Read Online Wicked! by Jilly Cooper - Free Book Online

between doorways leading to classrooms hung bad portraits of former heads: bearded gentlemen in wing collars or wearing cravats with their hair brushed forward. There were also boards listing head boys and more recent heads. How cross Mike Pitts, skulking at the back, must have felt not to have made it up there.
    Moth-eaten bottle-green velvet curtains flanked the platform, whose only props included a lectern, a few chairs and, to the right, a grand piano. Behind, having remarkably escaped the school vandals, soared a stained-glass window depicting a languid Archangel Michael with his flaming sword raised to kebab an inoffensive little dragon.
    The dragon et moi, thought Janna, unless I catch this mob by the throat. The butterflies in her tummy had grown into blindly crashing pterodactyls as she stood in the wings, trying to concentrate on Phil Pierce’s flattering introduction. Although there were only three hundred children after the register had been taken, there seemed an awful lot of them. Above her, chewing gum and surreptitiously chatting into their mobiles, Years Ten and Eleven hung over the balcony rail. In the body of the hall stood Years Eight and Nine, who’d struggled to their feet when prodded by their various form tutors, who ringed them with arms folded like riot police anticipating trouble.
    With a thud of relief, Janna thought how attractive the children looked with their bright, curious faces: brown, black, yellow, pink, white, deathly pale, a few tanned, but now tinged with glowing ruby, emerald, violet, sapphire and amber by the light streaming through the stained glass. Both Wally and Phil crossed fingers behind their backs as she bounded up on to the platform, wearing an orange builder’s hat.
    ‘Good morning, everyone.’ She beamed round at her astonished audience. ‘I couldn’t decide whether to wear this or a bullet-proof vest, but you all look so friendly, I needn’t have worried, so let’s kick off with one of your favourite songs.’
    Crossing the platform she sat down at the piano and strummed out the introduction to the Larkminster Rovers battle hymn, then, with her sweet, pure voice ringing round the hall, launched into the first verse.
    As she reached the second, Miss Cambola, head of music, ran up the platform steps and, in a rich mezzo, splendid bosom heaving, joined in: ‘“Europe ain’t seen nuffink yet.”’
    After a stunned silence, everyone else joined in, roaring out the chorus to loud whistling, cheering and stamping of feet.
    How at ease she is with the kids, thought Wally as he uncrossed his fingers. And how bonny she looked in her rose suit, with her flaming red curls and her freckles breaking through her make-up.
    After a second encore, Janna shut the piano, bowed, then whipped off her hat and held it out to a smiling Phil Pierce, who dropped in a pound coin to roars of laughter.
    Janna turned to her audience. ‘I’m so pleased to be here.’
    ‘We’re not,’ shouted a voice from the gallery.
    Janna laughed: ‘Give me time.’
    ‘She is very pretty,’ whispered Kylie Rose, ‘and nice.’
    ‘She’s ancient,’ snarled Pearl.
    ‘I was going through your personal files last night,’ continued Janna, ‘and discovered some truly excellent work.’
    She then praised several children who’d done well in exams and in class.
    ‘I particularly want to commend Aysha Khan’s progress in science, and Paris Alvaston’s essays, and Graffi Williams’s artwork.’
    ‘You can see it on walls all over the town,’ shouted a wag.
    ‘I want us to build on these wonderful successes, “rising, rising” like Larkminster Rovers till we get to the top. I’m determined to find what each one of you is good at. Everyone’s a star at something. Never be afraid to ask for help or to pop into my office to tell me your problems. I and the other teachers are here to help.’
    Seeing Cara Sharpe turn green like the witch in Snow White and raising her eyebrows to heaven, Janna