by Griff Hosker
As soon as Wayne saw Dave Campbell, a smile erupted on his face. He was Willy Wonka! The disconcerting part was when he opened his mouth for he spoke in a broad Glaswegian accent. “Aah so you must be Wayne. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” and then he held his hand out. Wayne couldn’t believe it. He was being treated like an adult, by a teacher. He also looked like a real teacher, the way teachers he thought teachers ought to look. He had a suit on. In his last school, The Ken Livingston Academy, the teachers wore jeans and open-necked shirts.
“Pleased to meet you Sir.”
Nodding the head said, “What a polite young man. He does you credit Mrs Thomson.”
She was already taken with the substantial building and the head’s manner but the compliment made her certain that this was the school for Wayne. She just hoped that all the teachers were like the head.
“And now a quick tour and then we’ll get down to the boring part; all the forms we have to fill in.”
As they walked around the school Maggie was impressed by the animated manner of the head who enthused about everything. He obviously loved his school. As they passed the staff who were busily beavering away he introduced them .Maggie was less impressed by some of the staff who appeared disinterested in both Wayne and herself. She hoped those would not be Wayne’s teachers. One teacher who did impress her was the young Special Needs teacher Jo Tozer. Maggie noted that she was so attractive that even the pretty Anna looked dowdy by comparison. She was a lively blonde teacher with even more enthusiasm than the head. “So you are Wayne. The head mentioned that you were coming this morning. You are Y8 aren’t you?” Wayne nodded. “I think you will be in my form class. How does that sound?”
“Cool.”
“Excellent. I think it ‘s cool too. I lived in London for a while, Wimbledon. Where did you live?”
“Hackney.”
“I’ve been there. A friend of mine had a flat there. I expect you find Hartlepool a bit different?”
“I like it. It is great. The beach, the ship, it’s great.”
“Well Miss Tozer we have to get on.”
“Bye Wayne.”
“Bye Miss.”
“She seems nice, doesn’t she Wayne?”
“Oh she is one of our stars is Miss Tozer. She is here before me in the morning and after me in the evening. The caretaker is always complaining about having to wait for her to leave so that he can lock up. She’s what we call a dedicated teacher. She will be e-mailing his old school right now to get his SATS and his predicted grades.”
As they left the school Maggie asked the question which had perplexed her since the school visit. “Wayne, Y8 what is it?”
“It’s me, my year. You know they start in Y7 when they go to secondary school and then Y8. When you get to Y11 you leave.”
“Oh like second years. And SATS?”
“That’s the test you do at the end of Y6 in primary school. You are supposed to improve. I didn’t do very well in mine so I will be in a special group.”
“Special?”
“Yeah the thickies. I’ll be doing lots of word searches and filling in gaps in sentences. Making posters in history and geography. Copying out pictures in science.”
“You will not!” Old Maggie was indignant. “You will be doing everything the other kids are doing! Drawing pictures indeed! I never heard the like! We will do some writing after tea.” As she pottered around, mumbling to herself she gradually calmed down. “Why did you do badly in your SATS then? I mean you seem bright as a button to me.”
“Mum wasn’t well and some days I stayed off to look after her. I missed a couple of papers, one English and one maths, which meant I didn’t get a level. The teacher just gave me what they called a teacher assessment but our teacher had been off for a while and the new teacher, well she didn’t seem to know us. She had only been there for four weeks. She spoke with a funny accent. Like Augustus in the Willy Wonka book. She gave me a 2a in both.”
“What in heaven’s name does a 2a mean?”
Wayne shrugged. “I dunno. Not clever?”
As they ate their tea Maggie was pleased that Wayne was so animated and excited by his visit. She had been worried that the move might be traumatic. The first hurdle had been cleared, he liked the head, he liked his teacher and he liked the school. Hopefully he would like the children when actually started. Watching him tuck into his home-made steak pie she smiled. It was good to have a youngster around. It made her feel young, young but exhausted. She wasn’t surprised that her legs ached with all the walking but it was the pain in her arms which made her wonder. Perhaps it was all the cooking she had done; it had been years since she made home made bread and pies. There had been no need for cooking big meals when it was just her living all alone but now she was a family again and it felt good. Yes, she thought, it was using her arms that had made them tired. An early night and she would be better in the morning. But first she would help him with his writing.
“Right Wayne, here is a nice pen and some paper. Let me show you how we were taught to write.” She then began to write a sentence out.
Wayne thought the way she formed her letters was beautiful. “Can you teach me to do that?”
“Of course. Now hold the pen like this and put your arm here.” She tweaked and tugged until his arm and hand were in the right position. “Now for the F you start here and keep it smooth.” He began to copy and his lines were a little shaky at first. “You are doing fine. Just speed up a little with the strokes and when you get to the bottom or the top of a letter you can rest.” Soon he had mastered the sentence she had written.
“Not as nice as yours though nan.”
“You have been doing it for five minutes; I have done it for sixty years. It is just practice. Have another go and I’ll make us some hot chocolate, would you like that?”
“Yes please.”
