Page 13 of Lessons in Life

ROBYN

I’d assumed that now I’d been at St Mede’s for a whole term and had established myself with both the staff and the kids, the teaching itself would be easier. Easier than in those hellish first weeks when I’d had to constantly tighten the reins and crack the whip in order to keep control of the hard-work kids in my care. I left Sorrel – who’d been unusually quiet during the fifteen-minute car journey into school – at the main entrance and immediately made my way down to the drama studio to prepare for lessons. As I headed back out into the school grounds, taking a shortcut from the basement to the staffroom for the coffee I couldn’t start the day without, I offered up thanks to that great teacher in the sky that I didn’t, as a supply teacher, have a tutor group of my own to prepare and be responsible for. This fact alone generally gave me another ten to fifteen minutes at the start of each day: time to catch up with the seemingly never-ending marking and planning, once the rest of the staff had departed for their registration groups.

I was shaking icy raindrops from my mass of black curls and debating whether I actually had time for coffee when Mason popped his head round the door.

‘Ah, found you.’ Mason came into the staffroom, closing the door behind him.

‘I wasn’t hiding.’ I pulled a face. ‘Oh, all right then, I was. You looking for me?’ I narrowed my eyes slightly, anticipating yet more work being chucked in my direction. ‘What?’

‘Celia Logan’s not in. And…’ Mason frowned. ‘…won’t be in for some time, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh?’ My heart sank; I knew what was coming. ‘Escaped, has she?’

‘Broken pelvis. She was air-ambulanced off Courcheval 850 at the end of the day on Saturday. A snowboarder took her out. She was only able to contact me here at school once you’d all left yesterday or I could have let you know what I’ve had to come up with, at the meeting itself. Mind you, I had enough on my plate to deal with what with Joel, the police, the press and then the bloody Sattar brothers.’

‘Right.’ I cursed under my breath.

‘So, I’d like you to step in as form teacher for her class for the foreseeable future, Robyn. Could you get along there now? Pronto? There’s no one with them.’

‘Are you saying I’ve to be… to bemotherto the worst class in the school? Year 9CL are now officially my responsibility? Oh, I don’t think so, Mason. In fact, Iknownot so. Come on, I’m still in my ECT years. They’ll eat me alive.’

Mason laughed. ‘Theirmother? I’ve never heard the role of a form tutor equated to mothering. No,’ he cajoled, ‘you’ll be their form teacher, their mentor and confidante. They’ll come to you when they can’t cope, when they’re upset, worried, frightened of their world and what it throws at them…’

‘They’re just as likely to be throwing stuffat me. And, they know more about the world than I do. You should hear what they get up to once school is out. Actually, when they’re still in school, to be honest.’ I knew I was gabbling, playing for time, but I couldn’t stop. Once I stopped talking, Mason would find a way in and I’d be doomed. Doomed to be 9CL’s form teacher for eternity. ‘And who doIgo to whenI’mfeeling upset, worried and bloody frightened?’

‘You know you can always come to me, Robyn. My door’s always open to you…’

Ignoring the suggestive look in Mason’s beguiling brown eyes – the look that had seduced me into his bed only a couple of months earlier – I tutted, but carried on in the same vein. ‘Frightened like I am now, Mason, at the very thought of facing them every morning for registration? At least when I take them just once a week for their drama session, I know, a bit like visiting the dentist, or… or… Christmas or… or… having a smear test I won’t be having to put myself through it again for a while.’

‘While we’re at it, Robyn, and I confirmed this with Melanie Potter yesterday, we’d like to offer you the position of drama and English teacher on a proper contract. Keeping you on here on a supply basis is bloody expensive, to be honest. I’ll get all the papers to sign over to you asap…’

‘Mason, I told you yesterday, no. I need to be able to be up and off if Fabian decides he wants to be back in London for his work.’

‘I thought he’d runawayfrom London? Left his responsibilities when it all got too much for him?’

‘Mason, leave it out. Please? OK, OK, I’ll go and register 9CL now, but it’s a one-off. You need someone with more experience.’

‘Lovely. I knew you’d be up for it. Just give myself or Petra a shout if there are any problems. Assembly in ten minutes. You’re going to be late if you don’t go now.’

Glaring at Mason, I gathered my laptop and bag and headed for the door, pausing to turn before I left the room. ‘I need to talk to you about Joel, Mason. What’s going on? I can’t get anything out of Sorrel. Says she knows nothing.’

‘I assumedyou’dknow more, what with Sorrel being Joel’s mate. I need coffee. I’ve assembly in ten minutes and I can’t face a new term and a new assembly – with all the usual rubbish preaching about New Year resolutions – without caffeine.’

‘Do I hear some cynicism creeping in?’

Ignoring me, Mason switched on the kettle before reaching for the instant coffee and, knowing myself dismissed, I headed unwillingly along G corridor and up the stairs to the notorious 9CL’s tutor room, where it was obvious from the raucous noise coming from behind the closed classroom door the thirteen-year-olds were already tuned up to give it all they’d got. I took a deep breath and went in.

‘Hello, miss, did you have a good Christmas?’ Lacey Mosley gave me a welcoming wave before continuing with the French plait she was constructing on Sienna Walker’s blonde head.

Well, at least I was being acknowledged rather than ignored. Maybe, after a term here, I was at last being given some credence.

‘I did, thank you. Right, OK, seats, all of you. Now. Quick registration and then it’s down to the hall for full, first-morning-back-to-school assembly.’ I moved to the computer on Celia Logan’s desk, quickly logging into SIMS, the online registration app, and started calling names…

‘Miss.’

‘Yep.’

‘Yeah.’

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