Journey to Christmas (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza)

by Clare Revell

  The bell sounded for the end of the first period. The students had a twenty-minute break before they needed to reach their next classes. Noise filled the hallway and chatter increased as some of them cut through the hall to reach the language classes on the other side. Of course, they stopped to watch until he shooed them away. No doubt it would be all over the school before the end of break time.

  Liam Page appeared with a sheaf of papers in his hand. “How is she?”

  “Not great. Is there anyone she knows really well who can go with her to the hospital? I would, but we’ve only just met, and I have three students to deal with.”

  Liam narrowed his eyes as he thought. “She’s friendly with Mrs. Welsh who teaches French, but as I’m here, I’ll go with her. I have a student teacher this week. She’s perfectly capable of covering the class for now.”

  “Thank you. I’ll arrange for someone to pop in and out of your classes until you get back. Does the student teacher know what to do?”

  Liam nodded. “Yes. The class is reading through Walkabout.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll let my wife know where I’ll be.”

  The paramedic glanced up. “We’ll take her in. Do you have her next of kin details?”

  Fraser nodded. “Yes, I’ll give them a ring and have them meet you there. Mr. Page will go with you for now. I’ll text him Miss Underwood’s details.”

  He followed the gurney through to main reception and out to the waiting ambulance. “Keep in touch,” he told Liam.

  Liam nodded as he climbed inside. “I will.”

  Fraser headed back inside. He glowered at the three shocked and silent boys. “I’m calling your parents. When they arrive, we will have a chat. Is that understood?”

  “Will she be all right?”

  Fraser’s patience evaporated. “Will she be all right, what?” he roared.

  “Will she be all right, sir?”

  “I hope so, for your sake. She’s just been taken out of here unconscious.”

  “Are you calling the police?” another kid asked.

  “Yes I am. What you did was assault, causing actual bodily harm.” He stalked into his office and slammed the door. He leaned against it, closing his eyes. Lord, I know I asked for a challenge, but this wasn’t really what I had in mind. Give me the words, the strength to deal with this in a calm manner. And take care of Miss Underwood. Please.

  2

  Paiton settled on the sofa while her older sister, Sue, fussed around her. “There really is no need.”

  “Stop saying that.” Irritation flared in her sister’s voice. “You’ve said that at least fifteen times since you got home. If you’re not staying at mine, then your place needs a good cleaning before I leave you.”

  “It wasn’t dirty,” Paiton protested. “And don’t tell me it was. The budgies drop seed everywhere, it’s what they do.”

  Sue put the tray on Paiton’s lap. “Dinner and forget the ‘I’m not hungry’ line. It’s your favourite—cauliflower cheese, with bonus carrots and sprouts. I think sprouts are disgusting before you cover them in cheese sauce, but you always were a strange child. From the moment you were born, you ate things normal people would run a mile from.”

  Paiton chuckled. “That’s fine, because sprouts think you’re disgusting.”

  Sue laughed. “Glad to see your sense of humour isn’t broken. Anyway, time I went home to feed my rabble. Leave the dishes, and I’ll sort them tomorrow.”

  “They can go in the dishwasher.” Paiton waved at the purple cast encasing her right arm. “I can do that one handed. It could have been a lot worse.”

  “Yeah. They could have killed you.”

  “Hardly.”

  “What’s the school doing about it?”

  Paiton shrugged and then wished she hadn’t as pain shot through her whole upper body. “Liam said the new Head texted him that he was calling in the parents and the police, but I guess I’ll find out tomorrow when I go in.”

  Sue put her hands on her hips and gave Paiton one of those trademark older-sister-stares. “You can’t drive. And you definitely can’t work.”

  “There’s a bus or I can walk. Plus, I broke my right arm. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m left handed.”

  Sue sighed. “You won’t listen to reason, will you?”

  “No.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll get Basil to pick you up on his way into the office in the morning. What time do you leave?”

  “I need to be there by half past seven.”

