When You Know

by Archer, Kiki

  “What do you mean?” asked Susan, lifting her cutlery and signalling for Jenna to start.

  “Oh you know, I don’t want to talk out of turn, but it’s always on his terms. I guess I sometimes feel like a bit of a show pony. Like he’s only interested in me when other people are around.”

  Susan smiled. “You’re not a show pony, Angel. You’re a thoroughbred prize winner.”

  “Oh honey, you really think?”

  “I really think.”

  Angel lowered her voice. “Well if it doesn’t work out with him I’ve got my mister sweetie pie.” She tilted her head. “At the bar. Doctor. Consultant I think. What’s the female version of a consultant? A sultan? Would I be a sultan?”

  “Yes, I think you would,” said Jenna, cutting into a piece of pork.

  “Oh ladies, you’re lovely. I’ll leave you in peace.” She stood up and straightened her pink neon skirt. “One last thing.” She pointed at the jukebox. “Those girls. They say they’re eighteen. They’re yours aren’t they?”

  Susan leaned to the side and spotted Champagne Willington and Priggy Bunton-Chatsworth hovering by the jukebox. “Yes. They’re eighteen.”

  “Always good to check. I wouldn’t want to lose us our licence. What would my mister cuddle tums say?”

  Jenna frowned. “Cuddle tums?”

  “Owner. He wants to add a huge coffee machine to the bar. Says it’ll make me a barrister, but I’ve never liked law.” Angel shrugged. “C’est la vie.” She smiled. “My mister smoochy pants taught me that. He really is a good guy you know.”

  Jenna struggled to swallow. “He’s—”

  “We know,” said Susan. “We’ll tell him to call.”

  “Thank you, honey. Enjoy your meals, and slip me the nod if you want extra gravy,” said Angel, making her way back to the bar.

  “Misguided,” said Jenna, shaking her head.

  “But so is he,” said Susan, “and I do feel really rather sorry for him. What if—”

  “Stop, don’t start. Tonight’s about us, our future, the future that Professor Up-My-Own-Arsey Pants won’t be part of. What time’s his thing again?”

  “Six p.m, in the meeting room.”

  “Can I come?”

  “I doubt it. But we’ve got that staff meeting at four, which you’ll be part of.”

  “If I get the placement.”

  “When you get the placement. They’ll introduce you, and I think they’re making the final appointments tomorrow for three other roles as well, so they’ll introduce those people too.”

  Jenna nodded. “I looked on the board. It’s the new vice principal, the new IT teacher, and what was the other one?”

  “History,” said Susan, slicing into her beans.

  “How long will it last?”

  “Not too long. Ellen will introduce you all, get you to say hello, embarrass you by reciting your credentials. We had one last week when they appointed the new art teacher. It’s all very exciting and completely over the top, but Ellen says a warm welcome’s the perfect way to start something special.”

  “She seems really good.”

  “She is, she’s great.” Susan tutted at the presence behind her. “I know you’re hovering back there.”

  Champagne and Priggy sheepishly stepped into view. “We’ve tried to give you your space, but we can’t! She’s back! She’s here! We’re so excited!”

  Jenna shoved along in her seat. “Come on then, come join us. Tell us all of your news.”

  The girls glanced at Susan.

  “Go on,” said Susan with a smile, “I’ve got some catching up to do too. Now, remind me again. Is it Edward and Bella or Mischa and Phats?”

  Priggy laughed hysterically.

  “It wasn’t that funny, Priggs,” said Champagne, sitting down and lifting her arm up to her teacher’s shoulder, “but I’m glad you’re back, Susie. That Madam Quinn’s been a right royal—”

  “Champs!” Priggy kicked her friend under the table.

  Susan smiled. “It’s fine. She’s right. It’s been a difficult time. But things are certainly looking up.”

  “US TOO!” shouted Priggy. “WE GOT INTO MANCHESTER!”

  Champagne licked her finger and darted it through the air. “I’ll be there with bad boy Phats!”

  Priggy tried to do the same thing. “And I’ll be there with munch me Mischa!”

  Everyone at the table moaned. “Priggy!”

  “What?”

