ou know, this new c hap, Carter, was a bit of a s erious c ove. I hope he's going to be all right.' S o do I, I thought to m ys elf. S o do I. W e s oon arrived at the s c hool and its new appearanc e c am e as quite a s hoc k. I had not vis ited P ope P ius X P rim ary for a c ouple of years and, at that tim e, it was a featureles s building whic h had been erec ted jus t after the war and, indeed, had had the appearanc e of an arm y barrac ks . It was a big s urpris e, therefore, to s ee s uc h a trans form ation. T here now s tood a hands om e red-bric k building with long pic ture windows and an orange pantile roof. T he area around the s c hool had been lands c aped and s c rubby lawn and c rac ked paving had been replac ed with a s pac ious play area with benc hes and pic nic tables , s urrounded by flowering s hrubs and young newly-planted trees . Lord Marric k c lam bered from the c ar, put his hands on his wide hips , s urveyed the building with great s atis fac tion and growled, 'Not bloody bad, eh?' T he entranc e hall to the s c hool was very different as well. On m y previous vis it I had been rem inded m ore of a hos pital than a s c hool. Now the area was brightly dec orated and an eye-c atc hing m ural, depic ting happy c hildren, s tretc hed the full length of the wall. T here were m odern tables and c hairs , tall glas s dis play panels , attrac tively fram ed prints and, in pride of plac e, a large portrait of P ope P ius X with arm s outs tretc hed and eyes looking heavenwards . Mrs Callaghan, the headteac her, was an attrac tive wom an with friendly eyes and light s andy hair tied bac k. S he hurried ac ros s the hall to greet us . 'Lord Marric k, Mr P hinn,' s he panted in an am iable voic e. 'It's s o nic e to s ee you again.' W e followed her into her room and lis tened as s he outlined the program m e for the afternoon. Firs t, we would attend as s em bly, then be given a tour of the s c hool. A t the end of the afternoon, when the governors and parents had arrived, everyone would gather in the s c hool hall and Lord Marric k would undertake the offic ial opening of the new building. I was repres enting Dr Gore and had nothing to do but m ingle and be pleas ant. I was s till not, however, feeling in a very pleas ant fram e of m ind. Lord Marric k and I c hos e to s it at the bac k of the new s c hool hall and watc hed the c hildren enter - s m art, c heerful and well behaved - to the taped s trains of s om e lively m artial m us ic . I have s pent m any an hour obs erving s c hool as s em blies and have heard c ountles s hom ilies from head-teac hers . S om e have been tedious affairs with rows of wriggling, inattentive c hildren and bored teac hers having to endure a ram bling headteac her who frequently finis hes by launc hing into a good telling-off about s om e infringem ent to the s c hool rules . Other as s em blies have been ins pirational and thought-provoking, c apturing the c hildren's interes ts and im aginations . T he as s em bly I watc hed that afternoon was one of the latter. 'Good afternoon, c hildren,' s aid Mrs Callaghan c heerfully. 'Good afternoon, Mrs Callaghan, good afternoon, everyone,' c horus ed the c hildren. 'I would like to extend a very s pec ial welc om e today to our two im portant vis itors , E arl Marric k and Mr Gervas e P hinn. Later this afternoon, c hildren, Lord Marric k will be offic ially opening our new building and unveiling a plaque to c elebrate the rebirth of P ope P ius X S c hool. It is a very im portant day for us .' W hat followed was as if Mrs Callaghan had c hos en her words jus t for m e. 'W e always dream t of a new s c hool,' s he s aid, looking around the bright new hall. 'W e always dream t of light, airy c las s room s , long c olourful c orridors , a well-s toc ked library with a c arpet and c us hions and eas y c hairs . W e always dream t of a s ports field and a playground, a m odern kitc hen, s parkling toilets and, m os t es pec ially, a s pac ious s c hool hall with high walls and a polis hed wooden floor. S om e thought it would rem ain jus t a dream , jus t an idea that would never c om e true. W e have had s o m any dis appointm ents along the way, s o m any hurdles and detours and s tands tills , and there have been m any tim es when we have felt like giving up. B ut we didn't. W e believed in our dream and today our dream has c om e true. In an hour's tim e, our new s c hool will be offic ially opened.' T he head-teac her paus ed for a m om ent to c om pos e hers elf. S he was c learly finding this quite an em otional oc c as ion. 'A ll of you will have your dream s and you m us t never, never give up on them , for dream s do c om e true. In your own lives , c hildren, there will be tim es when you have worked s o hard for s om ething and all your efforts s eem to c om e to nothing. T im es when you have walked a thous and s teps towards your goal only to find yours elf bac k in the plac e from where you s tarted. A t tim es like thes e, you will feel dis appointed, let down, bewildered. Y ou will feel like giving up and as king yours elf if there is any point in c arrying on. W ell, you m us t c arry on. Y ou m us t c ontinue to believe in yours elf and you m us t, we all m us t, follow our dream s .' Mrs Callaghan then went on to talk about various events whic h would take plac e over the next week, and this gave m e tim e to think about what s he had s aid. I realis ed jus t how s elfis h and ungrateful it was of m e to be s o pes s im is tic and downhearted. W hat had I got to be s o m is erable about? I had a beautiful new wife, a lovely c ottage and a good job and here I was feeling s orry for m ys elf. I had to adm it that I was s till s m arting at not being even interviewed for the S enior Ins pec tor's job but they had all been right - Chris tine, Harold, Dr Gore and now Lord Marric k. It was far too s oon for m e to go applying for s uc h a s enior pos ition and m y tim e would s urely c om e. * A fter as s em bly, Lord Marric k and I were taken on a tour of the s c hool by two of the older pupils , a s m all blac k boy of about ten and a pale-fac ed girl with raven-blac k hair and the blues t of eyes . 'Hello Mr P hinn, hello Mr Marric k,' s aid the boy. 'W e're your guides .' 'Hello,' s aid Lord Marric k, c huc kling. 'A nd what's your nam e?' 'A nthony, but you c an c all m e T ony. E verybody els e does ,' replied the boy. 'A nd this is B ernadette.' 'How are you doing?' as ked the girl, in the lightes t of Iris h lilts . 'W e are doing jus t fine, are we not, Mr P hinn?' 'I rec ognis e you,' I told the girl. 'W hen we c am e into this s c hool a c ouple of years ago you were writing a lovely poem about a hors e.' 'Good grac ious ! ' c ried Lord Marric k. 'T hat's right, I rem em ber. I've s till got the c opy you gave m e.' 'Oh yes , I rem em ber,' s aid the girl with a tilt of her head and a dis arm ing s m ile. 'A nd I rem em ber s howing you the toilets , too, where the dam p on the wall was in the s hape of a big green m ons ter. W ould you be wanting to s ee the girls ' toilets now? T hey're new and s hiny and there's no leaks anywhere.' 'I don't think that is a plac e we are intending to vis it today, m y dear,' explained Lord Marric k. 'It is all tiled and painted now. It's a pleas ure going to the toilet, s o it is .' T he 9th E arl Marric k, V is c ount Mans ion, B aron B rafferton, who lived at Mans ion Hall, one of the c ounty's m os t m agnific ent hous es , s m iled benignly. 'I'll take your word for it, m y dear,' he replied. 'W ould you like to follow us ,' s aid the boy, who had been getting inc reas ingly im patient with a c onvers ation from whic h he m us t have felt exc luded, 'and we'll take you on a tour of the s c hool.' 'A nd if there's anything you want to as k,' added the girl, 'jus t go ahead. A s m y m other would s ay, "If you don't as k, you'll never get to know."' 'W e will,' s aid Lord Marric k as we followed the two s m all figures who headed off down the c orridor at a c rac king pac e. W e went from c las s room to c las s room , looked in at the s m all library, exam ined the kitc hens and, to pleas e B ernadette, even put our heads into the new c loakroom s . On our way bac k to the s taff room for a c up of tea, Lord Marric k beam ed with pleas ure at the c hildren. 'W ell, that was s plendid. Y ou have both been exc ellent guides .' 'My brother's c alled E arl, you know,' announc ed T ony. 'Is he really?' replied Lord Marric k. 'Y eah. Y ou're the only other E arl I've ever m et apart from m y brother.' 'W ell, it's a pretty good nam e, I think.' 'A re you fam ous ?' as ked the boy. 'No, I'm not fam ous ,' replied the peer. 'Mrs Callaghan s aid you were fam ous .' 'Have you heard of m e?' 'No.' 'W ell then, I c an't be fam ous , c an I?' 'No, I don't s uppos e you c an.' T ony turned his attention to m e. 'A re y ou anybody, then?' the boy as ked. 'No, I'm not anybody, either,' I replied, am us ed by this interrogation. T he boy, obvious ly unim pres s ed, turned bac k to Lord Marric k. 'Mrs Callaghan s aid you were fam ous .' 'W ell, I'm very s orry to have to dis appoint you, young m an,' Lord Marric k told him , 'but s he is s adly m is taken. I'm not fam ous at all.' 'I brought m y autograph book m s pec ially,' s aid the boy, looking dis appointed. 'I s ee,' s aid Lord Marric k, s c ratc hing his outc rop of hair. 'W ell, would you like m e to s ign it?' 'No, bec aus e you're not fam ous . W ell, it's been nic e m eeting you. Now, I've got to get bac k to m y c las s . B ye.' He gave a wave and was gone. Lord Marric k laughed and turned to m e. 'I rec kon that if P ope P ius him s elf walked through that door, he'd find it pretty diffic ult to get into that young m an's autograph book.' 'Could I as k you s om ething, Mr Marric k?' c am e a s m all voic e from behind us . W e had forgotten all about B ernadette. 'Of c ours e you c an, m y dear,' replied Lord Marric k. 'If you don't as k, you'll never get to know.' 'Is that m ous tac he real, or have you put it on for today, it being a s pec ial oc c as ion an' all?' Lord Marric k and I now m ade our way to the s taff room where the s c hool governors were gathered with Mrs Callaghan and the teac hers . 'Good afternoon, Mr P hinn,' s aid an elderly, quietly-s poken pries t dres s ed in a c as s oc k whic h had s een better days . 'Good afternoon, Father.' 'Delightful oc c as ion, is n't it?' rem arked the pries t. 'W e have s o m uc h to be thankful for. I do hope you will pers onally c onvey our gratitude to Dr Gore and the E duc ation Com m ittee for m aking this pos s ible. S uc h a beautiful new building, don't you think?' 'Y es , it's very different from the old one. I don't think it had ever c ros s ed the original arc hitec t's m ind that it was a s c hool he was des igning and not a tem porary arm y barrac ks .' 'A h well,' s aid the pries t, 'one s houldn't be too hard on him . I im agine he was c ons trained by financ ial c ons iderations . I am s ure that if m oney had been no objec t we would have had an attrac tive, s pac ious building. Y ou s ee, the s c hool was c ons truc ted, like s o m any pos t-war Catholic s c hools , largely as a res ult of the efforts of the Catholic c om m unity hereabouts who rais ed the m oney. I'm afraid it didn't go far. It's s o good to s ee the E duc ation Departm ent taking s uc h an ac tive interes t in the s c hool and providing us with this wonderful building. I'm Father Leonard, by the way. I don't think we've m et.' 'A h, the Father Leonard! ' I c ried. 'Y ou m us t be Mons ignor Leonard's brother.' T he pries t's wrinkled fac e broke into a great grin. 'Oh no, Mr P hinn, he's m ine! ' S om e tim e later, after having done m y duty and talked to the governors , I joined Lord Marric k who was holding s way over a group of teac hers . T he s ubjec t under dis c us s ion appeared to be an interview whic h, a s hort tim e ago, would have depres s ed m e im m ens ely but now the blac k c loud had lifted and I was in a m uc h better fram e of m ind. In fac t, I was feeling pos itively buoyant. 'I was jus t telling the pres ent c om pany, Mr P hinn,' s aid Lord Marric k, m oving his bulk to allow m e to s tand bes ide him , 'that we were talking on the way over here this afternoon about the appointm ent of the new S enior Ins pec tor and all thos e letters he has after his nam e. Father Leonard here was rec alling that the headteac her before Mrs Callaghan had a s im ilar s tring of qualific ations .' 'B ut you appointed m e, Father,' s aid Mrs Callaghan, 'with jus t a teac hing c ertific ate and not a degree to m y nam e.' 'W e did,' s aid the pries t, 'and we c ertainly m ade the right dec is ion. It's not the qualific ations that m atter in the long run. It's the c alibre of the pers on. Indeed, the greates t teac her of all had no letters to His nam e.' 'Y es , indeed,' s aid Lord Marric k, 'yes , indeed. I don't m ind s aying, Mrs Callaghan, and you have heard m e s aying this on a num ber of oc c as ions , that you run a c rac king good s c hool.' 'A nd that was a c rac king good as s em bly earlier on,' I added. It had c ertainly given m e food for thought. A t the end of the s c hool day, Lord Marric k c ut a long length of bright blue ribbon fixed ac ros s the entranc e to the hall, pulled a s ilk c ord to unc over a plaque s et in the wall, and m ade a s hort but elegant s peec h. T hen, as the c hildren s weetly s ang s om e c ountry s ongs , I s at blis s fully lis tening to their c lear, innoc ent voic es whils t s taring beyond them through the large pic ture window at the s weeping green dale beyond. One bright early J une S aturday m orning, Chris tine and I m oved into P eewit Cottage, s aying a thankful farewell to the flat over T he Rum bling T um c afe and the c ooking s m ells that wafted m alodorous ly up the s tairs . T he wood-worm and dam p treatm ent on the c ottage, the re-pointing, re-plas tering and redec orating had jus t about c leaned out our bank ac c ount but we c ouldn't have been happier. T he s un was s hining, the birds were s inging and we were s o exc ited at the pros pec t of s tarting our m arried life in our very own hom e. I had hired a van on the previous S aturday and, with David's help, had m oved the bits of furniture whic h Chris tine had inherited from her great-aunt. T here was a c hes t-of-drawers , rather wors e for wear, two thread-bare eas y c hairs , a large drop-leaf dining table and s ix ladderbac k c hairs . My s is ter had donated s om e pots and pans , c arpets and c urtains ; m y brother Mic hael had pres ented us with a s ideboard and S idney had arrived unannounc ed one evening at m y flat with an as s ortm ent of c utlery, garden tools , s helves and rugs . 'I've been having a c lear out in the garage, dear boy,' he had told m e, 'and thought s om e of thes e m ight c om e in handy.' T he final artic le of furniture we needed to buy was a bed. T he S unday before we m oved into the c ottage, Chris tine and I s pent a m orning brows ing around Roper's S aleroom in Collington. Roper's , auc tioneers of fine quality furniture, paintings and effec ts , was hous ed in an im pres s ive red-bric k building s et bac k from the road. T he m ain room , where the auc tions took plac e, was c ram m ed with the m os t wonderful antique furniture: Regenc y m ahogany s ideboards , delic ate inlaid ros ewood tables , c hiffoniers , s atinwood des ks , E dwardian wing arm c hairs , bow-fronted c upboards , V ic torian balloon-bac ked c hairs , A rt Nouveau dis play c abinets , ornately-c arved m arble fire m antels and tall, highly-polis hed grandfather c loc ks . A ll of it was way out of our pric e range. A nd then we s aw the bed. It took up an inordinate am ount of s pac e at the s ide of the s aleroom and, s urrounded by s uc h exquis ite furniture, looked am azingly plain and ugly with its dark oak headboard, thic k buttoned m attres s and heavy s quare legs . 'W hat do you think?' I as ked. 'It's a bit large,' Chris tine replied, 'and it's not the m os t elegant of piec es , is it?' 'Looks aren't everything,' I pointed out.

