Page 89 of A Class Act

‘Jeez, this is scary.’ I sighed. ‘Got some marking to do.’ I turned to leave.

‘I’ve an M&S lasagne for two in my fridge at home. Needs eating before it’s out of date. We could think further aboutGrease?’

I laughed at that. ‘Well, I’ve never before been wooed with going-off pasta.’

‘Always a first time. So?’

‘Thank you.’ I smiled at him. ‘Yes, why not?’

‘I’ve an hour’s work or so to do before I leave. I’ll text you when I’m leaving with my address.’

‘Petra won’t be impressed,’ I said, pulling a scary face.

‘Petra won’t know,’ he replied. ‘And, if she finds out, we’re simply having an extraordinary general meeting of the St Mede’s spring production.’

And with that, he loosened his tie, removed his suit jacket and set off in the direction of his office.

Mason lived in a rented cottage, not dissimilar to Mum and Jess’s cottages, but on the other side of Beddingfield in the lea ofwhat we kids had always called Bluebell Wood, where we’d spent many a day having picnics.

‘I love this part of the village.’ I smiled as I followed him through the front door. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Ever since I separated from my wife. She’s remained in the house we bought together in the swankier part of town.’

‘Right.’

‘So, just over two years, ever since I accepted the headship at St Mede’s.’

‘Where were you before?’

‘I was deputy at a private boys’ grammar school at the other side of Midhope.’

‘Really?’ I stared at Mason’s back as he bent down to light the log fire in the sitting room. ‘I’m amazed the governors gave you the job at St Mede’s, then. Going from a posh school to a sink school without the experience needed for that new challenge.’

Mason turned and stood. ‘No one else wanted it.’ He grinned. ‘There was just me and one other up for it and, after his tyres were let down during the first rounds of interviews, he withdrew. I’m probably there by default. But,’ he added, ‘I was just so fed up with statistics and trying to get kids into Oxbridge and bolshy, arrogant parents with a lot of money who assumed that was the gateway to life. I was bored; I needed a professional challenge.’

‘And now?’

‘Now, I’m probably feeling somewhat disillusioned. I thought I could make a difference, but I’m not convinced anyone can. There’s always the spectre lurking in the shadows that St Mede’s reallyisa sink school, and sinking further into the mire with every term that passes. Right, glass of wine?’

‘On a school night?’

‘Particularly on a school night.’ He grinned. ‘But just the one.’

‘You’ve no photos around the place,’ I observed, looking round before following him into the large dining kitchen.

‘All left behind at the house,’ he said. ‘Except for this one.’ He pointed to the photo of an elderly woman on the sideboard.

‘Your gran? Up at Hudson House?’

Mason nodded. ‘She’s my father’s mother, but my father’s opted to spend the last few years of his career in the States – he’s a surgeon – and my mum’s got a new husband and family and not overly interested in Denise, my granny. So, it seemed the best solution all round to move her up near me. Dad keeps in touch with her best way he can.’

‘And your wife?’

‘What about her?’

‘You’re still on speaking terms?’

‘Just about.’ He smiled and then, obviously not wanting to talk about her, changed the subject. ‘OK, food’s in the oven.’ He clinked his glass of wine with mine. ‘I declare the first meeting of the newly formed St Mede’s spring production 2024 well and truly open.’

---