  “Works fine as he leaves at quarter past. You finish at what time? Three-fifteen, isn’t it?”

  “School finishes then. I don’t leave much before five on a good day. Sometimes it’s not until seven or eight. Hence the reason I don’t have a social life.”

  “Or a boyfriend.” Her sister really was a broken record at times. “And that’s every day?”

  “Oh, yes.” Paiton shovelled in a mouthful of dinner before it got cold.

  “I hadn’t realised. Anyway, don’t get up. I’ll get Basil to pick you up in the morning and you can arrange the lift home with him then.” The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” She was back in a few seconds with a bunch of flowers. “Aren’t they lovely?” She handed Paiton a card and then vanished.

  Paiton read the card. “They’re from the school,” she called. “A get well soon type thing.”

  “Maybe they’re afraid you’ll sue.”

  “Hah. Last time I checked you were Sue,” Paiton shot back, the usual joke making her smile.

  Sue reappeared and deposited the vase on the table. “I have to run. Need to collect Ethan from boys’ group, Josh from football, and Jemima from girls’ group. Busy, busy, busy.” She kissed Paiton’s cheek and rushed out of the door.

  Paiton sighed as the whirlwind that was her sister left the house, slamming the front door behind her. “Don’t get me wrong, Lord,” she began aloud as she preferred to do when she was alone. “I love her to bits. But sometimes she’s a little like a hurricane. Basil must be a saint in disguise to put up with her the way he does.” She ate her dinner and set the tray on the couch beside her.

  Her mind went back to earlier that day. Things were a still a little hazy. Likewise, she had no idea who the good-looking bloke was. If he introduced himself, she didn’t remember. Mr. Blue-eyes-and-stern-face she’d have to call him. But he carried with him an air of authority, and the kids had certainly done as he’d told them to. But who was he?

  Her mobile phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Paiton. How are you doing?” Betty Welsh’s voice filled her ear.

  “Sore, but OK. I’m planning on coming in tomorrow. As much as I’d like to stay home, there’s too much to do.”

  Her friend laughed. “You just want to make the kids feel even guiltier than they do already.”

  “Maybe.” That idea hadn’t crossed her mind, but it was a good one. Might ram home her point about not messing about when her back was turned. “So what did I miss? Liam said something about a staff meeting and whole school assembly before things got totally out of hand.”

  “Yes, we had both, but all anyone talked about all day was you.”

  “Great!” A moan escaped. She hated to be the centre of attention.

  “Oh, it’s not that bad. You’ll be yesterday’s news soon enough.”

  “And tomorrow’s chip wrappers. Start with the staff meeting. Bit unusual to have an unplanned one this early in the term.” Paiton shifted down the couch a little so her feet were resting on the footstool and cradled her arm against her middle. She put the phone on speaker.

  “Yup. It was delayed until lunch time when Liam got back from the hospital so we could have up to date information on how you were. Anyway, we have a new head.”

  “Finally. Bet Tom’s relieved.” Tom Jenkins had been made acting headmaster two terms ago and hated every moment of it. He’d wanted to retire as deputy head last Christmas, but when the previous head left suddenly and under a cloud,
Tom had stepped into the breach to keep the sinking ship steady.

  In Paiton’s mind, it hadn’t worked. The school was in trouble, and it was only a matter of time before they failed an Ofsted inspection and were threatened with closure.

  “Tom is ecstatic. He’s already quit and leaving at the end of term.”

  “So who’s the new head?”

  “His name is Fraser Quirke,” Betty gushed. “And he’s cute. He conducts assembly in a black gown and mortar board, like the old-fashioned teachers. He must be around five ten, five-eleven. Short dark-blond hair, amazing blue eyes, kind of stern looking. Actually, you met him before any of us did.”

  A horrid sinking feeling hit the pit of Paiton’s stomach. “I did?”

  “According to Liam, you called him bossy and then passed out in his arms”

  Paiton closed her eyes, shock ricocheting through her. Heat burned her face and she groaned, more than a little grateful this wasn’t a video call. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no.”

