The Secretary

by Zoe Lea

  I went forward to see what he was looking at.

  ‘What?’ I said as I saw it. ‘That wasn’t there when I put the cakes on the coffee table.’

  We both stared at the small heap of rubbish that was piled high on the worktop right beside my boxes of cakes. Two filthy dishcloths, a stack of used teabags, spilling brown liquid onto the desk and over the side of my Tupperware box, and a small mound of other items of rubbish that were usually saved for the recycling and compost bin. Including empty yogurt pots and a banana skin that was touching the icing of several cupcakes. There were also all kinds of condiments – tomato sauce, salt, vinegar, salad cream – all far too close to the cakes. It looked like a small rubbish tip.

  ‘And then there’s that.’ He pointed over to the counter top by the side of the microwave. The space that was usually reserved for condiments and recycling had been cleared and replaced with a large platter of what looked like cookies. There were only a few left.

  I slowly walked over to them and noted how someone had put out napkins and side plates and gritted my teeth. Had I timed it so badly that my offering had arrived at the same time as someone else’s? Or was it her? Had Janine managed to sabotage this as well?

  ‘She stopped this order from going ahead.’ I waved at the cakes. ‘Her husband, Rob, the one I … ’

  I let my words trail off and Glen nodded.

  ‘He’s chairman of the rugby club, and these were meant to be for a party there, but he changed the policy, so the order was cancelled. And I thought by bringing them in here, that everyone would see them as a peace offering and it might … ’

  I shook my head; my eyes were brimming with tears.

  ‘And it’s the same stupid rugby club that my ex-husband goes to –’ I wiped my face ‘– so now they’ve got him on board as well. After years of only being marginally bothered about being with his son, he’s now threatening to apply for full custody.’

  We were silent a moment, staring at the uneaten cakes. I felt his arm go around my shoulders and had to squeeze my eyes shut so as not to cry.

  ‘Here.’ He led me over to a seat and I went to protest. ‘It’ll be ages before anyone comes in,’ he said. ‘The place is deserted for a good half hour at this time and we can’t let them see you crying over uneaten cake.’

  I watched as he put the lids back on the Tupperware boxes, as he moved them and put them on the counter by the door.

  ‘They’re a right bunch of vipers, aren’t they?’ he asked, sitting down beside me. ‘I thought this kind of stuff only went on in the playground.’

  I gave a small smile. ‘Janine’s dropped the charges against me at least,’ I told him. ‘No more investigation, so my job’s safe if nothing else.’

  He nodded. ‘I know.’

  I paused for a moment. ‘Facebook?’

  He didn’t reply and began to busy himself with making coffee.

  ‘Am I still being discussed on there?’

  He wrinkled up his nose. ‘Not openly. The thread about the “incident” has been deleted, but –’ he shrugged ‘– I don’t know what she’s saying to them all in private messages. Someone put a post up about how understanding and forgiving she was, so I guessed that something had gone on.’

  We were silent for a moment. I took out my phone to see if she’d replied to my text. It had a small tick underneath it and the word ‘Read’ letting me know she’d seen it and read it, but had chosen not to reply.

  ‘And as I’m now teaching year five –’ Glen went on, handing me a hot cup of tea ‘– I’m her daughter’s teacher, so I’ve seen a bit of her already at drop off and pick up.’

  I looked up at him, and he made a gesture with his hands to express why he was in the staffroom and not seeing his class out, and I let out a small smile.

  ‘I take it you don’t get to talk with the teachers here much?’ he asked, coming over to me. ‘Can’t tell them your side of things?’

  ‘I’m talked to, not with,’ I told him. ‘This school is old fashioned, as in, I let them know about the children they teach, pass on messages, tell them who’s absent and why, who’s going to what after-school club, send down letters, make sure everything runs smoothly … ’

  ‘But no one has a real conversation with you?’

  I thought for a moment then shook my head. ‘There’s this weird hierarchy going on,’ I said, ‘like if you’re not teaching staff, then you’re not … ’ I shrugged. ‘And I got this job quick. They were desperate for someone and I know Becca here, the year two teacher. She’s my best mate so she put a good word in and John hired me without consulting –’ I shrugged ‘– the PTA or whoever … ’

  ‘Does the head need to consult the PTA over who is school secretary?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Only I know that a few people had a bit of a problem with me taking this position.’ I felt myself flush a little. ‘In my last proper job –’ I paused ‘– let’s just say it didn’t end well there, and a few people got wind of why I left and thought I wasn’t right to work in the school.’ I took a big breath. ‘But I was proving them wrong. I’m really, really good at this job. I do everything right, keep it all ticking over and now … this.’ I shook my head. ‘I thought I was making friends. I’m a few months off being made permanent, and Sam, that’s my son, he’s having a few difficulties and I thought … ’

  I looked away – it was all too much to explain. I was exhausted suddenly. I pointed to the whiteboard on the wall with its hectic timetable drawn on.

