Chapter One

How did I get here? The day of my eighth birthday my father bluntly told me that I’d never be happy and would never amount to anything in life. The sound of his mocking laughter echoing through the house that day will never be forgotten. It was at that moment in time whilst looking around my parent’s three bedroom semi-detatched council house just outside of London, with its unattractive flowery three piece suite and old, musty red carpet that my unfaltering inner belief began. I remember looking up at him with his unloving eyes and harsh frame towering over me and thinking “You’re wrong; and I’ll prove it!!”

It’s 06.30 on a cold, autumn Monday morning and the radio alarm is on its second stint of snooze.
“I fucking hate Mondays” he grumbles in his croaky, early morning voice.
“Nowhere nearly as much as I do” I mutter as I hit the alarm button, pull back the quilt and head for the shower.
Twenty minutes later, dressed and having been careful to keep the noise down, I tiptoe down the stairs. I just about avoid standing on the cat as I hear him groan and turn over in my bed, fighting the sunlight’s determined attempt at waking him.

Sitting in the traffic on my way to work I contemplate life; how it is and how it should be. Fine rain covers my windscreen like a dusting of icing sugar distorting my view of the world around me. How is it that life can seem to be perfect on the surface yet if you scrape just below the skin it can be hollow and unfulfilling? He lives in my house; shares all of my friends; occupies a firm position in my bed and still I feel alone. As the wipers remove the moisture the world is revealed as one with opportunities, a world of freedom where no one and nothing should ever hold you back. Cars move in several directions as they leave the roundabout, zigzagging in and out, all shapes and sizes and I am left wondering whether my final destination in life has already been decided. I don’t like how that feels.

As I get to work I notice how yet again I am one of the first to arrive. I like to work in the mornings before the day really gets going and I run out of time to think. I walk through empty corridors looking at rooms occupied by staff and wonder what their lives are like. Do they retreat to the solace of their room and hide from the world or is it more of a prison cell that they cannot wait to escape. I pass P11 and I gaze through the safety protected glass at the chair which is positioned at the front of the class. Mr Evans, Phil, to his colleagues, occupies this room. Tall, athletic and handsome, Phil is the teacher all the young girls fancy, the man that all the female staff wish they were married to and a role model for all other males who want to succeed in life. He is lush to the nth degree and he makes even the likes of me go weak at the knees. I am stood enjoying my less than innocent daydreaming when I hear a jangling of keys behind me.
“Anything I can do for you?” says Phil in his deep, sexy voice as he approaches my right shoulder causing me to stand bolt upright and start adjusting my suit jacket
“erm no that’s fine thanks” I say rather quietly whilst shuffling from one foot to the other trying to think of something witty to respond with. “I er was just wondering whether you’ve had a chance to look at the behaviour audit I emailed you yesterday?” He looks at me with disdain,”Can’t say that I have” he replies. The smile that once owned his beautiful face has now disappeared and a cloud of darkness has begun to engulf the pair of us in the once carefree corridor. Well done Carrie. One sure fire way to put a bloke off is to pull rank!! Without saying a word he unlocks his door, flicks on his lights and opens his mailbox.

I feel bloody ridiculous as I walk down the remainder of the corridor to my office. I don’t care what he thinks about the behaviour audit and I still can’t quite believe that I asked! I can feel his strong, hazelnut eyes boring into the back of my head, heating the atmosphere as I try to open my door as quickly as possible. I’d turn round and apologise but I can’t because I’m too busy trying to work out how to put one foot in front of the other!

Email check…please none from Phil…please none from Phil…Good, none from Phil! Should I email him and apologise? Say something witty about getting out of bed the wrong side? Or should I just leave it? Perhaps that’d be for the best? Shit. Why am I so fucking awful at all this? All I want to do is get to know him better and instead all I do is push him away.

Hmm…email from Donna, God she’s in early!

From Donna M
To Carrie A
Re: The Weekend
Hey Girlie, sorry I didn’t call yesterday. Big progress on the Josh front…he took me to that new place – Shelby’s on Cedar Street – very nice indeed (bloody expensive though!!) Naturally he paid – no change there! How lucky am I??
Dx

From Carrie A
To Donna M
Re The Weekend
He’s married Donna!!!! He took you to the new place because he can’t risk being seen anywhere else with you. It’s not romantic girl – it’s sneaky! I love you but you’re mad!
CA

Donna is one of these helpless romantics – she believes them when they say she is the love of their life and that they’re trapped in loveless marriages.

From Donna M
To Carrie A
Re The Weekend
He’s getting a divorce (didn’t I tell you that already??) His wife just so doesn’t understand him – oh and he’s explained everything about the other week – that holiday to Barbados was not his idea!!
By the way…seen Phil lately???
Dx

From Carrie A
To Donna M
Re Phil
He’s not married – is he?????

Cow! News travels quick in this bloody place. Must email Phil before the day is out otherwise he may hate me forever.
New message:
From Nessa
To Carrie A
Re:
Stop answering your personal bloody chit chat emails and get over here pronto!!

God that woman’s good! I check my watch – five minutes late. Must gather papers oh and make a mental note to self that I need to survey my office for hidden cameras.

08.15 I hurriedly knock the door and enter the office of Nessa Hamilton, Inclusion Manager of the old, battered Secondary school that we inhabit.
“I’m so sorry – got held up by a student,” I say as she slowly raises her head from the papers she is scanning; her natural brunette curls framing her pretty face which is giving me a knowing look.
“No problem, sit” she gestures to a chair opposite her.
When you get the chance to look around you notice that her office is disappointing. The walls are chipped and the brown carpet tiles are hard and consist of a sticky residue that you kind of don’t want to know how it got there. There is a depressing amount of natural light in the room which peers through a tiny skylight on the ceiling, creating one solitary column, the only proof that life outside of this building actually exists. I fiddle about in the folder I have brought with me, knowing full well that I have nothing to show her but acutely aware that she is about to give me a thousand things to do. As I look up I see her smirking at me
“Relax” she says, and I breathe a sigh of relief forcing a half smile, “I’m not going to ask you to do anything too strenuous today” she laughs “…except for one thing.”
Great
“…because Ofsted decided not to come in last week, we’re having a visit from the LEA to erm, how did they put it…have a look around”
Bloody marvellous I think to myself as she puts a piece of paper in my hand. Nothing strenuous? Perhaps there won’t be lots of paperwork to do but I’m sure as hell going to have to work hard to cement a smile to my face all day!
“Who is it?” I ask, feigning interest “…and what will they want to see?”
“well usually they’d want to see me to discuss what we’re doing but this time, they’ve requested to be introduced to our new LSU manager instead” she was smirking again “Obviously I wasn’t going to disappoint them” she went on to say “they’ll want to see examples of everything you do, watch a lesson or two and end up in a meeting in L3 where you explain our vision for the future.”
“When will they be here?” My brain suddenly feels like it’s about to explode
“09.00”
“Which gives me..?”
“Exactly 27 minutes and 15 seconds in which to prepare to dazzle them!”
I glare at the clock, less than impressed now. “Name??”
“Ooh…good question, now let me see…” she shuffles a lot of papers about on her desk “can’t find it…erm, it was a bloke…Andy something I think…”
“Email me it when you know” I say as I begin to move.
“You’ll be great” she shouts through the door but I’m already half way down the corridor, having palpitations at the fact that I have been in post for three weeks and now have to convince some bod in a posh suit that I know what the fuck I’m doing!

New message
From Nessa
To Carrie A
Re:
APOLOGISE TO PHIL!