‘I would have brought it to your attention on the training days but I didn’t have the news for certain until yesterday afternoon and I wanted to confirm before I said anything.’
This didn’t sound good.
‘Go on, how can I help?’
‘I need to come and tell you that I am due to have tarsometatarsal fusion surgery – the bones in my foot are arthritic as a result of sports injuries when I was younger. I was very sporty and things sometimes got rather competitive. I have been for both steroid and local anaesthetic injections into my foot to see if that helped, but unfortunately neither provided any lasting relief.’
‘Oh, Amanda, I’m sorry. That doesn’t sound very nice.’
‘No, it’s not. It is very painful at the moment and I appreciate I may be a little grouchier than usual.’ Rosy was thankful her professionalism won through at this point, preventing her eyebrows from bouncing through her hairline. ‘However, I shall ensure it doesn’t affect my teaching, except for the time off required for the surgery, which I’m afraid could be anything from twelve weeks to six months. I anticipate being back after twelve weeks – I am not a woman that is happy to admit weakness of any kind…’
‘I wouldn’t define it as weakness. Your health is vitally important and it seems to me that one can’t help being in pain. I know you take a very stoic view, Amanda, and I respect that. However, as well as making sure there is cover for your very necessary time away I think that if you are in pain, which youmust be, I cannot in good conscience allow you to carry on teaching PE. I know you believe in doing so in a very active fashion…’
‘I do. I expect my children to undertake PE properly, not merely throw some beanbags through a hoop.’
Rosy fought to keep the grin off her face; she knew exactly what point Amanda was trying to make. Harmony didn’t believe in competitive sports of any kind and it had been a constant battle to get her to teach it a little more robustly. In fact, addressing the imbalance in PE delivery was one of the top things on Rosy’s to-do list for this term.
‘Absolutely, so I think we need to get cover for you. We can’t have you in a worse state because of your teaching, and we want you back quickly so it makes sense that we get some proper cover for you, right up until, and possibly after, you’re back.’
‘I know when we drew up the action plan for this year I agreed to help you develop a more robust whole-school policy on PE, and I’m happy to do that. But I do appreciate you raising this. I have been concerned about delivering it personally to either my class or in a mentoring capacity to those who need it.’ Amanda arched a brow to make sure her message had gone across. ‘Alice could of course take over that side of the curriculum for me with my class, but I can’t have her out of the classroom doing everybody else. Those children come to me very strong on their PSHE skills. They are, to be fair to her, emotionally intelligent when they leave Harmony’s class, but their physical capabilities are barely developed beyond Class Two.’
‘Yes, I know. The fact that we all have such different contributions to make is why Penmenna turns out such well-rounded children. It is a blow, Amanda, I will admit, that you can’t wholly implement it – you are certainly the most skilled. But you could definitely oversee it still. You’re right, Harmonycan’t do it, and I don’t want to ask Sarah – I’m trying to decrease her load up until retirement, not add to it – so it will have to be you and me or Lynne. And you know she does nothing but curse the day she trained as a teacher whenever she’s put on the sports field. Lynne is excellent in the classroom but no natural athlete. Leave it with me. You and I can work on the Action Plan but I’ll arrange coverage of your lessons and get someone in to do some extra provision. I don’t want to take the teaching assistants away from their current roles. I’ll see if County will help.’
‘OK, thank you. And you’ll have someone to cover me from tomorrow on?’
‘Alice will have to cover you this week, but yes, I’m on it. And keep me posted about anything I can do to support you in the run-up to surgery.’
Amanda nodded curtly and left the office as Rosy gulped and stared at the phone. Ringing County for cover involved calling Edward Grant, a school improvement officer, who Rosy had tangled with earlier in the year. Rather like Gargamel fromThe Smurfs, the man oozed grease, prejudice and (since Rosy opposed him when he had tried to close Penmenna) cold vengeful fury. Wincing, she knew sooner was better than later and pulled up his number.
‘Edward Grant.’
Rosy took a deep breath before speaking into the phone.
‘Hello, Mr Grant. I’m glad I caught you, it’s Rosy Winter here from Penmenna.’
