It might have been cramped, but it marked a whole new beginning for me. My flatmates were nice, all fellow trainee teachers, so we could share our war stories from placements, and there was always someone there with a bottle of something alcoholic when it mattered.
With my student loans barely covering my rent and food, I had no choice but to find a part-time job. I started
Alexandra Ravensbrook
working in a small bar just off campus, but I soon realised that the bar manager was a chauvinistic letch, and some of the male customers got a little too hands-on for my comfort. It was too soon to rebuild my confidence after Matt, so I didn’t last long there.
The anxiety became crippling, knowing I had to walk in there each shift, like a lamb walking into a ravenous den of lions. But one of the other bartenders mentioned an advertisement for a local club called Plush. When I found out it was a sex club, I must admit, I hesitated.
Most girls had turned it down because of it being a sex club, but after calling them and speaking to one of the female bar staff, I felt that maybe I had just enough confidence to hold my own there. If not, the old ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ could be used. They had reassured me that security didn’t tolerate any nonsense. Along with security, it was members only, and everyone was vetted. The woman on the phone had been so nice and made me feel like I’d be safe there. It had to be better than getting groped by Drunk Dave every Saturday afternoon.
Walking into that club was like stepping into another world. It was an old, converted warehouse, industrial and spacious in appearance with high ceilings but draped in soft furnishings, making it feel cosy at the same time. The exposed brickwork gave the place character, the soft neon pink and blue lights casting a dreamy glow over everything.
Yes, Miss
The main stage area was always alive with performances and themed nights, while private rooms and play spaces offered a tantalising peek into a different kind of freedom. One that tempted me deep down in my soul. I was mesmerised. The whole place could appear intimidating, but it wasn't. Everyone was so friendly and open; I instantly felt at home.
The manager, Dominic, was a man in his fifties, very polite and respectful with a filthy sense of humour. He treated all the staff like his own family, creating an atmosphere that felt safe and supportive. In many ways, working there helped me confront my own past relationships and build my confidence back up. I grew as a person in that space, discovering so much about who I was. Dominic even supported my teaching placements, helping me swap shifts when I needed time off.
I knew I would miss that crew when I left to come back home, but I still keep in touch with many of them and plan to go back and visit. They have become family. It was all about love, acceptance, and honesty. The public could be so judgemental about the place. Even the regulars became friends, all happy to have a place where they too were accepted and seen for who they were, not demonised and rejected.
Now, as I make my way back to my old high school and sixth form to teach performing arts, I feel like I have come full circle. Working and performing at the club had taught
Alexandra Ravensbrook
me the importance of building drama, of putting on a performance and involving the audience, although I couldn't involve this audience like I had at the club. I loved every moment of it. Being up on stage, feeling their eyes on me and my partner and having the audience feel the tension build. It was the passion, the pleasure and subsequent release, the comedown from the performance, the aftercare and intimacy. Shows were a thing of beauty, and I loved them.
I make my way through the traffic jam and turn down the main road leading to the school. The students in uniform walk, laugh, and mess about in their friend groups as they make their own way into school for the new year. My heart beats faster, the nerves starting to set in.
I think back to my old music teacher—the one who had been so passionate about music and performance, who had inspired me in so many ways. I wonder if he is still around; he always had a charming presence and a way of inspiring students to work hard and achieve more. I assume he’s moved on to bigger and better things. Teachers like Mr. Wentworth went far, and so they should. It’s going to be strange being back without him there. The music room will feel all the quieter without him. But I suppose someone else will have replaced him, just like I have replaced Miss Walsh.
Leaving uni and moving back home felt strange at first. I’m not friends with anyone here anymore. My small
Yes, Miss
handful of friends have all moved away and moved on in life, and I know I will have to start afresh. A whole new community, new faces, and a new club. I had seen a few familiar faces in town, and Mum and Dad are still here; not that I’d be calling around to see them any time soon.
I finally reach the school car park and find a space to park at the far back. I glance at the clock on the dashboard, my heart dropping and the nostalgic trip down memory lane vanishes as I come to the realisation that I’m late on my first day.
What a great first impression, Isabelle.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Chapter 6
James
Being late is not a great start on your first day.
Just my luck. The office had passed along a message that she was stuck in traffic.
I sit back in my chair at the table in the conference room, drinking my tea. My knee starts to bounce. I don't have time for this. The department meeting is supposed to kick off at nine-thirty, but there is still no sign of the newly qualified teacher. My annoyance begins to grow. It’s not the best start to a career is it? I’m to be this teacher’s manager, and they can’t even be bothered to be on time for their first day. I stir my tea, silently thanking the office assistant who had brought a tray in, hoping the new starter will arrive before it goes cold.
Just then, the door bangs open, and a flustered woman stumbles in, fumbling with her coat, keys, and bag. I assume this is her.
Yes, Miss
She looks up at me, and my jaw drops open.
