‘Shut up, Harmony!’ the rest of the staff chorused in unison before turning their attention back to Rosy.
She looked at them all, this little family of teachers, respected in the community but still a ragbag of everything human: Lynne, loyal to the core, loved by the children and parents alike; Harmony, currently with mouth agape and probably the less said about the better; Amanda, tip-to-toe in pinstripe and the most efficient teacher Rosy had ever worked with; and Sarah, her head cocked to one side like a little bird, glasses halfway down her nose, calm, quiet and with more experience than the rest of them put together. All these women – she was going to have to tell them that their village school, their home-from-home, was hanging by a thread.
‘I had a meeting with Edward Grant today and I have to tell you, there’s a chance we could be closed by next September. Now the key word here is “chance” – it’s not definite but it is probable and the way I see it we have two options. We can let Penmenna School close and the children will be moved into the huge new school they’re building in Roscarrock—’
‘But that’s over ten miles away, they can’t do that!’
‘Yes, Lynne, and that may work in our favour. They’re hoping to get rid of several village schools and pop them all in one larger one, but I’m hoping that, as the school located furthest away, we can use that to give ourselves a fighting chance.’
‘But we were classed as outstanding in almost every area.’ Amanda shot a quick poisonous glance at Harmony as she spoke; Ofsted hadn’t quite understood the relevance of her teachings on the power of the moon. ‘Surely it’s bad politics to close an outstanding school?’
‘Yes, again you’re right and we definitely need to use this fact. But we’re not alone. A couple of the other schools under consideration are also deemed outstanding. We just need to make sure we have the loudest voice!’
‘Well, how do we do that, dear?’
‘Sarah, that is exactly what we need to work out. And we need to start working it out today. We need to show people how important Penmenna School is, to the children and to the community. How we do that in a novel and outstanding way is something we need to decide. Can I assume from what you’ve said that we’re in agreement – we take option two, we stand and we fight?’
She didn’t dare voice her concerns about how Mr Grant had chosen the schools to close, which had very little to do with performance and all to do with his outdated world view. She needed time to research and get her facts straight, but if what she believed was true that also would give them a much stronger chance of winning this battle.
‘Coo-ee! Hope you don’t mind me popping in.’ Marion, resplendent in a very tightly fitted fuchsia dress printed with hummingbirds, popped her head around the door.
Rosy, all geed up from the staff’s positive response to her horrible news, managed to smile. As much as she, and the rest of the team, loathed the woman, she could be a very useful ally. Perhaps she should bring her in on Team Save Our School now? Looking at Lynne shooting the woman looks of pure evil and the other three members of staff who had bowed their heads and were studiously examining the table, she decided against it for the minute. Maybe talk to her about it next week. Yes, that was best.
‘The thing is, Mrs Marksharp—’
‘Marion, please,’ was the inevitable response. Rosy didn’t dare look at Lynne.
‘The thing is, Marion, we really are having to keep this meeting to teaching staff only today. But having said that, I was hoping to see you. Any chance you’re free to come in first thing on Monday?’
‘Yes, yes of course. However, Rosy, you did miss the PTA meeting this afternoon about the Valentine’s disco. Sheila said you were very busy, but I’m afraid we’ve had to make some decisions without you.’ Marion, disappointment seeping out of her, nodded her head slowly as if she were disciplining a child – clearly not a look she practised on her own offspring.
Don’t look at Lynne, don’t look at her!Rosy told herself, mantra-like.
‘So, because I’ve got a very busy weekend with Richard, very busy, I’m afraid it’s fallen on you to cut out the cardboard hearts. We only need five hundred or so, and it’s not as if you have family commitments so I knew you wouldn’t mind.’ And Marion, oblivious to the fury on Lynne’s face, placed a thick wad of red card on the table in front of Rosy. ‘See you on Monday!’
Chapter Ten
Matt was also at work. He had spent most of the day with Pete constructing raised beds and ordering seeds. He loved leafing through catalogues and planning ahead for the season and with this new project it was extra exciting. There was an element of risk, because if he got it wrong it wouldn’t be a case of a grovelling apology but failure broadcast across the nation in a peak viewing slot. However, there was no reason to fail; he knew what he was doing, he could manage soil conditions in the raised beds perfectly and pests, weather and other gardening niggles were exactly what his years of experience were there for. He was going to send Pete home early and give the big seed-storage drawers they had unearthed a bloody good scour so they would be ready, before getting on with his last job of the day. A rather romantic one at that.
His train of thought was interrupted by his phone ringing. Glancing at the screen he saw it was his agent. So much for a quiet morning pottering. He liked his agent, Susie – she was thorough and supportive whilst being loud and jolly good fun at the same time. They had a great relationship and he had found he could be as honest as he liked with her, without having to couch his words. Nothing fazed her, she’d just laugh and find a way to get things done. But a phone call meant that whatever she had to say was bound to involve him doing something, and he really just wanted to get on with this afternoon’s project.
His phone continued to sing. Susie wasn’t going away.
‘Hey, Susie. How’s things?’
‘Fabulous, darling. Thank you for asking. But I’m ringing to talk about you!’ Matt groaned; it was his least favourite subject. ‘Ha, I heard that, you are funny! This is good news, and no, before you ask you don’t need to do anything. Well, apart from say yes, obviously I do need you to say yes.’
‘I need to know what I have to say yes to and then I’m sure I will.’
‘OK, well, great news. I’ve heard from the production company and they’ve decided upon a name for the series.’
‘OK…’ Matt drew the word out. He was fairly sure it would have the word ‘gardening’ in it, and probably ‘Cornwall’ – that seemed to sell most things these days – but he wasn’t that fussed. It was a gardening show, what was the worst they could do?
‘Are you ready? Remember, just say yes!’
That made him nervous. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, they’ve gone with… drum roll…Green-fingered and Gorgeous: The Cornish Edition… Isn’t it fabulous? Women will be tuning in in their thousands and—’
