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Janet took deep breaths to try to settle the fluttering in her chest. It didn’t work and her stomach churned as she walked down the long corridor with its smell of dust, disinfectant and polish. The first day of a new term and a class she only knew by reputation. Their last teacher had walked out on them and she was five foot six and weighed over ten stone whereas Janet was five foot two and her weight had never risen above seven and a half stone. She should be accustomed to the difficulties by now but however many years passed the problems were always there and the remedies elusive.

The clatter of voices, like the roar of a football crowd or the collapse of a building reached her ears as she approached the classroom - another deep breath before she opened the door. The noise did not abate. If only she could have slammed the door but these fire protected doors did not slam.

It was a 1950’s school built with as much glass as possible to replace the dark Victorian edifices of the past. No doubt architects had assumed open windows letting in the sun and garden scents would be a great improvement. Unfortunately, modern safety standards insisted on windows having bars and they no longer opened. The room was hot and smelly.

She walked to the front of the class and stood silently, watching. When the noise subsided sufficiently for her to be heard she said, ‘Thank you. Have you finished?’

All eyes turned towards her.

‘Good morning 4C’

There were some muttered ‘Good Mornings,’ before chatter escalated again.

Janet picked up the battered text books, aimed a smile at the front row, ‘Pass these round would you please?’

A tall dark girl leapt to her feet, picked up the books and walked round the class giving them out. Janet considered reproving her she must know there was no need to leave her seat but a flash of memory told her to leave well enough alone. The same request given to a class during her first year of teaching had resulted in the books being passed round and round ad infinitum.

The girl returned to her seat. Janet consulted her class list that the previous teacher had so thoughtfully provided. Of course it was possible they had changed seats but she had to take a chance on that.

‘Thank you, Alex.’

A watch bleeped, someone giggled. Janet’s eyes swept the class settling on a boy in the back row.

‘Right. I take it you haven’t an urgent appointment.’

‘It won’t me.’ Came the inevitable reply.

Janet smiled. ‘Accidents happen and I am sure none of you is so inept that you cannot cope with the simple technology of a watch.’ She just managed to stop herself saying, ‘so thick’ they would have taken that as an insult.

Before she had time to say, ‘Get out your exercise books’ another watch bleeped. This time from the side row. She picked up her letter tray. ‘If any of you are unable to switch of your alarms I will collect all the watches and send them for Mr Murry to deal with.’ Mr Murry was the technician and noted for his ability to dismantle equipment unfortunately his skill did not lie in reassembling it.

‘Anyone want to hand in their watch? No? Right. Can we look at the first question on page five please?’

‘What do you consider Hamlet’s main problem?’

They had studied the text with their previous teacher.

‘He was a mother fucker’ a spotty lad on the back row volunteered to the accompaniment of raucous laughter.

Janet sighed for the days when he could have been sent to wash out his mouth with soap. Unfortunately, Dickensian discipline went out long before her time.

‘Can you substantiate that from the text?’ She asked calmly.

The laughter subsided.

‘What?’ He said wriggling on his seat.

“Has anyone else any suggestions? Preferably ones that can be illustrated from the play.’

‘He was mad wont `e?’ Several voices called out at once.

This was better. 'OK. Now where in the play is Hamlet shown to be mad?’

She glance again at the class list. ‘Damian?’

Damian rolled his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Obvious `init. He saw ghosts and there ain`t no such thing.’

That started a spontaneous class discussion. Not unfortunately on the play but on anecdotal sightings of ghosts.

Janet let it run for a few minutes before her eyes returned to the front row where Alex still stared fixedly at her undermining her confidence and raising her ire. She had experienced all kinds of dumb insolence before but this was new. One sure way of putting down pupils of this calibre was to call on them to read aloud.

‘Right Alex. Read the guide lines please.’

The girl’s pale cheeks turned a fiery red. She hesitated and for a moment Janet thought her request would be defied but Alex stumbled through the reading.

Janet felt an uneasy guilt. The girl had a speech impediment. Nevertheless, her action was justified. Alex’s unremitting stare undermined her authority. She walked to the back of the room putting the class between her and that gaze.

‘So Alex what do you think? Does the ghost scene prove Hamlet to be mad?’

There was no reply. She felt a wave of hostility from the class, caught the words, ‘What you pickin’ on `er for?’

Janet knew she had made a bad move but she couldn’t withdraw the question now. She returned to the front of the class and repeated the question. Alex’s eyes were still fixed upon her like a rabbit in a car’s headlights.

‘No Miss `cos `otchmen saw `em first.’

Speech impediment aside the girl did have a brain between her ears. ‘Right so-’

A raucous wail cut her short. The fire alarm began its ear-splitting screech. The class threw down their books and made for the door. Janet reached it first and stood with her back against it.