  Betty chuckled. “Oh, yes. Anyway, he introduced himself at the staff meeting. He’s highly qualified, lots of experience, and he teaches art.”

  “A teaching head?” For a moment, she thought she’d misunderstood.

  “Yup. He’s determined to take classes and run the school. He thinks it’ll work better that way.”

  “Should be interesting.” Paiton gasped as her arm knocked against the arm of the couch. “Tell me about the school assembly.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Will be once I’ve taken the pain meds.”

  “Assembly was interesting. Mr. Quirke introduced himself and then lectured everyone on behaviour and how actions have consequences. He also touched on the end of term production. He wants it to be open to the whole school. He’s put sign-up sheets in the main corridor for auditions on Friday.”

  Paiton groaned. “I haven’t even decided what the production is yet. And why the whole school? It’s normally just Year Eleven and goes towards their final grade.”

  “He said it’s the school’s anniversary, so he wants everyone involved somehow. Teachers included.”

  “Makes sense, I guess.” Paiton yanked the hairband from her hair and yawned. “Now I just need to decide what play to tackle.”

  “You need sleep, but before I go, do you want to know how Mr. Quirke handled those kids who pushed you?”

  “A week’s detention probably,” she muttered. The previous head wasn’t big on discipline, nor was Tom.

  “Nope. He suspended them for two weeks. Rumour has it his first thought was expulsion.”

  Paiton sat bolt upright, banging her arm in the process. She clutched it to her chest, hissing in pain. “He what?”

  “You heard me. Sus-pen-ded. He also called the police. They want to talk to you, but Mr. Quirke wants that done in his office. So expect a phone call from him at some point.”

  “Wow.” Stunned didn’t even begin to cover how Paiton felt. Actually, she didn’t know how she felt other than tired and in pain. She yawned again. “Betty, I need to take the meds and go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. ’Night.” She clicked the off button.

  The phone rang again. Unknown caller.

  If this was a cold call, she’d get rid of them quick. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Miss Underwood. This is Fraser Quirke. We met at work this morning.”

  “Yes. I understand you’re the new head teacher.” Her cheeks were scorching already, and he’d only said hello.

  “Yes. I’m calling to see how you are.”

  “Tired and hurting,” she said honestly. “My arm is broken in two places. I have a lump on my head, but I have the most amazing purple cast, so things aren’t as bad as they could have been.”

  “A what colour cast?”

  “Purple. Normally the coloured plaster is reserved for children, but when the hospital staff learned I was a teacher, they let me choose. And I love purple.”

  “I see. Anyway, I suspended the boys responsible for your accident. Would you be able to come into school tomorrow at ten thirty to talk to the police?”

  “That’s a little OTT isn’t it?” The words were out before she could stop them.

  He caught his breath. “OTT? So not only am I bossy, I’m over the top, as well?” He cleared his throat. “Let me rephrase that, Miss Underwood. Report to my office at half past ten tomorrow morning for a police interview. Good night.” The line went dead.

  Paiton tossed the phone to the sofa beside her. “OK. I was wrong. Today did get worse. Way, way worse.” She pushed to her feet.

  Leaving the plate and other dishes where they lay, she headed to bed. She somehow managed to remove her outer clothes. Remembering she had to sleep upright, though not seeing how that was possible, she dragged the pillows into a vague V formation and lowered herself onto the bed. She picked up her notebook and pen. Time to start planning this end of term Christmas Extravaganza thing. A cast of over a thousand wasn’t feasible. Perhaps she’d just plump for an old-fashioned carol concert after all.

  3

  Fraser arrived at work at seven thirty. A light already shone from one of the outer buildings. Whoever it was had arrived earlier than he had. That meant dedication, which was a good thing to have. He set his briefcase down on his office desk and examined the floor plan of the school. The lights were on in the drama department.