‘Ah, Rosy Winter from Penmenna, what can I helpyouwith?’ Rosy could hear the glee in his tone, almost see him rubbing his hands together, the grease on them making a squelching noise as he did so. Any hope that he might decide to be professional and supportive quickly vanished.
‘I was calling to discuss the provision in place to support us in improving our PE teaching this year. It was on the School Improvement Plan when we submitted it. But our lead teacher is now unable to deliver it, so I was hoping that you could generously rejig the scheduling, perhaps send an Advanced Skilled Teacher earlier than planned?’ Her brow furrowed as she pled her case; she really hated him, but if obsequiousness was needed then she could serve it up, if only for a minute or two.
‘Well, as much as I’d love to help you, Miss Winter…’ squelch, grin, squelch, ‘…I’m afraid all our PE AST’s have been allotted for the year already and Penmenna is not on the list.’ Argh! Edward Grant and his poxy lists. The man was obsessed.
‘It’s the first day of term, Mr Grant. And we were already on the plan for PE improvement. I’m not sure how we could have been overlooked.’
‘Miss Winter, I appreciate that you are used to getting your own way, but in this instance, as I have already said, we cannot help you. Obviously if I could, I would…’ Rosy wished she could screech, ‘Liar!’ down the phone but there was no way he was driving her to unprofessional behaviour, proving his belief that as a woman and especially one under fifty she shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the Senior Management Team of a school let alone be in charge of one. ‘…and perhaps if you had managed your School Improvement Plan properly then this wouldn’t have fallen through the net. I’m afraid that even in the face of, and the expectation of, your ineptitude and lack of professionalism, there is nothing I can do. Nothing at all. You’ll have to find another solution. And fund it out of your existing budget. I am so terribly sorry, Miss Winter…’ he oozed out of the handset, unable to contain the joy in his voice, ‘…I just can’t help you.’
Chapter Six
Sam’s first week had gone by so smoothly that Sylvie couldn’t quite believe her luck. Not only had he been keen to get up and ready super-quick every morning, but he had still been beaming every afternoon when she picked him up. This evening, however, they were heading back to the school as there was a special PTA welcome for all new parents, and even though Sylvie wasn’t particularly involved in the local community she wanted to show support tonight. Pass the message to Sam that she supported his school, and that school was important. Plus, her life had changed so dramatically in the last few months that it was probably time that she got herself a bit more involved with things, maybe make some friends.
She had been a bit of a loner when she was at school here, the odd one, the one the other girls played with when their friends were off school ill for the day. But the truth was, she wasn’t really interested in the other girls’ games. She was quite happy twirling around on the school field or the playground on her own; she would be a fairy queen or a sprite and dance her way through her adventures. Whenever she tried to explain her games to the other girls they would just look at her as if their worst fears were confirmed and wander off.
Then she had moved from infants to juniors and started taking her ballet seriously, eating, sleeping, breathing her dance moves, the stories, watching famous ballerinas from years gone by on a crackly VHS, completely enchanted and only vaguely aware of her mother nipping in and out. Her favourite timeswere those rare moments when her mother would stop, come and scrunch up next to her on the battered old sofa as she watchedSwan Lakefor the millionth time and they would ooh and aah together.
Then when she had won the scholarship and headed off to study ballet in London, she left any potential friends behind, catty girls quick to say she had always been weird and Alice, who she had a tentative friendship with, always away with her family when the holidays came around. In the city she had found her tribe and didn’t mind the absence of that whenever she came back to Penmenna. She was there so rarely she was happy to spend every minute with her mum. Felt she should.
She thought it would be different for Sam though, and wondered what her life would have been like had she had an Ellie, who she could see he was keeping his eyes peeled for as she walked him to Class One. The children were being looked after by a couple of members of staff, whilst the parents were due to be indoctrinated by the terrifying woman in bold prints that Sylvie had seen flitting around the school.
‘Hey!’ Sam had spotted Ellie and flew from his mother’s side, straight to the sand tray where she noticed Alfie and Harry already were. She watched as the two bigger boys stood back and let Sam through to the front before they continued their play. She felt a smile creep on her face; something had certainly shifted there and she was fairly sure it involved the determined little girl who was currently scrunching up her face with concentration as she built sand tower upon sand tower, the three boys around her as devotees.
