by Kitty Wilson
His round face and laughing eyes were right there in her head making her smile with the possibilities of the two of them spending time together as she turned into the staff car park. And ta-daa, right there in exactly the same spot as it had been before, was the car she had sent to her father’s garage. Perfect!
Chapter Seven
Kam sat at the little table in the middle of the classroom. Like all foundation stage or early-years settings, it was vibrant, alive with colour and there was a really good feeling in this classroom, the aura of a happy productive school. He was so chuffed to be here. He had heard getting any kind of job in a Cornish school was next to impossible, a bit of a dead-man’s-shoes game, and this temporary position was a gift that meant he could be back on track, or at least a few steps closer, to achieving his five-year plan.
Plus, it might go some way to getting his family off his back. Having said that it may still be a while before his father forgave him.
And now he was sitting here raring to go and with a huge pot of coffee in front of him. Kam was very much a coffee man, although he was guilty of lying to his mum and swearing he only ever drank decaff. It was one of her things. His poor dad never heard the end of it and was driven to desperate measures daily. He rather hoped the women he would be working with shared his coffee love. Miss Winter, he had met for his interview, and he knew he would enjoy working alongside her, but the class teaching assistant had been out when they had shown him around, something to do with the Easter celebrations.
This took his mind back to the meeting in the car park with the Easter Bunny. She had been fab. He liked her, a lot. So much so that he hoped that she wouldn’t turn out to be the classroom assistant he was assigned. He wanted to make a good impression here, and having your foot in the door within a school was key. Like most jobs, word of mouth was fundamental and he wanted to do his absolute best in Penmenna so that when it came time to move on, Rosy Winter would put in a good word for him. Good words were how one got permanent positions. Permanent positions were his only way to achieve his goals and the best chance of getting his family to see that his decisions had been good ones.
And one did not get good words by mixing business with pleasure. If the Easter Bunny was the teaching assistant, then that could cause more than a few ripples in his smooth professional life. The fact that she resembled the blonde bombshells of old and laughed at his jokes meant he had developed a minor crush in the first thirty seconds of meeting her. That was not conducive to professional workplace relations.
He poured himself another cup of coffee and was somewhat self-indulgently sniffing it as he did so when he heard the classroom door open.
‘Oh wow, that smells amazing.’ Blonde bombshell entered the room and Kam could feel a huge grin spreading across his face in reaction to her presence. Was it possible for one’s heart to sink and to race at the same time? Plus, if anything was amazing, it was she.
She walked towards him, her curves fully highlighted in some kind of jumper that was a dress and reminded him of Mad Men and all things sixties. Damn, he needed to stop grinning. Had he not just told himself this would be a bad idea? Maybe this was just coincidence. Maybe she worked in another part of the school and had just come in here for supplies or something?
She pulled out the chair and plonked a Tupperware container remarkably similar to the ones his mother carted around everywhere, on the table in front of them.
‘Is one of these mugs for me? I do hope so. I’m known to kill for proper coffee and that wouldn’t be great before term even started.’ She pulled one of the mugs towards her, then the cafetière and poured herself some coffee, pausing to inhale it before taking her first sip.
‘Oh, this is incredible. I was hoping it was you who got the job. We’re going to work well together, I just have a feeling. But this, well, this’ – she inhaled again – ‘this confirms it. You, Mr Choudhury, have just made my morning. Mmm.’
The pleasure she was taking in the coffee was something he understood but it was not making him feel very teacherly. Those bright red lips on the curve of the cup, the way she inhaled deep and drank with such feeling was a little bit too sensual for the workplace first thing in the morning. Damn.
After she had drunk about half a cup in one go, she cradled the mug in her hands and gestured towards the container.
‘Help yourself, my mother has some kind of baking addiction and these were left on my doorstep this morning. They’re pretty good, oatmeal and raisin and in the shape of pencils. You’ll have to excuse that; it’s her thing.’
‘Oh, I can excuse that if they taste as good as they look. I have a mum that does that too.’