‘Line up in an orderly manner,’ she instructed. ‘You must leave everything and proceed quietly to join your tutor group at the front of the building.’ Several pupils had their hands over their ears. “Others were shouting, ‘let us out Miss, it could be a bomb.’

‘Most unlikely,’ Janet replied dryly. She stood back, ‘Walk don’t run.’

Alex was the last to get to her feet she joined on the tail end of the exodus Janet felt like shaking her. Once in the corridor it was impossible to keep tabs on anyone. Pupils converged from all sides, pushing and shoving good humourdly glad of the break. Further down another member of staff shouted ‘Quiet!’ The noise escalated as more pupils joined the melee.

Fire practises had become a regular feature of school life but usually there was a warning. Not always officially but at least on the jungle mail. No warning meant a pupil had set it off for fun or respite or both.

At last the corridors were clear of pupils and the staff stood in the position designated to their tutor group. The secretary emerged with a pile of registers that she handed to the relevant tutor. Now the pupils were reasonably quiet as names were called and checked. Theoretically any child present at registration should be here now unless ‘E’ for exeat had been entered. There were always one or two missing. Either because in the pupils’ terms they had bunked off or they had failed to report to the office before leaving.

Janet’s tutor group were all present. She sent one of them to return the register to the secretary. As the registers were collected some consternation broke out as groups were questioned about pupils who were unaccounted for.

The secretary came over. ‘Alexandra Brown, was she in your lesson?’

‘Yes, why has she taken herself off? Oh well I expect she will turn up.’

The secretary’s eye brows rose, her face registered disgust. ‘This is no laughing matter. The police have received a bomb warning, they are on their way now.’

Janet shrugged. ‘It isn’t the first and I doubt it will be the last.’

‘The police are taking it seriously.’

Really what nonsense. Why should anyone want to bomb a comprehensive school on a council estate in Nottingham?

The group were getting restive,

‘Miss I want to pee.’

‘Miss its break time.’

A fight broke out amongst the next line of pupils and the group broke up in disarray as they crowded round to watch.

There was a loud explosion as a window on the first floor shattered showering the grass verges with glass a pupil screamed and as if it was a signal the girls all began to scream. Cries of it’s a bomb in the lab, echoed round the play ground. Then someone shouted, ‘Alex went to the lab.’

Addressing no one in particular Janet said, ‘Why on earth would she do that?’

‘She alus goes to the lab when somebody upsets her. She’s let sit in the prep room.’ Damian answered 'and you upset her good and proper.’

‘Really! Does she defy all the school rules? She knows she should be outside.’

‘There she is.’ Someone yelled.

Flames could now be clearly seen licking the window frame and behind them the shadow of a girl.

Janet ran towards the door ignoring the cries of ‘Come back. The police will be here any minute.’ She ran along the corridor, took the stone steps two at a time. What benign idiot put a science block up a flight of stairs she asked herself.

She found Alex standing at the lab door with a fire extinguisher in her hand. The acrid smell of smoke took away what breath she had left. The bench under the window was alight. Thank the Lord there were no bottles of solvents on the bench as there had been many years ago, nevertheless it was not a place to linger.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? Put the extinguisher down now and come on.’ She turned away but Alex made no attempt to follow. Impatiently Janet grasped the extinguisher.

‘Come on you stupid bitch.’ She took the girl’s arm and propelled her out of the doorway just as a jet of water hit the window. The fire engines had arrived. The fire was soon under control but no one was allowed back in the building until it had been thoroughly searched.

The police arrived at last and spent a good deal of time talking to the fire officer. At last they were allowed back into school but to tutor rooms rather than to lessons. A whole period had been lost and the police wanted to interview all those who had been in the lab in the period prior to the outbreak of fire.

It is doubtful whether any teaching was done that afternoon. The pupils were excited, speculating as to the culprit. The whole of the science block was sealed off even though the damage was not said to be extensive. Just as Janet was anticipating the end of the day a note came from the head summoning her to the office after school for a meeting with Mrs Brown.

The bell went Janet smiled. No doubt Alex’s mother wanted to thank her for saving her daughter from what could have been a nasty accident. She strode purposefully towards the Head’s office.

She pressed the bell and waited for the light which would summon her to enter. Standing there she was school girl again standing ‘on the mat’ for some misdemeanour. The light flashed and she entered a smile of greeting on her lips.

‘I don’t think you have met Mrs Brown,’ the Head said.

Janet held out her hand which to her astonishment was ignored.

‘Sit.’ The head commanded in a tone that would not have been out of place had he been addressing a dog.

‘Mrs Brown,’ he continued, ‘Has come to complain of your treatment of Alex.’

Janet’s jaw dropped

‘You humiliated her.’ Mrs Brown interrupted.

Janet rounded on her accusing Alex of insubordination with her hostile stares.

‘She was lip reading,’ Mrs Brown said angrily. ‘Alex is profoundly deaf.’

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