Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“ D an!” said Nisha, accosting him in the staffroom at lunchtime, Chrissie smirking beside her. “Did you spill the beans?” She pursed her lips at her colleague as he made himself an unfeasibly strong coffee from the kitchen area, and he pulled a confused face in response. “You know what they say,” Nisha continued, “snitches get stitches!”
Holding his coffee in his other hand, his mug declaring ‘I heart Geography’, Dan put his free hand up and backed away. “What have I done?”
Chrissie giggled. “Well, if I may speak for Reggie Kray here, I think you’ll find that we had a visit from the boss this morning taking us to task about Paris.” Dan’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape. “And given that only the three of us knew about it, and neither of us have said anything, it was a process of elimination.”
“Ah,” said Dan, reddening slightly.
“Yes,” said Nisha. “Elementary, dear Watson.” She bumped her elbow with Chrissie’s, who felt a tingle spread from her arm.
“Yes, sorry. You know what I get like when she’s around,” he said.
The three walked to their favoured corner of the staff room. “She scares you,” said Chrissie.
“Yes,” he agreed. “And honestly, if she doesn’t scare you, you’re missing something. That woman has Jedi skills. I don’t even know how I ended up telling her, she just looked at me yesterday after the staff meeting and it all came pouring out.”
Nisha rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t worry,” said Chrissie, patting his arm. “It was ok. We managed to do some quick thinking and get things back on track.”
“Well, Chrissie did,” Nisha pointed out with a half smile. “But we have to come up with the goods – a cast iron plan and some cash. Neither of which we have at present.”
“Oh, well done,” said Dan, “you’re both made of sterner stuff than me, clearly.”
“Clearly,” said Nisha. She grinned. “We’re going to have to have a serious think about how we get this organised, though. We need to sort staffing and everything.”
“I totally believe we can do it,” said Chrissie, a sense of joyous confidence coming over her. “If we really want it to happen, and put our hearts and souls into it, we can.”
“Ah, there’s the hippy we know and love,” replied Nisha, a fond tone in her voice – a tone that felt like it might hold an apology somewhere.
Chrissie laughed. She spoke again. “I’ll put my thinking cap on in the next few days, and then perhaps the three of us can meet up and create a masterplan?”
Dan and Nisha nodded. “Oh,” said Chrissie, “dare I ask what Dottie’s mum wanted?”
“Something tiresome about the PTA. Did you know she’s the chair?” asked Nisha.
Dan piped up. “Philippa? Yes, I think she may have mentioned it. A few hundred times.”
“Ah,” said Nisha, “her reputation goes before her.” She opened her lunchbox and took out a floppy cheese sandwich. “She wanted to talk to me about the school festive fete in November.”
“I mean,” said Dan, “it’s a Christmas fete.”
“Yes,” said Chrissie, “but Philippa is concerned that people of other faiths may be offended by calling it that, so she never calls it that.”
Nisha rolled her eyes, “But we mark Diwali and Eid and Passover as well at the school. It’s a Christmas fete, everyone knows it!” she sighed. “But that’s not what she was talking about. She wants us to do a call-out for stuff to sell at the bring-and-buy stall.”
“She doesn’t want much, does she?” said Dan. “Is she aware that Ofsted could visit us at any time and we have SATs to prepare for?”
“Don’t give her such a hard time,” Chrissie told him. “She’s trying to do what she can for the school. She doesn’t have to worry about Ofsted and SATs, and in reality, the kids shouldn’t be worried about that either, should they?” Nisha and Dan gave sage nods. “Perhaps we have an opportunity here?”
“What do you mean?” asked Nisha.
“She’s chair of the PTA, right?” said Chrissie, furrowing her brow.
“Yes,” said Dan, frowning. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”
“So, she’ll have all the clearances for working with children and vulnerable people, right?”
“Well, maybe,” replied Nisha, suddenly cottoning on.
“Wouldn’t she be just the person to help us in our mission to get Year Four to Paris? She could come too, and help us organise it,” said Chrissie.
“Oh my God, you’re a genius,” said Dan. “She has the organisation skills of an air traffic controller.” He paused and thought for a moment before speaking again. “It would mean we’d have to actually spend time with her, though.”
“She’s not so bad,” said Chrissie. “And it might distract her from her quest to turn the ‘festive’ fete into the event of the season.”
Nisha smiled. She looked pleased with the idea, and gave Chrissie a warm look that made her feel slightly liquid inside. She excused herself to go to the toilet. This was going to have to stop. She couldn’t keep having such strong a physical reaction to Nisha.