‘Makes pencil biscuits and leaves them on your doorstep?’
‘Not quite, but almost. She is incapable of leaving the house without an identical container filled with all sorts of treats which she doles out to anyone who crosses her path. She even used to bring them in at parents evening. Can you imagine how embarrassing that was? “Mrs Choudhury, Kam is very charming and particularly bright but does have a tendency to get easily distracted… ooh I know, here have some barfi, it’s mango… Quite Mrs Choudhury, but the thing is… yes, I know, here have some Gulab Jamun, careful though they are very sticky…” Honestly, I swear, the teachers worked out that all they had to do to get free treats was invite her in and imply I wasn’t perfect.’
‘That’s hilarious. Are you not perfect then?’
‘Well, I am now, obviously, but no one is perfect in their adolescence.’
‘Isn’t that the truth!’
‘Everyone tells me how lucky I am to have such an amazing cook as a mother, but honestly, I swear the whole community constantly hovers in the hope she’ll drag them in and feed them. You should see how busy the house gets at Diwali.’
‘Oh, tell me about it. Mine feels the need to feed the whole village at every possible festivity. Halloween and Christmas are completely out of hand!’
‘Hello you two, nice to see you.’ Miss Winter, the headteacher, suddenly appeared at the table, reminding Kam quite forcefully that he was here to work, not merely to drink coffee and eat biscuits. Although, how Miss Winter had entered the classroom without either of them noticing seemed a bit of a mystery. ‘I see you’ve met each other already.’
‘Yup, we met on the interview day. Kam, isn’t it?’ Pippa smiled over the brim of her cup at him.
‘Yup, Kam Choudhury. Pleasure to meet you more formally.’
‘Well, seeing as we’re being formal, my surname’s Parkin. Pippa Parkin, so have a giggle now and get it over with. All of us, my brother and sister were given forenames beginning with P. My parents thought it was hilarious to be alliterative. Us, less so.’
‘It’s a very nice name.’ He smiled at her, willing himself to be bold and make eye contact as he spoke. After all, this was going to be a professional relationship so he wouldn’t mess it up like he did normally with any woman he was attracted too. Kam cursed his shyness usually, but he guessed here it would work in his favour and stop him blurring those professional lines.
‘Right, brilliant.’ Rosy interrupted them and got down to business. ‘Kam will be covering Lynne’s hours so will be in the classroom with you on Mondays and Fridays, but has kindly offered to come in all week for the first week of term so he can see how the week is shaped and become familiar with the children’s whole routine, rather than just the days he’s in. Thank you again for that, Kam. It’s much appreciated.’
‘It’s a pleasure, Miss Winter. It makes sense to get a good overview of the children so that I can organise my teaching to work the best it can alongside yours.’
‘We’re very lucky to have you, although, please call me Rosy. I feel like a character straight out of Dickens otherwise. Now, let’s look at the planning for this term. Oh, I might help myself to coffee first if that’s okay?’
The morning whizzed by and Kam was really happy to be here. It looked like he was going to have a lot of fun teaching the summe
r term curriculum in Penmenna. It revolved largely around Cornish culture with a special emphasis on their community, an awful lot of the learning taking place outdoors – some at Penmenna Hall – and tying in with the science curriculum: the growing, harvesting and cooking of produce linked to the school’s regular slot on local TV gardening programme Green-Fingered and Gorgeous in the first half of the term. The other dominant focus was the sea, the beach, the fishing industry and all things marine. The term’s work culminated in a huge demonstration of the school work at the end of summer term in the village’s Feast Week, which he learnt was a Cornish celebration, a week’s worth of festivities rather like a regatta but slightly more down to earth. Either way, it was going to be fun. Especially working alongside Pippa Parkin.
Chapter Eight
On the first day of term Pippa raced to work. She had always loved working with Lynne and Rosy, and had been over the moon for Lynne when she announced her pregnancy and need for maternity leave. She knew how desperately Lynne wanted to start a family and the three colleagues had celebrated the pregnancy every step of the way.
