Alighting the bus with a nervous spring in her step for the first day of Ofsted’s inspection, Natalia’s phone vibrated with a message from Neill.
‘Are you here? Come fast! Meet me at reception!!’
- ‘I’ll be there in 2 mins’
Heading straight to reception through the doors that pupils normally use only if signing in late, Natalia had her first view of Tank Tits: a rosey-cheeked, merry brown-eyed woman with a cleavage line as deep as a knife in a wedding cake.
‘Becky, good morning!’ greeted Neill as he appeared, sounding coolly composed if it weren’t for the red blemishes of stress Natalia recognised on his forehead, as he added in a lower voice:
‘Natalia, here—’ He beckoned her toward the quieter staircase that normally only staff use, leading up to his office.
‘Is everything ok? Are the inspectors here yet?’
‘About ten minutes ago I found Ryan Welsh and Adam Letchworth in the back playground scrapping like dogs,’ he muttered as he hoisted her arm alongside him up the stairs. ‘I can’t send them to the sick room behind the Reception and have his bashed-in face be the first thing the inspectors see of Thornwood!’
‘Heavens, no, as you would say! Oh and by the way, nice tits on the new Receptionist—’
‘Thank you. Chose them myself,’ as they paced toward his door.
‘So what are you going to do with them?’
‘Inside my imagination, most things men love to do.’
‘I meant the boys!’
‘Oh, they learn quick too,’ as he jangled his keys. ‘Slight strabismus on the new lady, but everyone will have strabismus when their head gets crooked into her blouse to be knighted with a visitor badge. By the time they look up they’ll want to knight her with something else.’
‘Strabis-what?’
‘The eyes point in different directions.’ He swung the door open.
‘Like those two?’
There was Ryan, sitting up on Neill’s desk facing the window, kicking his ankles in the air. Adam Letchworth was slumped back on a chair, head and limbs hanging down, mouth open, motionless.
‘Fucking hell!’ exclaimed Neill. ‘What the bloody hell have you done to him since I left?’
‘Bastard said even more about my mum! He were fucking asking for it, sir!’
‘Why, what did the bastard say? Lock the door, Natalia—’
‘He said my mum’s a cunt with cancer!’
‘Oh, quite right you were to knock him out then. But now we’re in a greater pickle than I thought.’
All three of them stood peering over Adam. His face was covered in dirt and blood, and one eye was dark and swollen.
‘Well he’s still alive at least,’ Neill cupped his face. ‘Adam? Adam?’ He squished his cheeks and rocked his head to and fro. ‘Wake up, you sorry sight!’
He rattled the chair. There was no response.
‘Is he ok?’ stared Natalia.
‘Oh he’s fine. Colour’s great. Ryan, I’ll make sure you don’t get into trouble for any of this, if you help us out.’
‘But what can I do sir? Throw water over him?’ Ryan grinned.
‘I’ll have to keep him in here and this office out of bounds. Inspectors won’t need to come in here till hometime.’
‘What about when he wakes up?’ frowned Natalia.
‘Then he’ll need to be safely escorted off the grounds without the inspectors seeing.’
‘He needs a nice girl to wake up to,’ smirked Ryan.
They both turned and eyed Natalia.
‘Oh great, like I’m his biggest fan after I ate his fish in Haworth.’
‘What?’ Ryan squinted.
‘He’ll be eating yours after today,’ said Neill. ‘Natalia, you stay with him till he wakes up. I’ll need to hook out his mum’s number,’ he frowned to his desk.
‘We can do that on his phone,’ said Ryan, rummaging into Adam’s pockets.
Natalia looked sceptical. ‘But what if he starts kicking and lashing out when he wakes up to me?’
Neill shrugged. ‘You’ll have to be creative—’
‘Here it is,’ Ryan pulled Adam’s phone from his bag. ‘Aw, it’s got fingerprint screenlock—’
‘Easy,’ Neill held up Adam’s limp hand.
Ryan stood tapping through Adam’s phone whilst Neill took Natalia to one side, whispering in her ear:
‘Text me when he’s awake and able to get up. I’ll round up the inspectors and as soon I text the go-ahead, get him down the fire escape stairs straight down from my office. I’ll disable the alarm on it right now. Then get him out across the back playground where I’ll have a taxi ordered and waiting at the back gate.’
‘Look what’s this!’ exclaimed Ryan. ‘Screenshots of men… oh my god it’s gay porn!’
‘Aren’t you supposed to be looking in the phone book?’ stared Natalia.
Neill peered over Ryan’s shoulder. ‘Good Lord! Is that a gerbil?’
‘Oh come on you two,’ Natalia scoffed, watching Neill and Ryan’s faces curl and distort with morbid curiosity. ‘It’s probably some old crap boys send each other on WhatsApp. Just put his phone back before he wakes up—’
Neill’s phone suddenly rang. He snapped up the receiver.
‘Hello? Yes, thanks Becky. I’m coming down,’ as he slapped it back. ‘Big Tits says the inspectors are here—’
‘Big Tits!’ guffawed Ryan.
