Back to school

Pre-warned that the tyrant she was about to meet bore close
resemblance to both Genghis Khan and Hitler,Angela fidgetted
apprehensively in her seat. Already she could feel the beads of nervous
perspiration clinging to her forhead. Judging by the rage exploding
from the other side of the door, the description she had been given was
prolifically accurate.

The victim could only whimper shamefully as the voice thundered ever
louder, until at last the door was flung open and a sheepish looking
boy, with a tear streaked face emerged. Catching site of the girl
fumbling to hide the ladder in her stockings, he straightened abruptly,
adopting an air of carelessness before shoving his hands into his
pockets and sauntering casually into the corridor. It was almost as an
after thought that he turned to her.

"Sir says you can go in now" he sniffed, nodding towards the
office.

Angela proffered a weak smile before rising to meet her fate.

"Ah, Miss Hamilton, welcome to St.Johns", the balding man lunged
towards her, clasping her hand firmly, almost wrenching it from it's
socket with an over enthusiastic shake.

"I'm Patrick Clancy, head of this happy establishment , Do take a seat
my dear, coffee? I see you found us alright, did you have far to come?
It's great to see you." The extrovert little man sprang into action,
kettle and decaffe at the ready, never once allowing the astounded
woman to respond.

"This is, as you are aware, a church school," he rambled, excitedly
spooning the coffee into two bone china mugs, "So unfortunately we will
have to keep things short and sweet as, it seems, I am forced to take
assembly this morning in the absence of Father Andrew who is suffering
an affliction of the right foot."

Momentarily an expression of reflection glazed over his eyes. "Nasty
business," he continued, shaking his head sypathetically. "The man
should never have volunteered his services during the ballet
demonstration. Still, can't be helped, now where were we, oh yes, you
will be taking the reception class for the time being, frightful
children but we hope to mould them into upstanding citizens by the time
they leave our happy family. Do you like the under fives?"

"Well I..."

"Good, good," again the head did not wait for an answer as he shoved a
steaming drink into her trembling fingers. "First lesson my dear, don't
stand around talking in the staff room, Lord knows what the little
cherubs will get up to whilst your back is turned."

Screams of hysterical laughter broke the conversation as two more staff
members swept into the office, delighting in their account of an
incident that had occured in the car park the previous evening.

"Of course George instigated the whole thing, Mrs Patterson would never
have climbed the bloody tree if the little sod hadn't pretended to be
stuck. He came down like a shot when I arrived wielding my hockey
stick."

The muscular man clapped his hands in amusement before removing a pair
of weathered trainers and tossing them beneath a chair.

"Year six certainly got a full education, her underwear left nothing to
the imagination did it? I'd never have imagined it possible to fit so
much flesh into something so small if I hadn't seen it with my own
eyes" The stocky woman he was accompanied gave a filthy chuckle, before
catching Angela's bemused gaze.

"Oh hello dear, you must be our new supply, how do you find us so
far?"

"It's very nice." Angela could have kicked herself, knowing her
response appeared meagre.

"Hmm, is this your first position?" The athletic man smirked knowingly,
his eyes lingering too long for comfort upon the hole in Angela's
stockings which had now taken on the appearance of a rope bridge.

"Aw, take no notice of sporty spice my dear" the woman smiled, "The
only position he's ever held was centre forward in last terms staff
against the parents match, he knows nothing of the realities of
teaching".

She offered a reassuring wink before suggesting that Angela might like
to borrow a pair of her spare nylons before being introduced to her
class.