However, Pippa had been a little concerned about Lynne’s replacement. Teachers came in all shapes and sizes and, like any other group in society, sometimes you could get a downright difficult one. So far, she had considered herself very lucky to never have had to work with any monsters, but she had had a little niggle in the back of her mind as Lynne’s maternity leave approached. Of course, knowing that the replacement was going to be Kam changed everything.
During for the planning meeting last week she had been struck again by how nice he was, smiling and joking but contributing lots. She was really looking forward to working alongside him. Although, it was easy being nice when you had an empty classroom and a full cafetière; the real test would come when he was faced with twenty plus children, Rosy in her office and a crisis looming. And crises were ten-a-penny when you were working with four and five-year-olds.
Pippa usually got in to school early. She liked the peace in the classroom at that time of day; it gave her a chance to double-check she had all the resources she needed and to take some time out to breath in the quietness and the solitude before the chaos hit. Plus, it beat eating her cornflakes while trying to practise a bit of daily mindfulness under the steely gaze of the stuffed stoat and the very dead dormouse that Lottie currently kept on the kitchen table next to some kind of essay on Robo-advisors and the stock market which managed to make Pippa’s head hurt just by glancing at it.
Today, as she reached the door and punched in the code, she realised she wasn’t the first in. There was Kam, an oversized cup in hand sending out aromatic waves of delightful awakening coffee magic.
Rosy soon joined them and the children all bowled in, chattering like starlings. Lunchboxes, reading bags and coats all jostling for space in the small cloakroom. As they gathered on the carpet the day could begin.
‘Hello, class. Welcome back. I hope you all had a fabulous holiday.’
‘Hello, Miss Winter,’ the children chorused back at her. Pippa came and sat on the carpet with Alfie and Harry, who sometimes found it a little difficult to focus, and made sure she positioned herself as close to Billy as possible too. He was one of the oldest in the class; this was his second year in Class One, which wasn’t unusual with it being a mixed key stage. Billy may be the eldest but his natural enthusiasm sometimes crossed over into slightly manic.
Pippa knew you shouldn’t have favourites in a class, but she did like the more outspoken ones, the ones who other teachers or teaching assistants dreaded. Rosy and Lynne were outstanding in teaching those who would have traditionally struggled in school, but that didn’t mean the children suddenly became perfect clones; they still needed plenty of very gentle reminders to comply, not whack each other with the toys, lick the carpet or shove counters up their nose during maths.
‘I’d like to introduce you to Mr Choudhury. He’ll be your teacher on Mondays and Fridays whilst Mrs Rowe is away having her baby.’
Sophie and Ashleigh started to snigger.
‘Are you alright, girls?’ Rosy queried in that age-old teacher way which was code for ‘I’m not asking how you feel. I’m telling you to shut up.’
‘Mrs Rowe is having a baby… hahahahahahaha!’
‘Thank you, Sophie, we are all very happy about that.’
‘She’s been kissing.’ Sophie continued, never one to shy away from facing down authority. Pippa wriggled towards the two girls and placed a calming hand on Sophie’s back, a silent reminder that this was not how one behaved at carpet time.
‘No doubt she has, Sophie, but as you know that is not something we are going to talk about now. Instead we’re going to give a big Class One welcome to Mr Choudhury, and try and show him that he’s not about to be left with a classroom full of little monsters. And you’re not little monsters, are you?’
‘Hello, Mr Choudhury,’ chorused the majority of the class, their little legs crossed and faces upturned, beaming a welcome as they examined the new teacher and tried to decide what they thought of him.
‘Some of us are,’ piped up Billy, ‘’specially at Halloween, I was a real big monster then.’
‘And me, I was a vampire,’ Sam joined in. He had been a terribly quiet child when he first joined the school but, nearly a year in, he had certainly started to find his voice.
‘My mum says I’m always a little monster but my dad calls me a little heller!’ Alfie added. His father spoke truth.