‘Sorry, I meant Beh-cky. Right, Natalia, now’s your chance to be Jane Eyre cleaning up Richard Mason behind a locked door whilst Rochester goes to work.’ He whipped out a first aid kit from a cupboard and flung open the clasps. ‘Worst case, stick a fag in his mouth by the open window if he wakes up livid. There’s one in the drawer and a lighter. If that doesn’t work, get his gay porn out.’
‘I don’t remember that line from Charlotte Brontë.’
‘Good luck Natalia,’ winked Ryan, as Neill motioned him out.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said determinedly. ‘I think,’ she grimaced after locking the door and removing the keys from the shuttered keyhole.
She stared at Adam. He was almost snoring, with a little judder. Better clean him up before he wakes up.
She began ripping open wipes to dab the dried blood on his nose and chin. Within a minute there was a knock at the door.
‘Neill?’
It sounded like Mrs Coleman. Adam gave a little groan. Oh god, don’t wake up now Adam.
Natalia kept silent till Coleman went away. She carried on cleaning up Adam, whose eyelids were now fluttering. How would he react when he woke and saw her? Worst of all, how on earth was she going to get downstairs and out of the school without bumping into anyone?
Flushing with hot fear, and then another flush of determination; she ought to ‘be creative…’
She boiled up the kettle to have a placating cup of tea on standby, along with fag and lighter ready from the drawer. Then, gazing at his purple lumpy face, she grinned and bent down to her bag, pulled out her concealer which she’d started carrying with her since London, and applied it across his darkening bruise and swollen red rimmed eye.
She kept adding more till it looked impressively faint. Wowsers, a disappearing act, even if it wasn’t quite his shade. If they met with anyone, he would look far less horrific - and probably completely normal from a distance - as long as she could get him to behave.
The bell went for end of the first lesson. Adam took a sharp inhale and began to moan softly.
Natalia braced herself. Nurse act, quick, even though he’s a prize twat. She leaned over and rubbed his arm.
‘It’s ok, it’s ok.’
His eyes blinked open, frowning a few times.
‘What the fuck? Where am I?’
‘Shhhh.’ She leant forward to stroke and fondle his hair.
‘Natalia? What the bloody ‘ell. Why are you being nice to me…’
‘I saw what Ryan did to you,’ she whispered. ‘Neill wanted you to rest up here, not in the horrible sick room, and take care of you till you woke up. I’ve cleaned up your nose and here, I’ve made you a cup of tea. Gone a bit cold now, but—’
‘Fuck tea! I need A&E!’
‘Shush, you’re fine. We’re getting you a taxi home, see? I’ll order it now.’
She fumbled for her phone to type ‘he’s coming round,’ whilst Adam slurped a mouthful of tea fed to him by her other hand.
Neill’s reply came:
‘Getting inspectors rounded up into meeting in Dink’s office.. will let u know’
Adam sat up straight, eyes wide open, hand to his head.
‘My head kills. That bastard Ryan!’
‘Didn’t you say some things to him? But yeah, yeah, he shouldn’t have done this—’
‘The nonce. I’ll fucking kill him—’
‘No, no. Here, take this—’ She grabbed the fag. ‘Move over to the window,’ she urged, pushing it open wide, shuffling his chair along.
He laughed in surprise when she stuck the cigarette into his lips.
‘I take it you smoke. Suck on that.’
‘Are ya serious!’ He guffawed it back out. ‘You, giving me a fag, inside the school!’
‘Shush. You’re allowed to, for medicinal purposes. Just smoke it will you, and calm down.’
He sniggered as she lit it.
‘Lean forward more. Blow it out the window.’
She cleared up the office just as a text buzzed from Neill:
‘Ordered taxi. Told him to wait. Give me 5.. trying to get inspectors together’
‘Right, finish that fag up then we’ll get you into that taxi.’
‘Ok, miss,’ he grinned.
‘But listen to me Adam. When we go down, we have to be stealthy.’
‘Be what?’
‘Discreet. Quiet. Act normal.’
Another text buzzed through:
‘Inspectors all with me in Dink’s… do it!!’
‘Ok Adam. Let’s go.’ She unlocked and opened the door a couple of cautious inches.
‘Right. It’s clear. Grab your bag and come quietly.’
‘Why do we have to be quiet?’ as he came up beside her.
‘Because.’ She stroked his arm.
He pulled it away. ‘Because what! I’m fucking hurt. What’s going on? You’re just trying to hide me from the inspectors—’
She shut the door again in a huff. ‘Because if you don’t, I’ll tell all the boys in our year that you have gay porn on your phone.’
He screwed his face. ‘You wha—’
‘Just come—’
‘I’m not a puff!’
She paused. ‘We know about the gerbil, Adam.’
‘You what! Where’s my phone? Have you got it?’
‘No, it’s in your bag. Listen,’ she reached her hands up to grab his face. ‘I know you’re not gay. You’re actually… quite cute…’
Her stomach curdled as she blinked mascaraed eyes at him.