  ‘And everyone here is so busy, even when I do come down to the staffroom, it’s unlikely that the same people will always be in here. Even Becca – I hardly see her in the day. So it’s hard to make proper friends. Especially when I’m at the other end of the school.’

  We both looked at the whiteboard, the schedule of the teachers, the bargaining of break duty, of PPA time. ‘See that?’ I said. ‘That’s how busy they all are. No one in this school has time for coffee, apart from John, the head, and it’s only because I make it for him.’

  Glen got up and walked towards the schedule. He studied it for a moment, the pen hanging by string at the side, the cloth balanced on the top. He ran his finger under the names, the underlined headings, the stars and exclamation points, the strict instructions, the times and pleas.

  ‘Miss Gleason,’ he said, finding her name, ‘she’s the one that teaches your son, isn’t she?’

  I nodded and joined him in front of the whiteboard. Lisa was down as having an hour of planning, preparation and assessment time the next morning, her name written in large red capitals, and underneath in brackets why she was having it and who was covering her class, which seemed was something to do with a music lesson.

  ‘Yep,’ I said with a sigh, ‘she’s Sam’s teacher.’

  ‘What do you think of her?’

  I turned to him, confused by the question.

  ‘Is she any good?’ he asked, and I let out a surprised laugh.

  ‘You’re asking if I think Lisa’s a good teacher?’

  He nodded, and I took a moment. It was an unwritten rule that you never discussed a teacher’s abilities. Unlike my job, which seemed to be under constant scrutiny, no one praised or criticised anyone’s teaching.

  ‘Well, I think she’s … ’

  He raised his eyebrows and I smiled. I was about to say ‘fine’, the habitual reply, and then I hesitated. The truth of it was, she wasn’t a very good teacher. She ignored Sam’s needs, and because I’d threatened her cash that she got over the holidays she was now ignoring me.

  ‘Thought so,’ he said, and took the cloth from the top of the board and wiped her name clean off the board. I let out a shocked gasp.

  ‘You can’t do that!’ I began, but he’d already done it and was looking at me with an amused smile.

  ‘Miss Gleason,’ he said, picking up the pen that was hanging at the side of the board and taking off the top, ‘I learned at the staff meeting is not a very good teacher.’

 
; I looked at him, my mouth hanging open in shock.

  ‘A staff meeting, I think, should concentrate on the children and the education they’re getting. I’ve been to some tedious ones –’ he looked at me and smiled ‘– one where all we discussed was whose job it was to replace the toilet rolls in the staff loo, but the one here? That was something else.’

  ‘You were at the staff meeting?’ I asked, a flush building from the base of my neck.

  He nodded and started to write something on the whiteboard, in capital letters. ‘Never been to one quite like it.’

  I swallowed, my throat tight. ‘But that was before you started, that was Tuesday night … ’

  He turned and looked at me. ‘I got the call from the agency on Tuesday afternoon,’ he said slowly. ‘So I rang up, thought I’d introduce myself. You’d left early, so I spoke to John, who invited me to attend the staff meeting. He said something was going on in the school that I should be made aware of before starting to teach here.’

  I was red. ‘And you came in on Wednesday to have a look at me? To see what all the fuss was about?’

  ‘I came in the next day to see my class –’ he smiled ‘– and to see you. To see what all the fuss was about.’

  I thought back to our first meeting, the way he’d asked what had happened, made me tell him.

  ‘You knew!’ I said. ‘You asked me what the incident was, while all the time you knew exactly what had happened. Why did you … ?’

  ‘I like to make my own mind up,’ he said, turning back to the board. ‘I was told a lot of things at that staff meeting, saw a lot of stuff on Facebook. But I like to work things out for myself.’

  I was silent for a moment, trying to work out what he might have heard about me. What impression he had of me before actually meeting me, and then, him taking the time to come and meet me for himself. To not listen to the gossip and lies, but to meet me on his own terms.

  ‘A situation like yours does funny things,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen it before. Something happens and it shines a light on people. It shows them for who they are, and, unfortunately, a lot of the women who teach here are being shown in a bad light.’ He started to write slowly on the whiteboard, and I let out a little shriek, putting my hand over his to stop him.

