Chapter 13 #2
‘But...’ Gemma ran the pad of her finger across the numbers; she’d never been any good at spreadsheets.
She’d got used to the structure of the ones they used in class to track progress, but this.
.. this was different. This seemed too complicated.
Two hundred thousand pounds, though. That was a lot of money.
An awful lot, but... but what if they could find it another way? What if they didn’t have to cut staff?
‘The staff-to-pupil ratio is high. Higher than most primary schools I’ve taught at or led. We have the flexibility.’
She shook her head. ‘No, that’s why it works.
That’s why we get the results we do at the school.
That’s why parents choose to send their kids to us and why the children are happy to come.
Besides, it would mean having to change the classes around, having mixed year groups, which, yes, I know can work really well, but still… No, there’s got to be another way.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘Do you not think I’ve been searching for another answer? I’ve spent the whole week searching through reams of paperwork trying to work out if there’s another way.’
Kneeling up, she leaned her elbows on the coffee table and rubbed her eyes. She needed to think. Lowering her hands, she pushed the folder away. ‘Have you got a piece of paper and a pen?’
‘Yes.’ Reaching behind him, he pulled a pad of paper and a pencil case from a bookshelf and placed them on the coffee table.
‘Thanks.’ Taking a pen from the case, Gemma pulled the paper towards her and scribbled the offending words ￡200,000 in the centre of the blank page.
‘It’s a heck of a lot of money.’
‘I know, but let’s just try. Please. Let’s just mind map all the different ways we might be able to save money.
’ She tapped the end of the pen against her chin and looked across at him.
He looked so drained, and it was obvious he was carrying a huge emotional load because of this, because of the job he’d just walked into, but she wasn’t trying to say he hadn’t done his best, but surely two heads were better than one? ‘It’s worth a try, isn’t it?’
Sighing, he indicated the paper. ‘Go ahead.’
Gemma nodded. ‘What have you got so far? Apart from the staff cuts, I mean.’
‘As I’ve said, we will freeze all paid training, which I know won’t be a popular choice, but...’
‘But training doesn’t have to cost thousands. There’s plenty of free training out there.’ She scribbled freeze training down and drew a thick line from the centre of the mind map to it. ‘Another unpopular idea, but why don’t we cancel the whole school trip to the cinema?’
‘You take the whole school to the cinema? Don’t the parents pay?’
‘No, it’s a treat from the school. We usually hire it out on the last day of the summer term and take the kids up there in a couple of shifts.’
‘And that comes out of the school budget? Not the PTA budget?’ He widened his eyes.
‘I don’t actually know, but as I understand, the PTA funds have all been spent anyway, apart from what we earned today at the school fete.’ She shrugged. She wasn’t one hundred percent certain where the money came from for what, but cutting that trip must help a bit, surely?
‘Yes, write it down then.’ Picking up the folder, he flicked through the pages before pulling a few sheets of paper out and passing them across to Gemma.
‘This is what I have so far. What I thought we could cut down on. Of course, there’s still a two-wage gap between the proposed savings and the deficit. ’
‘Thanks.’ Sticking the pen through her messy bun, she took the pages and scanned them.
There were loads of cuts. Cuts to training and resources as he’d suggested but also things she’d never have thought of, the less obvious such as negotiating better energy deals with companies and re-tendering cleaning contracts.
She looked up at him and caught his eye.
He truly was trying to avoid staffing cuts.
He wasn’t flippantly suggesting tearing people’s lives apart lightly.
‘I’m not the big bad wolf you thought I was, hey?’ He smiled sadly. ‘I am trying my best.’
‘Oh, I...’ He looked so sad, forlorn. He really was taking this personally, wasn’t he? Leaning forward, she reached across the coffee table and placed her hand on his without thinking, surprised by his warmth. A split second later, she pulled it back, horrified at what she’d done. ‘Sorry, I...’
Continuing as though he’d missed their close interaction entirely, he pointed towards the paper she’d been scribbling on. ‘Laptops. I understand they’ve seen better days, but that’s another resource saving. The money for the new ones was ringfenced but we’ll just have to scrap it.’
‘Right, yes, laptops.’ Keeping her eye fixed on the paper, she wrote his suggestion down.
Of course, there’d be uproar. Diane Norton had been promising to replace the laptops for at least three years now, but the staff would understand.
She looked up and caught his eye. ‘I think we should tell everyone. Well, not everyone, but the staff.’
He shook his head firmly. ‘That’s not a good idea. I’ve been in schools in similar situations to this one, and once everyone knows their jobs are on the line, the whole atmosphere of the place changes. It’s not pleasant.’
‘No, I can imagine, but it would help people to understand why these cuts are being made.’ She indicated the papers in front of her.
He had taught and led in schools before then.
She’d been wrong to assume he’d come into this fresh from a business background.
‘Plus, they might also have ideas on how to save money.’
‘No, not yet. If we hit a miracle and figure out how we can save the money without putting anyone out of a job, sure, we’ll tell them, but until then, I’d appreciate this being kept between ourselves.’
‘Okay.’ She didn’t agree, but he was the headteacher and the buck stopped with him. Besides, she’d had no experience of something like this before, and he’d just said he had. She’d just have to believe he knew best.
‘I have a letter going out on Monday to ask if any parents would be interested in before and after-school clubs. If there’s a market for them, I’ll see about setting the provision up.’
‘Oh, that’s a good idea. Sophie, Florrie’s mum, has mentioned how much easier life would be for her if we offered before and after-school clubs.
I bet there are loads of parents who are thinking the same.
’ She smiled as she wrote that down. Sophie would be pleased.