Adam stared back. ‘You’ve got like… super long eyelashes…’
‘I know,’ she whispered, pouting her lips, watching his eyes predictably fall to them as he mouth-breathed over her. ‘Now come with me, and do as I say, ok?’
She put her fingertip to her lips as she took in this cliché of a dazzled schoolboy, even more ridiculous with his orange blotchy face, as he followed like a lanky-legged lamb in her hand, padding down the corridor toward the fire escape stairs.
Coming round the corner were two Year 8 girls, passing by the multi-coloured Adam with a stare. Natalia’s heart picked up more when she spied Miss Francis further down the corridor. She didn’t want to be seen heaving open the fire escape door, upon which was written:
‘Exit for Emergency Use Only! Stop! Alarm will sound!’
She could only pray Neill had disabled it, as she shoved her shoulder right into it, Adam chortling in surprise, as it swung open with a monster creak that sparked her nerves from head to toe.
It crashed back closed as they slipped down the stairs to the back playground.
‘Just walk normally. Don’t look round. Lucky you getting to go home, huh?’
She slid her hand back into his, which seemed to keep him moving. ‘Oh, thank fuck,’ she sighed with relief as they got through the back gate and saw the cab waiting.
‘Do I… get a kiss then for being a good boy?’ he laughed.
She kissed her hand and clapped it onto his cheek.
He rubbed it and examined his hand. ‘Ew! What’s this brown stuff?’
‘Here you go,’ pulling out a used wipe from her pocket and smearing it over his face to retrieve the makeup.
‘Yewwch! You’re not me mam! You’ve been taking the piss!’
‘Give the driver your address,’ as she kneed Adam into the back seat and slammed the door.
She fired Neill back a text as quick as she could:
‘All good and gone. Left keys in your door. Tidied up too. SIR MAKE SURE you turn fire alarm door back on!!!’
- ‘Amazing.. will do.. thanks honey!!xx’
She headed straight to Reception to sign in late.
‘Oh, hello, didn’t I see you this morning?’ smiled Becky.
‘Sorry, miss. Forgot I had a doctor appointment. You can check with Neill.’
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*
After being tasked with that Jane Bond mission, the rest of the day passed as benignly as any other. Natalia caught sight of a bald-patched, black-suited male inspector watching over their RE lesson from the rear, then a distant female inspector watching their Aerobics class. By hometime, the adrenalin of the morning had caught up on her, and she was yawning all the way home to an empty fridge as the January dark enveloped the windows.
‘Mum! There’s no food.’
‘Tin of ravioli in the cupboard,’ Mary grunted from her bedroom.
She didn’t know if Darren was in there, and didn’t want to know. Falling asleep on her bed with her earphones playing the dub-reggae Superstylin’ she’d remembered from the breakdancers on the Embankment, the song broke off a call coming in.
Neill. She bolted upright.
‘Hello?’
‘Can you spare ten minutes to pull your hand out of your knickers?’
She paused. ‘Can you spare a minute to pull the fag out of your mouth?’
‘Like you ended up with a fag in your mouth today when Adam fell in love with you?’
‘Almost. Anyway, you’re very daring answering my hello like that. I could be anywhere…’
‘You’re on your bed, Ma-loner, either having or about to have a wank.’
She scoffed. ‘So, did we get away with the heist today?’
‘That’s what I wanted to ask you. Did anyone see you smuggling out Quasimodo?’
‘Two Year 8 girls passed us. Miss Francis almost did. But I had his face made up like Adam Ant with my concealer makeup—’
He guffawed. ‘Genius Jane! God knows what he thought when he saw it, unless he is of course, a homosexual?’
‘I wiped it off as I booted him into the taxi. As for being gay, I’m pretty sure he isn’t, the way he was practically healing as I stroked his arm for over an hour…’
Neill burst into laughter again. ‘Lucky bugger! Or, not. Just his arm?’
‘Not as much as you’ve probably been stroking the inspectors’ egos today? Did all go well?’
‘I think so. The lady, goodness she’s an alpha. Kept asking me about where I come from, like it was such a surprise I’m up North, unmarried? They actually did a check on fire doors, in the afternoon, what luck! I’ve just had an hour debriefing with them in my office, thank goodness you cleared up. Darling I don’t know what I would have done without your help. I put myself into a holy pickle taking those boys up to the room but in the end we’ve kept this boys’ scrap off record.’
‘Well that’s ok, but what about Adam? He’ll want retribution but you promised Ryan he won’t get into trouble? And what if he talks about the cigarette I gave him in your office?’
‘Adam’s been cornered for snide comments on several counts so he knows he’s close to the line. Spoke to his mum, who’s gibbering over his GCSEs, she’ll keep him in line. I said he’s not in trouble but keep him off till Monday to recover.’
‘Will you punish Ryan once the inspectors are gone?’
‘With the number of days he takes off for his sick mum I could just pretend he’s on suspension.’
‘Ok. Any special mission for tomorrow? I’ll come in earlier to do some sprucing if you want?’