'It's very c om fortable,' I told her, s itting on the thic k m attres s and bounc ing up and down. 'A m odern bed wouldn't fit in. A c ottage the age of ours needs to have older furniture and this is really well-m ade. I c an tell. It will las t for ever, this bed.' 'I have no doubt about that,' Chris tine rem arked, giving a wry s m ile. 'W ell, s hall we s tay for the auc tion and s ee what it goes for? I m ean, it will probably be well out of our pric e range anyway.' W hen had we s aid that before? W e s hould have learned by now. S o we s tayed for the auc tion and s at through item after item , m os t of whic h fetc hed an exorbitant pric e. 'Ours is the next lot after this one,' I whis pered to Chris tine. 'I really don't know whether we s hould bid, Gervas e,' s he s aid. 'A re you really s ure about this ?' 'Lot 367,' the auc tioneer intoned. 'A unique nineteenth-c entury Louis X IV -s tyle burr walnut and ebony banded c abinet with dec orative s tringing and orm olu m ounts . T his is a very s pec ial piec e, ladies and gentlem en. I would as k you to note, in partic ular, the enc hanting oval jas perwear plaques ins et in the doors , the beautifully-turned pierc ed gallery bac k rails and the delightful gilt m etal s tatuettes on the s m all plinths . T he rope-twis t beading and the m irrored bac k unders helf are, as you c an s ee, in im m ac ulate c ondition. S hall we s tart the bidding at s ay, P S 500?' B idding was bris k and the c abinet was s oon s old. 'Lot 368. A turn-of-the-c entury s olidly c ons truc ted, iron-fram ed and im pres s ively large bed in oak. S hall we s tart the bidding at P S 100?' 'I am not s ure about that bed,' Chris tine s aid, later that evening. 'I s till think we s hould have gone for s om ething m ore m odern.' 'W ell, it's too late now,' I told her. 'W e've bought it and Roper's are delivering it next S aturday. It m ay not be a Louis X IV m as terpiec e but I think we got a real bargain.' 'B y the tim e we've bought a new m attres s , it won't be s o m uc h of a bargain,' s aid Chris tine, who had ins is ted we threw away the old m attres s . 'B ut, I agree, it's a great bed.' T he bed arrived the day we m oved in. I was exc hanging pleas antries with m y neighbour, Harry Cotton, over the drys tone wall when a huge dark-green rem oval van bearing the words 'Roper's A uc tioneers of Dis tinc tion' printed in gold lettering on the s ide drew up outs ide the c ottage. 'More furniture, then,' obs erved Harry, s c ratc hing his s hoc k of white hair. 'A t this rate, you won't have room to s wing a dorm ous e.' 'J us t a bed,' I replied. 'A ahh, well,' he c huc kled, tapping his beak of a nos e and winking theatric ally. 'T ha'll be needing a bed an' no m is take. I rec kon you and yer new m is s us '11 be putting that to good us e, if tha follows m y drift.' I did not wis h to follow his drift and went to greet the three m en in green overalls , with the Roper's logo em broidered in yellow, who had jus t jum ped out of the van. 'Mr P hinn?' as ked a young m an with c los ely-c ropped, dyed blond hair and a large gold s tud in his ear. 'T hat's right,' I replied. 'W e're here with the bed. W here do you want it?' 'W here do you think he wants it?' bayed Harry Cotton, s houting over the wall. 'In m y experienc e, beds go in t'bedroom s , s ithee.' 'OK , granddad,' s aid the young m an. 'K eep your hair on. I was jus t as king.' T hen he as ked Harry m is c hievous ly, 'A re you going to give us a lift with it, then?' 'A m I 'ell as like,' he s aid. 'I've had a double hernia, m e. Not a s ingle one, m ind, but a double, and t'eavies t thing I lift thes e days is a pint o' bitter.' T he three m en, with m y help, s truggled and s trained to get the bed out of the rem oval van and we dum ped it at the door of the c ottage. It looked gigantic . 'It's a fair old s ize,' panted one of the m en, s itting on the bed's iron fram e, 'A nd a fair old weight, as well,' added another, joining him . 'Do you think you'll get it through the door?' I as ked apprehens ively. 'It looks a lot bigger here than it did in the s aleroom .' 'W e'll get it in through the door, no trouble,' s aid the young m an with the s hort hair and the s tud. 'W e c an up-end it. Getting it up the s tairs is a different m atter altogether.' 'W ell, they got it down,' s aid Harry as he obs erved proc eedings from the wall. 'S o they m us t 'ave got it up.' 'How do you m ean?' I as ked. Harry rubbed his c hin and c oc ked his head in the direc tion of the c ottage. 'T hat theer bed what you 'ave jus t bought, belonged to old Mrs Ollerans haw. It us ed to be in her front bedroom .' 'Mrs Ollerans haw! ' I exc laim ed. 'T he old lady who owned the c ottage before us ?' 'T he very s am e.' 'B ut I thought you told m e s he had died two years ago.' 'S he did. It were her nephew, young Nigel, 'im what c am e into her m oney. He only got around to s elling her s tuff at t'beginning of this year. S om e of it went to Roper's , I believe. A ye, that theer bed us ed to be in her front bed-room .' 'A nd how would you know that then, granddad?' as ked the young m an, s m irking. 'W ell... I... er... er... I s aw it being brought out when young Mr Ollerans haw s ent it to t's aleroom .' 'I believe you, granddad,' s aid the young m an, giving a theatric al wink. 'T hous ands wouldn't. Com e on then, lads , let's give it a try.' T he two m en ros e from the bed. He turned to m e. 'W e'll need a bit of help up the s tairs , if you don't m ind, s o I hope you haven't had a double hernia like old Cas anova over there. B y the way, you haven't dec orated yet, have you? It's jus t that there m ight be a bit of m anoeuvring to get it in the bedroom . T hes e old c ottages often have very narrow s tairs .' 'T hey do,' agreed Harry who, having regained his c om pos ure, had m oved from the wall and now s tood by the c ottage door, the better to obs erve proc eedings . 'A nd P eewit Cottage has s om e of t'narrowes t, if m y m em ory s erves m e right.' 'Y es , I have jus t dec orated,' I told him , m y heart s inking into m y s hoes . 'J us t las t week.' 'W ell, I c an't prom is e we won't c hip your paintwork,' he s aid. Mr Cotton was now perc hed on the bed, running his hand over the oak headboard. 'Y es , this were Mrs Ollerans haw's bed, all right. Nic e piec e of furniture, this .' He c huc kled, a long low c huc kle. 'It's a rum do, i'n't it? A ll that heffort gerrin' it down and then it 'as to go up ageean.' 'A re you s ure this is the s am e bed, Harry?' I as ked. 'Oh yes , it's t's am e bed, s ure as eggs is eggs . S he was ill for a long tim e was Mrs Ollerans haw. S pent a deal of tim e in that there bed a-m oanin' and a-groanin'.' He s c ratc hed his c hin and nodded s agely. 'B reathed her las t in it an' all.' A t this point, Chris tine em erged from the c ottage, looking radiant in the s pring s uns hine and s m iling widely. 'A h, the bed,' s he s aid. 'It's arrived.' 'I was jus t s aying to your 'us band, Mrs P hinn,' s aid Harry. 'T his is the bed that old Mrs Ollerans haw died in.'

16 On a bright early J une m orning, I m ade m y way to B arton Moor P aroc hial S c hool, feeling on top of the world. Married life was s erious ly s uiting m e, I m us ed, and I whis tled a little tune to c onfirm that I felt on top of the world. In fac t, I thought, glanc ing at m y watc h, I had a little tim e to s pare s o I pulled into a gateway and c lim bed out of the c ar - I had borrowed Chris tine's s m all Morris Minor s inc e m y c ar was in for s ervic e. I leaned on the gate and looked at the s c ene below m e. T he field, whic h fell away into B artondale below, was full of c ontented grazing s heep, the warm m orning s un falling on their newly-s horn bac ks . T he s ky was alive with darting s wallows and the air with birds ong. I would have liked to have s pent all day there, but I had a s c hool to vis it, s o reluc tantly I returned to the c ar and m ade m y way to the s m all ham let of B arton Moor. I s wung into the s m all parking area and as I got out of the c ar I s aw two boys aged about ten or eleven s itting on the s c hool wall, watc hing m e with s om e interes t. 'Hey up,' s aid one as I approac hed. 'Good m orning,' I replied, waving. 'Grand day,' s aid the other, s c rewing up his eyes and s urveying the s ky. 'It is , a beautiful day.' T he bigger of the two boys pointed a finger at the c ar and s aid, 'I s ee tha got rid o' t'hears e then.' A nd I im m ediately rem em bered m eeting the boys on m y firs t vis it to the s c hool m ore than two years earlier. S now had been falling heavily ever s inc e I had left Fettle-s ham , and I had thanked m y luc ky s tars that I had been driving the large es tate c ar that I had bought from m y brother before m oving north. Old and blac k - a 'wardrobe on wheels ', as S idney liked to c all it - the vehic le was not the m os t attrac tive looking, but it was s olid and heavy and ideal for driving in s uc h hazardous c onditions . I had felt a c ertain s m ugnes s as I had c hugged s lowly but s urely up the ribbon of road, leaving behind m e other vehic les unable to c ope with the c onditions . T hat m orning, as I had c lam bered from the c ar, I had notic ed two young lads watc hing m e with great interes t from their viewpoint on top of the s c hool wall. T hey had been m uffled up s o thic kly in woolly hats , thic k c oats and s c arves that I had only s een two pairs of s harp dark eyes peering out at m e. T he two figures had looked like bundles of c lothes one m ight s ee in the c orner of a jum ble s ale. 'Com e for t'body, 'as tha?' one of the boys had as ked m e, pointing a gloved finger at the c ar. 'P ardon?' I had replied, s hivering in the c old air. 'For t'body. T o tek away in t'hears e.' 'No, no,' I had s aid, laughing. 'I've not c om e for the body and m y c ar is n't a hears e.' 'Looks like an 'ears e,' the larger of the two had c om m ented. 'I bet tha c ould get a body in t'bac k wi'out any trouble at all.' 'T ha c ould get a pair of 'em in theer,' his s m all c om panion had added. 'I s uppos e I c ould,' I had replied, 'but I'm not here for a body.' 'A re thy 'ere to fix t'frozzen pipes in t'lads ' lavs , then?' 'No, I'm afraid not.' 'P ity. W e've been c ros s in' us legs all week, 'aven't we, Roge?' 'Good s ort of c ar to drive in this s ort o' weather, I rec kon,' obs erved the other boy. 'It's like a tank. Cooars e, tha needs a bit o'weight under thee, to get up B arton Hill.' 'Y ou c ertainly do.' 'K eeps thee on t'rooad, then?' 'Y es , it does . W ell, I m us t be getting on. S ee you in s c hool.' T he headteac her of B arton Moor P aroc hial was a large, ros y-c heeked, good-natured wom an by the nam e of Mis s S ally P rec ious . W hen I had firs t ins pec ted the s c hool, it had rec eived a good report but there had been one or two c ritic is m s and s ugges tions . I had had a m eeting with Mis s P rec ious the year before but it had been in the S taff Devlopm ent Centre when s he had been there for a c ours e; the purpos e of this vis it was to s ee how m uc h progres s had been m ade in the s c hool. 'B it different from your las t vis it, eh, Mr P hinn?' s he s aid, bus tling towards m e and then s haking m y hand vigorous ly. 'My goodnes s , the s now was thic k and then the fog des c ended. It's a wonder you got bac k hom e in one piec e.' 'Y es , indeed, Mis s P rec ious ,' I replied. 'I won't forget that journey in a long tim e.' S he c hatted on am iably as I followed her in the direc tion of her s m all offic e. 'I've put you with Mrs Durdon and the infants firs t and then you're with m e after m orning playtim e. Is that all right?' 'Fine,' I replied. 'T hen at lunc htim e we c an have a little c hat about how things have im proved s inc e you were las t here. W ell,' and s he gave a little laugh, 'I c ertainly think that things have im proved.' 'I'm s o glad to hear it,' I s aid, trying to keep up. 'Do you rem em ber when you las t c am e we had that interes ting c onvers ation about J os eph, the gifted pupil?' 'Y es , I was going to as k you about him ,' I s aid, hoping to hear m ore about the intriguing boy I had m et on the previous vis it. 'W ell, I'll tell you all about him later,' s he told m e, s triding ahead. 'I'm s ure you want to m ake a s tart.' J os eph had been the very firs t pupil to whom I had s poken when I had las t c alled at B arton Moor. He c ould have been a s c hoolboy of the 1950s . He had a s hort-bac k-and-s ides hairc ut and was dres s ed in long grey trous ers and a hand-knitted grey jers ey, while his s hoes were em inently s ens ible. He wore extrem ely thic k-lens ed s pec tac les . J os eph was probably the brightes t pupil I had ever m et, with a s harp enquiring m ind, a rem arkable general knowledge and an outs tanding c om m and of E nglis h, but he s eem ed s uc h a s ad, s erious , lonely c hild. I had often thought about how he would fare m oving from the s m all and friendly rural prim ary s c hool to the large c om prehens ive in W es t Challerton. It oc c urred to m e that he would be the perfec t target for the s c hool bullies . Y es , I was looking forward to hearing from Mis s P rec ious jus t how J os eph was getting along at his new s c hool where he had been for nearly a year now. T here were jus t the two c las s room s in B arton Moor S c hool, one for the infants and one for the juniors . B oth were long room s with high, beam ed c eilings and both were c lean and orderly. A large pic ture window had been put in the junior c las s room (how Mis s P rec ious m anaged to get planning perm is s ion, I will never know) and this gave the c hildren an uninterrupted and quite m agnific ent view ac ros s the m oor and down into the valley. T he infant c las s room , with its s m all, high windows , was darker and les s c heerful and it was the headteac her's princ ipal aim in life to have a s im ilar 'window on the world' c reated there, too. W hen I c am e into the infants ' c las s room , Mrs Durdon, who was a s m all, intens e-looking wom an, s eem ed extrem ely nervous and blinked rapidly. 