Between the Prison and the Sewage Works by Maryline Suchley (snow like ashes txt) 📖

with. The Nigerian woman was a regular visitor to the school and her dulcet tones were frequently heard trying to control the students. Mara felt sorry for her because she had heard the pupils referring to her as ‘that religious nut’ and discussing different methods of winding her up. She would sit in the staffroom at lunchtime looking vacantly at her hands, like a patient in a lunatic asylum.

What a way to earn a living, Mara thought, as she watched Joyce give her the work for the classes. Talk about mental torture!

Mara spent most of the week preoccupied with the lesson observation she had on Friday. She had however noticed that Daniel didn’t seem to be hanging around the prep room much, and when she had seen him he was glued to the computer in the workroom. Mara had gone out of her way to be extra nice to him this week because she wanted a lift to the train station on Friday, which he happily agreed to do.

‘That’s the last time I do an experiment with that bunch of misfits, thank God it’s Friday!’

Mara complained as she tidied up her classroom from the mini riot that occurred before lunch.

The bell rang signalling the end of lunch. Feeling nervous, she reassured herself that she had done all she could possibly do for her appraisal.

The class came in as expected; excitable, noisy and hanging out for the holidays. She did her best to get order at once but to no avail.

The door opened. Alan armed with a clipboard and pen marched to the back of classroom. Sat down without acknowledging Mara or any of the students and wrote something on his paper. The sounds of the students excited chattering faded quickly into quiet, as they tried to understand what the headmaster was doing in their lesson.

Mara taught the lesson with what she considered good classroom practice: plenty of variety, repetition, differentiation and tasks that catered for all abilities in the class. A positive to the head being in the room was that behaviour was not an issue. Feeling pleased Mara confidently finished the lesson; it was a good period there was no way she could fail that assessment of her teaching abilities. The bell rang, Mara dismissed the class and the students left promptly and calmly. He waited for the room to empty and then informed her he would write up the lesson observation and arrange a meeting after half term.

‘It’s over!’ she whispered with a huge sense of relief.

It was now time to focus on the holidays; she was going back to Somerset for the week long break. Mara had brought all her luggage with her and was leaving directly after school, arranging with Daniel to get a lift to Lewisham station, where she would take the tube to Paddington and catch the Five twenty to Taunton.JHe

Daniel was ready to go straight away and had called into her classroom.

‘All set?’

‘Yep.’

‘How was your observation?’ he asked.

‘Good; I think!’

Daniel appeared to be in high spirits chatting cheerfully throughout the journey, albeit about his nights out with his mate James.

The trip home was straightforward and uneventful; the train to the South West however was jam-packed, smelly, clammy and noisy. Nevertheless she did have a few trashy magazines to read and a CD Walkman to pass away the time. As the train pulled into Taunton Station Mara felt a wave of elation; she was home with the hubbub of London and the stresses of the school behind her.

She spent the week catching up with friends, eating her mother’s cooking and drinking her father’s home made Cider.

Nevertheless it couldn’t last. She had to go back. The return journey to London on Sunday was dismal; the weather grey and wet. When she reached her flat it was cold and damp. The message machine flashed. Mat had left three messages. She had almost forgotten about him, with the exception of occasional pangs of guilt when she was caught off guard.

All Mara could do was drown her sorrows in wine. Not only did she have a bad case of the Sunday night blues, but she also knew she had to do something about Mat before things got too complicated.

 

Chapter Six

6

‘Brothers and sisters rejoice in the faith of God. Hallelujah.’

‘HALLELUJAH. PRAISE THE LORD,’ replied the parishioners.

‘Come on up here my child. Bless you. What was your aliment before the Lord healed you?’ cried the pastor.

‘I had the devil in me – he made me eat, eat until I was so big I couldn’t walk properly,’ the woman wailed.

‘God came to you and said I’m going to help you rid yourself of your demon. Didn’t he my child,’ howled the Pastor excitedly.

‘The Lord has helped me loose 65 Kilo’s,’ said the woman simultaneously laughing and crying.

The crowd clapped.

‘Praise the Lord for he has shown her the path. Bless you my child. You too can be helped by the Lord, join our Parish now. Phone to order our starter packs, only three easy payments,’ bellowed Pastor Cosmos.

‘I wonder if I get one of those starter packs will it get me out of that shit pit they call an educational facility?’ Mara complained as she switched off the radio.

The ordeal of going into school was even more miserable than usual; the dismal weather and the approach of winter meant it was dark in the morning.

‘Only seven more weeks until Christmas,’ she whimpered, stepping off the bus and staring at the school gates. Her legs felt heavy; she didn’t want to go in. Perhaps I could do a runner? Or fake a mental illness and take six months off, although you’d have to be nuts to work here in the first place!

The silent staffroom felt unwelcome and the today board besieged with notices. Mara contemptuously read the messages.

Staff meeting after school – everyone expected.

Great that always a barrel of laughs!

Joyce Crest away for two weeks – hip replacements. Refer all lesson cover to J.D.