  He frowned. Who’d be there at this time of the morning? The cleaners worked in the evenings. Subs never arrived before half past eight, if not slightly later. Fraser strode through the darkened hallways and across the quad. The main door to the drama block was unlocked. He pushed it. “Hello?”

  No answer came.

  He headed down the hallway to where the light angled onto the floor from a classroom. He shoved open the door and stopped dead. Miss Underwood, arm, indeed, in a purple cast and matching sling, was about to climb onto a chair. He coughed. Loudly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Miss Underwood. Do you?”

  The woman jumped. “Oh! You startled me.”

  He crossed the room. “My apologies. I just don’t want you falling and breaking your other arm. Can I help in any way?”

  “Thank you.” Colour tinged her cheeks, making her prettier in this light. “I don’t like asking for help.”

  “No one does. We can all be too stubborn for our own good at times.”

  She nodded, her long hair falling like a waterfall over her shoulders today. “I was trying to get that box file down from the top shelf. I need a…something, well, an anything, actually, for the end of term play. Everything I’ve found so far is too recent or politically incorrect.” She paused. “Although I was seriously considering Snow White and the Seven Vertically Challenged People. Or that version of the Night Before Christmas where the reindeer get replaced by pigs and you can’t give the girls dolls or the boys cars. Only you can’t put pigs in anything these days without offending someone.”

  Fraser did his best not to smile and easily brought down the files for her. “Here you go. What’s wrong with a simple nativity?”

  “Nothing, but the kids all did that in primary school and demand a more complex production—especially if part of it goes towards the Year Eleven final grades. And the normal carol concert just isn’t special enough.”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  She nodded, opening the box file. “I’d like to end the evening with some carols, though. After all, it is Christmas, and we are a church school. Even if most of the children don’t attend anywhere.”

  “That’s why I took the job. Are you a Christian?”

  “Yes, as are most of the staff. I was due to be baptised this weekend, but I can’t see that happening now.” She pointed to the offending arm. “Thank you for getting the files down.”

  “You’re welcome.” He turned to leave, and then glanced back. “My office. Ten thirty.”

  “I won’t forget. Oh, I have something of yours.” She opened her bag and pulled out hi
s tie. “Here. It made things a lot more comfortable yesterday.”

  He smiled and took it. “Thank you. I’m glad it helped.” He folded the tie and slid it into his jacket pocket. “See you later.”

  ~*~

  Paiton leaned against the desk with her good arm as the headmaster left. OK, heart. You can stop pounding and double timing now. Well, at least until I report to his office at half past ten. You suppose he’s serious about this? He’s suspended the kids already; they don’t need arresting, too.

  She slid into her chair and began going through the contents of the final box file. Nothing leapt out at her waving an arm and shouting “This is it. Perform me!” or “Here I am. What about me?” Although it would be nice if it did. Right now, however, she’d settle for a possible or a maybe. But that wasn’t to be either.

  She groaned and tipped everything back into the box. The bell went as she closed the lid, startling her. Was it that time already? The kids trooped into the room in silence, all doing a double take when they saw her sitting behind the desk.

  Paiton held up a hand. “Don’t say a word,” she warned. Once they were seated, she took the register and then handed it to Darius to take to the office.

  A hand went up.

  “Yes, Katie?”

  “Are you all right?”

  She stifled the urge to scowl and instead plumped for a lighthearted tone to her sarcastic response. “Do I look all right?”

  “No, Miss.”

  “My arm is broken. I’ll be in a cast for at least six weeks, possibly more. On top of which I still have no idea what the school production at the end of term will be.”

  “But auditions—”

  “Please raise a hand before speaking, James.” She waited until his arm slowly rose. “Yes?”

  “But Mr. Quirke said that auditions are Friday.”

  “Apparently so.” She glanced around at the class. Another hand rose. “Yes, Sophie?”

  “Why don’t you write one, Miss? Remember those class plays we did in Year Seven just for the fun of it? You’d write it, and we’d act it. Sometimes we’d do it in assembly as well.”