‘That would be perfect. Sleep well, cumrade!’
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*
On Wednesday it wasn’t till lunchtime Natalia saw an inspector. Must be the alpha Neill mentioned: a robust woman with grey hair pulled into a tight bun; black-trousered legs planted wide to the floor as she peered a piggish nose through the window of the canteen.
Natalia approached her arm.
‘Are you ok, Inspector?’
‘Oh yes, thank you! I was just observing your dinner system. Very well organised,’ she glanced down at the painted lines. ‘Were these always here?’
Natalia coughed, only just noticing them. ‘Yes, it’s always been this organised.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, turning away.
Natalia gently touched the inspector’s sleeve. ‘Would you care to try the lunches with me over a chat? I’m in Year 11, so I’ve had a full and rounded experience of this school…’
‘Oh! Yes, that would be marvellous, but I wouldn’t want to disturb your—’
‘It’s no problem,’ winked Natalia, heart lunging at her own gall, as she bustled through a cluster of Year 7s.
‘Can we get the inspector a lunch please?’
‘Oh, oh! Thank you!’
Rummaging for coins at the till, Natalia heard a familiar cough. Standing there was Neill.
‘I’ll cover that. Please sit down, Mrs Salisbury.’
‘Oh, thank you Mr Neill! This kind Year 11 pupil has just offered me lunch—’
‘That’s very nice of Natalia. I’ll join you both in a moment.’
Whilst Neill slipped away to grab a plate, Natalia’s eyes searched for the most sensible pupils in sight, and ushered Mrs Salisbury to sit down with two Year 10 boys, Rajit and Pete, who turned their heads in surprise.
‘Well, you’re all very kind. Your Head is quite new?’ Salisbury addressed them as she took her first forkful.
‘Oh yes,’ began Natalia, ‘he—’
‘He has pupils call him Neill? Without the mister?’ asked Salisbury.
‘Yeah, it’s very informal,’ laughed Pete.
‘I consider it a similar shortening as ‘sir,’’ smiled Natalia. ‘Why not take the surname?’
‘Mm! And what do you think about that compared to your last Head?’
‘It’s so different from our last headteacher Mr Neary,’ piped up Rajit, spooning his cheesecake. ‘Neill, well, he’s kinda…’
‘Certainly kinder, and a lot more empathic,’ rejoined Natalia. ‘Like you once said in Assembly, Rajit, about calling to improve the solidarity of the school. Neill takes a lot more interest in his pupils’ wellbeing than the average headteacher. Inviting the whole school to call him Neill is a way to bring him closer as a friend rather than distant authoritarian.’
‘Yeah! I suppose you’re right,’ mused Rajit.
‘Hmm, now that has to be a boon, hasn’t it, Neill?’ Salisbury called up to Neill as he sat down directly opposite Natalia with plate of curry.
‘What are you four conspiring?’ he smiled.
‘Oh, all these three were saying very positive things about your leadership.’
‘Wow,’ chuckled Neill. ‘I’m doing something right then.’
‘I’m also very interested in the uniform changes. No ties. Quite radical!’ Salisbury tittered with a mouthful of rice.
‘May I ask, Inspector, why it is considered radical?’ asked Natalia.
Neill glanced at Natalia, then at Salisbury, who blinked rapidly.
‘Oh, I would venture to say that wearing ties is a part of pedagogical tradition, and of the expectations from parents, who want to see their child following in the footsteps of all who came before,’ she smiled at Natalia.
Natalia smiled politely back. ‘What I would ask of tradition, and of parents’ expectations, is how wearing what is essentially a form of rope around one’s neck, fulfilling the expectations one has of a child?’
Neill coughed and drew up his water.
‘That’s a good point,’ Rajit added. ‘I mean, they don’t have them in primary, college, or uni, so why high school?’
‘Kids mess around with them too,’ joined in Pete. ‘My big brother would come home always trying to lasso me and strangle me—’
‘According to pupil feedback it was a majority decision,’ Neill intercepted. ‘I like to think I’ve removed a noose from these children’s daily lives, making education a more comfortable experience as it should be.’
‘Putting it like that it does give some perspective,’ Salisbury beamed. ‘You certainly have some critical thinkers here, Neill!’
‘Oh absolutely,’ as Neill’s eyes latched on Natalia’s. ‘Natalia here, is one of our top Year 11 students.’
‘She is most eloquent! What is your favourite subject, young lady?’
‘Oh, English. Literature has always been my strongest interest,’ replied Natalia.
‘It shows!’ Salisbury nodded, smiling up to Rajit and Pete who arose and stiffly muttered goodbye.
‘And which extra-curricular activities do you do, Natalia?’ continued Salisbury.
‘Er—’
‘The Book Club, don’t you Natalia?’ piped up Neill.
‘Yeah yeah, I do, that’s right,’ she blinked at him whilst Ms Salisbury was forking her tikka masala.
‘In fact Natalia is leading it today, in twenty minutes…’
Natalia aimed a kick at his shins.
