Read Online In Loco Parentis by Nigel Bird - Free Book Online Page B

can’t think where to start.
    With a smoke is my answer.
    Then I see her head bobbing up the path.
    She walks in with her shiny polished boots and large, leather bag hanging at her shoulder, looking like she might be taking care of professional duties.
    It’s a surprise when she speaks. Her hushed voice sounds full of panic. “He knows.”
    â€œChrist. How the hell...”
    â€œWell, I think he knows.”
    It’s like being punched hard then being given a hand off the ground.
    â€œCan you throw a sickie tomorrow?” she asks.
    It’s a ridiculous proposition. A class full of brand new arrivals in only their second week, there’s no way I can do it.
    Maybe she’s read my thoughts. “I’m coming down with something, too. We could look after each other. Talk things through.”
    â€œTalk?” It’s not something we’ve done a great deal really.
    â€œYes, talk.”
    It’s still insane. “OK.” I can’t believe I said it. “Come over soon as you’ve dropped the kids off.”
    She turns to leave as if all business is taken care of.
    â€œYou sure you’ll be there?” I ask.
    â€œSure,” she says, and she leaves with a bounce in her step.

good call
    Best thing to do if you’re not going in is to call in early.
    Before 8, you’ll usually get Des. If you’re unlucky, you might catch one of the cleaners and that can take a mountain of explaining if the agency has sent someone whose English is in its fledgling stages.
    I smoke a fag as I lean into a mountain of pillows, then smoke another to make sure I get my voice sounding good and rough.
    I do a couple of screams into the duvet to add the right amount of rasp to my throat and dial.
    My heart pounds super fast.
    â€œMorning,” Des says through a mouthful of something.
    â€œDes?”
    â€œThat you Joe?”
    â€œYes.” I’m impressing myself with the sense of frailty I’m offering. Just the right balance between needing sympathy and putting on a brave face. “Can you pass on a message for me. I won’t be in today.”
    â€œNo worries,” he says. He couldn’t give a monkey’s who teaches the kids as long as they don’t leave a mess on the floor at the end or the day or send for the milk at the wrong time. “What should I say you’ve got.”
    â€œSickness and diarrhoea.” Always reckon that nobody would use the word diarrhoea if they didn’t really need to.
    â€œEat anything dodgy?”
    â€œHad a take away from Archie’s on the way home.”
    â€œWhat have I told you about that place?”
    Plenty. “Won’t happen again.” Fact that I’ve proved him right about something makes him feel good. He’ll be so pleased with himself he won’t give my excuse a second thought.
    â€œI’ll quote you on that. Got to go. Delivery.”
    â€œThanks Des.”
    â€œSee you.”
    I get up on the bed, bounce a couple of times. Clench my fists like I’ve just scored the winning goal in the cup final.

Waiting
    9:45. If she doesn’t show soon I’m going to go crazy.
    Half an hour ago I was freshly bathed and in clean underwear. A dab of aftershave and a light breakfast and I was ready for anything.
    Now my skin feels tight. My blood pressure’s up, my face all blotchy. I might not have been ill when I phoned, but I couldn’t do any work the way I’m feeling.
    Flicking through my albums, I find what I need. Bad Manners and something uplifting.
    First track I play is Lorraine.
    Buster sings, ‘And when I find her, I’m gonna’ kill her, and when I find her, I’m gonna’ kill her.’ It’s the first time I’ve really understood what he means.

the girl in the knitted top
    10:45.
    I want to be cross with her, but I’m not. Truth is I’m so delighted she’s here, I’d forgive her anything.
    She