'I'm afraid you've c om e at the wrong tim e,' s he told m e rather c ros s ly. S he s ounded like an irritated hous ewife, c onfronted with a fervent m em ber of s om e religious s ec t intent on c onverting her. 'T he wrong tim e?' I repeated. 'W e're doing m athem atic s this m orning, not E nglis h. E nglis h takes plac e this afternoon. Can you c om e bac k?' 'No, not really,' I replied. 'I'm only here for the m orning.' T he teac her blinked m adly. 'A fter your las t vis it, Mr P hinn, you s ugges ted that we planned our days m ore thoroughly and devoted greater tim e to the bas ic s ubjec ts , s o we now have m aths in the m orning and E nglis h in the afternoon. I did tell Mis s P rec ious .' 'Don't worry,' I s aid c alm ly, 'I'll jus t s tay for ten m inutes .' 'B ut we are doing m aths this m orning,' s he repeated, 'not E nglis h.' 'Y es , you s aid. I'll jus t s tay for a m om ent, if I m ay.' T he c hildren had been s et the exerc is e of identifying different geom etric al s hapes - s quares , rec tangles , c irc les , triangles , hexagons and s o on - whic h had been drawn on a works heet. I approac hed a s m all girl bus ily writing away with a large penc il. S he had c om pleted the firs t two ques tions c orrec tly: 'Is this a triangle or a c irc le?' and 'Is this a s quare or a rec tangle?' but in ans wer to the third ques tion s he had written what looked like 'Melanie'. 'W hat is this word?' I as ked, intrigued. 'Melanie,' replied the c hild. 'Melanie,' I repeated. 'W hy have you written "Melanie"?' 'W ell, it s ays , "Nam e this s hape",' s he replied s weetly, 's o I thought I'd c all it Melanie.' My laughter brought the teac her bus tling to m y s ide. I explained the reas on for m y am us em ent, before leaning over the c hild. 'Y ou know,' I told her s erious ly, 'I think it's m ore of a S am antha.' 'A c tually, it's an oc tagon,' s aid Mrs Durdon, without any trac e of a s m ile. T he next c hild, a m ous y-haired girl, as s m all as a s parrow, with tiny bright eyes and a little beak of a nos e, had c om pleted her works heet and was reading quietly. 'A ll finis hed?' I obs erved. 'Y es , it was pretty s traightforward,' s he told m e, looking up from her book. 'I'm pretty good at s hapes .' 'A nd what is your nam e?' I as ked. 'A nna Martram ,' s he replied. 'Can you s pell that for m e?' 'Of c ours e I c an,' s he s aid pertly before doing s o, s lowly and deliberately as if s he were in the pres enc e of a s low learner. T hen s he added, 'B oth m y nam es are palindrom es , you know.' 'P alindrom es ?' 'S pelt the s am e bac kwards .' S he returned to her book. Here is another J os eph, I thought to m ys elf. 'T he las t tim e I c am e to your s c hool,' I told her, 'it was very c old and wintry and on m y way bac k I got los t, it was that dark and foggy.' 'Y es ,' s he replied without looking up, 'vis ibility is n't too good up here, is it? A nd now, if you will exc us e m e, I do s o want to finis h this c hapter.' A t m orning break I joined the headteac her in her s m all offic e and heard about J os eph's progres s . 'Our J os eph is doing really well,' Mis s P rec ious inform ed m e proudly. 'He's taken to s ec ondary educ ation like a duc k to water. I think it is living in an is olated hous e on the m oor top with his grandparents , well m eaning though they undoubtedly are, whic h m akes him s eem s o s erious and s o old for his age. He has no other c hildren to play with up there, and his grandparents are rather s tric t and s ober people. T hey don't approve of televis ion, c inem a, fas hionable c lothes and c om ic s , nothing of that s ort, but they have c ertainly taken his educ ation s erious ly. I don't think they felt that I had really s tretc hed him intellec tually here, but he's really c om ing on at the c om prehens ive, s oc ially as well as intellec tually. He looked as if he had the weight of the world on his s houlders s om e days when he was with m e. Do you know, he got this s c holars hip to a top public s c hool, whic h I thought would be ideal for s uc h a c hild, but he wouldn't go.' 'He wouldn't go?' 'No, he s aid he didn't believe in private educ ation or in private healthc are and was going to the c om prehens ive in W es t Challerton like the res t of the c hildren. W ouldn't budge.' 'W hy did he s it the s c holars hip paper for the public s c hool if he never intended going there?' I as ked. 'He s aid he wanted to s ee how he would get on. He always liked a c hallenge, did J os eph, and loved doing tes ts . He got top m arks , evidently, and they were very keen to have him , I c an tell you. T he headm as ter was on the phone here, m orning, noon and night, as king m e to get him to c hange his m ind but J os eph was as s tubborn as a m ule.' 'A nd he's doing all right at the c om prehens ive?' 'Fine, as far as I know. He's been there les s than a year and already he's won two national writing c om petitions and was s elec ted to play in the E ngland J unior Ches s T eam . He's bec om e a m em ber of J unior ME NS A as well and has joined the dram a c lub. A nd, what's really good to hear is that he s eem s to have developed a s ens e of hum our. Now then, what about that?' 'Y ou always s aid he would go far.' 'I did, didn't I? W ell he's c ertainly on the road to fam e and fortune is our J os eph B arc lay, and what is really nic e is that he c alls in and lets m e know how he's getting on. Com es in regularly for a little c hat. I do like it when m y form er pupils keep in touc h. It m akes the job that bit m ore worthwhile, don't you think?' 'A nd you c an be jus tifiably proud of the part you played in his s uc c es s ,' I told her, and I m eant it. 'Get away with you,' s he s aid, c olouring up. 'Now, there's a little girl in Mrs Durdon's c las s I want your advic e about. B right as a button s he is .' 'A h, yes ,' I s aid s m iling. 'A nna the palindrom e.' J us t two weeks later, I happened to m eet J os eph again. I had been as ked by the rec ently-appointed headm as ter of W es t Challerton High S c hool, Mr Raym ond P ennington-S m ith, to attend the s c hool's annual prize-giving c erem ony and s peec h day when the m os t s uc c es s ful s tudents in the various ac adem ic s ubjec ts and thos e who had ac hieved highly in s port, would be pres ented with their awards , c ertific ates , s hields and c ups . Mr P ennington-S m ith was a very different c harac ter from the previous headm as ter - a large, bluff, outs poken Y orks hirem an c alled appropriately Mr B lunt. Mr B lunt was not a one for s herry rec eptions and s peec h days . W es t Challerton High S c hool was one of the firs t s c hools I had vis ited as a s c hool ins pec tor and when I had delivered m y report to Mr B lunt he had bris tled when he read that there had been s o m uc h as a hint of a c ritic is m of his s c hool. My attem pts to explain that the report was , in general, a very favourable one and that he s eem ed to be taking the relatively few c ritic is m s pers onally, were dis m is s ed c urtly. He had told m e that when a s c hool is attac ked it was the headteac her who bled and then he had s hared with m e his unc om prom is ing views about m y c hos en profes s ion. 'I have always been of the opinion, Mr P hinn,' he had told m e, pus hing out his fac e like a bulldog with toothac he, 'that s c hool ins pec tors are like c ros s -eyed javelin throwers . T hey hurl a lot of s pears in the direc tion of the s c hools , m is s ing the point m os t of the tim e but oc c as ionally, and by s heer ac c ident, they happen to hit the right target.' I knew that while Mr B lunt rem ained as headm as ter of W es t Challerton High S c hool, an invitation to attend a s herry rec eption and the annual prize-giving would not be forthc om ing. Y et, des pite his brus que m anner and poor opinion of s c hool ins pec tors , I rather liked the m an. He was , like m any a Y orks hire pers on, plain-s peaking, unas s um ing and not a one for anything fanc y - unlike his s uc c es s or. I arrived at the s c hool an hour before the proc eedings and c huddered through the gates in m y old es tate c ar in the direc tion of the res erved parking s pac es near the m ain entranc e. I had jus t negotiated the narrow bend in the drive when two s m artly-dres s ed pupils waved m e to s top. 'I'm s orry, s ir,' explained one of the boys , 'but the s pac es at the front of the s c hool are for the V IP s only. W ould you m ind parking your c ar in the m ain c ar park at the bac k?' It was obvious that the young m an did not num ber m e am ongs t the great and the good - not that I blam ed him when I s aw that the c ars in the res erved s pac es were rather newer m odels and a great deal m ore flas hy than m y old 'wardrobe on wheels '. 'A ll right,' I s aid. 'Y ou are a little early, s ir,' the boy told m e. 'S peec h Day does n't s tart until s even-thirty.' I res is ted telling the young m an that I was one of the V IP s in ques tion and that I had been invited for s herry with the headm as ter and governors prior to the c erem ony. 'P erhaps , rather than waiting in the c ar, you would like a tour of the s c hool,' s ugges ted the boy. 'T hat would be s plendid,' I replied. 'I'd like that very m uc h.' 'W ell, you park your c ar, s ir, and I'll m eet you bac k here.' W hen Mr P ennington-S m ith had taken over as headm as ter at the beginning of the year, one of his firs t innovations was to c om m is s ion a very im pres s ive-looking s c hool broc hure; it was full of c oloured photographs , grandios e 'm is s ion s tatem ents ', des c riptions of the various c ours es offered and a lis t of the s taff with their various ac adem ic qualific ations appended. I rec alled Harold telling m e when I s tarted in the job that a s c hool is only as good as the teac hers and the pupils . T he bes t advertis em ents for a s c hool, he had s aid, are not the glos s y pros pec tus es , prom otional leaflets , flattering news paper artic les , lis ts of exam ination res ults and public ity m aterials but the s tudents them s elves . T hey are the am bas s adors and the s c hool is bes t judged by the s tandard of their behaviour, their enthus ias m for learning and their ac hievem ents . T he young m an who took m e on a guided tour of the s c hool left m e with the m os t favourable of im pres s ions . He was c onfident, c ourteous and good-hum oured, and kept up a running c om m entary as we toured c las s room s and works hops . 'Have you travelled far, s ir?' he as ked, as we s et off at a quic k pac e down a long c orridor. 'I've jus t c om e from Cas tles nelling, s o not too far.' 'A nd what are your interes ts ?' 'P ardon?' 'Do you follow the c ric ket? T errible res ult from Headingley, was n't it?' 'Y es , I follow c ric ket when I have the tim e, although there s eem s little point in getting exc ited about T es t c ric ket at the m om ent.' 'Do you play rugger?' 'No, not any m ore.' 'Or are you m ore of a s oc c er fan?' 'I like s oc c er, yes .' On m y travels around s c hools , I am the one who generally as ks the ques tions s o this was a very pleas ant c hange. I glanc ed at m y watc h. 'W ell, I think I had better be on m y way. T hank you very m uc h for the tour of the s c hool. It was m os t interes ting.' 'Oh, you've plenty of tim e, yet,' the boy told m e. 'Y ou have another half hour. Is your s on or daughter rec eiving a prize tonight?' 'A c tually,' I s aid, 'I don't have a s on or daughter. I'm not a parent. I'm a s c hool ins pec tor and one of the invited gues ts .' 'Oh c rikey! ' exc laim ed the boy, his hand to his m outh. 'Y ou are one of the V IP s . I'm really s orry. I thought you were jus t one of the... jus t an ordinary... I didn't know...oh help! ' 'Don't worry yours elf,' I s aid, s m iling. 'I've very m uc h enjoyed looking around the s c hool. W hat's your nam e?' 'A ndrew W inner, s ir. Oh, s ir, you won't tell Mr P ennington-S m ith, will you, s ir, about m e getting you to park at the bac k?' he pleaded. I s m iled m is c hievous ly. 'No, we'll keep that to ours elves , s hall we?' It was c ertainly m y intention to tell Mr P ennington-S m ith how very im pres s ed I had been with m y young guide and to as k him to c ongratulate him on his initiative, good m anners and exc ellent inter-pers onal s kills . A t a very bris k pac e, I followed the s c urrying figure and was very s oon delivered outs ide the headm as ter's room . 'Goodbye, s ir,' s aid the boy and hurried away. My heart s ank when I s aw who was in anim ated c onvers ation with the headm as ter. A lthough he had his bac k to m e, the huge nec k with folds whic h overlapped the top of his c ollar, the m op of blac k hair and the bom bas tic voic e were unm is takable. It was Counc illor George P eters on, an ins ufferably garrulous and s elf-opinionated m an who, on the s everal tim es we had m et, always s uc c eeded in irritating m e beyond m eas ure. 'A h,' s aid the headm as ter, c atc hing s ight of m e entering the room , 'I think I c an s ee Mr P hinn.' T he c ounc illor s wivelled round and I was c onfronted with the vas t florid fac e. 'Oh, he's arrived, 'as he?' he s tated loudly to anyone who happened to be lis tening. 'I thowt tha'd forgotten or 'ad s um m at better on.'