Good, annoying old bat.

4 new students in year 8 – unable to speak English – tolerance required.

Tolerance, you need a truck load of it in this place!

TRAF forms to be returned ASAP.

DIC assessments to J.D by Thursday.

What the hell is a TRAF? And the only DIC I know of is Daniel.

Supply teachers are becoming increasingly harder to get. Try not to be sick.

How can you try not to be sick?

Richey Simmons back in Juvenile detention until further notice.

I wonder what for this time?

Mara submissively looked in her pigeon hole and picked up a white envelope with a post it note stuck to the front with the message, lesson observation enclosed, will arrange a meeting later in the week. Alan.

She opened the envelope and began reading the contents.

 

Lesson Observation Mara Thompson

Year 10 science.

Subject knowledge acceptable; although a few basic errors picked up by more able students in the class.

What? There’s no one able it that class! She blurted to herself.

Board presentation average.

Only 20% of students were engaged in the subject matter.

That’s 20% more than usual!

The variety of teaching methods used was limited.

Students were not tested on learning through questioning.

Overall a poor standard of teaching with no inclusion of practical work which is what would be expected from a practical subject.

They can’t do practical work! They’re a safety hazard!

Miss Thompson will need to work of the following areas of her teaching practice.

Using a variety of teaching aids.

Differentiating for both low and high ability students in the class.

Improving subject knowledge.

Oh my God. This is worse than awful. Most of it is a crock of crap. There’s no way I was that bad. With observations like this I’m going to fail my probationary year and I’ll have to do it all again. I don’t think I can face another year in teaching! What am I going to do? She reflected looking bewildered at the sheet of paper, which she was now reading again to see if the contents had changed.

Mara’s eyes were starting to well up and a knot was forming at the back of her throat. She made a quick dash for her classroom so she could hide before anyone saw her; especially Daniel. She still had fifty or so minutes before morning briefing.

In the sanctuary of her classroom distress was soon taken over by rage.

‘Bastard,’ she snivelled as she dried her eyes with a tissue.

‘I wonder?’

Mara walked quickly back to the staffroom and in to the senior management office area. She tried Alan’s office door but it was locked. The anger she was feeling towards Alan had given her a mad shot of bravery.

The secretaries had not yet arrived, but their work area was open plan, so she could look around the desks. Carefully rummaging through draws and on desk tops she found nothing glaringly incriminating. A few faxes had come in over the weekend and lay in the fax tray. One was from a school in France requesting dates for the cultural exchange programme, a second fax was from a teaching agency called A1 teachers listing how many supply teachers were available to work in different subject areas, a third was from a software company outlining filter rejection programmes for the computers.

A loud rustle made Mara’s heart leap. She quickly put down the faxes and raced over towards the entrance that linked the workroom with the offices. She tried to look casual walking back into the staffroom, although the sweat on her nose and adrenaline breathlessness would have been a giveaway that she was up to something. The noise she heard was Daniel looking in his pigeon hole.

Thank God. She thought feeling relieved as her heart started to return to its normal rhythm.

‘Hi Daniel, have a good holiday?’

‘Yeah, what about you darling?’

‘Great, but I can’t say I’m pleased to be back.’

‘Excellent. He’s written me a fantastic lesson observation,’ Daniel blurted.

‘I didn’t realise you had one done too?’

‘Yeah, on the Wednesday before we broke up for hols.’

‘You kept that quiet.’

‘It slipped my mind, besides it’s not that important, it’s pretty easy to pass your probationary year, just look at the crap that’s out there teaching. How did yours go?’ he asked now throwing an empty drink can into the Manuelle’s pigeon hole.

‘Good,’ she lied; it would have been far too horrendous to tell anyone the truth, especially him.

The morning briefing was a little longer than usual. Not because Jim had more to say, but the petite secretary was doing Joyce’s board writing job and was having great difficulty both writing legibly and reaching the top half of the white board. Jim had to keep stopping to allow her to catch up otherwise she would show her displeasure with tuts and sighs then shake her head.

‘Finally, no students should be out of class during lesson time without a note.’

As Mara left the staffroom she saw Mat looking a little lost in the corner.

I’ll have to go and speak to him. She thought.

‘Hi Mat. Have a good holiday?’

‘Yes thanks. Did you?’

Mara felt her heart sink; he looked like a puppy happy that its owner had given it a little attention.

‘Great. Better go, I’ll catch up with you later,’ she said.

With a little less guilt she walked back to the classroom for the start of period one.

By now Mara couldn’t care less what the kids were learning all she wanted to do was get through the day in the easiest way possible. Project type work was always good to ease the pain for a few weeks. She had booked the library and the computer room for the next three weeks for year ten. They had been given a set of criteria to research. Period one and two had been assigned for investigation in the library. The class were extremely happy with this news because it meant they didn’t have to do much work, all they had to do was sit with a pile of books in front of them pretending to research, while quietly chatting. They then could do all their so called work on the computer by