Diary of an Assistant Mistress

by Teri Power

  So I escaped unscathed from the Snook pit, but when she talks to Oz he will look his usual self (guilty as Hell) and that will be that.

  Tuesday 4th October

  Had a word with Oz. Like me, he did not initially recall the incident. Then he didn't believe me and assumed I was winding him up. Winding up Oz is an old departmental custom. It seems that a certain Snooks of my acquaintance has not summoned Oz to The Presence. I would complain but I suppose this would hardly fit in with my original position that I didn't know what she was talking about.

  Wednesday 5th October

  There is a girl in one of George's classes called Jenny Taylor. Some of the boys find this highly amusing because if your hearing is fairly defective and your intellect minimal, it sounds a bit like "genitalia." I mentioned this to George. Unfortunately his response was to fall about laughing.

  Thursday 6th October

  I picked up the telephone at home - dead silence. However, it didn't sound like a dead line - though it is hard to explain exactly how I knew. It was a "breather." I suggested that he try 0898 696969 for a better response because I certainly wasn't going to describe my underwear to him.

  After I had put the phone down, I started worrying. We are in the phone book under James Power, so why pick did he on my number unless he knows me?

  I was already feeling a little jittery when I noticed that James had one of his off-colour videos in his briefcase and I had to explain that I really wasn't in the mood and he said that the video had to go back tomorrow. He also quoted a Guardian article which claimed that women pretended not to like porno videos but objective measurements of their state of arousal suggested otherwise.

  We then got into a discussion about vaginal lubrication which sounds rather like something out of Ford Sierra handbook. The final result was that the video stayed in the briefcase.

  Friday 7th October

  Another phonecall from our friend with the chest trouble. This time I had a PE whistle handy so I don't think he'll be back. The telephonist suggested this course of action when I asked about Telecom intercepting my calls and was told they would do it ... for œ37.50 plus VAT - she said a blast on a whistle was usually just as effective. She also pointed out that my silent caller was probably silent because I might recognise his voice. Perhaps I should wear my whistle on Monday and look pointedly at the main suspects - Simon and Gavin in 9zq2, James in 8Gbh and that precocious little Gabriel in 7wq2n.

  Torquemada? George? Snooks? I can't spend the whole day looking pointedly at people and brandishing a whistle.

  James was agreeably surprised that I wasn't put out by the call tonight. On the contrary I was buoyed up by the victory. I didn't mind blowing his whistle for him, then and there on the sofa.

  Saturday 8th October

  Shopping at the Co-op. Ideologically pure but where the hell is the bleach?

  James came to bed in an obviously excited state and was most put out when I told him it was the wrong time of the month. He first accused me of adopting a triumphalist tone and then said that it explained why I was so receptive (receptive!) last night: I knew I had a week off coming.

  I explained to him that this attitude - that good girls don't like sex and the best a chap can expect is that his wife be "receptive" - was so out of date that even my mother thought it was old-fashioned. I do enjoy sex, especially since the advent of Victor.

  By now he had an erection the size of the Eiffel Tower so I suggested that he try a bit of DIY, he said he'd forgotten how to and asked if I could show him.

  Sunday 9th October

  Lunchtime at the Red Lion. Met George and Edie, discussed the prospects for the Labour Party - it didn't take long. Ever since James and I were expelled for not paying the Poll Tax (we did in the end - but the government backed down before we did), George has developed a soft spot for reformists. Presumably on the grounds that anyone who can expel us can't be all bad!

  He started to suggest that we both go back to his house but I took Edie aside in the Ladies for a quiet chat and he soon went off the plan.

  Monday 10th October

  Ominous note in my pigeon hole: ƒb Mrs Crooke (mother of Damian, 7G) would like to arrange a private interview with you about the National Curriculum.

  When parents start brandishing the National Cur it's a penny to a pound that the welfare of their offspring is the last thing on their minds.

  True to form, Mrs Crooke gave me a substantial lecture on how to teach English over the telephone. At least I avoided the personal interview but the phone call took up the best part of my free period so I had to catch up on the marking in the evening and miss Judo. I will be giving the little Crooke some extra grammar work but this really comes close to visiting the sins of the mother on the son doesn't it?

  Tuesday 11th October

  Went with Peter, the woodwork teacher who is now head of Technology, to see a presentation about CD ROM. It has words, it has pictures, it sings; it dances; it does the washing-up. It costs more than my car. I have seen the future and we can't afford it.

  It was all just a little above Peter's head but it is against his principles to ask a woman questions.

  Wednesday 12th October

  Oz looked worried this morning but this is his habitual expression. It seems that Mrs Crooke had caught him in my absence yesterday and given him a substantial ear-bashing. He waffled weakly in the usual manner: he has been so long on the fence that the iron has entered into his soul. In the end he left her with the remark that "Uruk High is quite a good school." I can't see that going down too well if it is ever transmitted to the Snooksery.

  Thursday 13th October

  It was. Oz and I were summoned severally to the Snook pit to account for our response to the Crooke. Our head supports us like the rope supports a hanged man.