'No, c ounc illor,' I replied, s m iling s weetly. 'I've been having a tour of the s c hool.' 'Y ou know Counc illor P eters on, then, do you, Mr P hinn?' enquired the headm as ter, with an ingratiating s m ile playing on his lips . 'A ye, we've m et,' the c ounc illor replied before I c ould res pond. 'A t interviews , s c hool plays , parents ' evenings , E duc ation Com m ittee and s uc h like. W e never s eem to be away from eac h other. I thowt we m ight 'ave s een you up for t' S enior Ins pec tor's job, Mes ter P hinn, but they never c alled you for interviews , did they?' He had all the tac t of a s ledge ham m er. 'No, they didn't, c ounc illor,' I replied. 'I thowt to m ys elf when I heard abaat it, you were a bit on t'prem ature s ide applying for s uc h a top job. I m ean you've only been in t'c ounty five m inutes .' W hy don't you s ay it a little louder s o all the room c ould hear, I thought to m ys elf. 'Y ou are probably right, c ounc illor,' I s aid. 'A nyrooad, we appointed a very bright c hap. E verybody on t'panel were very im pres s ed with 'im . A s Lord Marric k s aid at t'tim e, he's got m ore degrees than a therm om eter.' I s teered the c onvers ation onto another s ubjec t. 'A nd how is your wife, c ounc illor?' 'Oh, s he's c ham pion.' He turned to the headm as ter and took his arm . 'He ins pec ted m i wife, you know.' 'I beg your pardon, c ounc illor?' s aid Mr P ennington-S m ith, rather taken abac k. 'Mes ter P hinn. He ins pec ted m i wife. Gave her a thorough goin' ovver.' 'He ins pec ted your wife?' the headm as ter repeated, now with a quizzic al expres s ion on his fac e. 'S he's an 'eadteac her, m y wife. Highc ops e P rim ary S c hool,' explained the c ounc illor. 'Mes ter P hinn here went through her s c hool like a dos e of s alts . T ha wants to watc h out, headm as ter, or he'll be s tanding on y our doors tep with his ruddy c lipboard one of thes e days .' 'Counc illor P eters on is our Chairm an of Governors ,' s aid Mr P ennington-S m ith, looking rather em barras s ed. 'Now, perhaps I m ight go over the proc eedings . T he evening will c om m enc e with the s c hool orc hes tra and s om e poetry rec ited by the s tudents , followed by Counc illor P eters on who will s ay a few words to welc om e the parents . T hen I s hall give m y annual report and this will be followed by the pres entation of the prizes . I wonder, Mr P hinn, would you do the honours ?' 'P res ent the prizes ?' 'If you would be s o good,' s aid the headm as ter. 'W ell, yes , of c ours e, I s hould be delighted.' 'A nd don't go droppin' any o' t'c ups ,' s aid the c ounc illor, laughing at his own s uppos edly am us ing c om m ent. 'Or walkin' off wi' 'em .' B efore I c ould reply, he c ons ulted his watc h and barked ac ros s the room . 'W ell, I think we're about ready for the off by m y rec konin'. S up up, everybody, and we'll m ake a s tart and get the s how on t'rooad.' T he party proc es s ed behind Mr P ennington-S m ith, res plendent in his blac k ac adem ic gown with fur-lined hood. 'I as ked t'headm as ter,' c hortled Counc illor P eters on, indic ating the hood with the white fur, 'when he was at t'Univers ity of A las ka but I don't think he s aw t'funny s ide.' W e m ade our way into the s c hool hall and up onto the s tage to the ac c om panim ent of the s c hool orc hes tra. T he firs t ten or s o rows were full of s m artly-dres s ed s tudents and in the s eats behind were the proud parents . A fter the s c hool orc hes tra had played a s elec tion of rous ing m elodies and three s tudents had rec ited a S hakes peare s onnet, a dreary Robert B urns poem s poken in a very poor attem pt at a S c ottis h ac c ent, and an exc ellent rendition of J ohn B etjem an's poem 'Original S in on the S us s ex Coas t', the Chairm an of Governors m ade his ponderous way to the lec tern. Counc illor P eters on's 's hort' addres s , in whic h he lam bas ted wis hy-was hy, airy-fairy, m odern teac hing m ethods , and lam ented the dem is e of gabardine rainc oats and s c hools c aps , and the dis appearanc e of c orporal punis hm ent (whic h, he s aid, had never done him any harm ), las ted a good fifteen m inutes but c onc luded on an unintentionally am us ing note. 'Now, this s c hool 'as 'ad its s hare of problem s , there's no denying that. W e've 'ad c rac ks in t'walls , as bes tos roofs what 'ave been c ondem ned, gas leaks , bom b s c ares and floods and the las t ins pec tors ' report - that was before the pres ent headm as ter was in pos t, of c oours e - m entioned s om e s hortc om ings . S o we 'ave 'ad a diffic ult year. Make no m is take about that. W e are at t'edge of a prec ipic e, not to put too fine a point on it, but, with the rec ent appointm ent of Mr P ennington-S m ith, we are now m oving forward with c onfidenc e.' Mr P ennington-S m ith dec ided upon a nautic al m etaphor for his addres s . 'Mr Chairm an of Governors , governors , m em bers of s taff, parents , honoured gues ts and, las t but not leas t, s tudents of W es t Challerton High S c hool,' he began, 'welc om e, welc om e, to the firs t, but c ertainly not the las t of m y A nnual S c hool P rize-giving and S peec h Days . It is with great pride that I s tand before you this evening as your new headm as ter to report upon the s c hool's outs tanding ac adem ic and s porting s uc c es s es . B ut, you know parents , I s ee m ys elf not as a headm as ter at all, but m ore as the c aptain of a s hip, s tanding proudly on the bridge, s c anning the horizon, with the s alty s pray of enthus ias m in m y fac e and m y s ails full of an optim is tic wind. A nd what is our des tination? I hear you as k. W here are we going? W ell, I will tell you. W e are heading for the land of opportunity and the harbour of s uc c es s . It will not be an eas y journey. S om etim es we are buffeted by the s torm y gus ts of educ ational c hange. S om etim es we are c arried off c ours e by the c old c urrents of governm ent polic y. S om etim es we fac e the hurric anes and gales of s c hool ins pec tion.' He glanc ed briefly in m y direc tion at this point and allowed him s elf a s m ug little s m ile. 'S om etim es we are inundated by a heavy downpour of yet m ore doc um ents from the Minis try of E duc ation. S om etim es we are bec alm ed by the s hortage of the nec es s ary res ourc es . Y et we always keep a s teady c ours e, with a firm hand on the tiller, for the land of opportunity and the harbour of s uc c es s . A s c aptain of this s hip of ours , I have the experienc e and s kill to s teer us onwards . I have all m y c orrec t navigational equipm ent intac t and I have with m e on the bridge, to help keep us heading in the right direc tion, m y firs t offic er - the deputy head - Mr S tipple, and m y s ec ond offic er - the s enior m is tres s - Mrs W ellbeloved. My other offic ers - the teac hing s taff - are keen, c apable and well qualified. T hey help m e navigate this s hip of ours to the land of opportunity and the harbour of s uc c es s . T hey as s is t m e to plot the c ours e, s teer the s hip, m ake s ail towards our des ired des tination. A nd you, the s tudents here tonight, our prec ious c argo...' T he head-m as ter paus ed to s weep his hand before him . 'Y ou know well the nam e of this , our s hip, a nam e that s tands for his tory, for tradition and for the highes t pos s ible s tandards . W hat is the nam e of this our s hip, I as k? W hat is the nam e of this ves s el of ours riding the c res t of the wave for the land of opportunity and the harbour of s uc c es s ?' No one volunteered a nam e. T he headm as ter's eyes c am e to res t on a s m all boy in the front row. He was a s trangely old-fas hioned-looking boy, wearing grey trous ers and em inently s ens ible s hoes . He s tared up from behind thic k-lens ed glas s es like the bottom of m ilk bottles . It was J os eph. He was s taring s erious ly at the headm as ter. 'Y es , you, boy,' Mr P ennington-S m ith c om m anded, 'B arc lay, is n't it? T ell us the nam e of this s hip of ours .' 'Is it the Titanic , s ir?' enquired J os eph with a s m all s m ile.

17 W e c ould hear S idney c hortling to him s elf as he c lim bed the s tairs to the offic e. 'S om eone is in a rem arkably good m ood,' rem arked David, looking up m oros ely and peering over the top of his s pec tac les . He pus hed away from him the report he was attem pting to c om plete and leaned bac k in his c hair. 'It's Friday,' I rem inded him , trying to s ound c heerful, 'and the pros pec t of a nic e quiet weekend.' 'Huh! ' s norted m y c om panion, s haking his head wearily. 'Nic e quiet weekend? Not if I haven't finis hed this wretc hed report whic h I have been working on for the bes t part of a week. Gerry did the right thing by going off early.' A m om ent later, S idney s trode through the door, threw his briefc as e onto his des k with a flouris h and flopped heavily into the neares t c hair. T hen he threw bac k his head and laughed s o loudly that J ulie c am e bus tling in to s ee what the nois e was . 'W hatever is it?' s he as ked. 'A re you having s om e s ort of a turn?' 'No, J ulie,' replied S idney, 'I am perfec tly well, thank you. I am laughing. I am having a hearty laugh whic h, s o the philos ophers tell us , is a s ign of a healthy s oul.' 'Oh, for goodnes s s ake! ' s aid David. 'I s inc erely hope that you are not going to go all philos ophic on us . I c ouldn't bear that after the week I have jus t had.' 'W hat an old grum p you are, David,' s aid S idney. '"A c heerful heart is good m edic ine but a c rus hed s pirit drieth up the bones ." B ook of P roverbs .' 'Y es , well I feel as if I have a c rus hed s pirit at the m om ent s o I don't feel like laughing,' retorted David. 'Could we, therefore, dis pens e with your ins ufferable bonhom ie and good hum our?' '"A m erry heart doeth good like a m edic ine." S till B ook of P roverbs ,' c ontinued S idney, unabas hed. '"A nd a heavy fis t doeth great dam age to the features of the intolerably jovial." B ook of David.' 'W ell, this will warm thos e little W els h c oc kles of yours ,' s m iled S idney. 'I have the m os t wonderfully am us ing s tory to tell you. It was s o abs urdly entertaining, I jus t c annot s top c huc kling to m ys elf 'W ell, you c an s hare it with us ,' I told him . 'W e're not feeling too happy with the world at the m om ent, are we, David?' 'T hat is putting it m ildly,' rem arked David gloom ily, pluc king the s pec tac les from his nos e. 'E very bles s ed report 1 write, I keep thinking of the new S enior Ins pec tor and what he s aid. I tell you, I've been put right off m y s troke s inc e M is ter Carter c ritic is ed our reports . I'm c ertain he was referring to m ine in partic ular. He was looking direc tly at m e when he fired the broads ide about flabby writing. I do tend to be a bit wordy, I have to adm it, and am a little anec dotal, but I have always found that the s c hools apprec iate --' 'Y ou are s ounding paranoid,' S idney interrupted. 'He was referring to all of us . Y ou are, if truth be told, rather loquac ious , David, but at leas t you do not us e that c eas eles s flow of lim p m etaphors and m em oris ed m axim s beloved of m anagem ent gurus like S im on Carter and our very own B renda S avage. T hey us e a s ort of verbal wallpaper to c over the c rac ks in their thinking and the gaping holes in their argum ents . A nyway, our new S enior Ins pec tor was s taring at m e when he m ade that partic ular c aus tic c om m ent. Y ou are taking it far too pers onally. He thinks we are all as bad as eac h other.' 'I didn't like him ,' obs erved J ulie, leaning agains t the door jam b and exam ining a broken nail. 'He's got c old fis hy eyes and warm c lam m y hands . He as ked m e if I was the c leric al anc illary - I as k you! - and told m e he would be reviewing m y roles and res pons ibilities as s oon as he's s ettled in. He als o thinks that Frank is s uperfluous . If he s tarts interfering, I s hall tell him to s tic k his job.' 'S o don't keep this very funny s tory to yours elf, S idney,' I s aid, not wis hing to prolong the depres s ing dis c us s ion of the new S enior Ins pec tor. 'W e c ould do with c heering up.' 'W ell,' began S idney, grinning like a hungry frog, 'have either of you been into W es t Challerton High rec ently?' 'Y es , I was there las t week to attend P rize-giving and S peec h Day,' I told him . It was now m y turn to s m ile as I rec alled the event on s tage. 'A nd m et the new headm as ter?' 'Y es , of c ours e, I did. He would hardly m is s P rize-giving, would he?' 'Y ou know, then, how inflated and s elf-prom oting the m an is and s o full of his own im portanc e, s wanning around the plac e in his ac adem ic gown like Napoleon.' 'I was not aware that Napoleon wore an ac adem ic gown,' rem arked David. 'He wore a s ort of greatc oat, if m y m em ory s erves m e right.' 'Y ou know what I m ean,' c ontinued S idney. 'T he way he s truts about the plac e with his hands behind his bac k.' 'Napoleon tuc ked his hand ins ide his c oat, didn't he?' as ked J ulie. 'A m I allowed to finis h this s tory,' dem anded S idney, 'without petty interruptions ?' 'Go on, go on,' I urged. 'W ell, you know the way he tells everyone how everything in his educ ational garden is s o ros y,' c ontinued S idney, 'and how things have really flouris hed and blos s om ed s inc e he took over? He likes hortic ultural m etaphors , does Mr P ennington-S m ith --' 'A nd nautic al ones ,' I interjec ted, thinking of his addres s at the P rize-giving again. 'I have a funny s tory about that as well.' 'T he other c hap, old B lunt, was a pain in the nec k at tim es ,' obs erved David, 'but you knew where you were with him . B lunt by nam e and blunt by nature, that was him . A lways a m an for s peaking his m ind. I rec all that onc e --' 'David! ' s napped S idney. 'W ho is telling this s tory, you or m e?' 'W ell, I don't know what s tory you're going to tell,' s aid David. 'I was going to tell you about the P .E . equipm ent.' 'Is it funny? It does n't s ound as though it c ould be the leas t bit funny.' 'W ell, it's not really.' 'W ell m ine is . It is very funny, extrem ely funny, s o m ay I be allowed to c ontinue?' 'Com e on, S idney,' I s aid, 'let's hear it. W e'll be here all night at this rate.' 