Read Online 05 Please Sir! by Jack Sheffield - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jack Sheffield
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from her Austin Metro.
‘Morning, Jack. I’ve brought Resusci Annie in, as promised, for the staff First Aid training.’ Sue, a tall, attractive blonde, was a staff nurse at the hospital in York and helped out as our school nurse. She had volunteered to lead a staff training session in mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on Thursday evening.
‘Resusci-who?’ I asked.
She glanced at her watch. ‘Come on, Jack,’ she said with a grin, ‘I’ll show you quickly.’
I carried the box into the staff-room and put it on the coffee table. Everyone gathered round as Sue removed the lid.
‘Goodness me!’ exclaimed Vera and stepped back in amazement.
‘Wow!’ said Jo.
‘Impressive,’ said Sally.
Revealed was the rubber head and torso of a vivacious blonde-haired naked woman. Her blue eyes stared back at us.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘This is the model that my nurses use to practise their mouth-to-mouth resuscitation,’ said Sue in a matter-of-fact voice. We all stared at Resusci Annie and couldn’t help but notice that not only did she have breasts that would have done credit to a finalist in Miss World but her dark rubber nipples stood out like chapel hatpegs.
‘She’s a big girl,’ said Sally cautiously.
Sue laughed. ‘Yes. I think the designer based it on his girlfriend.’
‘Oh dear,’ was all Vera could say.
‘Anyway, feel free to practise,’ said Sue. ‘The instructions are inside the lid. Well, must be off. See you later at the Harvest Festival,’ and with that she hurried out.
Jo picked up the lid, took it to the corner of the staff-room and found the instruction booklet. ‘I think my Dan did his police training on something like this,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘… but it wasn’t quite so glamorous.’
Sally chuckled and Anne gave me a knowing look. Meanwhile Vera, flushed with embarrassment, walked briskly back to the office to make copies of the Harvest Festival order of service from her carefully typed Gestetner master sheet. She smoothed it carefully on to the inky drum of the duplicating machine, peeled off the backing sheet and wound the handle to produce enough copies for parents and visitors, including, of course, the bishop. ‘Today must be perfect ,’ she kept repeating to herself with every turn of the handle.
Shortly before morning break Theresa Ackroyd announced, ‘Mr Ramsbottom’s ’ere,’ although she didn’t appear to have raised her head from her School Mathematics Project workcard concerning the area of carpet needed to fit a large bedroom. A tractor and trailer pulled up in the car park and I walked out to meet one of Ragley’s more colourful characters.
Derek ‘Deke’ Ramsbottom, local farmworker, part-time snowplough driver, singer of cowboy songs and father of Shane, Clint and Wayne, removed his Stetson hat. ‘’Owdy, Mr Sheffield.’
‘Morning, Deke. Thanks for coming.’
‘Ah’ve brought all t’trestle tables on me trailer,’ he said while absent-mindedly polishing the sheriff’s badge on his leather waistcoat. ‘Ah’ll stack ’em in t’entrance, shall ah?’ Deke’s support for the school was legendary.
‘Thanks, Deke,’ I said. ‘We’re all grateful.’
‘No problem, Mr Sheffield. Owt for t’school is fine by me,’ and he wandered back to his trailer, copying the distinctive walk of his hero, the late John Wayne. Once again, I was touched by the affection the villagers showed for their school.
After lunch, on the playground, life went on as normal. Heathcliffe Earnshaw, Ragley’s undisputed conker champion, had been challenged to a conker match by a new girl who had just arrived in my class, ten-year-old Alice Baxter from Doncaster.
‘Come on, then,’ said the ever-confident Heathcliffe. Rarely, if ever, did he play with girls as he didn’t see much point in them. However, there was something different about Alice: she wasn’t like other girls who played with Tressy dolls and bought Donny Osmond records. She seemed to
‘Morning, Jack. I’ve brought Resusci Annie in, as promised, for the staff First Aid training.’ Sue, a tall, attractive blonde, was a staff nurse at the hospital in York and helped out as our school nurse. She had volunteered to lead a staff training session in mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on Thursday evening.
‘Resusci-who?’ I asked.
She glanced at her watch. ‘Come on, Jack,’ she said with a grin, ‘I’ll show you quickly.’
I carried the box into the staff-room and put it on the coffee table. Everyone gathered round as Sue removed the lid.
‘Goodness me!’ exclaimed Vera and stepped back in amazement.
‘Wow!’ said Jo.
‘Impressive,’ said Sally.
Revealed was the rubber head and torso of a vivacious blonde-haired naked woman. Her blue eyes stared back at us.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘This is the model that my nurses use to practise their mouth-to-mouth resuscitation,’ said Sue in a matter-of-fact voice. We all stared at Resusci Annie and couldn’t help but notice that not only did she have breasts that would have done credit to a finalist in Miss World but her dark rubber nipples stood out like chapel hatpegs.
‘She’s a big girl,’ said Sally cautiously.
Sue laughed. ‘Yes. I think the designer based it on his girlfriend.’
‘Oh dear,’ was all Vera could say.
‘Anyway, feel free to practise,’ said Sue. ‘The instructions are inside the lid. Well, must be off. See you later at the Harvest Festival,’ and with that she hurried out.
Jo picked up the lid, took it to the corner of the staff-room and found the instruction booklet. ‘I think my Dan did his police training on something like this,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘… but it wasn’t quite so glamorous.’
Sally chuckled and Anne gave me a knowing look. Meanwhile Vera, flushed with embarrassment, walked briskly back to the office to make copies of the Harvest Festival order of service from her carefully typed Gestetner master sheet. She smoothed it carefully on to the inky drum of the duplicating machine, peeled off the backing sheet and wound the handle to produce enough copies for parents and visitors, including, of course, the bishop. ‘Today must be perfect ,’ she kept repeating to herself with every turn of the handle.
Shortly before morning break Theresa Ackroyd announced, ‘Mr Ramsbottom’s ’ere,’ although she didn’t appear to have raised her head from her School Mathematics Project workcard concerning the area of carpet needed to fit a large bedroom. A tractor and trailer pulled up in the car park and I walked out to meet one of Ragley’s more colourful characters.
Derek ‘Deke’ Ramsbottom, local farmworker, part-time snowplough driver, singer of cowboy songs and father of Shane, Clint and Wayne, removed his Stetson hat. ‘’Owdy, Mr Sheffield.’
‘Morning, Deke. Thanks for coming.’
‘Ah’ve brought all t’trestle tables on me trailer,’ he said while absent-mindedly polishing the sheriff’s badge on his leather waistcoat. ‘Ah’ll stack ’em in t’entrance, shall ah?’ Deke’s support for the school was legendary.
‘Thanks, Deke,’ I said. ‘We’re all grateful.’
‘No problem, Mr Sheffield. Owt for t’school is fine by me,’ and he wandered back to his trailer, copying the distinctive walk of his hero, the late John Wayne. Once again, I was touched by the affection the villagers showed for their school.
After lunch, on the playground, life went on as normal. Heathcliffe Earnshaw, Ragley’s undisputed conker champion, had been challenged to a conker match by a new girl who had just arrived in my class, ten-year-old Alice Baxter from Doncaster.
‘Come on, then,’ said the ever-confident Heathcliffe. Rarely, if ever, did he play with girls as he didn’t see much point in them. However, there was something different about Alice: she wasn’t like other girls who played with Tressy dolls and bought Donny Osmond records. She seemed to
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