  Friday 14th October

  Came in early and pulled the Crooke file from the year office. Mrs C (it seems there is no Mr C) has a record of continual complaints about the National Curriculum by which she means that teachers are not teaching enough grammar. The plain fact is that teachers are not teaching enough anything: they are too busy ticking boxes and filling in forms.

  Thank heavens for the holidays.

  Saturday 15th October

  Blocked drains in the sunset. I was happy enough to leave this particular chore to James. I explained that it was an exclusive male prerogative to unblock drains. He gave me his version of what he considered exclusive male prerogatives: an interesting list particularly as he did it while unblocking the drain. Of course he then wanted to go through about five of them later: I drew the line at four.

  Sunday 16th October

  Year 7 marking and many interesting National Cur forms to fill in: one for each of 30 pupils. What joy!

  Monday 17th October

  Judo. Avery formal system of eduction: I wonder how Gavin would take to bowing to me. I wonder how he would take to finding me bowing to him.

  Drains blocked again. James duly disappeared head first under the sink. I eventually grew bored with watching him working so I kicked off one of my shoes and rested my stockinged foot lightly on his crotch.

  His reaction was immediate and predictable - is that thing made of indiarubber?

  I sat on the stool and made various hilarious attempts to unzip his fly without bending down. Eventually I decided that I would have to lean against the sink and push the zipper over the rather substantial bulge.

  After that it was fairly straightforward to use both feet to clasp his penis and make him come. So saucy Susan's videos did serve a purpose after all.

  I don't think I would have thought of this particular ritual humiliation on my own.

  It didn't do the drains any good, especially when it made James bash his head into the pipe.

  Tuesday 18th October

  Eighth year projects. I gave them a free choice of project. Never again. I have read more about the habits of horses and the different types of car than anyone could possibly need to
know.

  Wednesday 19th October

  A visit to the pub as a reward to myself for completing the eighth year project marking. Of course they had to have a Karaoke machine. Of course James had to volunteer, but did he have to get Madonna and did he have to do all of the actions?

  Thursday 20th October

  I noticed - or rather James pointed it out to me - that a high court judge directed a jury to find a man not guilty on an indecent assault charge because the man's wife had refused to have sex with him because she was having a period. I asked him precisely what point he was trying to make but he just smiled like a Cheshire cat and made some banal remark about the age of the judiciary.

  Friday 21st October

  Did the week's shopping and cleaned everything which can be cleaned. Then James came home with one of those videos and various questions about whether the pipes need looking at again. More sex in the kitchen - and on my clean floor too!

  Saturday 22nd October

  Emma arrived on my doorstep at 9 this morning saying amid floods of tears that she had been raped by Daniel (her mother's lover). I said the first thing which came into my head; which was to ask her whether she had had a bath: because of course a bath destroys important forensic evidence.

  Like too many rape victims it had been the first thing she did: to wash away the filth. So the first thing I did was to make her feel stupid and to make her suspect that I didn't believe her. Good start.

  We talked all morning about everything. Apparently Daniel returned during August and talked his way back into Mrs Rosch's bed without any great difficulty. Within days he was "up to his old tricks" with Emma. She told a convincing story of continual tricks she had used to put him off, to make sure they were never alone together.

  On Friday - and it did flash though my mind that it was more or less at the time that James and I were up to our kitchen antics - the pair of them had come in very drunk. Her mother was well out of it before he started to work on Emma and in any case she was too scared to yell out. As far as she knew they were both still asleep.

  She had gone to one or two of her friends but none of them would have anything to do with her (there was a long story attached to that as well - involving two twelfth year pupils). So as a last resort she had come to me.

  She wouldn't go to the cops (I don't blame her in the least) and she wouldn't even go to the rape crisis centre with me. In the end I got her to agree to my ringing her mother.

  Naturally I got Daniel. I had a job getting past him to Mrs Rosch but I did it in the end. Mrs Rosch was heavily hung-over and it took a lot of explanation to get her to come round ƒb on her own.

  Then when she arrived, Emma went silent on me. It took ages to coax the story out of her but I watched Mrs Rosch as she told her story and it was clear that she believed what her daughter was saying.

  They left together. I have no great confidence that Mrs Rosch can give up Daniel but she has promised to kick him out.

  Sunday 23rd October

  George and Edie for lunch. We drank a great deal of brash young Algerian claret. I happened to mention Emma Rosch in another context and George, with his usual insight into human motivation, used the word "slag" which drew a sharp response from Edie and myself and incidentally interrupted Edie's attempts to seduce James. (I am sure that is the wrong verb - a woman just has to exist to arouse James' appetites.)

  That was the end of any hanky panky for the afternoon but we had a magnificent argument. Mind you, I expect even John Major thinks he sounds brilliant after that much cheap wine.

  Monday 24th October

  Got hold of Pat at lunchtime and explained the Emma situation to him. Pat and I are getting on much better this term and he didn't resent my telling him that there really was nothing we could do. Emma has already told me how she would respond to any social workers who took an interest in her case. Social workers are the same as the police to her and the idea of telling them the truth not only does not appeal, it didn't actually occur to her as an option.