'W ell, earlier this week, when I was on a two-day vis it to the s c hool ins pec ting the vis ual arts departm ent, the headm as ter had this final-year pupil in his room when I arrived. S he was a tall, gangly, s ullen-looking girl of about fifteen. A nyway, he as ked m e to wait in the outer room - that little glas s adjunc t whic h he euphem is tic ally c alls his pers onal as s is tant's offic e. A s I s at there waiting to give him the oral report of m y ins pec tion vis it, I c ould hear the c onvers ation as c lear as if he were s itting next to m e. He s ays , "W ell now, Delores , you are s till s ure you want to keep it?" "Oh yes , s ir," the girl replies . "A nd you have given up any thoughts of adoption?" "Oh yes , s ir," s he s ays again. "Y ou are very young to be bringing up a c hild. Have you talked it through very thoroughly with your parents and the s oc ial s ervic es ?" "Oh yes , s ir," replies the girl for the third tim e. "W hen is the baby due, Delores ?" he as ks . 'Not until Oc tober, s ir," s ays the girl. "A nd are you getting on well with your s tudies at hom e with the private tutor?" "Oh yes , s ir," s he s ays . "W hen you c om e into s c hool next week to take your final exam s , we are putting you in the deputy headteac her's room rather than in the hall with the other s tudents . W e felt it would be a little les s em barras s ing for you with people s taring and s o forth." "T hank you, s ir." 'A t this point,' c ontinued S idney, 'I c ould hear the girl getting up and heading for the door. "Oh, and Delores ," the headm as ter c alls after her, "the Outward B ound week over the s um m er holidays is off." "A w, no, s ir," m oans the girl. "I was looking forward to that." "W ell, you c an hardly go abs eiling, c anoeing, c aving, orienteering, m ountain-c lim bing and gras s -s kiing when you're five m onths pregnant, c an you? T ell your m other that we will refund the depos it s he paid for the trip." "Y es , s ir. T hank you, s ir."' S idney paus ed for effec t. 'Is that it?' s aid David. 'It does n't s ound at all that am us ing. In fac t, I feel quite s orry for the poor girl, bringing a baby into the world as a teenage, unm arried m other. OK , s o s he s houldn't have got into that pos ition in the firs t plac e - to c oin a phras e - but it takes a lot of guts to do that.' 'My bes t friend is an unm arried m other,' c hipped in J ulie. 'A nd it's no laughing m atter, I c an tell you. S he had a terrible tim e with all the gos s ip and people m aking c om m ents .' 'It m us t be very hard bringing up a c hild on your own,' I s aid, thinking of Gerry. 'Look, all of you,' c ried S idney, exas perated, 'I haven't finis hed the s tory yet! T his is not a general dis c us s ion about the trials and tribulations of teenage pregnanc ies .' 'W ell, hurry up, will you?' s aid J ulie, 'I've got a bus to c atc h at s ix and if I m is s it, I'll have to wait another hour.' 'P leas e don't let m e detain you, J ulie,' replied S idney c urtly. 'I c ould m ake the s tory epis odic if you would prefer and relate the denouem ent tom orrow.' 'T he what?' 'T he c onc lus ion to this very funny s tory whic h I am attem pting to relate des pite the frequent interruptions . A s I s aid, don't let m e detain you.' S idney's s arc as m was was ted on J ulie who was now attem pting to c ut her nail with a large pair of offic e s c is s ors . 'No, I want to hear the end but c an you hurry up and c ut out all the c onvers ation bits ?' 'T hos e are the funny parts ! ' exc laim ed S idney. 'It's the c onvers ation bits whic h m ake it interes ting. It is the c onvers ation bits whic h enhanc e the narrative and em broider the s tory.' 'A nd I thought I was wordy and anec dotal,' rem arked David, c los ing the report and pluc king his glas s es from his nos e. T hen, with a c ynic al little laugh, he added. 'A nd you won't be doing any enhanc ing and em broidering in your s c hool reports if Mr S im on Carter has his way.' 'P leas e don't bring him up again,' I pleaded. 'Right, well, if that is the way you want it,' S idney told us . 'I will c ut out the c onvers ation bits and tell you, without glos s , what happened next. S o the headm as ter tells Delores -' A t this point the telephone rang. 'Leave it! Leave it! ' ordered S idney. 'I am determ ined to get to the end of this bles s ed s tory if it kills m e! ' 'No, I had better ans wer it,' I s aid, pic king up the rec eiver. 'W ell, go on,' s aid David, addres s ing S idney. 'S o the headm as ter s ays to Delores 'Hello?' I s aid. 'It is quite im pos s ible for m e to c ontinue,' S idney told him , 'with Gervas e prattling on in the bac kground.' 'B ut I've got to get m y bus ,' wailed J ulie. 'Gervas e, it's m e, Gerry,' c am e a dis tres s ed voic e down the phone. 'I'm in a s pot of bother.' 'W hat's happened?' I as ked. I c upped m y hand over the rec eiver. 'W ill y ou be quiet,' I told S idney, who had dec ided after all to c ontinue to regale J ulie and David with the ac c ount at W es t Challerton High. 'My c ar's broken down,' s aid Gerry. 'It s uddenly c ut out and I'm s tranded here in a lay-by on the wrong s ide of Fettles ham . I have to get hom e in a hurry.' 'Have you c alled the breakdown people?' I as ked. 'I have, but they'll be quite a while and I have s om ething urgent to do. I really hav e to get bac k. Could you pos s ibly c ollec t m e and take m e hom e? I wouldn't as k, Gervas e, if it weren't really im portant.' 'Of c ours e, no problem . T ell m e exac tly where you are.' 'Look,' I told m y c olleagues when I had put down the telephone and interrupting S idney yet again, 'I've got to go and get Gerry. Her c ar's broken down.' 'I'm forever telling her about that old c ar of hers ,' s aid David. 'It's not s afe, an attrac tive young wom an driving all over the c ounty in an old jalopy like that.' 'It's not as if s he c an't afford a better c ar,' rem arked J ulie. 'S om e of us , of c ours e, have to m ake do with public trans port. A nd on that s ubjec t, I'm off s inc e I'll m is s m y bus if I don't get m y s kates on,' and, with a wave of her hand, s he left the room . 'B ut what about m y s tory?' s houted S idney after her. 'I haven't finis hed m y s tory.' 'T ell us another tim e - a s horter vers ion,' c alled bac k J ulie. 'W ell, I s hall m ake a m ove,' s aid David, putting the report in his briefc as e and ris ing. 'I've had this week in a big way.' 'I really don't know why I bother,' s aid S idney, s haking his head and s lum ping bac k in his c hair. 'I really don't know why I bother.' Gerry was waiting at the s ide of the road, pac ing up and down and looking unc harac teris tic ally anxious and im patient. S he was us ually s uc h a c om pos ed and eas y-going s ort of pers on and I had never s een her in s uc h an agitated s tate. 'Oh, thank goodnes s ,' s he s aid breathles s ly, as I opened the pas s enger door for her to jum p in. 'It's really good of you to c ollec t m e, Gervas e. I'm s o grateful.' 'No problem at all. Now,' I s aid, as I eas ed out into the traffic , 'I take it we are heading for Hawthwaite?' I as ked. 'Oh, yes pleas e,' replied Gerry. 'I really am s orry to be s uc h a nuis anc e. T he c ar jus t s uddenly c ut out. For all m y knowledge of s c ienc e, I'm afraid the workings of the c ar engine are beyond m e. I phoned the breakdown people but they s aid they'd be over an hour and I jus t didn't know what to do. Did I drag you away from anything im portant?' 'J us t one of S idney's long s tories . I was glad to get away, to be hones t. It was luc ky you c aught m e bec aus e I was about to m ake trac ks when your c all c am e through.' Gerry did not reply but rubbed her hands together uneas ily, then glanc ed at her watc h. 'S o, what's the em ergenc y?' I as ked. 'W hat?' s he as ked s harply. 'T he em ergenc y,' I repeated. 'Y ou know, the s om ething urgent you have to do.' S he was s ilent for a m om ent. 'Oh, it's ... I really don't know what to s ay. I hones tly don't know where to s tart.' 'Y ou don't have to tell m e if you don't want to,' I s aid, gently. 'I'll jus t drop you off hom e and as k no ques tions . B ut I c an be very dis c reet, you know, and if you need any m ore help...' 'I do apprec iate your c om ing out. I know you will want to get on hom e and Chris tine will be wondering where you've got to. A nd on Friday night as well.' S he glanc ed at her watc h again. 'Oh, s he's us ed to m y s taying out late. A nyway, it's unlikely s he's bac k from s c hool yet. S he s tays late m os t evenings . I often get hom e before her and -' Geraldine was c learly not lis tening. 'A c tually, c ould you drop m e off jus t the other s ide of Fangbec k B ridge? T here's a row of red-bric k c ottages , jus t pas t the T hree Feathers pub.' 'Oh yes , I know them . B ut I thought you s aid you lived at the other s ide of the village?' 'I do,' Gerry replied, 'but I have to c ollec t s om eone.' S he took a deep breath, and then s aid, 'A nd then ac tually if you c ould run us hom e. Fortunately it's S aturday tom orrow s o I c an s ort the c ar out then.' 'Do you want m e to c ollec t you in the m orning,' I as ked her, 'and give you a tow to a garage?' 'No, no, you've been really kind as it is . I'll be able to deal with that m ys elf S he glanc ed at her watc h again and then rubbed her hands together. 'Gervas e, there is s om ething I have to tell you,' s he began, 'and I really don't know where to s tart. T he s om eone I have to c ollec t... oh, this is very diffic ult...' 'I think I c an s ave you the em barras s m ent, Gerry,' I s aid. 'I as s um e it is your little boy?' T here was s harp intake of breath. 'However did you know?' s he whis pered. 'I was s peaking at the T otterdale and Clearwell Golf Club dinner and I s at next to Mrs Hills , the wom an you rent the c ottage from . S he told m e you had a c hild.' 'W hen was this ?' Gerry as ked, s till in a s hoc ked whis per. 'Oh, s om etim e before Chris tm as .' 'Y ou've known for over s ix m onths ?' 'Y es .' Gerry releas ed a huge s igh, then threw bac k her head and gave a little laugh. 'A nd here I was thinking that it was the world's bes t-kept s ec ret. W hy ever didn't you m ention it?' 'I as s um ed you wanted to keep it a s ec ret - although heaven knows why.' 'How m any other people know?' 'None, s o far as I know. I haven't s aid a word to anyone - and that inc ludes Chris tine.' 'T hank you, Gervas e, a hundred tim es . Heavens , that's another thing I have to thank you for.' 'A nd dis c retion being m y m iddle nam e, I s hall c ontinue to rem ain as s ilent as the grave. B ut what I c annot unders tand, Gerry, is why you have dec ided to keep it s uc h a s ec ret? I m ean, it is not as though we are living in the Dark A ges . W ho nowadays is going to bother about s om eone who's a s ingle parent? T here's enough of them about.' 'It m ight not be the Dark A ges , Gervas e, but this is Y orks hire, not London. P eople c an be very narrow-m inded. A nd do you im agine for one m om ent that I would have had a hope in hell of getting this job if it were known that I had a three-year-old s on to look after and no hus band - an unm arried m other? J us t think of s om e of thos e who s it on the interview panels - Counc illor P eters on, for exam ple, with his ghas tly c om m ents about young wom en not being able to handle the diffic ult lads and his prehis toric views on the wom an's plac e being at hom e, c ooking and c leanings darning the s oc ks and looking after the kiddies . It's diffic ult enough for a wom an to get a s enior pos ition m s uc h a m an's world as it is , without being unm arried and with a young c hild. I jus t knew I c ould hold down this job and be a good m other as well.' 'Mm m , I s ee what you m ean.' I im m ediately thought of s om e of the m ore 'traditional' governors , c ounc illors and c leric s I had c om e ac ros s who m ade Counc illor P eters on appear pos itively liberal in his views . 'B ut, you know, Y orks hire people are generally very warm and generous and us ually don't judge others too has tily. I think you would have been rather s urpris ed at the reac tion, had you taken the ris k.' 'It will eventually have to c om e out,' c ontinued Gerry. 'I realis e that. J am ie s tarts nurs ery s c hool after the s um m er holidays and you know what the jungle telegraph is like.' 'S o no one, exc ept m ys elf, knows then?' I as ked. 'Harold knows . I told him before they offered m e the job. I thought it only fair to tell him , and he s aid it was nobody's bus ines s but m y own and if it did not affec t m y work then there was no reas on to s ay anything.' 'T hat s ounds like Harold,' I s aid. 'He's been a tower of s trength. In fac t, he's been like a father to m e, has Harold, and I will really m is s him terribly. I'm not looking forward to the arrival of S im on Carter, I have to s ay. He does n't s trike m e as the m os t unders tanding and tolerant of m en. He has already told m e he expec ts lots of late m eetings and evening events . I've not s topped worrying s inc e that dreadful enc ounter with him when he outlined all the c hanges he intends m aking. I c annot im agine S im on Carter being warm and generous and non-judgem ental. I really am dreading his c om ing.' 'J oin the c lub,' I rem arked. 'A nyway, I'll have to fac e that when I have to. I always try to c ollec t J am ie from the c hild-m inder at s ix. S he'll baby-s it for m e as well s o long as I give her good notic e. It's worked out pretty well.' S he glanc ed at her watc h for the um pteenth tim e. 'Until today, that is . S he's arranged to go out this evening.' 'W ell, we are nearly there now,' I reas s ured her. 'A nd I wouldn't worry about Mr Carter. A s Connie would s ay, "Y ou c an burn that bridge when you get to it."' * E arly the following Monday m orning S idney, David, Gerry and I were at the S taff Developm ent Centre for an ins pec tors ' m eeting. 'T hanks a m illion for Friday,' s aid Gerry quietly, plac ing a bottle of wine before m e on the table. 'I was in a real s tate. I hope you and Chris tine will enjoy this on one of the rare evenings you s pend together.' 'Oh, you s houldn't have bothered,' I told her, 'but thanks . It's very thoughtful of you. Has the c ar been fixed?' 'No, not yet. I'm in a hire c ar this week but I s hould have it bac k next Monday.' S he s ounded her us ual c om pos ed and c onfident s elf. 'A s I s aid to Gervas e the other night,' s aid David, peering over the top of his s pec tac les , 'you ought to get yours elf a reliable vehic le, Geraldine. Y ou c ould have broken down in s om e dark, des erted and dangerous plac e in the m iddle of nowhere with no s ign of life for m iles . T hen what would you have done?'