  Jenna smiled. “You’ll have a brilliant time. You should both be really proud of yourselves.”

  “We have to get the grades first,” said Champagne, starting to pout.

  “A-grade students,” said Susan.

  Priggy’s eyes were wide. “You think?”

  “I know.”

  “Oh Susie, you’re so sweet.” Champagne reached out her arms. “I love this version of you. Come on, ski circle cuddle everyone.”

  Priggy edged even closer to her teacher, thrilled by the giddiness of their celebrations. “Ski circle snuggle.”

  Champagne rolled her eyes. “I said cuddle, Priggy, not snuggle.”

  Priggy removed her hand from Susan’s waist. “Oh, sorry, Champs. Sorry, Madam Quinn.” She paused, looking at the table full of food. “Come on, let’s leave them to it. We just wanted to say hi, and bye, and that we’ll miss you.”

  Champagne shrugged. “Yeah we’re gutted we won’t be here next year. You’re going to be amazing Jenna, and you’re great too, Susie.”

  “It’s Madam Qui …” Susan paused. “Thank you, Champagne.”

  Priggy nodded. “And you’ll never guess what? Our courses can be linked to the teacher training programme after two years if we want.”

  “God help us,” laughed Jenna.

  Champagne flicked her hair. “Hey, if they take you, they’re bound to take us.”

  “Oi, you cheeky beggar.”

  “Seriously,” said Champagne, “good luck for tomorrow. You’re our role model, Jenna.” She paused. “Priggy and I think you’re fab.”

  “And you too, Madam Quinn,” added Priggy far too quickly.

  Susan smiled and lifted her glass. “To tomorrow.”

  “To tomorrow,” they cheered.

  Chapter Thirty One

  Susan kept her eyes on the large oak door. It was 3.45 p.m. What was taking so long? Ellen Cavanagh was needed in the staffroom at 4.00 p.m. to introduce and welcome today’s newly appointed teachers, so why weren’t they coming out? What was the delay? Susan checked her watch and glanced around the imposing entrance hall. Had she missed them? No, of course she hadn’t. She had been sitting there the whole time, eyes glued to the door. She took a deep breath and bit the inside of her lip, carefully trying to think it through. Jenna had entered the principal’s office an hour ago, looking every bit the professional. But why wasn’t she out? How long could it possibly take to confirm a training placement? Had Marcus got in there first? Had he shown Ellen something to make her reconsider? Had he smeared Jenna’s name. Had he sabotaged—

  “I got it!” gasped Jenna, in an excitedly hushed voice, racing her way across the large wooden expanse towards the upholstered benches. “I got it!” She made a fist in the air, quickly glancing back to check she’d closed the door behind her. She had, so she made a double fist in the air and jumped up and down. “I got it!”

  Susan dashed up from her seat and scurried towards her girlfriend. “You got it?”

  “I got it!” said Jenna, throwing her arms around Susan’s back and holding her tightly. “I got it!”

  Susan breathed in Jenna’s sweet smell, trying her best to control her emotions. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. “So, so proud.”

  Jenna let her lips brush against Susan’s ear, stealing a quick kiss, before stepping backwards and straightening her suit. “Principal Cavanagh said she’d be out in a minute. She’s walking me to the staffroom. She says all of the staff will be there. I’m getting introduced! As a professional! Me!
Jenna James! A trainee teacher!” She straightened her suit once more and tried to control her giggles. “That’s what took so long. She’d lost my list of credentials. A mix up with the day of my interview or something. She says it’s been hectic what with all the other appointments this week. But anyway, it’s done. She’s putting a picture of me on the PowerPoint with the title: Jenna James, School Direct Trainee Teacher – Drama. She even took a new photo of me. It was hilarious because she couldn’t get the camera working, but anyway. Can you imagine? Little old me, entering the staffroom with the principal of St Wilfred’s.” Jenna laughed. “This is all so exciting.”

  “Ooo, I better go ahead then,” giggled Susan, “and don’t worry, Afia from accommodation’s bound to be there. We can catch up with her afterwards. Hang on, no, there she is now!” Susan spotted the small woman marching past the marble busts. “Afia! Afia! A quick second!”

