Yes, Miss
shakes her hands out and grins at me. “Time to kick Debussy’s backside right back then?”
“You show him, Isabelle!” I laugh as I settle in to watch and listen to her practice, offering little tips and guidance where needed until our time is up.
She gathers her bag and goes to leave the classroom. Her hand rests on the doorknob as she hesitates for a moment, her back to me. She turns slightly to look at me as she gives a small smile, the earlier look of sadness creeping back in.
“Thanks, Sir. I needed that.” She walks out, restoring some semblance of a spark in my slowly dying teaching soul.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Present Day
Yes, Miss
Chapter 4
James
It’s just another Monday morning in the staff room, a place that has long since lost its appeal. After ten years here, I know these buildings better than my own home. The aroma of toast and coffee hangs in the air as I sit at the far end of the table listening to Daniel Robertson, the maths teacher, boast about taking yet another girl home over the weekend. His voice drones on, recounting his chat up lines, her apparent physical charms, and how much she had simply begged him to take her home and to see him again.
“...She came so hard…” His voice rises in excitement across the table.
Yeah, came to her senses, I bet. I try hard not to laugh at how ridiculous this man is, completely oblivious to the eyerolls being exchanged amongst the other staff
Alexandra Ravensbrook
members and their total disinterest. It was the same tiresome routine.
Daniel has a reputation as a womaniser, one he clearly works hard for, and his sleazy stories never fail to make my stomach churn. Rumours have followed him from his last school about inappropriate behaviour with a couple of female students, and it seemed he left his last job in somewhat of a hurry.
He’s made it clear that he has his sights set on the young PE teacher, Jennifer, much to her clear disgust, and I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. For someone who is apparently so good with women, he has absolutely no idea how to read them. Jennifer does her best to stay out of his way and avoid him. Little does Daniel know, Jennifer has a long-term girlfriend, but it’s amusing to watch him keep trying to impress her.
As he laughs and recounts his 'success,' I feel a familiar sense of disgust, yet an odd feeling of inadequacy washes over me at my current lack of a sex life. My life feels static and monotonous. Ever since the divorce, I’ve lost all passion and motivation for my job. I had always wanted to create an amazing Performing Arts department, help make our college a specialist centre for it. Maybe become head teacher one day. But each passing day has become indistinguishable from the last, a tedious march through an endless parade of classes and meetings. It's like a flame went out inside of me.
Yes, Miss
Outside of work, life is equally dreary. An endless cycle of wake up, work, home, paperwork, sleep. I only manage to get to the club once a month. Even then, I feel like a fish out of water—new and uncertain, still figuring if I can truly fit in or if it is simply not right for me, and I will skulk back to my meaningless existence.
The headteacher, Rebecca, bursts in, snatching me out of my miserable daydreaming. Smartly dressed and undeniably stylish, she exudes an approachable but no-nonsense attitude. Her shoulder-length blonde hair frames her round face, softening her otherwise commanding presence. I like Rebecca and often eat with her at lunch, listening to stories of her grandchildren and dogs. I feel I live vicariously through her. Laura and I had never started a family. At least that was one less complication, but it was a complication I would have welcomed wholeheartedly.
With a quick smile, she launches into a rundown of current student issues and inset day plans—not that anyone has the energy to care or really absorb the information. It will all be sent out by email anyway. She announces to the assembled staff that there are two newly qualified teachers starting today. I feel a knot form in my stomach. One of them will be joining my department, Performing Arts.
Great. Whatever was left of any shred of motivation disappears into thin air. Handholding is sure to be the
Alexandra Ravensbrook
order of the day. I can already envision myself dragging them through the motions, showing where rooms are, going through the curriculum, highlighting students to watch out for. I’m stuck in a cycle of tedium that feels more suffocating as time goes by. Something needs to change. I can’t do another thirty years of this.
Yes, Miss
Chapter 5
Isabelle
I can’t believe it—today is the first day of my new job, but here I am, stuck in traffic. Wonderful. Just what I need, today of all days.
I tap my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, a wave of nostalgia washing over me as I reflect on the past few years since leaving school. It feels like such a short space in time from the moment I packed my bags for university and moved into that tiny dorm room. Just me, a desk, and a wardrobe, with a damp shared bathroom down the hall.