'I s hudder at the thought,' Gerry s aid. 'I m ean, you read all the tim e about young wom en being attac ked along lonely c ountry roads , dragged into the bus hes and as s aulted, left for dead in a ditc h, buried --' 'David,' I interrupted, 'm us t you be s uc h a prophet of doom . Y ou are getting m ore and m ore depres s ing lately.' 'It's a s ad fac t that there are all s orts of weird, violent, deranged and dangerous people at large,' he c ontinued oblivious ly, 'who prey on young wom en. My s is ter's daughter, P rudwen, is a c as e in point. S he was c om ing hom e from a pop c onc ert in Colwyn B ay with a friend las t year when one of thes e flas hers jum ped out of the bus hes , baring all. Rather unfortunately for the flas her, P rudwen and her friend are big s trapping girls and they were not the leas t bit frightened. More am us ed than anything. T hey had c aught the drum s tic ks whic h the drum m er in the band had thrown into the audienc e at the end of the c onc ert.' David nodded s agely. 'T hat little m an will not be s o keen on expos ing him s elf again, I c an tell you, not after P rudwen had finis hed with him . S he's taken up playing thos e s teel drum s , s o m y s is ter was telling m e las t week, s o s om e good c am e of it.' S idney entered the room , purs ued by Connie who was wearing her us ual bright pink nylon overall but, in plac e of the feather dus ter that m orning, s he held aloft a long and lethal-looking m op. 'I was m erely pointing out, Connie,' S idney was s aying in a weary tone of voic e, 'that there is little point in putting a notic e whic h s ays "W et Floor" right at the end of the c orridor where no one c an s ee it. T he s ign would be better, I would have thought, plac ed in the entranc e to forewarn thos e who are foolhardy enough to venture through the door in the firs t plac e that the floor is like an ic e rink. I very nearly fell full length.' 'P utting the notic e in the entranc e would c aus e an obs truc tion and be a health and s afety hazard,' announc ed Connie. 'P eople c ould fall over it.' 'A nd people c ould, and I nearly did, s lip on the wet floor,' s aid S idney. 'I always do m y floors on a Monday m orning, Mr Clam p, you know that. E ight o'c loc k prom pt before the teac hers arrive at nine for their c ours es is when I do m y floors . T hen I do the bras s fitm ents in the Gents and the was hbas ins in the Ladies . I always have done and I always will do. I never deleviate from m y routine. A nyway, I did wait until the ins pec tors had arrived before s tarting on the floor, s o it's your fault for being late.' B efore S idney c ould res pond, Connie turned her attention to the res t of us and s m iled. 'Now, I c alled in to s ay I have had a phone m es s age from Dr Y eats , who s aid he would be a bit late. He's tied up with that Mrs S avage at the m om ent.' 'I c an't think of anything m ore unpleas ant,' rem arked David. 'S o, s inc e we have a little tim e on our hands ,' s aid S idney, glanc ing in the direc tion of Connie, before gently pulling out a c hair and m aking s ure it did not leave a m ark on the highly polis hed floor, 'I s hall c onc lude m y s tory of Delores and the headm as ter of W es t Challerton High S c hool.' He looked in the direc tion of Connie as if to indic ate that s he c ould get on with her m opping but s he rem ained where s he was , s tanding s entinel at the door with her m op, like B ritannia hers elf. 'If you m us t,' s aid David. 'Now, it is far too long for m e to narrate the firs t part of the s tory,' S idney told us , 's o I s hall briefly s um m aris e the s tory s o far for your benefit, Geraldine. I was telling David and Gervas e that I was doing a two-day ins pec tion in W es t Challerton High S c hool at the beginning of las t week and on the firs t day eaves dropped on a c onvers ation between that dreadfully pom pous and s elf-opinionated headm as ter and one of the older pupils . T his girl was due to have a baby, one of thes e teenage pregnanc ies , and he was explaining to her that s he c ould s till c om e in for her exam inations whic h s he would s it in a s m all room rather than the hall. He was als o inform ing her that the Outward B ound week over the s um m er holidays was off bec aus e s he was not in a fit s tate, being five m onths pregnant, to go gras s -s kiing and abs eiling. W ell, on the following day old P ennington-S m ith s tands up in as s em bly, before all the s taff and pupils and announc es , "T here is a s pare plac e now available on the Outward B ound week over the s um m er holidays bec aus e of a late withdrawal."' S idney's fac e c reas ed with laughter. 'I nearly died when I heard what he s aid. A ll the s taff had to go out for laughing.' David gave a weak s m ile but I know I m us t have looked ac utely em barras s ed bec aus e I c ould not avoid im m ediately thinking of Gerry's c irc um s tanc es . 'W ell, I thought it was hilarious ,' s aid S idney, looking c res tfallen. 'A s pare plac e due to a late withdrawal! ' 'Mr Clam p,' s aid Connie, who was s till lis tening from the door and s haking her m op like a s pear, 'Delores , for your inform ation - and I as s um e you are talking about m y Delores - happens to be m y c ous in's girl and I'll tell you this . T hos e who get into trouble like what s he did are the innoc ent ones , thos e what m en take advantage of. It is no laughing m atter bringing up a c hild without a father. No laughing m atter at all.' W ith that s he s tom ped out. S idney hunc hed his s houlders , pulled the m os t exc ruc iating expres s ion and whis pered ac ros s the table, 'T ell m e where the hole is s o I c an c rawl into it.' 'It was in rather bad tas te,' rem arked David. 'E ven for you, S idney.' 'W ell how was I to know the girl was Connie's c ous in's daughter?' m oaned S idney. 'S he'll put toilet bleac h in m y tea after this .' 'Connie's right,' s aid Gerry. 'It's no laughing m atter bringing up a c hild without a father. It's a real s truggle. I s hould know.' 'A nd why s hould you know, m y dear Geraldine?' I opened m y m outh to try to head S idney off but I was too late. 'Don't tell us that you have a love c hild.' 'W ell, yes , S idney, ac tually I do.' 'Good God! ' exc laim ed S idney and, for onc e, was c om pletely los t for words . 'It is perhaps not the m os t brilliant tim e to tell you but I have a little boy c alled J am ie. He's three. J am ie's father is m arried and has a fam ily. I gues s I s hould have told you.' T here was what s eem ed like an interm inable s ilenc e. It was broken by S idney. 'W ell, Gerry, I... er... c ongratulations ! I m ean about having a little boy, not about... er... his father...' 'S top digging while you c an, S idney,' advis ed David. 'T he hole is bec om ing a bottom les s pit.' 'I really am s orry, Gerry,' s aid S idney, giving her a pathetic hangdog look. 'I didn't know... Y ou are quite right. It's ... it's no laughing m atter.' 'A c tually, your Delores s tory was quite am us ing,' s aid Gerry, s m iling, 'and you weren't to know.' 'B ut why didn't you s ay anything?' as ked David. 'I m ean, I know it's none of our bus ines s , but you s urely didn't think that we would think any les s of you? T hat we wouldn't be s upportive.' 'No,' replied Gerry quietly, 'I never thought that. I s uppos e I was jus t afraid of the gos s ip, what other people would s ay. It was rather s illy of m e to keep it a s ec ret.' 'W e all have s keletons in our c upboards ,' announc ed S idney, now rec overed s om ewhat from his earlier em barras s m ent. 'S om e m ore than others , I gues s ,' rem arked David, looking fixedly at S idney. T hen he turned his attention on m e. 'Y ou are pretty quiet, Gervas e. A ren't you s urpris ed? A h! P erhaps you already knew.' 'Y es ,' I replied. 'I m et J am ie on Friday night when I took Gerry hom e when her c ar broke down. A s m as hing kid.' Gerry threw m e a grateful glanc e. T here was no point in letting on that I had known for m onths . A t that m om ent Harold breezed in. 'S orry, s orry I'm late. I was tied up at County Hall with Mrs S avage and jus t c ould not get away.' He s m iled indulgently at David and S idney who were c hortling like s c hoolboys . He plac ed him s elf at the head of the table, pulled out a wad of papers whic h he plac ed before him and rubbed his large hands vigorous ly. 'W ell now, c olleagues , I've got s om e rather interes ting news .' 'T his s eem s a m orning for revelations ,' rem arked S idney. 'I'm not s ure to what you are referring, S idney, and m uc h as I would like to hear about it,' s aid Harold, 'there is really s om ething of great im portanc e that I m us t im part.' 'Don't tell us that you are running off with Mrs S avage,' s aid David. 'No, no, God forbid,' s aid Harold, c las ping his large hands in front of him and leaning forward over the des k. 'Lis ten, let us be s erious for a m om ent.' He took a deep breath, gave a great toothy s m ile and announc ed, 'I am s taying on for another term , m aybe two.' 'Y ou are w hat! ' we all exc laim ed. 'S taying on,' repeated Harold, grinning his big toothy s m ile. 'Dr Gore has as ked m e to withdraw m y res ignation for the tim e being and hold the fort until m y s uc c es s or has been appointed.' 'B ut your s uc c es s or has been appointed,' I s aid. 'Or have I m is s ed s om ething?' 'Mr S im on Carter, as you c orrec tly point out, Gervas e,' explained Harold, 'was indeed appointed but has unexpec tedly res igned.' 'He's not c om ing, then?' announc ed Gerry. 'E xac tly.' T here was a dis tinc tly gleeful tone in Harold's voic e. 'He's really res igned?' c ried S idney. 'Y es , he has dec ided that the job is not really quite right for him ,' c ontinued Harold. 'He has been having c ertain res ervations . If truth be told, I think he found the pros pec t a little too c hallenging. He has dec ided to return to m anagem ent c ons ultanc y.' 'W ell, he c ertainly knew all the buzz words ,' s aid David. 'He s eem ed to have m em oris ed all the c atc hphras es and c lic hes there are. I for one am delighted he is not taking over. It has lifted a great heavy burden from m e.' 'T his is great news indeed, Harold! ' exc laim ed S idney. 'Carter prom is ed a great deal whic h, to m y m ind, s ignified very little.' 'B ut is he allowed to break his c ontrac t?' as ked Gerry. 'He ac c epted the pos ition, didn't he?' 'Y ou are perfec tly right, Geraldine,' Harold told her. 'He would, under norm al c irc um s tanc es , be required to honour the c ontrac t he s igned but Dr Gore has s poken to m em bers of the E duc ation Com m ittee and s orted all that out. He c ertainly would not want a S enior Ins pec tor whos e heart was not in the job. I have to s ay, he was s ec retly very pleas ed, very pleas ed indeed, when Mr Carter as ked for an interview and reques ted to be releas ed from his c ontrac t. He had bec om e inc reas ingly uns ure about the m an. He found him very intens e and tiring and had als o rec eived num erous c om plaints about his abras ive m anner. A nd that is even before he has s tarted. E vidently Mr Carter, on his s everal vis its to the c ounty, has trodden on a great m any toes . He has already m anaged to ups et the res ourc e m anager, the princ ipal arc hitec t, the c hief ps yc hologis t, the princ ipal s c hool librarian, various c ounc illors and m em bers of the E duc ation Com m ittee and then it c am e to a head with Mrs S avage.' 'He ups et Mrs S avage?' dem anded David in m oc k horror. 'W ell, if he ups et Mrs S avage then he jus t has to go.' 'It was quite a dram atic c onfrontation, I hear,' explained Harold, 'and the c orridors of County Hall were ec hoing with their voic es . E vidently Mr Carter got on pretty well with Mrs S avage at their firs t m eeting but, having looked a little bit m ore thoroughly into her role and res pons ibilities and having S tudied all the various ques tionnaires , reports and Circ ulars whic h s he has produc ed for the ins pec tors , he found that there was room for im provem ent and for s om e "organis ational realignm ent". A lthough it was hardly in his rem it, he began to quiz her about her adm inis trative duties , told her s he s pent far too m uc h tim e on ines s ential tas ks and then when he c as t his c ovetous eye on that plus h offic e of hers s he evidently, in c olloquial parlanc e, "los t it". S he threatened him with Dr Gore and he threatened her with "downs izing".' 'Downs izing Mrs S avage! ' I exc laim ed. 'He c ertainly pic ked the wrong pers on to attem pt to downs ize.' 'B lowing up, yes ,' added David, 'but downs izing, oh no. T he thought is inc onc eivable! ' 'E vidently he wanted to s tream line everything,' c huc kled Harold. 'I would have jus t loved to have been a fly on the wall,' s aid S idney, leaning bac k in his c hair. 'S im on Carter and B renda S avage s lugging it out in the long c orridor at County Hall. W hat a s ight that m us t have been. I am tem pted to feel s orry for Mrs S avage but I will res is t the tem ptation and jus t enjoy a s m all gloat.' 'S o he's definitely not c om ing?' I as ked. 'No, Gervas e, for the um pteenth tim e, he's definitely not c om ing,' replied Harold. T hen he added, 'A nd due to his late withdrawal, you are s tuc k with m e for the tim e being.' T he whole room erupted into wild laughter. 'Is it s om ething I s aid?' as ked Harold, totally perplexed.

18 I thought Harold had been exaggerating when, one day during m y firs t year as a s c hool ins pec tor, he had told m e about the day of the Fettles ham S how. 'From nine o'c loc k in the m orning until s even o'c loc k that evening, I am at the m erc y of a queue of diffic ult and dem anding parents , teac hers , governors and whatever pres s ure groups have dec ided to m ake m y life a m is ery. I am bom barded with a battery of unans werable ques tions about the s tate of s c hools and s c hooling, I am as ked to s ort out im pos s ible problem s , have ins tant advic e on all m anner of things educ ational at m y fingertips and all with a s m ile on m y fac e.' I have to adm it that I had taken what Harold had s aid with a pinc h of s alt until the day of the Fettles ham S how, when I s aw the poor m an fac ing alone a phalanx of dis gruntled people. My duties at the s how that firs t year s ounded as though they would be pretty s traightforward: I had been deputed to judge the c hildren's poetry c om petition. A ll I was s uppos edly required to do was judge the poem s , s ay a few words , s m ile pleas antly and pres ent the book tokens and ros ettes to the five winners . 'It's a job of m inim al duties , s o you will be able to s pend a very pleas ant, uneventful day out,' Harold had inform ed m e - and Harold had been wrong. T he judging of the poetry c om petition had been a nightm are. My dec is ion to award the firs t prize to a c hild who had written a delightful poem - albeit a non-rhym ing one - about her grannie had s eem ingly been greeted with dis belief by everyone s ave for the winner's parents . T he Dales poetes s , P hilom ena P hillpots , a wom an of apparently outs tanding poetic talent and im m ens e experienc e, felt that a piec e of writing was not a poem unles s it rhym ed. A t the beginning of the s um m er term , Harold had c alled the ins pec tors together for another m eeting to dis c us s the plans for this year's Fettles ham S how. W e had s at there, glum ly, waiting to be told what our duties would be. I had hardly dared as k. 'A m I judging the poetry again?' 'No, no,' Harold had replied. 'P hilom ena P hillpots has been pers uaded to take that on, m uc h, I gues s , to your relief 'P hew! Y es , that is a great burden lifted.' 'However,' Harold had c ontinued, paus ing m om entarily to give m e a great, wide s m ile dis playing his im pres s ive s et of tom bs tone teeth, 'you hav e been nom inated to adjudic ate the c hildren's vers e-s peaking c om petition.' 'T he what! ' I had exc laim ed. 'Now, don't get all flus tered and diffic ult. It is the c om petition where youngs ters rec ite their favourite poem s . It's pretty s traightforward and m uc h eas ier, I s hould im agine, than judging the quality of a piec e of poetry. Muc h m ore s traightforward and les s c ontentious and not s ubjec t to pers onal preferenc e.' 'I im agined it would be pretty s traightforward when I judged the poetry two years ago and it turned out to be an experienc e I would rather forget,' I had s aid. 