  The woman stopped her walk and waved in response.

  “I’ll walk down with her now. I’m so proud of you,” said Susan, “so proud!” She smiled and gave Jenna’s shoulders a final squeeze. “I’ll see you in there.”

  Ellen Cavanagh emerged from her office with her hand outstretched, signalling towards the long oak corridor. “Madam James, after you.”

  Jenna tried to keep a straight face. “Thank you, Principal Cavanagh.”

  Susan watched as her girlfriend walked off, looking every inch the perfect professional. “Afia,” she said again, scurrying quickly towards the marble busts, “Jenna’s got it! She’s in! She’s starting in September!”

  The small lady smiled. “And you want first dibs on the apartment in the larger living quarters?”

  “If you think that’s okay?”

  Afia nudged Susan’s arm. “Of course it’s okay. First come first served,” she said with a giggle. “But I don’t think those two luscious ladies in the staffroom will be best pleased.”

  “What ladies?”

  Afia started to walk. “I’ll show you,” she said, smiling conspiratorially. “It’s unofficial gossip, but apparently there’s been a young couple appointed. Looks to die for. Moving down here from—”

  “Mon amie, mon amie, un momento!” Marcus Ramsbottom was marching through the main entrance.

  “I’ll see you in there,” said Afia.

  “Save me a seat, and thank you, you’re a star.”

  Afia shrugged. “Jenna’s great. I think you’re both really great together. I’m thrilled that she’s staying.”

  Marcus sighed as the lady walked away. “Staying? Oh little does she know.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’ve taken it to the wire. I’ve given you ample opportunity to see sense. I’ve given you space. I’ve kept my distance. But no. There’s been no word from you. You haven’t come to find me. You haven’t asked how things are.” He sighed. “So you leave me no choice. Two hours from now we’ll be at my tribunal, or tittle tattle talk through as I prefer to call it. Be kind. Be positive, and show me support.” He licked the corners of his moustache in achievement. “Or I’ll take this to Principal Cavanagh tonight.” He pulled the blue memory stick from the breast pocket of his tweed jacket.

  Susan rolled her eyes. “I don’t care if you show people my selfies.”

  “Oh no, no, no, no, no, my mon amie. These aren’t just your selfies. These are your selfies, and some crystal clear tequila tit shots. Jenna James bare chested. Liquor lashing down her breast. Ladies at her knee licking their lips.” He moaned. “Such a shame I can’t keep them to myself.” He shrugged. “But I can’t, can I? We wouldn’t want someone like that working at a prestigious establishment like this.” He shrugged again. “Her interview’s tomorrow. Such a shame if someone sees them tonight.”

  Susan laughed. “Oh you totally misguided twat of a tosspot!”

  “Mon amie!”

  Susan laughed again. “She’s got the placement! It’s just been confirmed!” She nodded towards the principal portraits and the slow stream of teachers heading down the long corridor. “The staff meeting that everyone’s going to, she’s already there.” Susan paused. “With her new best friend, Principal Cavanagh. You know how charismatic Jenna is. Their interview ran over. They were having such a great laugh. She’s getting officially introduced and welcomed. You’re too late, Marcus. You’re just too late.”

  “Today? No! When? I’ve been saving these pictures!”

  Susan shrugged her shoulders and started to walk. “What does it matter? She’ll be here in September, but I doubt we can say the same about you.”

  “How dare you!” gasped Marcus. “And who’s we?!” He flapped his arms and started to fume. “I’ll show you! I’ll show all of you!” Marcus clutched the blue stick and marched straight past her, shouting louder as he picked up speed. “You people are wrong! You’re all so wrong! I’ll show you who’s right! Questioning my integrity whilst you employ a woman like that!” Marcus waved the stick in the air and started to run. “I’m a teacher! She’s nothing! She’s nobody! I won’t let this happen!”

  “Marcus, stop, wait!” Susan upped her pace, stumbling slightly as she passed the peering portrait of Edward Sears, 1922–1929.

