Page 39 of Hot to Go

I went formal today with a polka dot dress, tights and boots, and a trench. This level of style might not last throughout the year but today is about impressions. ‘I went to Marseille for a last-minute break.’ People mock us teachers for our extended holidays but that six weeks in summer is all about the recharge, getting ready to be able to give ourselves so fully to the intensity of the school terms. After Mallorca, I packed in as much as I could to recharge but also maybe move on from Paul, from Carlos. I tiled my new bathroom, I read five books, I learned how to paddleboard and I went to Marseille and ate steak-frites at cafés while the sun was on my face.

‘Not Nice then?’ Beth jokes.

I nudge her in the ribs as we take the walk into school. ‘We don’t talk about that anymore.’

Oh, Carlos. You will forever be my big summer crush. Yes, I feel a lot of sadness in my soul that he was not the person I thought he could be, but some of that has been replaced by happiness. I was enjoying being able to replay secret memories of him in quiet moments of my day, fuzzy sun-drenched images of him standing by a pool, completely naked. I had that.

‘Did you meet anyone in Marseille?’ she asks me.

‘Dozens of people. You know, I shagged a mime artist called Jean-Luc.’

‘Did the face paint get everywhere?’ Beth enquires. ‘Was he good with his hands?’ She mimics the actions.

We giggle together and I’m relieved that I can look back at all of that Mallorcan madness and laugh now. Beth walks me through the main reception of the school, a light-filled atrium, covered in glass and GCSE art. Primary-coloured sofas are angled in different directions and there’s also a motivational poster that I think might be the school motto. I remember a time when school mottos were Latin phrases but nowadays, they seem to be born out of people sat around a table and collating polls out of buzzwords. Creativity, Respect, Authenticity, Pride. I read that again. They know the anagram of that is CRAP, right? I try not to laugh.

‘Are you telling me there are two Miss Callaghans now?’ a lady at reception asks us.

‘Yes, Claudia. Double trouble,’ Beth replies.

‘God help us.’ She laughs. ‘Love, your security and printing pass is here. There’s a pack waiting for you in HR.’

I did come in one day in August to prepare some resources and take a tour but it’s wondrous how full the school feels with the children here. We head out to a large courtyard where children crowd around phones, laughing at TikToks and catching up after six weeks apart. I see a couple of them staring at me, clocking the new kid on the block.

‘Miss…you’re back…’ a kid says to Beth and puts a fist out. She stares at it and reluctantly gives him a fist bump back.

‘Where else would I go, Josh? I need to get you lovelies through your GCSE. Make sure you don’t mix up your alliteration with your assonance. Good summer?’

‘Is what it is, eh? Who’s your mate?’ he asks.

‘Mate? Believe it or not, another Miss Callaghan. This is my cousin, she teaches French.’

He eyes me up and down, nodding his head at the information that we are related. ‘I take French, innit. You’re the new one.’

‘Oui, enchantée, Josh.’

He looks mistrustful. ‘Are you one of them teachers who’ll just speak French to us the whole time? I won’t do well with that, you know?’

‘I also speak English.’

‘Then we’ll be très bons, innit?’ He puts a fist out for me to bump. Perhaps.

We continue to walk through the courtyard, up some stairs and towards a staffroom, a huge hive of activity that I’m not entirely used to. In my last school, we used to just hide away in our departments. Beth glances at me and can see my shock at the manic nature of it all. ‘The head started this as she thought we were all getting too cliquey.’ She heads over to an empty desk space by the window. ‘First come, first served. I’d put your coffee cup and highlighters down here and claim your space. There are lockers over there, don’t trust the mugs, and Ed in science bakes treats every Friday.’

My brain whirrs to take in all the information. By the kitchenette, a group of men in tracksuits, who I assume to be PE, peacock by the boiling kettle, regaling each other with stories of their summers. A teacher is with the guillotine cutting up chemistry worksheets for his life. An art teacher in dungarees throws a dead plant in the bin. I listen to the chat around me.Does this computer work? What’s the new rule about trainers again? Does anyone have the key to the stationery cupboard? What time is briefing?

I stop to process that last question. ‘Briefing?’ I ask Beth.

‘Oh yeah, first-day briefing so the head can calm us with positive mantras and most likely tell us that they’ve changed allthe locks. It is in,’ she pauses to look at her watch. ‘Five minutes. Come…’

I put my bag on my new desk, take off my coat and tag along beside Beth, trying to memorise routes and get a feel for people’s faces. It will be totally fine, Suzie. Breathe.

Beth squeezes my arm to reassure me. ‘And these are the cupboards where we lock the naughty kids,’ she says loudly, walking past a group of Year 8s. They all narrow their eyes at her. ‘It will be fine,’ she says turning back to me. ‘Come find me at break, lunch. I’ll introduce you to people?’

I nod quietly, walking into the hall with its tiered seating and take a seat. On a screen to the front, a big ‘Welcome Back’ PowerPoint is up there decorated with balloons and confetti. I try to be discreet and take a seat with Beth, waiting for the buzz of people to calm down. At the front of the hall is Alicia, the school’s executive headteacher. I don’t know why they’ve messed around with senior leadership titles but I always expect these executive heads to carry briefcases. Beth has told me stories about Alicia – that someone saw a sleeping bag in her office once and she’s never seen her in casual wear – but I quite like the big statement jewellery and the fact that all her deputies and associate leaders below her seem to be men. A silence descends on the room as she steps to the front in her nude heels and suit.

‘So…we are back. Hello, everyone. I won’t keep you. We have a busy week ahead of us and everything you need to know will be in the staff bulletin, but I just wanted to welcome the new members of staff. We have ten new members of staff joining us…’

I sit up in my chair, realising that I will be singled out in a minute. Movement in teaching these days is the norm, we are all moving to new schools to get promoted, to find a working ethos that fits. I never thought I’d be one of those people but here I am.One of the ten.

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