Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
B its of tinsel were beginning to appear around the school, much to the children’s delight. It brightened up an otherwise grey and rainy Monday morning. Dottie, Francis and Hardev and their classmates were working hard on their maths, while Nisha and Chrissie looked over the syllabus to see what they still needed to cover by the time the Christmas holidays rolled in.
“I think we’ve done pretty well so far this term,” said Nisha. “They can be a bit of a handful, but they’re getting on well.”
“Yeah,” agreed Chrissie, following Nisha’s finger down the educational ‘to-do’ list. “They’ve really taken to you, which I think helps hugely.”
Nisha smiled. “Thanks,” she said. But sadness swiftly filled the gap between them. This was a class that might need a new teacher again in a couple of months. “I could turn the job offer down,” she whispered.
“We can’t talk about this here,” said Chrissie, her voice low, knowing that she would never ask Nisha to turn down the opportunity of a lifetime. She couldn’t be that selfish. Never again.
“Ah,” came a decisive voice from the classroom door. “Miss Anderson, if I might have a quick word, please?”
Mrs Hemingway was looming over the class, all the children having turned around to look at her, their eyes wide. “Good morning, Mrs He-ming-way,” they chanted, as they’d been taught to in reception whenever a teacher visited the class.
“And good morning to you all, class,” replied Mrs Hemingway, with her most encouraging smile. The children beamed. She might be a bit of a mystery to the staff team, but the children adored her.
“Excuse me a moment,” said Chrissie to the class. “I’ll be right back.” She couldn’t push down the increase in her heart rate. Mrs Hemingway had never pulled her out of class like this before, and she sensed it heralded something very good, or alternatively, something very bad. She scanned through her memories of the last couple of weeks at school and tried to recall anything she might have done to merit a telling off. Beyond calling Hardev a ‘wally’, which she was fully prepared to defend – mainly because he was being one at the time – she couldn’t think of anything. But her nerves were very much apparent as Mrs Hemingway shut the classroom door behind them and they stood together in the hallway.
“Thank you, Miss Anderson, so sorry to disturb you. Now, I’ll get right to business. I want to offer you a teacher training post here, starting in September next year,” said Mrs Hemingway, all business.
Chrissie gulped. “Really?”
“You seem surprised. You really shouldn’t be,” said the head teacher, patting Chrissie on the shoulder like she was one of the children. “You’ve been an asset to this school ever since you started, and I have absolutely no doubt you will be an exceptional teacher.”
“Thank you,” said Chrissie, aware that while this improved her professional life no end, it added another layer of complication to her personal situation.
“It would of course mean hard work next year – teaching in school and also studying at college for part of the time. Assignments, and the like,” Mrs Hemingway told her. “But I don’t doubt for a moment that you are up to that.”
“I hope so,” said Chrissie, slightly breathless in the moment.
“So,” said the head teacher, “will you accept?”
“Of course!” replied Chrissie, knowing she had even more to think about now than she’d had just a few minutes earlier.
“You and Ms Rajan make quite the team,” said Mrs Hemingway, with a wink. “I’m sure she’ll prove very supportive to you next year, as you teach side by side.”
“Yes,” agreed Chrissie. Nisha obviously hadn’t told Mrs Hemingway about the likelihood of her imminent departure. And it wasn’t Chrissie’s news to share.
Chrissie returned to the classroom, Nisha’s eyes looking quizzically over at hers. She couldn’t say anything know, though.
“I’ll tell you later,” she mouthed, wondering how Nisha would take the news.