  “You can’t stop me now! I’m a man on a mission! A saviour of the school! A paragon of—” Marcus jumped to the left as Martha Adams and Mary Llewellyn sped round the corner, narrowly missing him with their mobility scooter.

  “Madam Quinn,” shouted Martha, “there’s something wrong with the motor! Stand to the side!” She was waving her hand and frowning in panic. “Wait, no, whoa!”

  Susan watched as the two old ladies wobbled around on the red machine, swerving towards the trophy cabinet. “Use the brakes!” she shouted.

  “We know it shakes!” yelled Mary.

  Susan shouted louder as the scooter sped closer. “The switch! Turn off the switch!”

  “Don’t call her a bitch!” said Mary. “She’s not trying to hit you! She’s—”

  “Ahhhh!” came the scream as the scooter stopped suddenly, sending both old ladies skidding down onto their knees.

  Susan raced to their side. “Are you okay? What can I do?”

  “You and your bloody tinkering, Mary.” Martha Adams was dusting off her skirt. “I wish you’d just leave it alone.”

  “You’ve broken a bone?” Mary Llewellyn pulled herself up from the floor.

  Susan glanced down the corridor. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

  Martha tutted. “You can’t leave an old woman lying on the floor! Pass me the port!”

  Susan felt a surge of panic. “Sorry, no, of course not, hang on.”

  ****

  Ellen Cavanagh was holding court in front of her staff, smiling with warmth and exuding her expertise as a people person, aware of the importance of good first impressions. She clicked on the PowerPoint and nodded. The current staff had to respect the new staff, and the new staff had to feel welcomed. “So, first I’d like to introduce Nicola Stevens who’ll be joining us in the IT Department.” Ellen waited for the clapping to die down, knowing that her fancy ‘Faces & Facts’ PowerPoint presentation achieved both aims. The staff nodded as she pointed out Nicola’s previous achievements, and Nicola blushed at their cheers.

  ****

  “Anything else I can do?” asked Susan, quickly pushing the machine up against the wall.

  “Yes a real hullabaloo!” nodded Mary, taking a swig from the hip flask.

  “No, sorry, listen, I need to get to the staffroom.” She glanced down the corridor. “I really need to get to the staffroom.”

  ****

  Ellen ended her clapping and signalled for Jenna to stand. “And now we have a somewhat familiar face amongst us all. Some of you taught her and some of you were teaching before she was born.”

  Dorothy Brown’s muttering was drowned out with the laughter.

  “Let’s welcome Jenna James back to St Wilfred’s. She’s joining us on the School Direct programme and will be an active member of the Arts
Faculty. She’ll complete her teacher training onsite, and in just over a year she’ll be a fully-fledged drama teacher.”

  “Hopefully,” said Jenna with a smile.

  “Most certainly,” said Ellen, clicking onto the PowerPoint presentation. “Jenna not only excelled as a student here at St Wilfred’s, gaining straight As in her exams, but she went on to achieve a first class degree from Durham.”

  ****

  Susan raced down the corridor and swerved around the corner, narrowly missing Daisy Button and her crutches.

  “Madam Quinn—”

  “Not now, Daisy!” shouted Susan, continuing her run.

  “But—”

  “Not now!”

  ****

  Marcus heard the sound of the shoes fast approaching. “You should have stuck with me, sweetheart,” he shouted, as Susan came into view.

  “Marcus, don’t!”

  Marcus shrugged his shoulders as he pushed through the staffroom door. Jenna was standing at the front with Ellen. “Well isn’t this nice,” he shouted, interrupting the applause.

  “Take a seat please, Professor Ramsbottom.” Ellen was pointing to the chairs that were vacant in the corner of the room.

  “Oh no, sorry, I need centre stage for this.” He edged his way to the front and stopped next to the laptop that was sitting on top of the IT trolley. “Connected to the big screen, isn’t it?”

  ****

  Susan skidded to a stop at the staffroom door, clutching the handle and pushing the door ajar. She gasped. He was at the front. He was plugging it in. She stood still, unable to enter the room.

  ****

  “Excuse me please, Professor Ramsbottom, I’d like you to take a seat.” Ellen glanced at the new vice principal who was sitting silently, observing proceedings. “Now please.”