His eyes went to her in mild surprise.
‘…On Jane Eyre,’ he added.
‘Oh?’ frowned Salisbury. ‘I heard it was Miss Doris leading it?’
‘No, that’s been changed,’ answered Neill, as Natalia smiled politely - and kicked at Neill again - but this time, his shins shifted, and caught her foot between them, crossing one calf over the other and entrapping her foot between them, whilst he smugly sipped his water, looking right at her.
She tried to pull back, as her face flushed and she feigned a small series of coughs on the food, quickly pulling up her water.
Salisbury all the while smiled serenely. ‘And the Book Club is about The Secret Garden today, I heard?’ she continued while Natalia’s foot was still tightly trapped between Neill’s. ‘The Year 7’s English set text.’
Neill frowned.
‘I know it,’ said Natalia now, as she pulsed her foot up and down, trying to find a gap to slip her foot out. ‘I read it when I was seven,’ she said into his face, just as she wrenched out her foot with a mild jerk of her body.
‘Wow.’ The mischief in Neill’s face morphed into admiration.
‘Well, Neill, it sounds as though you have really got your finger on the pulse of your pupils and your staff,’ Salisbury remarked, as Neill blinked down Natalia’s neck, and then their eyes met, and Natalia suddenly had the sensation of her insides falling through her groin like a sand-timer.
Salisbury arose. ‘What a delicious lunch! Well, I must be off to speak to Mr Martin quickly, then I’ll see you for the Book Club shortly, Neill!’
‘Leave your plate, Mrs Salisbury, we’ll clear that away.’
‘Why, thank you.’
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Salisbury trotted off, as Natalia and Neill lingered over their water beakers.
‘There’s something about her,’ muttered Neill. ‘I can’t put my finger on it.’
‘I should hope you won’t. Or didn’t?’
‘Jesus I hope not. She must be in her late 60s.’
‘Would be useful if you had some incriminating photos of her in her underwear.’
‘Thank goodness I don’t.’
They arose with their plates.
‘Well, you put that curry away even quicker than I did,’ he remarked.
‘I was starving. Absolutely no food in our fridge last night.’
They took their plates to the trolley, turning to survey the canteen like two spies in action.
‘Did you sort the music club for tomorrow?’ Natalia’s lips barely moving.
‘Managed to get the bongo kid lined up for tomorrow,’ he murmured back. ‘Dragging a couple of dead-eyed Year 7s to play the recorder, doesn’t matter who, as recorders sound shit whoever’s playing. Bribed them with Dairy Milk bars—’
‘Oh dear…’
‘And then with fags to keep their mouths shut about the Dairy Milk—’
She stifled another laugh.
‘Then with murder if they don’t keep quiet about the fags.’
‘Get Claire Roberts in Year 9 who plays violin,’ she breathed back. ‘Roger Something in Bailey’s form does the drums quite well.’
‘Roger Something? Are you serious?’
‘I can’t remember his surname—’
‘Nor can his victims remember much once he’s banged them ‘quite well’…’
She giggled, craning her head to check the time on Neill’s wristwatch. ‘Hang on, this Book Club’s in ten minutes…’
‘Yep. I forgot to check you’ll be ok ring-leading twelve and thirteen year olds? I saw you looked repulsed by them in the Tate.’
‘This is victory to keep them in line. But what about Miss Doris?’
‘I’m going now to deal with her.’
‘What will you do with her?’
‘Lock her in a room with Roger, of course.’
‘Oh god…’
‘No, not really. I’m going to take her out—’
She looked sceptical.
‘…To the playground. Tie her to the Archery target, gag her, blindfold her—’
Natalia stared.
‘Whilst we have a good finger through The Secret Garden.’
She scratched her head with a look of mild alarm at how much she’d wank over that tonight.
‘Roger and out,’ as he breezed off.
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*
Ten minutes to the end of hosting the Book Club to four Year 7 girls, Natalia began to wonder that there was no sign of Neill, Mrs Salisbury nor Miss Doris.
‘So let’s recap. The Secret Garden is where the protagonist Mary reconnects with nature—’
The door opened, and in walked Neill, finger-combing back a sweaty lock of hair and looking rather harried, followed by Mrs Salisbury looking primly proud as ever, and a yawning Miss Doris at the end.
Natalia blinked back to the girls. ‘And by spending time in the secret garden, Mary also connects with her feminine—’
‘Ah, yes!’ chimed in Mrs Salisbury. ‘The Secret Garden is the story of the girl who exposes the hidden garden, rather rebelliously, and shows the master of the house how to find joy from the higher natural order?’
‘Yes,’ smiled back Natalia. Neill grunted.
‘Some of the Yorkshire dialect made it hard to read,’ sighed Amy.
‘Yes,’ Natalia agreed, ‘I’m from Yorkshire and I can’t understand what the ‘ell they’re on about half the time,’ as the girls and Salisbury laughed, ‘but I found it amusing when Mary puts on a Yorkshire accent to ask Dickon if he likes her. And even more amusing for a modern audience when Dickon writes ‘I will cum bak,’ spelt phonetically in what looks like, er… let’s say, either illiterate or saucy phone text spelling.’