Gemma knew how much she hated relying on other people to look after Florrie when her shift patterns changed.
Maybe some good could come from this whole sorry mess after all.
‘Hopefully.’
‘If the hall can be hired out for kids’ clubs, then what about for other things?
You know, like Pilates lessons or...’ She shrugged.
‘I don’t know, but I’m sure there must be a lot of other clubs operating out of Nettleford-on-the-Wold which would find it easier to have a base in the village rather than traipsing to Nettleford? ’
‘Perhaps.’ He nodded thoughtfully. ‘You might have something there.’
‘Great.’ After adding it to the mind map, she held it up towards him. ‘See, we’ve found loads of savings and ways to raise money already.’
Dragging his hand across his face, he nodded. ‘We’re still a long way off.’
‘Yes, but it’s a start.’ It was, wasn’t it? And that had to count for something. The grumble of her stomach reminded her she’d not eaten that cottage pie, and she locked her eyes on the paper, hoping it hadn’t been loud enough for him to hear.
Pushing himself to standing, he stretched his arms above his head before lowering them again. ‘Right, I’ve not had dinner yet. I was going to get a pizza delivered. Did you want to join me? Hopefully, we’ll strike gold on a full stomach.’
He had heard. She nodded, hoping the fierce warmth spreading across her cheeks wasn’t noticeable. ‘Pizza sounds good.’
Throwing the crust of pizza back in the box, Gemma wiped her hands down the legs of her jeans before leaning forward and plucking the pen from the coffee table.
She felt shattered, and since moving to the sofa, she was fighting the urge to lean back and close her eyes.
Alfie gave a little snore from where he was lying between them, having wedged himself into the small space in the middle of the sofa.
‘Reducing supply staff could be an option?’
Picking up a paper serviette, Jonathan wiped his mouth. ‘If no one gets ill, it could.’
‘True.’ She slumped back against the sofa cushions and flung the pen back onto the coffee table. This was impossible. ‘You’re right. There aren’t a lot of options.’
Looking across at her, Jonathan sighed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so dismissive. You’re right, it might be possible to reduce supply for training purposes and things like that.’
‘Especially if training is being cut back, anyway.’
‘Exactly.’ Twisting to face her, he gave her a small smile. ‘I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have blurted the problem out as I did in the office. It was unprofessional.’
‘Oh, don’t be sorry. Yes, it’s an awful situation, and if I had the choice, I’d have perhaps preferred to live in blissful ignorance until staff were cut, but I’m glad you told me now.
I really am.’ She straightened her back again and retrieved the pen.
‘There’s one thing you should know about me, though. ’
‘Oh yes.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘And what’s that?’
‘I don’t give up easily. I’m not going to roll over and accept this unless it really is the only way forward.
’ Looking across at him, she caught his eye and smiled.
He wasn’t the arrogant person she’d thought he was.
In fact, he was quite sweet. After all, he’d been carrying this problem on his own all week and had been trying his best to think of a way to rectify things which would save the jobs on the line and also the structure of the school.
She wasn’t so sure other new-to-the-school headteachers would be trying quite so hard.
‘Me neither.’ He didn’t look away.
Gemma could feel something had shifted between them.
It felt as though the gap was closing and a surge of electricity was sparking between them.
She leaned forward towards him, watching him mirror her movements.
Freezing, she blinked and jumped up, dropping the pen with a clang onto the coffee table.
The spell broken. What had she been thinking?
She was a teacher, and he was the head. And more importantly, he was faced with the decision of whom to choose to make redundant.
Nothing could happen between them. ‘I should go.’
Looking up at her, Jonathan nodded slowly. ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have presumed...’
‘No, you didn’t presume anything.’ She shook her head firmly. ‘I wanted to... I... We can’t.’
‘Of course.’ He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.
‘If you have to let someone go, then we can’t...’ She waved her hand between them. ‘There can’t be anything to suggest I’m trying to sway your decision.’
He nodded again, the silence in the room deafening.
‘Not that you would. I mean, if we... umm... had kissed, you wouldn’t have just kept me on because of that.
’ She was rambling. She could hear the words coming out of her mouth, but she didn’t have any control over what she was saying.
She shifted on her feet. ‘Ha, you might even sack me because of it. If we broke up and things were uncomfortable between us at school, if...’
He continued to keep silent as she continued.
‘If we... if...’ Shut up, Gemma. Shut up.
She clasped her hands over her mouth. She needed to get out of here.
She was presuming too much. They’d not even kissed, and she was suggesting they start a relationship.
Well, suggesting they don’t. She wasn’t even sure.
Only a few hours earlier, she’d hated him.
Thought he was arrogant, big-headed and that he thought he was better than anyone and everyone else.
How quickly things could change when the truth was out.
She now saw him for who he was: someone desperately trying to save the jobs of people who had been nothing but strangers to him only a few days ago.
He was kind, he was thoughtful, he was..
. She darted forward and grabbed Alfie’s lead from the coffee table, snatching it to her as though if she spent a second closer to him, the excuses would melt away and she’d melt into his arms. Which she was aware was probably what would happen. What she wanted to happen.
‘Go on, Alfie.’ Inching to the edge of the sofa, Jonathan tapped the threadbare carpet, and Alfie forced himself off the sofa and trotted across to Gemma.
Bending down, Gemma quickly attached Alfie’s lead to his collar.
She needed to get out, the atmosphere was stifling, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep herself from marching across the room and falling into his arms if she stayed a moment longer.
What was becoming of her? Before today, she had literally hated the man.
But things had changed and hate wasn’t the word she’d use to describe the way her stomach was churning and her heart was hammering in her chest. In fact, it felt quite the opposite of hate.