  Then I lost my drama class. I arrived at the drama hall (why do we call it that? It is almost permanantly out of commission, being used for exams or some mysterious purpose) to find they had been redirected ... but where?

  Frantic searching eventually revealed them sitting quietly in a Maths room. They had made no trouble but also no effort to alert anyone to their presence. It was too late for the lesson so we all had a good laugh about it and let it go at that.

  Emma sought me out at the end of the day. It seems I underestimated Mrs Rosch. It seems she had gone home, gone straight to the kitchen to get hold of a bread knife, kicked Daniel out of bed and offered to deconstruct parts of his anatomy if he set foot in the neighbourhood again. This threat was accompanied with various thrusts with the bread knife and Daniel took it fairly seriously.

  Not that seriously because he returned on Sunday with a bottle of vodka in his trouser pocket (a flat bottle presumably). Mother and daughter then went into a pre-arranged act with Emma ringing the Talking Clock and pretending to call the police and Emma senior making a dash for the cutlery.

  He ended up tripping on the doormat and causing himself what I hope was a permanent injury with the vodka bottle. Emma broke off her conversation with Tim long enough to call an ambulance but neithr of them lifted a finger to help him and he went off in the ambulance on his own - they both claimed not to know who he was and let him talk to the ambulance crew as best he could, which was not very well.

  My old mother used to say that God pays debts without money.

  Tuesday 25th October

  I should not have made any reference to my old mother - my old atheist mother to be precise - yesterday. Lo and behold, a letter arrived this morning from my brother indicating that he is going away this Christmas and it is ƒb my turn this year.

  We have managed to remain polite (at least polite by our standards) as long as we are not under the same roof. James says that we are like sub-critical masses: safe enough apart, sudden death together. Not a very flattering analogy actually.

  Then I found that I was drinking James' tea. Call me a racist, but I don't like Ceylonese tea (I think Mrs Bandaranaike has a lot to answer for). James started pretending to choke and to add injury to insult he had taken the last Co-op Earl Grey tea bag. "Co-op Earl Grey, what sort of socialist do you think Earl Grey was then?" was his only comment.

  The day didn't get much better. I got into a row with a Christian Aid collector (haven't we already had a Christian Aid week this year?) I told her that Christian Aid didn't raise enough money to keep a bishop in mistresses but it didn't go down very well.

  Wednesday 26th October

  A day of room changes. Some notified. Some un-notified and some merely accidental. Of course this meant that my classes ended up practically anywhere in the building.

  I had forgotten that we were going to the flicks. I saw part of "Dances with Lambs" but fell asleep. James had the sense not to wake me up. He tells me my snoring shook the auditorium.

  Thursday 27th October

  Called in to Oz's office. I feared the worst but I wasn't on the carpet for once. He told me quite formally that he and Jane had split up and he was going to live with Tessa. I gave him a garbled message of sympathy and congratulation and invited them both round for dinner tonight.

  At dinner, Oz and Tessa were more like an old married couple than star-struck lovers. There were lines of strain on Tessa's forehead that I didn't remark before. Oz has always looked like that - perhaps it is catching.

  Oz was drinking rather heavily but then so was Tessa. I rather assumed that they had come by taxi.

  When Oz produced his car keys I was momentarily flabbergasted, then I made a lunge for them and so did James. We bumped heads rather painfully but it seemed to bring Oz to his senses. He and Tessa sat down for one last whisky while I rang for a cab.

  It was then that Oz made an apparently irrelevant reference to George and Edie and then told me about one of his neig
hbours who went to a wife-swapping party and got his own wife back. He then gave me a look which I can only describe as sly. I looked at James, James looked at me (then he looked at Tessa and I kicked him and he looked at me again) and Tessa looked from Oz to me and back again and closed her handbag with a snap like the crack of doom. I think she will keep Oz in order quite nicely

  Friday 28th October

  Did I imagine it, or was our head of department just a little subdued this morning?

  I met Torquemada in the corridor and he said that he must have a word with me at lunchtime. Considering all the options I made sure that he didn't get the opportunity by spending most of the lunch break in my classroom putting 10m(En)2's work on homonyms on the board. He came round to my room after school.

  I assumed that he wanted to talk about his Christian Aid acolyte but apparently it was the general moral decline of the English department that was exercising him.

  General moral laxity, free love (do Methodists pay for it?) and progressive views were all undermining the morals of the pupils. Some of us, he hinted darkly, will no longer tolerate this. An example will have to be made.

  Saturday 29th October

  Shopping at Safeways. Met Mrs Crooke. She gave me another lecture about teaching English. Mr Crooke runs a garage (with a name like that, it figures), I asked her how fond he was of people coming in and telling him how to run his garage. She didn't get the point, or indeed pause for breath.

  I was even able to quote chapter and verse from the National Cur about grammar not being taught as a separate entity but she has clearly closed her mind and thrown away the key.

  Sunday 30th October

  Son of Victor! James produced this device; gold in colour and very small. When he started to use it I didn't immediately detect any difference but then the vibrations got faster, and faster and faster.

  In the end, apparently I was screaming, but I certainly wasn't screaming for it to stop!

  Monday 31st October