The room laughed, including Neill, just as the bell went for the end of lunch.
‘Thank you! Having the Year 11s help the younger girls will be a sure way to have them coming out on top, Neill!’ smiled Salisbury, as she headed off.
‘Thank you very much girls,’ Neill nodded, ushering them out, then drifting out last with Natalia:
‘Well, you bandaged up the most piss-poor Book Club I’ve ever seen in my life. Likely due to you using the words Dickon cum… did you really say that?’
‘Well the book’s by Fanny.’
‘Fanny-Dickon-cum,’ he sighed. ‘We should take her book and Burn-ett.’
‘Thought that would be up your street. Mrs Salisbury looked more thrilled than you did. Are you ok? You seem a bit stressed?’
‘I’m fine, just… exhausted. I’ve got to round up the Inspectors for the last part then we do it all over again tomorrow.’
‘Good luck.’
His sweaty fingers brushed against hers, as he caught her hand and squeezed it; leaving there a delicate clamminess on the back of her fingers, that she softly chafed to her cheek all the last lesson.
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*
‘I an’t been shopping. I’m not well today.’
Her mum’s bedroom door closed as Natalia sighed and rifled through the cupboards for something to eat. Thank god for tinned food, she supposes. Then again, she could always fill a gap by going to have a good finger through The Secret Garden.
Laying on her bed in the same position, listening to the same song, Neill’s number came up, just as it did yesterday.
He did say it was a magic bed.
‘Hello?!’
‘Come for a drive, Tremble!’
Fag-in-mouth on the loudspeaker, and oh fuck, such directness of words that hit her like 100mg of caffeine.
‘What, now?! I mean, yes! Yes…’
‘Pick you up from the place, twenty minutes.’
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Oh shit, he’s going to offer the reward, isn’t he? Sit up at Temple Newsam with his tongue down her nuisance-trembling throat for a whole minute. That will get you ready for Ryan, delivered to him passed out on a stretcher.
After a frantic hair-brush, donning a modest polo neck and leggings, and running through the dark breeze of her street, she was sliding onto his heated leather.
‘Hello, Nuisance,’ she smiled, taking in greasy-haired, fatigue-faced, underdog edition Neill… even more adorable to her.
‘I bought you a McDs tea,’ he nodded down as he began driving.
‘Oh, thank you!’
‘Just finished with the inspectors. They really grill you at the end, Jesus. I need fifteen fags with you just to unwind.’
‘And you still haven’t told me what you did to Miss Doris!’
‘What didn’t I do to her.’
‘When you two arrived at the Book Club you literally looked like you’d been shagging each other,’ she laughed, as Neill groaned. ‘So do you fancy Miss Doris? First the French dormouse, now the English, next a Dutch one with clogs on?’ she chortled.
‘No, Natalia, men do not fancy Miss Doris. Any one of us would rather gratify ourselves with a toilet roll for the rest of our lives. I simply told her she has to come to my office to fill out an important form.’
‘Oh?’
‘I made her a cup of tea then went to try and find an important form. And when I came back later with Mrs Salisbury, Doris was asleep on the table.’
‘Huh? How? Why?’
He coughed. ‘The tea was a special kind.’
‘Oh my god, Neill…’
‘Just a sleeping tablet. Nothing hardcore, just over the counter - which is where it left her - worked a charm! When she woke up she was all apologetic, and quite embarrassed! I could have stuck my knob in her mouth and she’d say oops, shorry!’
‘Um, is that what the plan is tonight?’ she frowned at the tea in her hand, as they pulled into the darkness of Temple Newsam. ‘You haven’t put a sleeping pill in here have you?’
‘No. Just Rohypnol,’ as he turned off the engine and pushed open his door. ‘Come, sit in the back with me. Fag and tea and chill time.’
She climbed into the back, shivering as he opened the back windows.
‘Harrods fur not enough for this January bite, my little lamb? Here—’
He pulled a blanket from the back, shook it out and tossed it over her. ‘Fags, fags… quick, pass them over would you.’
They nestled into their corners, lighting up just as they’d done two days ago, but this time wearily silent, staring at dark shapes of trees, as she timidly dragged and anticipated his knee creaking forward into the leather.
‘Erm, Neill, I…’
‘What.’ He was flicking his fag ash out of the window.
She daren’t mention the lesson. Is he expecting it?
He glanced to the fag in her drooping hand. ‘Do you want weed instead?’
‘No, no. The last one made me so tired in the end…’
‘Me too. I’m shattered.’
He went silent again, puffed his fag and frowned.
‘Natalia, I need to tell you something…’
‘Oh no. Which inspector did you sleep with?’ she smiled.
He shook his head. ‘Well…’
‘Oh, god, no…’
He sighed. ‘I can’t tell anyone this but you. I guess, well… with you being an awkward virgin I will look just as pitiful by the time I’m finished.’