'Y ou'll be fine this tim e bec aus e you will have a c ouple of other judges to help you reac h a dec is ion s o it won't all fall on your s houlders .' 'T his s ounds like another hot potato,' I had m urm ured. 'No, no, Gervas e, not at all. It will be a piec e of c ake.' 'W ho are the other judges ?' I had as ked warily. 'W ell, there's Lord Marric k and Mrs Cleaver-Canning, both of whom I know you get on very well with. It will be like a day out. Like m eeting old friends . T ake Chris tine and enjoy yours elf One m orning, a week after he had given us the welc om e news that he would be c ontinuing pro tem as S enior Ins pec tor following the res ignation of S im on Carter, Harold c am e into the m ain offic e. I was , in fac t, the only ins pec tor pres ent s o he s at him s elf down at David's des k oppos ite m ine. 'Do you know, Gervas e,' he s aid, 'the Fettles ham S how is im m inent and for the firs t tim e s inc e I have been involved, I'm rather looking forward to it.' For the pas t few days , Harold had been a new m an. I believe that he too had been worried by the appointm ent but s inc e he had not been direc tly involved in it was unable to do anything m ore than try to ens ure that he left his job as free from problem s as pos s ible. 'Oh, Harold,' I groaned, 'the Fettles ham S how. I c an hardly bear to think about it. Do I really have to do that judging?' 'Y es , of c ours e you do. T o us e the term inology of our late departed S enior Ins pec tor des ignate, we all have to "run that extra m ile, get on board, pull in the s am e direc tion, give it our bes t s hot".' 'Don't you dare s tart on that gobbledegook! ' I exc laim ed. 'W ell, you c an't be the only one on the team to take his bat hom e.' I aim ed a ball of paper at him , whic h m is s ed by a m ile, and he laughed, 'S orry, it jus t s lipped out. B ut, to be s erious , Gervas e, S idney will be judging the art c om petition as us ual, David is organis ing the c hildren's s ports as he always does and Gerry has kindly agreed to arrange a c hildren's m odelling and c raft c om petition and in addition m ount a s c ienc e dis play. S he is really looking forward to it.' 'Firs t-year fervour! ' I s norted. 'S he'll learn.' 'W hat about m e,' Harold c ontinued, 's tuc k in that beas tly hot E duc ation T ent the whole day? A t leas t this year Dr Gore has agreed to join m e for part of the day and I s hall have Mrs S avage by m y s ide the whole tim e.' 'Huh, well,' I grum bled, 'perhaps I've got off pretty lightly after all. T he thought of a day behind a des k with Mrs S avage is an even m ore nightm aris h s c enario than the vers e-s peaking c om petition.' 'S plendid! ' c ried Harold. 'Y ou know, I think you are all rather hard on Mrs S avage. S he will be invaluable in deflec ting the diffic ult c us tom er and dealing with c ontentious is s ues . E vidently s he has bec om e quite popular, in fac t, s om ething of a c ult figure, at County Hall s inc e her c las h with S im on Carter. S he does have her faults , I will adm it, but when the c hips are down I would prefer to have Mrs S avage in m y c orner rather than the opponent's .' A nd s o it was that early on a bright and windles s J uly S aturday, before the gates were opened to the general public , I m ade m y way ac ros s the Fettles ham s howground in s earc h of the tent where the c hildren's vers e-s peaking c om petition was to take plac e. Under norm al c irc um s tanc es I would have been extrem ely apprehens ive and wis hing that the whole thing were over, but that m orning I was head over heels . I was walking on c louds . Nothing c ould pos s ibly ruin the inc redibly good m ood I was in. T he birds were c hirping, the s un was s hining, there was a s pring in m y s tep and all was right with the world - and it was not jus t bec aus e s c hools had gone on holiday the day before and we wouldn't have to s ee any m ore of the little darlings for weeks . 'Good m orning! ' I c alled to everyone I s aw. 'Lovely m orning, is n't it?' T he reas on for this elation was that the night before I had heard the m os t wonderful news . Chris tine and I had been s nuggled on the old s ofa in the partially-dec orated s itting-room at P eewit Cottage when s he whis pered in m y ear, 'I think we will have to get the s pare room dec orated pretty quic kly.' 'W hy?' I had as ked. 'I thought we'd agreed not to have anyone to s tay quite yet, not while the plac e is s uc h a m es s . A re you telling m e that we are expec ting vis itors ?' 'W ell, yes , we are,' s he had s aid. 'W ell, one anyway.' 'W ho?' S he had run the flat of her hand over her s tom ac h and s m iled enigm atic ally at m e. 'Y ou don't m ean...?' I had s tuttered. 'Y es , I'm pregnant.' Our neares t neighbour, Harry Cotton, m us t have fallen out of his bed with the nois e that I had m ade. I had run around the c ottage like a whirling dervis h, whooping and s c ream ing and jum ping in the air. It was the bes t news I had had s inc e - well, s inc e Chris tine had s aid s he would m arry m e. My lovely wife was going to join m e around one o'c loc k when we intended to treat ours elves to a bottle of c ham pagne, a leis urely lunc h and then s pend the afternoon looking around the exhibitions and s talls . Chris tine was bus y with s om eone els e that m orning. W hile Gerry was organis ing the m odelling and c raft c om petition, Chris tine had offered to look after J am ie s inc e the regular c hild-m inder was on holiday. 'W e're having a baby! W e're having a baby! ' I wanted to c all out to anyone I m et as I m ade m y way ac ros s the s howground. 'I'm going to be a father! Me! I'm going to be a daddy! ' I wanted to run around the s howground and yell the news at the top of m y voic e. 'Don't tell anyone jus t yet,' Chris tine had s aid quietly the evening before. 'Not until I know for s ure that the baby is at hom e here.' S he gently s troked her s tom ac h again. S o we agreed to wait a c ouple of weeks before announc ing it. On m y way ac ros s the s howground, I pas s ed the E duc ation T ent and dec ided to c all in briefly to s ay hello to Harold. I would have loved to have told him our am azing news . T o m y s urpris e, I found Mrs S avage s eated, as s tiff and haughty as ever, behind a large des k in the very c entre of the tent, the des k alm os t dis appearing under a bank of potted plants and flowers . A ll around were dis play boards and exhibition tables giving details of the E duc ation Departm ent. Mrs S avage was dres s ed for the oc c as ion in her 'ideal c ountrywom an's s um m er ens em ble': bright yellow c otton jac ket, wheat-c oloured roll-top s weater, c ream s lac ks , lim e green s ilk s c arf and expens ive pale green boots . S he was als o bedec ked in her us ual as s ortm ent of heavy m etal jewellery. A s I would have expec ted, her m ake-up was faultles s , her long nails were im pec c ably m anic ured and not a hair on her head was out of plac e. 'A h, good m orning, Mrs S avage,' I exc laim ed, with the exaggerated good hum our of a gam e s how hos t. I was s o happy I c ould have kis s ed even her. 'A nd how are you on this bright and s unny m orning?' 'I'm very well, thank you, Mr P hinn,' s he replied form ally. 'If you are looking for Dr Y eats , he has gone in s earc h of a c up of tea. W e have already been here a good half hour and no one has s een fit to bring any refres hm ents around.' 'It's s uc h good news , is n't it, that Dr Y eats will be s taying on for the tim e being?' 'Y es , indeed,' s he replied in a non-c om m ittal tone of voic e. S he was c learly not wanting to prolong this topic of c onvers ation. B ut I was . 'A nd s o unfortunate that Mr Carter felt unable to join us .' S he looked m e s traight in the eyes and twitc hed s lightly but m erely replied, 'T hat is a m oot point.' My next c om m ent s eem ed to wind her up like a c loc k-work toy. 'A nd he had s uc h great plans for the departm ent,' I rem arked c as ually. 'Huh, he had great plans , all right,' s he s aid m alevolently and with a c url of the lip. 'T he leas t s aid about Mr Carter the better, as far as I am c onc erned. I have never s een Dr Gore s o angry in the whole of the tim e I have been his P A . He's s uc h a c alm , rational and even-tem pered m an but he was apoplec tic when Mr Carter went bac k on his word. He had to take two as pirins and s it in a darkened room until he c alm ed down.' Mrs S avage was c learly unaware that Harold had already inform ed m e of Dr Gore's delight when Mr Carter had reneged. Mrs S avage c ontinued, 'A ll the tim e I s pent s ending out letters and applic ation form s , all the tim e s pent s hort-lis ting and c onvening the appointm ent panel, a full day interviewing on top of that and then, as large as life, he inform s Dr Gore he wanted s om ething m ore c hallenging. More c hallenging! A nd what a rude and ins ens itive m an he turned out to be! ' Her fac e was flus hed with anger and s he breathed out heavily. I had c learly touc hed an extrem ely raw nerve and I was enjoying the s pec tac le. 'I thought you rather took to him ,' I c om m ented, winding her up again. 'Rather took to him ?' s he repeated s lowly. 'Rather took to him ? He was an odious little m an and, as you s aid, it is very good news indeed that Dr Y eats will be rem aining with us .' Her voic e s uddenly s oftened. 'I have always found Dr Y eats a perfec t gentlem an and very eas y to work with.' T hen, a s light s m ile played on her lips and s he looked again into m y eyes 'It will be a big m an, or wom an, who tries to fill his s hoes , Mr P hinn.' T ouc he, Mrs S avage, I thought to m ys elf. A t that m om ent, the s ubjec t of our c onvers ation padded heavily into the tent c arrying two plas tic c ups of tea. Of all the c harac ters in the s howground that m orning, Harold looked the leas t like a s c hool ins pec tor. W ith his huge fram e, great broad s houlders and hands like s pades and dres s ed as he was in a rather loud blac k and white s triped s uit he looked m ore like a Mafia enforc er. 'Hello, Gervas e. Good to s ee you,' he s aid genially. 'Here we are, B renda, one c up of tea.' He plac ed the plas tic c up down before her. 'I'm s orry I c ouldn't get that herbal s tuff you us ually drink but this is warm and wet and better than nothing.' 'It will be m os t ac c eptable, Harold,' s im pered Mrs S avage, giving him a c harm ing s m ile. 'A nd thank you for taking the trouble to fetc h m e one.' S he then reac hed into a pale c anvas bag bes ide her c hair and produc ed a c hina m ug into whic h s he poured the c ontents of the plas tic c up. 'I c annot bear to drink out of plas tic ,' s he told us . 'A nd, of c ours e, you never know what germ s you c an pic k up us ing a rec eptac le s om eone els e has us ed.' S he took a s ip and nodded. 'Mos t ac c eptable.' It oc c urred to m e that there would be little danger of c ontrac ting anything dreadful from a dis pos able plas tic c up but I didn't s ay anything. A nyway, I was intrigued by their us e of firs t nam es . I had never heard either of them addres s eac h other like that before. 'I c an nip bac k and get you a c up if you would like one, Gervas e,' s aid Harold pleas antly. 'No, thanks . T he vers e-s peaking c om petition is s c heduled for eleven-thirty, nic e and early, thank goodnes s , s o I c an get it over and done with and then relax for the res t of the day. I'm on m y way to c hec k things are organis ed, and jus t c alled in to s ay hello.' 'Mrs S avage was telling m e earlier, Gervas e, that the CE O was well pleas ed with the "Literac y and Learning" initiative. I'm s ure he will have a word with you when he arrives . I'm expec ting him to join us later this m orning.' 'Really?' I s aid, s m iling as I realis ed that the pair of them reverted to form al nam es when it c am e to bus ines s . W ell, why not? T hey had worked with eac h other for a good num ber of years . 'Y es , he was very pleas ed,' s aid Mrs S avage, looking at m e over the rim of her m ug as s he took another s ip of the tea. 'Dr Gore will be s ending you a m em orandum thanking you and your c olleagues for your hard work with the initiative. He rec eived s om e very c om plim entary letters from the headteac hers of the s c hools involved who s aid they found the vis it m os t valuable and inform ative.' 'W ell, that's good to hear, Mrs S avage,' I s aid, s m iling s m ugly, and then rather wic kedly dec ided to twis t the knife another few turns . 'I think everything went like c loc kwork. It's good to know that Dr Gore is bac k to his c alm , rational and even-tem pered s elf after all the trouble with Mr Carter.' 'Mr P hinn,' s aid Mrs S avage, plac ing the m ug down firm ly on the des k, 'I am here to help Dr Y eats deal with enquiries from the general public about educ ation and not to dis c us s Mr Carter whom you have an unpleas ant habit of bringing up.' S he was looking quite hot and flus tered again. 'I adm it I found Mr Carter a rude and detes table little m an and we are well rid of him . A nd that, Mr P hinn, is m y las t word on the m atter.' 'Y es , of c ours e,' I s aid m eekly, and then returning to the exaggerated good hum our of the quiz s how hos t, I bid them both farewell. 'Have a nic e day! ' I c alled as I m ade for the exit. I had only gone a few m ore yards in the direc tion of the bright red and yellow m arquee where the vers e-s peaking c om petition was to take plac e when a hus ky voic e boom ed behind m e, a voic e with whic h I was very fam iliar, 'Now then, Gervas e! ' I turned to find Lord Marric k in a bright s triped blazer whic h had s een better days , a ridic ulous ly large c oloured bow-tie and s porting a rather battered, wide-brim m ed s traw hat. He c arried a walking s tic k with a fox-head handle. 'Good to s ee you,' he s aid, holding out a hand. 'How are things ?' 'Couldn't be better, Lord Marric k,' I replied. 'A nd what about you?' 'B loody exc ellent! Rum do this about Dr Y eats 's s uc c es s or, eh?' 'Y es , I've jus t been talking about that.' 'Fellow upped and went like a fox with the hounds at his heels , I hear.' He fingered the top of his walking s tic k. 'Didn't take to him m ys elf. Clever m an, no doubt about that, but far too m uc h to s ay. A nyhow, how's m arried life treating you?' 'Marvellous ! B es t thing I ever did,' I s aid, m eaning every word of it. 'W ell, let's have a drink in the beer tent later to c elebrate the good things of life - but we've got to get this judging over and done with. S houldn't be a long job, s hould it?' He didn't wait for a reply. 'A ny s ign of the patter of tiny feet yet, eh?' He was nothing if not blunt. I would have loved to have told him . 'Not yet,' I lied. 'W ell, you haven't had m uc h tim e yet. Now, c om e along then, let's get this vers e-reading s how on the road, s hall we?' On our way to the tent I was treated to a running c om m entary. 'Margot Cleaver-Canning is joining us . I know you've m et Margot and her long-s uffering hus band. He's a m artyr is old W inc o. Mind you, Margot is a s plendid wom an - feis ty, I s hould s ay. S alt of the earth. Calls a s pade a s hovel.' He s topped at the entranc e to the tent and took m y arm . 'My goodnes s , you s hould have s een her out hunting. S he c ould hold her own with the bes t when s he was out with the T otterdale. Never s een a m ore fearles s jum per than Margot Cleaver-Canning - although, of c ours e, that was before s he c arried the extra baggage, if you s ee what I m ean. S he'd gallop up to this drys tone wall and if her m ount refus ed, s he'd s ort of put her hors e in revers e and the beas t would kic k down the bloody wall to let her through. T rained him to do it, s he did. Nothing would s top her. A ll end of trouble her father had getting her out of s uc h s c rapes . A nd if you s ee her on the golf c ours e, s he's a veritable virago. W om en like that are the bac kbone of B ritain. Great-grand-daughter of General Cleaver-B oiling of the 12th Royal Lanc ers , you know. A ll in the bloodline.' Mrs Cleaver-Canning was waiting for us in the tent. S he was dres s ed in a s hapeles s m ultic oloured c otton tent of a dres s , a huge red hat and wore pris tine white gloves . 'Now then, Margot, m y dear,' boom ed Lord Marric k, 'how are you?' 