When she returned, he had filled a page and his writing was already much improved. “That is lovely Wayne. You have improved.”Puffing up like peacock he was about to start again. “Have your hot chocolate and a biscuit and then just do a couple more. It’s getting late.”
The days fell into a comfortable pattern. After breakfast they would ‘do something’. Each day was different: go to the beach, visit the marina, visit Stockton market, go to Billingham Forum, get the train to the Metro Centre. If they were in Hartlepool, they would visit the library in the afternoon and then after tea practise writing and read quietly together. The only regret Maggie had was that there were no children for him to play with but, if truth be told, she was thoroughly enjoying his company. ‘When he starts school,’ she told herself, ‘he’ll have lots of friends and I won’t get to see as much of him then.’
Chapter 4
The week before they started back to school was frenetic. There were items of uniform to buy, pens, pencils, files, a bag; Maggie was determined that he would have everything the other children had. Anna made more frequent visits to give updates on the school and his mother. Wayne was torn, he was excited about going to school but that meant he would spend less time with his nana and he had enjoyed every day since he had made the long train journey from London. He actually felt a little cleverer and he knew that his reading had improved and as for his writing, well, that had improved beyond all recognition. He was actually proud of his writing and desperate to show it off. The problem would be the other kids. He knew he was smaller than the rest and he had no friends. How would they take to him? Anna sensed his unease and she had read the confidential reports from Miriam Calvert-Jones. It did not make pleasant reading. There had been a number of incidents of bullying some of them quite serious and Wayne had become more withdrawn. Reading between the lines, she deduced that the school had been very liberal and frowned on discipline feeling it put children in a straitjacket. From what she had read, Anna thought that a straitjacket might have been perfect for some of Wayne’s tormentors.
“I’ll be in the school every day that first week.” He sudde
nly looked panicky, “No Wayne, not just for you.” She smiled, “I do have other cases you know. But I will be in the school and I know a lot of the teachers. I can keep an eye on you discreetly. I will drop you off in the morning; Nana Thomson said she would pick you up? Good but if you want me to take you home I can do.” He shook his head. “Now here is my mobile number. I know you don’t have a mobile yourself but if you want to talk to me or confide in me then just ring me. Will you do that?”
The first day all three of them had butterflies and a sense of anticipation. Maggie just wanted it all to go smoothly and Wayne just wanted it over. Anna took them early as the head had a busy day ahead but had insisted on greeting his new pupil personally. It also meant there were few children around and therefore less intimidating for Wayne.
When they entered the head’s office, Wayne was delighted to see Miss Tozer. Perhaps his first day would be better than he hoped. The hardest part was saying goodbye to his grandmother. Anna could see the tears welling up in both their eyes and she gestured to Jo to take him away. “Right Mrs Thomson I’ll just take Wayne up to the unit. “ She looked at Wayne and by way of explanation said, “The place where I mark my register.”
“Goodbye pet. I won’t say try your best because you always do.” She flashed a warning look at the teachers who nodded in understanding. “And I’ll be here when the school finishes.” Again she looked at the head. “Will it be all right to come here?”
“For the first week yes and then we’ll see.”
Anna led the diminutive figure away and Wayne went like a French aristo to the tumbrel. Like all secondary schools, the first time a student wanders the corridors it seems huge and scary. Wayne was no exception and he kept as close to the young teacher as he could. “I have a nice form Wayne. You’ll like them and while you wait there’s a computer.” When he didn’t respond as she expected she asked, “You like computers don’t you?”
“Never had one and I don’t know how to use one.”
“What about your last school?”
“The unit didn’t have them.”
“The unit?”
“Yeah where the thickies were sent.”
“Well I will show you how to use one. A bright lad like you will master it in not time at all.”
Being in a school had made Wayne lose all the confidence his grandmother had given him, “But I got rubbish SAT results and I’m dumb.”
“No you are not. Who said you were dumb?”
“Mr Preston my maths teacher. He reckoned I was the thickest boy in London.”
“Never mind Mr Preston. SATS results aren’t everything. Here at Spion we always improve the young people we get through our doors and you are no exception. Well here we are.”
The room was a bright room, divided up into little cubicles each one with a computer. Two classroom assistants were busy filing and looked up when Wayne entered. Diane, Bridget, this is Wayne who has just joined us from London.”
The two ladies both gave him a disarming smile. Wayne was pleased to see that one was only a little taller than he was and he felt less intimidated. The shorter one, Bridget said, “Do you want to pop your bag under the carousel over there and take off your coat. It gets really hot in here.”
The taller one Diane moaned, “That’s because everyone else who has computers had air conditioning but not us, oh no, not the Special Needs Department. We don’t count.”
Suppressing a smile Jo quipped, “Perhaps that’s because we are the Special Needs Department … we can’t count.”
“Oh, very funny Miss. Well I had better get back to the filing or her ladyship will go off on one when she gets in.”
Seeing his puzzled look Bridget said, “The Head of Special Needs, Miss Jarvis. She’s not as bad as Diane makes out but she does make us work hard.”
“Bridget…”
“Coming.”