‘Pardon?’
‘I mean, your sweet purity, your beautiful innocence, will loan me a cloak of dignity.’
‘That’s better.’
He took a deep inhale:
‘It turns out that Mrs Salisbury is the mother of Joan Severance.’
‘Literally?’ Natalia laughed, not admitting she’d looked up the actress the other night, then wanked for an hour imagining Neill shagging her like urinating up a tree.
‘The mother of stockroom stockings. The birther of the femme fatale,’ continued the ominous dark shape of Neill.
‘Well she hardly looked like it,’ she tittered.
‘Natalia, you know what I’m talking about! The History teacher I told you yesterday that I rutted in the cupboard in RUT! Miss Salisbury, now I remember. Mrs Salisbury is her mother, the inspector!’
She frowned. ‘How do you know? And well, how does she know?’
‘Only because she cornered me straight after I left you in the canteen, and asked, can I show her the stockroom so she could examine the paper supply? I stared, and then laughed and led her there, and as she closed the door I turned horrified, as she suddenly announced she’s figured out who I am. Told me how smitten her daughter was with me and how I used her for sex, and how frustrating it was for her as a mother that she couldn’t dob me in, because her daughter believed I wanted to marry her!’
‘Her daughter thought you’d marry her after you shagged her in a cupboard?’
‘Well, also because I said I would, to shut her up.’
‘Oh, my god…’
Natalia stubbed her fag and dumped it halfway, looking incredulous, as Neill continued:
‘I was there cowering, whilst Mrs Salisbury snarled, she can still have me done for misconduct, she could have Thornwood dropped to Poor, or even shut down! But you wouldn’t believe what happened next!’
‘What?!’
‘She took her wizened claw to stroke my face, saying she can’t believe how young I am to become a Head, and how attractive I am. Like mother, like daughter, she said…’
‘Are you serious?’
‘I wish I wasn’t. She said she wouldn’t mind giving me a taste of my own medicine, or rather, hers. I stared mortified, my tongue sliding around my mouth and she just gazed at it, saying how much she liked my beautiful tongue when I move it around my lips, mid-speech…’
‘I’ve noticed that, yeah. Quite… sexy.’
‘Thank you. From you, yes. From her, dear God no. But, my dear Natalia, the awful thing is where my beautiful tongue ended up!’
She stared.
‘Cornering me made her so horny, she said, that she’ll make sure the school gets a Good, if I make her come good.’
‘What, Neill?’
‘Neill is exactly what Neill had to do…’
‘Shit…’
‘No, not shit. Sit. Slurp—’
‘Wh—’
‘Yes. Yes!’ he glared. ‘Whilst Miss Doris was conked out over my desk, whilst you were in the Book Club yapping on about the old neglected The Secret Garden, the inspector was planting hers right over my face in the stockroom! I couldn’t even scream for help. I had to pray she wouldn’t scream either!’
Natalia gaped. ‘And did you make her…?’
‘Of course I did. And I had to be quick too. God, she quivered like a shipwreck right on my nose.’
‘Oh, my god! Talk about comeback! Talk about… comeuppance! You couldn’t make this up!’ Natalia shrieked with laughter. ‘…Or, are you?’ she frowned.
‘Natalia, this is not easy for me to talk about! I have been violated!’ he ranted, staring earnestly in the dark. ‘This is how much I put my neck on the line, for this school … oh, my word, literally! I went down on an elderly woman. Natalia I never go down on women!’
‘Really?’
‘It’s more a wifey thing… intimate, takes time, you know. Getting a woman to come that way usually takes a whole 30 minutes of slurping round. She must have been gagging for it. Her husband must never go down on her. No wonder, I feel like I have had my mouth on a drain.’
‘How do you know that she will definitely give the school a Good?’
‘Oh, she will. She was grinning like a Cheshire Cat by the end and that was just the lower half.’
‘Seriously.’ Natalia shook her head. ‘Life was really very dull before you turned up.’
‘Dull would have been preferable for this last two days,’ Neill sighed.
‘Well, I think I will swerve my lesson after where your mouth’s been.’
‘I don’t blame you.’ He glanced down to the seat. ‘Wasting a fag too?’
‘That’s what I would have done if Adam didn’t behave.’
They laughed.
‘I guess we’ve both had our trials on this then,’ she sighed, ‘having to sidle up to disgusting specimens.’
‘Come, come, sidle up to this one,’ he held out his arm. ‘Lay thy head in Furies’ lap. Bring your tea and your blanket.’
She slid over, tingling as she nestled her knees into his thighs of her own volition, and slowly wrapped her arms around his torso, face against his warm shirt; suddenly feeling delightedly at ease, since he pronounced himself the proxy father and she the unready, awkward virgin, that she was allowed to be, she was ok to be… confirmed by his hand going softly round her shoulder now, almost absent-mindedly, as he puffed on his cigarette and gazed over at the manor house.
‘Grade I listed building. Goes back to the eleventh century. Almost as old as what sat on me earlier.’
