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‘Get in! Ra ha, he’s scored!’
Padding down in her school tights to examine the sparse contents of the fridge, an unfamiliar voice from the living room made her stop for a moment. New men everywhere, she mused. Not daring to volunteer a glance inside in case they were drunk already, her mum's call came as she peeled off a yoghurt lid:
'You ‘ad a good day, love?’
Sounds sober enough, as she called back a yes and slipped upstairs. So often she’d wished for a sibling to be able to gossip about mum’s boyfriends to, but for now she was happy to have only her diary to confide in. Or rather, rejoice with, as her waggling pen recalled her words to Neary earlier. …School as a prison, is that how she really feels? She wondered what the visitor, Neill, thought when he heard her response. If she ever saw him again, she could ask. But what could be done about it? She wanted to ask why he cared, when no-one else did?
She lay back on her bed, and closed her eyes on the thought that likely, she would never see him again, and had missed the chance to continue even a nervous dialogue with someone who showed a passing interest. As she swallowed, she frowned at the yoghurt tang catching in her throat. Another coup: perhaps a chance to have a day off.
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*
The next day, Tuesday, her nose was blocked and her throat like razors. Her mother surprised her by bringing up hot lemon. By Wednesday she was running with mucus, making her own hot lemon whilst mum grumbled in the living room, and going back to her bed to read, snivel and enjoy a mind reset of school thoughts. By Thursday, her fever had gone and her nose had dried up, and all except for a cough, she was almost grateful to feel the fresh air on her face for the last two schooldays of the week.
Only two days left of the green card, she rejoiced inside, as she nipped up to Neary’s office on the chime of the 8.45 bell. She’ll explain she’d been off with illness, in case the message hadn’t been passed on and he wondered where she’d been with the report card.
As she knocked, an unusually loud and animated ‘EN-ter!’ came from within.
She pushed the door and her eyes fell on the looming figure alone in the room.
It was none other than that man from the other day: Neill, standing by the window as he’d been last time, but this time in a royal blue suit and brown tie, trying to light a cigarette by the open window; one thick thigh cocked up on the sill to point it to the open air.
After clicking the lighter he turned and said in a loud, flat voice:
‘Oh, it’s the report card girl.’
He double glanced and added:
‘Whom I’ve since realised is also the girl who wandered out in front of my car the other day.’
Natalia stared in surprise as she dropped hold of the door, where she only just noticed, a paper pinned over the original plaque ‘Mr Neary, Headteacher’ on which was hand-scrawled:
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‘MR NEILL… HeadMASTER!’
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‘Wh-what’s going on?’
The door fell closed, his cigarette was finally lit, his leg back on the floor and he took his first drag, remarking:
‘For an intelligent girl - excluding knowledge of the highway code, of course - I can’t quite believe you haven’t figured that one out.’
Frowning, all she felt for a second was a creeping pleased feeling to see him again.
‘Um. Where’s Mr Neary?’
‘Gone, dear, gone. I’m the new Head. See the sign on the door?’ His tone was a hair away from being patronising, slightly smiling that she still didn’t get it.
‘Yee-eah,’ she said. ‘The new Head?’
‘Correct.’
‘Right. Er, are you allowed to smoke in here?’
‘Definitely not,’ he inhaled, ‘but technically I’m not in the room,’ nodding at his arm which was now propped out over the windowpane.
A chuckle caught in her throat, slowly chewing over the realisation that the meeting had been a handover to a new Head, and now, the posh well-dressed man had become, like magic, the Head himself. It was not so much the logic that evaded her, but the sudden excitement in her life where nothing interesting ever happened, and now Neill’s face that had looked upon her in a princely, kindly fashion, was sitting large as life like the Cheshire Cat - smoking a cigarette like the Caterpillar - as if the drab, dismal office had suddenly transformed into Wonderland itself.
‘Lost for words?’ he frowned down at his fag, then at her. ‘Brought me that sagging green card, have you?’
‘Oh y-yeah, yes I have,’ she fumbled for it, ’I’ve been off for two days, so I missed Neary leaving, so you just have to sign that I’ve been off ill. And, erm, still am, a bit.’
She coughed into her fist. He remained by the window, almost grimacing.
‘Oh—’ as she, still in a daze, realised she would have to walk beyond the accepted parameter of where one normally stood. Pacing over the thin grey carpet, and then having to lean right toward him, she shuddered from the smoky breeze and held out her card. He still didn’t seem to want to receive it, so she gingerly pointed it towards the hairy hand resting on his trouser leg, as it finally came up for it.
He puffed his fag once, then looked down.
‘Natalia Molova. Year 11. So you’re what, 15?’
She nodded.
‘Hmm…’ He shifted the card into the same hand as his cigarette, then rummaged with his other hand into his pocket. Taking out his lighter and tossing his cigarette into his grasped lips, he struck the lighter against the card, and the flame caught it.
Natalia gasped. ‘Oh my god! Sir?!’
She took a step back as the flame licked up the card and shot up till it engulfed it in its entirety. Neill exclaimed and dropped it like a hot potato into a metal bin by his foot.
‘Jesus! That went up quick!’
‘What the— ’ Natalia stared at the bin and then back at Neill. ‘Oh my god, Mr, erm, Mr Neill? I don’t know what to say…’
It was a moment so unexpected, so boldly rebellious, she could barely believe what she had seen.
‘That’s what I think of that idea,’ he murmured, as the tiny inferno fizzled out.
He puffed again on his cigarette and glanced to Natalia, eyebrows raised, looking as if he were a little boy who revelled in something he precisely knew was wrong.
‘Mr Neary won’t mind now he’s gone, will he?’
Natalia's hand flew to her mouth to cover both her shock and the snort she almost just made. ‘My god, I can’t believe what you just did, sir? Does that mean the end of my report card?’
‘Intelligence clearly restored.’
Stubbing out his fag, still half-propped on the window ledge, he swooped his stocky body down into standing position with a dull thud onto the carpet.
‘Why not help me figure out what to do instead of them.’ Both his hands flicked the air to usher her backwards toward his desk. ‘I’d like you to finish answering the question I gave you the other day.’
Natalia’s mouth dropped in both readiness and surprise.
‘Sir I’m already late, I’ve missed form—’
He glanced up at the clock, then at his watch. ‘Still two minutes left, I’m sure you can run fast. Who do you have?’
‘Mrs Williams.’
‘I’ll ring down to her now and explain.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ as she headed to the door.
‘Can you come back at break? Or, I guess you’ll be busy with friends.’
‘I have none,’ she turned and shrugged as she pressed down the handle.
He stared at her for a moment. Then he blinked twice. ‘Alright, I’ll see you then.’
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Walking to PE, Laura came to her side.
‘Tell me the joke then.’
‘Huh? Oh, there isn’t one. Well I hope it’s not one.’
‘Weirdo. Always such a weirdo,’ Laura sighed and walked on.
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