Simone #3
Simone sniffed at the bait. Several times she’d walked into the staffroom (and once into her own classroom) and caught her colleagues in the act.
She could almost hear their tongues slam on the metaphorical brakes of their conversation as soon as she’d opened the door.
It hadn’t bothered her much then, but today, Simone found herself curious.
She broke her own rule by turning toward Cillian. “What do they say?”
He inspected his jumper for imaginary lint. “I thought you didn’t gossip.”
“Fine. I don’t want to know.”
After a beat he said, “I, however, do occasionally gossip.” Cillian pointed to Bethany, currently standing by the school gate. “Tell me, colleague to colleague, what’s her deal?”
“Bethany?” Simone shook her head dismissively, keeping one eye on a brewing fight in the corner about who was next going to be goalie. “I believe she’s still struggling with her class.”
“Martha says the same,” Cillian said. “Doesn’t think she’ll last another year.”
“Annoyingly,” Simone said, “Martha is often right.”
“Why are you teaching?” he suddenly asked. “You must make more than enough in your… other line of work.”
“This isn’t an appropriate conversation,” Simone said, “but if you must know, I love teaching; I don’t do it for the money.”
“No one does, but you have less of a reason to,” he said, and for the first time Simone noticed just how soft and leading his Irish accent made his voice. If she wasn’t careful, out of a controlled environment, he could get her to talk without having to try as hard. “Each to their own, I suppose.”
“And why are you here?” she asked. “What school did you come from and why did you leave there for a temporary post? Also, if you’ve always been a teacher, how can you afford my services?”
Cillian frowned as he bit the inside of his cheek. Then he quickly smiled. “Are we on a need-to-know basis, or not?” he asked. As he lifted his mug again, his wedding band glinted under the sun.
Simone was not surprised Cillian was married, but it was the first time she had seen him wear it.
“Yes,” she answered, moments before the bell rang. “Yes, we are.”
Only after Simone told Cillian that they could no longer see each other outside of school did she broach the arrangement she’d had with his predecessor and ask if he’d be willing to keep his classroom available for Tyler during after-school club.
Cillian readily agreed. “I’d be a monster if I didn’t,” he’d said, but Simone speculated he only acquiesced so that she would owe him, in some respect.
Linwood Primary School did not actually have the budget for after-school clubs.
Before Simone joined, clubs were outsourced, meaning instructors were hired to come into the school and supply extracurricular activities.
Parents were grateful for the extra coverage, and teachers were grateful for the same reason, but when budget cuts were announced, the after-school clubs were at the top of the list. So, Simone volunteered her own time and funded everything herself: paints, recycled paper, arts and crafts, snacks and juice.
It was another reason her colleagues didn’t like her very much—once word spread, parents would come to them asking if they were doing the same for their child’s classes, and they would have to say that no, no they were not.
How could Simone afford to contribute her time and money like that, her colleagues were left wondering.
They concluded that she must have affluent parents, which made her even less likeable.
Of course, Simone could not correct the rumors.
In fairness to her fellow teachers, it wasn’t as if they were running home to watch trashy TV as soon as their last student had left the classroom. There were research study papers to read, lesson plans to make, papers to mark, safeguarding issues to file, and performance reviews to prepare for.
Mr. Edwards was currently filling out the mounds of paperwork required to get one of his students a private assessment for dyslexia.
Miss Anderson was battling a bully of a father and attending safeguarding meetings to discuss contacting social services.
Mrs. Bloise was attempting to explain to a mother whose child was failing that no, learning did not end when the child left school property, and that parental involvement is a huge part of school success, not just a way for “teachers to do less work.”
However, if they’d bothered to ask Simone, rather than silently stew, they’d know she had only offered her free time for the benefit of two of her students: Tyler and Anne.
It began when Simone noticed Tyler continually falling asleep in class.
At first, Simone simply did her due diligence and logged each instance into the safeguarding account.
Weeks went by and no further action was taken.
In fact, Tyler’s previous teacher had warned Simone that he was just lazy and every class had at least one of “those.” After some gentle coaxing, Simone discovered that Tyler got little sleep at home due to having to share a room with three siblings in a house with parents whose heated arguments couldn’t always wait until the morning.
When she started her art club—where Simone watched the children quietly paint while listening to the likes of Arlo Parks and Glass Animals—she allowed Tyler to sit at a table on his own, and if he needed to rest his head on his arms and close his eyes for a bit, that was entirely fine.
However, word got out about Simone’s club and the number of attendees suddenly rose from six to nineteen.
Soon, every student had to share a table.
That’s where her agreement with Ms. Cantin (now Mr. O’Connor) would come in.
When Simone knocked on the adjoining door that afternoon, Cillian was waiting on the other side, ready to offer Tyler an empty desk in his classroom.
Since no student was allowed to remain unsupervised, Cillian had to stay in the room too, and whenever she peered through the door window, Simone could see Cillian sitting at his own desk, working, while Tyler rested.
Simone wondered if Cillian would rather be setting off for home on time but decided not to ask. Tyler had a good thing going, and Simone was always surprised to discover what an undisturbed hour of rest could do for a child.