Natalia shivered, as he pulled the corner of her blanket up around her shoulder, chafing his lips into her hair, whispering into her goosepimpling scalp:
‘This is better. Healing, almost. I do quite like just having you in my lap again like the pretend GF. No social fanfare, no noisy London. You want to share my fag?’
‘But I’ll make it soggy?’
‘Nothing like what I had earlier.’
She laughed as her hand came up for it.
‘So how’s it at home darling? You said there was no food the other night?’
‘Today I found a tin of tuna,’ she puffed.
‘Good Lord,’ as he rummaged for his phone from his pocket beneath. ‘You want me to get you a takeaway?’
‘Oh, no! Well…’
‘Seriously. I can just order you it on my phone,’ as he brandished his bright screen. ‘Tap your address in there so I can search. What do you like, Chinese, Indian?’
‘Oh, fish and chips…’
‘One large cod. Regular chips. Scraps? And I’m not talking Ryan and Adam’s.’
‘God you’re antiquated. You can’t order scraps on an app.’
‘Type it in the requests.’
‘No way! I want some dignity.’
‘Girl, you live in Gipton. You are scrap. Right, fish and chips for 7.30. Done.’
He tossed the phone back over the seat. ‘So did you ask your mum about your dad’s Russian name? What you mentioned in London?’
‘Yeah, I did,’ as she passed back his fag and laid her head back on his chest. ‘It was weird because she didn’t seem to know. Then she said something like he’s not around anymore and I was left wondering whether he is… dead.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry darling,’ as he squeezed her shoulder. ‘How very strange.’
After a few moments of silence, his hand came round inquisitively to pull up her face, and upon her resistance, she felt a soft wriggle of his finger on her cheek, right on the hot tear that sat there, and wiped it. Her breath of surprise flowed over his hand.
‘Parents’ Evening soon, I’ll make her talk,’ as he stubbed out his cigarette with the other hand. ‘Can you get her to come?’
‘No, but clearly you will,’ she croaked a laugh.
Oncoming lights glared into the car. Neill’s body shifted.
‘Slip down, slip down a little bit darling, there’s a car passing with great big blaring headlights, bloody hell, turn down your mainbeam, mate… Ok, gone.’
Slunk downwards, her hip met with his crotch in a new way, and there against it she felt something - that wasn’t his legs, and wasn’t his arms - another limb entirely - and she knew too well what it must be, making her almost want to laugh, which she stifled hurriedly. It pulsed again, like a tiny part of a bigger tentacle, what may as well be layers and layers of trouser away, the tail of a monster flicking its end slightly to alert its presence.
Does he know she can feel it? She stayed still, not knowing whether to move away or wait till he moved.
He sighed, a wistful higher note sigh of Neill, as his chest rose and fell under her cheek, as though he was separate from the twitch; a raft she is laying on that is also carrying a wayward worm, stirring in its lair… and then his phone rang, and his whole body shifted its schoolgirl inhabitant loose.
They squinted at a bright flashing ‘Joan.’
‘Well at least you changed her name from the initials.’
‘What? Oh. I’d better get off in a bit. Promised I’d drop by for a glass of wine. She’ll want to know how everything went, or rather, wax on about how she got an Outstanding when I’ll be lucky to get a Good after being forced to eat sushi off the barber’s floor.’
‘Sushi off the….? Oh.’
Neill opened the door and went round to the front whilst Natalia climbed over the middle well.
‘So I did think,’ as he started up the engine, ‘Ryan wasn’t as thick as two planks as I thought. Maybe just one.’
‘Gosh, Mr Neill’s approval?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far. Are you going to see him again sometime?’
‘I might do. Actually, can I have some fags off you?’
‘Take some,’ he motioned to the box. ‘But don’t share one with him. He doesn’t deserve your soggy end.’
‘Ah… ha.’
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They pulled up in Natalia’s road.
‘Well, goodnight darling. Enjoy your takeaway.’
She leaned down to the car floor. ‘Wait, you can’t leave this here—’
‘What’s that?’
‘Just a hairband,’ she smiled. ‘Unless Joan wears them?’
He frowned.
‘It’s mine, silly,’ as she pocketed it.
‘Oh right. I see. She has her hair down all the time, yes. Best get rid.’
‘Goodnight.’
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*
She ran upstairs with her paper-wrapped fish, conjured up for her by cunt-crucified Jesus, who today had suck-rificed his dignity for the Crown of Thornwood.
How could a man so crass be so adorably sweet, so conscious of that sadness that twitched her leaking eye duct in the dark whilst that most famous part of him twitched silently for her? For she knew now, thanks to those blaring car headlights, that it twitched for her, oh god he twitched for her… she, the sad virgin Ma-loner had the power to make that Secret Harden, in the most wicked man of all, who was even ousted by an Ofsted alpha, chased and choked by his own chequered history. Whilst she, the lost little lamb fashioned in furs by him - whose ever-growing confidence was shone back at her in awed Adam’s eye - might be part of his future?
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