‘Well, Mr Choudhury, you can see that most of them are beautifully behaved but some of them…’ Rosy left a meaningful pause as she grinned at her class, a grin that was full of love and left the children in no doubt that she was joking.
‘I can indeed. But that’s okay, my mum used to say I was a monster too, and then I grew up and I became a teacher so am much less monstery these days. Miss Winter tells me you like to start with a story, so I have brought some of my favourites with me today and I thought I’d let you choose which one we start with.’ Kam grinned at the class and held up three well-loved picture books and suggested the class had a vote.
‘The trouble is, Class One, it’s Monday morning and my counting brain hasn’t quite fired up yet, so I might need your help…’ Kam immediately got stuck in, getting the children to vote and then help him tally up the votes by counting out loud with him.
‘Right, I can see you’re in good hands here. I’m going to my office and leaving you with Mr Choudhury. Remember to show him that Class One are the best class in the school. Miss Parkin will be here too; I will be asking her at breaktime who has been extra good this morning, and you know she always tells me what’s been happening.’
‘Thank you, Miss Winter, we shall see you later. We are going to have some fun, aren’t we, class?’
A very well-behaved cheer went up as Rosy turned and left Pippa and Kam to it. And it was fair to say Mr Choudhury was smashing it. He managed to combine a really approachable teaching style with the children, making their morning good fun, whilst at the same time no one was under any illusion that he wasn’t fully in charge.
There was about fifteen minutes of the morning left to go, and Pippa knew she would be able to tell Rosy that Kam was utterly fabulous and the perfect cover for Lynne, when the classroom door opened and in walked Marion Marksharp. Woah! Now this was likely to become a baptism of fire. The majority of the teachers here couldn’t cope with this terrifying creature and her barked commands, no matter how many years teaching experience they had. Kam didn’t stand a chance. Especially as she seemed to have updated her image overnight.
Marion could usually be relied upon to prowl the corridors of the school, instilling fear and sporting a variety of tight, patterned clothes that were straight out of terribly middle-class boutiques in Fowey and Padstow – ladybirds and jaguars appearing to be this year’s favourite motifs – a look that her PTA devotees immediately adopted as a uniform, although none would be quite as fitted or pronounced as those w
orn by their Queen Bee. But today… today she had upped the ante and for some reason had decided to come to school in what Pippa, with her knowledge of all things vintage and her generous spirit, could only describe as Up-and-coming-eighties-Essex-elite-chic.
The dress, if that was what it was, had been sprayed onto Marion in an electric blue leopard print. It sat like a second skin, cut so low over her bosom that Pippa was aware she may well get a flash of tummy button. She was half tempted to grab a scarf from the dressing up corner and cover the woman up before the children developed PTSD.
Even more alarming was the look on Marion’s face as she stood in the doorway, arm perched upon the door jamb and striking a very sultry pose, as she eyed up Kam.
There was nothing for it: Pippa was going to have to intervene and get Marion out before she terrified the new teacher into running, screaming, out of the building, or brought about some other kind of catastrophe. Whatever happened she really hoped Marion’s acolytes didn’t start copying this new look, or Penmenna School could easily be mistaken for the casting room of ‘Mafia Wives’.
‘I’ll only be a minute, you guys. See if you can count up this group of seeds and then this group and see how many plants we’d have if we put all the seeds together. I’ll be back to help shortly.’ The teaching assistant leapt to her feet and made her way towards the head of the PTA. ‘Mrs Marksharp, what a pleasant surprise.’
Marion arched her eyebrows as Pippa greeted her, an arch that would have had Harmony, the Class Three teacher, running for the stationary cupboard. Luckily Pippa was made of sterner stuff.
‘Mrs Marksharp, is there anything you need?’
‘Yes, dear, there is, and it doesn’t involve you.’ Wow, that was pointed, even for Marion. It clearly wasn’t just her dress sense that was ramped up to scarily aggressive levels.