'I'm very well thank you, B unny,' s he replied, 'and I s ee you're looking well.' B unny? I s aid to m ys elf. B unny! I looked at the rotund, red-c heeked c harac ter with his great walrus m ous tac he and his hair s hooting up from a s quare head. It would be diffic ult to find anyone who looked les s like a rabbit than he. 'I'm as fit as a butc her's dog,' growled the peer. 'A nd look who I've found outs ide.' 'Good m orning, Mr P hinn,' s aid Mrs Cleaver-Canning, extending a gloved hand regally. 'Good m orning,' I replied. 'It's very nic e to s ee you again. Is ... er... W inc o here too?' 'Good grac ious , no! I've s ent him off. W inc o knows as m uc h about poetry as I do about the Mes s ers c hm itts he us ed to s hoot down. He'll be in the beer tent if I know W inc o, regaling anyone who will lis ten to him about his war exploits . Now, Mr P hinn, Lord Marric k and I are relying on you to help us though this judging how-de-do. I was approac hed to do this as P res ident of m y loc al branc h of the W .I. and, although I am very happy to oblige and I do have s om e lim ited experienc e in this field, I have never judged c hildren before.' 'A nd I don't know a bloody thing about poetry,' added Lord Marric k. 'P ardon m y Frenc h. However, I am s ure Gervas e here will tell us what to do, Margot, s o I wouldn't worry. It s eem s pretty s traightforward, as far as I c an s ee. W e lis ten to a few kiddies perform ing their poem s and pic k the winners .' 'Let's hope s o,' I s aid. 'B ut very often it is the parents who c aus e the problem s , not the c hildren.' I had a niggling feeling that this was going to be a re-run of the dis as trous poetry c om petition and as the m orning progres s ed that feeling grew. Five s m all s quare s taging bloc ks had been pus hed together to form a m akes hift s tage at the end of the m arquee, fac ing the judges ' table. B ehind us was row upon row of wooden c hairs for the audienc e to s it on. T he area would have looked a little m ore c heerful and welc om ing had s om eone had the fores ight to paint or drape the bloc ks in bright c olours and put a few c olourful plants here and there. A s it was , it looked a rather drab environm ent for the c hildren to pres ent their poem s . T he organis er of the event was an am iable but c om pletely dis organis ed m an with a s oft voic e and an abs ent-m inded expres s ion. He had the irritating habit of biting his bottom lip and punc tuating all his replies to m y ques tions with, 'W ell, what do you think, Mr P hinn?' I c hec ked that there was the requis ite num ber of book tokens and ros ettes to award, agreed to introduc e the event and that Lord Marric k would pres ent the prizes . I went in s earc h of the s howground announc er to as k him to inform the public over his louds peaker that the vers e-s peaking c om petition would be taking plac e in thirty m inutes . T his had never oc c urred to the organis er. I c ould vis ualis e the c hildren pres enting their poem s to an em pty m arquee. On the way bac k, I diverted to the E duc ation T ent, whic h was already exc eedingly bus y, but I m anaged to attrac t Mrs S avage's attention. 'Might I borrow a few of your plants ? I will bring them bac k very s oon,' I s aid and without giving the wom an a c hanc e to objec t, I s c ooped up four big pots from in front of her table, gave her a c hees y grin and left quic kly, ignoring her little bleats of 'Mr P hinn, Mr P hinn.' W hen I arrived bac k in the m arquee, I found to m y s urpris e that the plac e was filling up fas t. T hings s eem ed to be looking up, I thought, as I plac ed the pots of flowers in front of the little s tage. A ll the entrants had arrived, been told the order of their appearanc e and the judges had a full lis t of poem s for rec itation with nam es of all the c hildren. A t 11.30 on the dot, I welc om ed the audienc e, told them what a treat was in s tore and introduc ed m ys elf and m y fellow judges . I then as ked for the firs t c hild to deliver his piec e. Onto the ros trum c lam bered a nervous -looking boy with a s tartled expres s ion. He entertained us with a laboured rendering of 'T he Highwaym an', prom pted frequently by a parent who followed his progres s in a large book from the s ide of the s tage. A fter him c am e a large girl who gave a m os t original perform anc e of 'Daffodils ' by W illiam W ords -worth. Dres s ed in a bright yellow dres s , s he took to floating around the s tage like a c loud, waving her arm s in the air, m im ing the fluttering and the danc ing of the flowers in the breeze and all the while rec iting the vers e in a loud s ing-s ong voic e. W hen s he got to the lines : 'For oft, when on m y c ouc h I lie, In vac ant or in pens ive m ood', s he c lapped her hand to her forehead dram atic ally as though s uffering from a partic ularly painful m igraine and put on a fac e whic h was neither vac ant nor pens ive. T he rem arkably thin youth who followed her m ounted the s tage with am iable lankines s and m anaged to deliver a piec e of S hakes peare as if he were rec alling a s hopping lis t. Next was an older girl, dres s ed in a V ic torian-s tyle dres s with lac e-up boots , who ac c om panied her rendering of 'T he Green E ye of the Little Y ellow God' with the m os t elaborate m ovem ents and fac ial expres s ions . S he pointed towards the audienc e, grim ac ed as if the boots s he was wearing were too tight and belted out the lines with gus to. A nd s o the perform anc es went on and on until the pen-ultim ate entrant s trode to the s tage like a giraffe. My heart s ank. It was P ollyanna P hillpots . W hen I had judged the ill-fated poetry c om petition two years before, one of the entrants was the daughter of the Dales poetes s , P hilom ena P hillpots . P ollyanna, at the tim e, had been a m iniature replic a of her m other: thin, gaunt-looking with wais t-length s andy hair and dres s ed identic ally in a long, flowered-print dres s . T he c hild had produc ed a trite little vers e about gam bolling lam bs and fluffy white s heep and s he and her m other had not been bes t pleas ed when it failed to win a prize. Now here s he was again, a great deal taller, and I had an unnerving feeling that in the audienc e s om ewhere was the Dales poetes s hers elf, watc hing m e like a hawk. I had heard that the poetry c om petition, whic h P hilom ena P hill-pots would be judging, would be taking plac e at three o'c loc k and had m ade a m ental note to give that event a wide birth. 'T he poem I am going to rec ite,' s tarted the girl in the bland tones of an undertaker giving his c ondolenc es , 'has been written by m y m other, the fam ous Dales poetes s , P hilom ena P hillpots .' T here was a favourable m urm ur from the audienc e. 'It is c alled, "In the Country". If you are in the c ountry W ell, don't jus t walk on by, B ut s tay awhile, s quat on a s tile A nd s it beneath the s ky. In this very bus y world A world that's full of c are W e never give ours elves T he tim e to really s top and s tare, T o lis ten to the c ountry s ounds T hat fill the m orning air. Hear the little bec k a-gurgling

S ee the great dark river burbling Feel the whis pering wind a-teas ing S ee the winter puddles freezing Hear the peewit's plaintive c alling S ee the gentle s now a-falling... I found m ys elf s witc hing off; the m ention of the peewit m ade m e think of our c ottage, of Chris tine, and the news that I was keeping c los e to m y heart. I c am e to with a s tart when, the poem evidently having finally ended, there was a ripple of applaus e and s om e exc eptionally loud c lapping from the bac k. I didn't need to turn round. I c ould s ee in m y m ind's eye a thin, gaunt-looking wom an with wais t-length s andy hair and dres s ed in a long, flowered-print dres s . P ollyanna gave a little bow and loped off the s tage. T he final entrant, a s harp-fac ed boy of about ten with a s c attering of frec kles and wavy red hair, c lam bered on the ros trum . 'W ell, well, well,' I m urm ured to m ys elf. It was little T erry Mos s up of W illingforth S c hool. Mis s P ilkington m us t have worked wonders to have pers uaded him to perform . 'T his piec e of Y orks hire dialec t vers e was written in 1909 by B en T urner,' s aid the boy in a c lear, loud and c onfident voic e. T hen, looking direc tly at our judging table and the audienc e behind us , he began his poem : W hativer tas k you tac kle, lads , W hativer job you do, I' all your ways , I' all your days , B e hones t through and through: P lay c ric ket. If c laads oppres s you wi' their gloom , A n' t's un s eem s los t to view, Don't fret an' whine, A s k t's un to s hine, A n' don't o' livin' rue: P lay c ric ket. If you're i' debt, don't growl and grunt, A n' wis h at others had T 's am e want o' luc k; B ut s how m ore pluc k, A n' ne'er m ak others s ad: P lay c ric ket. If in your days there's c honc e to do Good deeds , then reight an' fair, Don't hes itate, A n' wait too late, A n' s ay you'n done your s hare: P lay c ric ket. W e've all a row to hoe, that's true, Let's do it bes t we c an; It's nobbut onc e W e have the c honc e T o play on earth the m an: P lay c ric ket. T he judges retired to the tea tent to deliberate. 'W ell, I rec kon this is going to be a long bus ines s ,' s aid Lord Marric k, s troking his m ous tac he. 'I m ean there was a lot of talent there, a lot of talent.' 'A nd s om e very interes ting, not to s ay unus ual renderings ,' added Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'I thought the girl doing the m im e to the "Daffodils " was going to fall off the s tage at one point. If I didn't know better I s hould s ay s he'd been on the c ider. S he did very well to keep her balanc e and c ontinue to s ay the words . A nd another thing, if I were the m other of the young m an rec iting that S hakes peare, I would be extrem ely worried about his health. He looked unnaturally thin to m e. A norexic I s hould s ay.' 'Y es , well it's the poem s we're here about, Margot, not the s tate of the entrants ' health.' 'My father, God res t his s oul,' c ontinued Mrs Cleaver-Canning, 'us ed to give a very im pres s ive rendering of "T he Green E ye of the Little Y ellow God" with all the ac tions . It brought bac k m any a pleas ant Chris tm as at Cleaver Hall, that poem .' 'W ell, I'm going to put m y c ards on the table,' announc ed Lord Marric k. 'I thought one s tood out head and s houlders above the res t.' 'Y es , there was one I liked very m uc h m ore than the others ,' agreed Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'S o,' s aid Lord Marric k, 'how are we going to play this , then, Gervas e? S hall we go through them one by one and c om pare our m arks ?' 'I, too, have m y favourite,' I s aid, but didn't rec kon that m y two c olleagues would agree. 'Of c ours e, we are not judging the c ontent of the poem s , it's the perform anc e, the pres entation, us e of the voic e, tim ing, expres s ion, how the words are interpreted, that s ort of thing, P erhaps we s hould s tart by s aying who eac h of us thinks is the bes t.' 'V ery well,' s aid Lord Marric k. 'I'll go firs t. Never been one to be bac kwards in c om ing forwards , as m y gam ekeeper tells m e often enough. T he c heeky-fac ed little lad at the end. I thought he was the bes t. Not a line fluffed, good s trong voic e, bags of c onfidenc e and he got the dialec t off to a turn. T hat's m y opinion, for what it is worth.' 'W ell, that's two of us ,' s aid Mrs Cleaver-Canning. 'I loved the poem . My father was a s talwart of the Y orks hire Dialec t S oc iety for m any years and was a great one for enc ouraging the produc tion of Y orks hire dialec t literature. I did think the little boy gave of his bes t. He was a delight.' 'T his is not going to be protrac ted at all,' I s aid with a great s ens e of relief and s atis fac tion. 'I too think the las t entrant was the bes t.' 'Great S c ot! ' exc laim ed Lord Marric k. 'W e are unanim ous .' Little T erry Mos s up jum ped up onto the s tage to rec eive his firs t prize. He beam ed as he took the book token and ros ette from Lord Marric k before thanking him . 'Cheers m ate,' he s aid, giving the peer a wink and a thum bs up. He then fac ed the audienc e and, with a trium phant look, c lenc hed a fis t, punc hed the air and s houted, 'Y eah! ' like a footballer who had jus t s c ored the winning goal. Later that afternoon, I s at with Chris tine at a table in the s uns hine outs ide the tea tent. I was s o happy. W e had had a delic ious lunc h, and then s pent our m oney rather haphazardly. Chris tine had bought a s tac k of s auc epans , and a patc hwork throw for the bed, and I had fallen for a beautifully-m ade bird table whic h I thought would look great in the garden of P eewit Cottage. W ith our purc has es piled on the ground bes ide us , we were now indulging ours elves with a c ream tea. 'Got to eat for two, now,' s aid Chris tine, her eyes s parkling. 'B ut that does n't m ean you have to as well,' and s he took the las t bit of s c one off m y plate and popped it into her m outh with a grin. A t that m om ent, a s m all boy with ic e c ream s m eared round his m outh and a c one nearly the s ize of his head walked pas t. 'Hey, T erry,' I c alled. 'W ell done winning the c om petition. Y ou did really well.' T he boy c am e ac ros s to where we were s itting. 'A ye,' he agreed. 'I didn't do too bad, did I?' 'T his is the winner of the vers e-s peaking c om petition,' I told Chris tine. 'Congratulations ,' s he s aid. 'Y ou m us t have been very good.' 'I was all right,' replied the boy, taking a great lic k of his ic e c ream . 'A nd are you liking s c hool a bit better now?' I as ked. 'Naw, not really,' he replied. 'I wunt go if it was left to m e.' 'A nd are you behaving yours elf?' I as ked. 'A llus do,' he replied, with a twinkle in the eye. 'A nd how's the football?' 'Not bad.' 'Did you get into the J unior S ide, then?' 'Naw, they din't want m e, but it's not end o' t'world, is it?' 'No,' I agreed. 'A nd you c an always try again next year.' ''A ppen I c an,' he replied, taking another im m ens e lic k of the ic e c ream . 'Is this your girl friend, then?' he as ked, nodding in the direc tion of Chris tine. 'No, this is m y wife.' 'Have you got any kids ?' 'No, we haven't any c hildren,' I replied, s m iling. 'Mi m um - m i real m um - s ays they're m ore trouble than they're worth, are kids .' He s niffed and took another lic k. ''A ppen s he's reight.' He thought for a m om ent. 'It's not been a bad day this , 'as it?' 'No, it's not been a bad day,' I agreed. 'A nd what have you been learning at s c hool then, T erry?' 'Not m uc h,' he ans wered. T hen after a thoughtful paus e, he announc ed, 'I do know how to m ek babies , though.' Chris tine c hoked on the tea s he was jus t at that m om ent drinking, and c oughed and s pluttered it all over m e, hers elf and the table. Here we go again, I thought to m ys elf: the inquis itive c hild who as ks a tric ky ques tion or regales you with an em barras s ingly blunt obs ervation. I prepared m ys elf to s m ile widely, nod s agely and be as evas ive as pos s ible. I tried not to look in the leas t s hoc ked and replied in a very c as ual voic e, 'Really?' 'A ye I do. I've jus t learnt how to m ek babies .' He gave his ic e c ream c one another elaborate lic k. 'Do you know how to m ek babies then?' he as ked. 'I do, yes ,' I replied and looked over to Chris tine who was holding a handkerc hief to her m outh in an attem pt to s m other her laughter. T here was another long paus e. 'How do you m ek babies , then?' the boy as ked, looking m e s traight in the eye. 'Y ou go firs t,' I told him . 'W ell,' he s aid, looking up at the c loudles s blue s ky, 'I knoc k the "y" off and add "i-e-s ". Is that how you m ake babies , then?' 'E xac tly,' I replied and, putting m y arm s around the m other-to-be, I gave Chris tine a great hug and a kis s .

For Connie 'T is on a c ertain S unday, A s pec ial tim e of year, Old s oldiers from all B ritain S tand to attention here. T he nois e is hus hed in London On this very s pec ial day, P oppies on the Cenotaph, Red am ids t the grey. T wo m inutes ' s pec ial s ilenc e A s we think of thos e who fell, W ho died for K ing and Country In that other plac e c alled Hell. A nd thos e legions of old s oldiers Like s hadows , m arc h on by, A nd they hold their bodies proudly, A nd s tare towards the s ky.