To Be Honest(52)

* * *

I find Alicia just outside with Harry, wrapped up ‘cos it’s nippy. I want to disappear, leave them to share the frozen, iced bike shed and sweet, scalding, sippy hot chocolate together. I don’t, though. I tell her I need her. She comes, but not before Harry’s kissed both of her thumbs and cuddled her tight.

We return to the Eng. office harbour. I tell her the news.

“So we won’t need to summon your mother.”

“I’m confused, Miss. I never cheated then?’

She’s agog; can’t believe that I might hold the key to a final reprieve. She looks suspiciously at my face. “You’re not joking? You’re telling the truth?”

“I am, Alicia, yes. There is one thing, though.”

I tell her not to just let things go with the flow but to set goals and think big. “’Cos you never know what’s round the next corner. You’re on the right path, Alicia Payne. Stay truthful. Be honest. Stay out of the rain.”

She looks weirded out now. But finally I push my luck and say,

“Oh, Alicia. Also please try to be nicer to year 10s. You’re leaving school soon. There’s one in particular. Lisi Reynolds.”

A tune starts up somewhere, all regal. Like Shakespeare’s in town. She watches me carefully. Starting to frown, she then switches her mind and she smiles instead.

“Lisi Reynolds,” she says with a shake of her head. “My brother just loved her. Before he left Fairmere, I mean. James said she was loyal and true to that queen Josh Meadows. He thought she was brilliant. I don’t know ‘bout that but you’re right. I’m a bit of a cow to her. I think I might say I’m sorry.”

She literally skips down the hall. And I think, that beats it all. And then I think, no Payne; all gain.

* * *

One forty. The last time I’ll see this class in a room before next year. They’re all hyped up on sugar and countdowns ‘til home time. I get posh hot chocolate. Some candles from Jenny. There’s a tear from Megan, though whether it’s real or not is debatable. Siobhan’s bought in a festive joke app and I let her scroll through it to find some. I’m feeling tense but quite festive.

“Right, Miss. Here’s one, then: ‘what’s Santa’s favourite pizza?’”

“Deep pan, crisp and even,” I deadpan. Her face crumples.

“’kay Holly, here’s one for you: “What’s snowy and minty?”

“A polo bear; easy.” Cackling.

“Miss, Miss, I’ve got one.” Ricky calls from the corner by the computers, crafting snowflakes from chocolate money shells. “How do snowmen get around?”

I shrug. The class shrugs.

“On dildos.”

There’s silence and it takes me a while to realise he means ‘Icicles.’ Ricky’s too clever for his own good sometimes. We move on, take the register.

Then it’s time for Review.





Chapter 21: Friday pm, twelfth night. One hour to go


And it’s two o’clock.

Mr Underwood’s flustered. You know from the way his tie flaps, hands revolve. ‘Cos there’s been a delay in refreshments. The school kitchen’s gone and packed up. A disaster: the end of term feast is the utmost highlight of Last Day, ‘cos the ravening beasts fill the atrium after Review.

As he says, “oh dear, if only I knew someone close.”

“I could help,” says Mum, who’s just arrived. It’s like Father Christmas’ wife has nose-dived Fairmere school, ‘cos she’s wearing the dress but it’s strewn with red patchwork, fur trimming, some stars and a moon. It makes me quite breathless. She’s clearly worked hard with the sewing but enjoyed it: it’s there in the colours, the shapes and the leftover bear on one buttock, pulled taught. She’s made it all playful and not grown up as I’d first thought that dress was. Not grown up at all.

“Could you really?”

I’m hearing all this from behind the stage curtain. The kids start to hiss as they sense that Review might not start off on time.

“Yes, after my daughter’s dance. I’ll go back. I’ve masses of food at home. I’ve been baking. And of course I could. Yes, that’s fine.”

The opening speech is then done. Mr U takes a bow and then gives the stage up to the coolest, most brilliant teacher in town (that’s not me). Mr Morlis springs up the steps; wearing a Country and Western style outfit. I watch Josh’s face slide about with amazement. Mum almost faints. He takes his place at the microphone.

“Boys and girls, ladies and gents. I’m delighted to be here. I’m sure all of you meant to give your great Headteacher a round of applause.”