Jo sat Wayne at a computer and spent the next ten minutes explaining how to switch it on and showing him how to create and open a document. “That is probably all you will need to know today. We’ll have another lesson tomorrow.”
When the bell sounded, it seemed to Wayne that it signalled the opening of the cracks of doom. The room was suddenly filled by a teeming mass of excited humanity. As they poured into the room like fans leaving a football ground, they all stared at Wayne, who blushed which made them all laugh. ‘Great start,’ he thought to himself. Having been at Nan’s for three weeks the sudden noise hit him like a hammer. Their accents seemed harsher than nan’s and he heard words in their conversation he had never heard before.
“Miss! Tell him, he’s being shan[1].”
“Shut up you doyle[2]. I did nowt.”
“How rude! The two of you! Don’t start squabbling on the first day.”
“Howay[3] Miss we’re only having a laugh.”
Wayne was desperate to ask them what they had just said. It had sounded as foreign as the Bengali and Urdu he had heard in the Ken Livingstone Academy. He knew he had to keep quiet as long as possible. He was now dreading the register for he would have to answer his name and they would know he was different. Miss Tozer however did something even worse, she introduced Wayne.
“Now 8T we have a new boy in the class, Wayne Johnson. Now I know we are going to making him feel welcome do let’s all say Hello Wayne.”
The whole class chorused, “Hello Wayne.”
Miss Tozer looked at Wayne expectantly. He knew what was expected, he just didn’t want to do it. “Hello 8T.” As soon as he opened his mouth his London accent marked him as an alien and he heard a few sniggers. Miss Tozer just flashed them a warning look and began to call the register. The register itself was not a problem now that he had identified himself as a foreigner, someone not form Hartlepool. The rest of the morning was spent in the administrative nightmare that was the first day at any school; timetables, lists, times, teachers. The morning passed in a bureaucratic blur. When the morning break came Miss Tozer sensed his reluctance to leave the sanctuary of the base by the fact that he was still sat down when the rest were leaving. “Wayne would you tidy up the room for me? 8T have left it in a mess.”
In a relieved voice he said, “Yes Miss.”
Carol came over with a cup of coffee in one hand and a carton of juice in the other. “Here you are Wayne, a reward for being such a good boy.”
“Thanks Mrs Harper.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. “You’ll be all right you know. I know they seem a bit loud and noisy but they will get to know you and then you’ll fit right in.”
He looked at her with doubt in his eyes. “I hope so Miss, I really hope so.”
Lessons were due to start the one before lunch. The pit of Wayne’s stomach no longer contained butterflies but condors with a huge three metre wingspans. How would he get to his lesson and find it? He would have to ask questions and they would all know he was new. He was worse than a little Y7; at least they came to the school with friends from Primary schools. He knew no-one and to make it worse he sounded strange. As the hour of doom approached Miss Tozer came to Wayne’s cubicle with a boy. Wayne had noticed he had also sat on his own and he had noted, as he had scanned the room for potential bullying dangers, that this boy was silent and spoke to no-one. “Wayne, this is Stephen, he is in most of your sets. If you go around with him he will show you the way and Mrs Harper will pick you up for an early lunch.”
“Thanks Miss.” Stephen just looked at Wayne with eyes that reminded Wayne of a fish, they looked dead and without hope.
“Hello.”
Stephen responded in a monotone, “Hello.”
Wayne couldn’t be sure if this was resentment or just Stephen’s way. He would know by the end of the day. As he looked at his carefully copied out timetable he noticed that all his sets appeared to have high numbers, 87E, English, 88M, mathematics and so on.”What do the numbers of the sets mean?”
“The higher the number the lower the set. 8 is the bottom set.”
Inwar
dly he groaned. He might feel cleverer, his reading might be better but he was still labelled by a stupid test he had taken almost three years earlier when he was a different person in a different place. That was before Nana Thomson came into his life. He would just have to show them all that he was cleverer. When Mr Campbell noticed he would be sure to move him from his present sets, after all, he had said that Spion Kop was a school of opportunities where anyone could achieve anything.
As they left the base they entered the maelstrom that was the corridor. Huge year eleven students barged their way along the middle of the corridor like oil tankers leaving year sevens floundering in their wake. Wayne followed Stephen, who seemed to almost melt against the wall where at least there was some safety, and they negotiated a safer passage. They soon found themselves outside the maths’ room. As they lined up, trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible Stephen actually ventured a comment, “Mr Lancaster. Keep your head down and say nowt. He hates kids.”
Wayne knew that he was in for it when the corridor suddenly became silent and children flung themselves out of the way of the barrel of a man who strode down the corridor. “Line up or you’ll all be in detention!” Without looking around Wayne knew they were in a line and they were silent. This was going to be a challenge. Opening the door the glowering teacher stood next to it. “In you go. In silence. Find a desk and if you behave you might keep it.” As Wayne went by he was assaulted by the smell of a thousand cigarettes, the smell seemed to erupt from every part of the teacher, his clothes his hair, what there was of it, and his breath as he roared down the corridor, “Miss Smith will you keep you class quiet! Even my half wits are quieter!”
