Page 36 of A Class Act

‘Can’t you let her in?’ I snapped furiously in Jayden’s direction. ‘Why’ve you let us sleep in? We have to get to school with Sorrel.’

I scrambled out of bed, shook Sorrel, who was absolutely dead to the world, and headed for the one bathroom in the cottage. I needed to sort myself before sorting my sister; Jayden was big enough and daft enough to sort himself. By the time I was dressed in the decent jeans and sweater I’d salvaged from my still unpacked suitcase, Jess had taken over, chivvying Sorrel into the shower, standing over her while she dressed before propelling her down the stairs and into the kitchen to pour the cereal and milk she’d brought round from her own kitchen and make a pot of tea in Mum’s best teapot. I craved coffee, but poured myself a large mug of the weak tea.

‘Lola’s already at school in Early Morning Club.’ Jess indicated with a nod of her head the village school we’d ourselves all attended, just two minutes down the lane. ‘I’m going to have to get off to work now.’

‘Your Covid?’

‘Miraculously cured.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Come on,’ she went on, looking at the kitchen clock, ‘get off down to the school and throw yourself on the mercy of this new head teacher. Just tell them the pair of us are both alumnae of Beddingfield Comprehensive and that…’

‘Alumnae?’ I stared across at Jess as Sorrel pulled a face of disbelief. Either my little sister had a smattering of Latin or, much more likely the case, didn’t know what the hell Jess was talking about.

‘Past pupils, yes, and, as such, we’re not prepared to stand for this behaviour.’

‘Whose behaviour?’ I was getting confused.

‘The school’s.’

‘I thought it was Sorrel’s behaviour that was in question?’

‘And tell her you’re a trained teacher yourself,’ Jess went on. ‘That should impress the woman. Mind you, from what I’ve heard in the village, Godzilla was a pussycat compared to this new head teacher.’

‘A woman? Right! More likely to be sympathetic and on our side, then?’

‘Why?’ Jess looked up. ‘You’d be better off using all your feminine charms on some man.’

‘Feminine charms?’ Sorrel smirked, looking directly at me. ‘Has she got any?’

‘Your sister, Sorrel, has a top London barrister for a boyfriend.’ Jess, despite telling me I was only heading for heartache throwing my lot in with the Bucks Barrister Brigade, was always quick to come to my defence.

‘Not any more, she hasn’t,’ I said bleakly, standing up and pulling on my jacket while putting up both hands to indicate I didn’t want to talk about it. ‘Right, come on, where’s Jayden? Let’s go and make peace with the school and then I have to go and see Mum. Sorrel, get that lipstick off, get those trainers off…’ My knee was hurting like hell and I was in no mood for comeback from a truculent fifteen-year-old. I threw her the black shoes I’d cleaned and polished the previous evening. ‘And get these on your feet. Fasten that top button on your shirt and pull your tie up properly.’

I closed my eyes briefly before heading for the door and Jayden’s car.

How on earth had it all come to this?

‘Do you have an appointment with Ms Liversedge?’ The woman on Reception’s eyes narrowed in our direction before she turned to her diary. ‘I can’t see anything here… Ah, you’re with Sorrel Allen?’ The woman sniffed and threw a look of disdain in Sorrel’s direction. Sorrel, after months of practice, caught it deftly, throwing it straight back at the woman, but with the added contempt of a confrontational teen.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ Sorrel muttered into her chin, head swivelling to the outer door and freedom. ‘Let’s go.’

‘And you are?’ The receptionist turned to Jayden.

‘Listen, sweetheart, I’m Sorrel’s dad.’ Jayden, who’d been gazing intently at blown-up photographs of the school musicians, spoke for the first time to the Rottweiler of a receptionist. I was fascinated by her hair – a sort of backcombed beehive held back in a tortoiseshell band – obviously fashioned to give her some height and standing amongst the staff and recalcitrant youth with whom she spent her days.

Jayden had passed his own formative years in care, as well as being excluded, expelled and moved on from myriad places of learning, and any time now spent in educational establishments – and in the presence of those who ran them – made him exceptionally nervous. As well as defensive. ‘Her mum’s not well – she’s in hospital – and we need all the help we can get from you people. Sending Sorrel out onto the streets without an education is the worst possible thing you can do at the moment. This is her big sister here.’ Jayden was warming to his theme, despitea line of mulish-looking adolescents and brand-new Year 7 kids – their too big blazers and creaking leather shoes and satchels giving them away – forming a queue behind him. He pointed a beringed finger at me. ‘And Robyn here is not only a trained teacher, so knowsexactlywhat she’s talking about…’ he paused as I glared in his direction ‘…but she’s given up her career in London to move back up here to take care of Sorrel while their mother’s in hospital. She won’t stand any nonsense from her, you know, love; she’ll make sure she’s here on time and does her homework…’

I glared even harder in Jayden’s direction. Hearing what I had to do back up here in Yorkshire was having me on the verge of panic. I knew I couldn’t leave it all to Jess any longer, but I didn’t want tobehere. I didn’t want this. I couldn’t do it.

I was stopped in my tracks by a pleasant voice behind me. ‘Ah, but will she ensure Sorrel no longer disrupts every single class she’s being taught in? Can she be responsible for the safety of my staff? For the other students’ personal belongings?’

We all turned in the direction of an exceptionally attractive blonde-haired woman – perhaps in her mid-thirties and obviously a go-getter to be head of a large comprehensive at her age. The woman offered an on-off smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘You don’t have an appointment this morning, Mr Allen? No, I thought not. As far as I’m concerned, an outcome about Sorrel’s future here was reached before the weekend. But I can see you appear to be in the dark about this.’

She glanced across at the wall clock above the receptionist’s head. ‘School started fifteen minutes ago, but I can give you half an hour now. Mrs Jackson…’ she turned to the immovable receptionist, who was in the process of impatiently clicking her fingers at the queue behind us, ‘…please ask Mr Walters and Mrs Saxton…’ she turned back to Jayden and me, ‘…they’re my deputies… to join us. And then postpone my 9a.m. mentoringsession with Miss Hanson, if you would. We need to get this sorted.’ She took a step backwards into her office. ‘Mr Allen, Ms…? Sorrel, do please come in.’

The three of us trooped in, two of us terrified, while Sorrel had the air of not giving a damn about any of it. I don’t think for one minute it was bravado – she genuinely wanted to be out of there as soon as she could and get on with the rest of her life. We sat in silence for thirty seconds as the head teacher had indicated we should with the simple raising of a manicured hand, until her two deputies joined us, standing, tablets to hand, at the back of her office.

‘Sorrel,’ Ms Liversedge said, now the other two members of staff were in situ and she’d moved to her place of advantage behind the huge oak desk underneath the window, ‘your father and sister here appear not to know about what happened last week.’

‘Which bit?’ Sorrel said rudely, holding the head’s gaze in surly defiance.

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