  ‘Really,’ I said, ‘you can’t mess with that. If anyone finds out you’ll lose your job.’

  He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders as if he didn’t care.

  ‘The agency won’t have you on their books,’ I went on, trying to convey how serious it was. ‘If they find out you’ve messed with this, you’ll be lucky to get another teaching job.’

  He smiled. ‘I doubt it,’ he said, ‘but it’s nice how much you care and, anyway, I’m only teaching until I start my real job again in a few months. In case you hadn’t realised, teaching really isn’t my vocation.’

  He paused a moment then went on writing, and I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid of what he was doing, while also being totally fascinated. No one I had ever met was like him, comfortable in breaking the rules and actually doing it with a sense of glee.

  ‘See, I think you were brave,’ he went on, ‘and if I were head, I’d tell them all that we look after our own. Stand united. But Miss Gleason here, the woman who teaches your son, who works alongside you, she believes that because of what you did, you should lose your job.’

  I took a slight gasp. Becca hadn’t told me that. ‘A few moaners’ had been her words. She didn’t say that Lisa wanted me fired.

  ‘Lose my job?’ I said quietly. ‘Lisa actually said that?’

  ‘And we both know why that is, don’t we?’

  I stared at him.

  ‘I don’t think it’s anything to do with how competent you are, and I don’t think that by being shocked and apologising you were acting unprofessionally. I think that when a parent attacked you and you didn’t retaliate, or press charges, you were totally in charge of your conduct. So why all the gossip, why would she want to get you out of the picture?’

  I was staring at him dumbfounded. He was so casual about it all, as if he were telling me something trivial, while at the same time doing something so reckless. I glanced towards the closed door, afraid that someone might come in and catch us.

  ‘She actually said that?’ I asked, my heart jumping in my chest. ‘Lisa said she wanted me fired?’

  He nodded slowly. ‘She did. In front of everyone. In front of me, even, the new supply. She was very vocal about it. Very vocal about your son.’

  ‘About Sam?’ My voice was high suddenly, loud. I checked the door again. I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but then, I didn’t think Sam was being discussed in the staff meeting.

  He looked at me, pausing his writing on the board. ‘Isn’t she still a newly qualified teacher, Miss Gleason?’

  I nodded.

  ‘She’s a lot to learn. And she’s only got a contract here for a year, hasn’t she? I learned yesterday that she’s filling in on someone’s leave? So she’ll be looking for a full-time contract come next summer?’

  I slowly nodded again. Lisa had been taken on to replace Pauline, who was off due to illness for a year and would be making a slow return back to teaching next spring. If it all went to plan, and Pauline did return full time, then Lisa would be out of a job at the start of the next school year.

  ‘So if she gets rid of you,’ he went on, ‘then Janine will be her best friend, and not only will she get cash jobs in the holidays, but as Janine is chair of the PTA she’ll help her out here as well. Perhaps, as Janine has contacts with most of the local schools because of her tutoring business, she’ll be able to fix her up with a full-time position somewhere.’ He looked at me. ‘It’s all wrong. The PTA lets anyone who wants to take part become chair, but it shouldn’t work like that. Someone who privately employs the staff here shouldn’t be allowed to be at the head of the PTA, year after year, with all of her friends as vice chair and treasurer and so on. It’s a conflict of interest. She personally benefits from having that position, like she’s running the school along with John. In my opinion, it shouldn’t be allowed.’

  I watched as he wrote Maggie’s name in place of Lisa’s. Maggie, the reception teacher, was now due to have PPA the next morning instead of Lisa. I felt my stomach spin at what he’d done, felt giddy with the sight of it, and I looked towards the door, convinced that we were about to be caught. That John or another teacher would walk in on us and see immediately what Glen had done.

  ‘There,’ he said. ‘Lisa will look at this and think Maggie’s done it, but Maggie, you see –’ he pointed to another part of the board ‘– is doing the morning playground duty and has already asked if anyone can take over.’ He pointed to her written plea underneath and then crossed it out as if it no longer applied and wrote Lisa’s name. ‘So when Maggie sees this, and then Lisa, fifteen minutes will have been lost in confusion. And now, if we do this –’ he went to another part of the board where John had asked for volunteers to attend the residential and I gasped as he wrote Lisa’s name underneath ‘– she’ll also have that to deal with, because how do you un-volunteer?’

  I let out a shocked surprised laugh as he replaced the cap, still glancing every second or two at the door, adrenalin running through my body. Then I looked at the board, knowing that Lisa would be expecting an hour off in the morning, but it had now been taken from her. She’d confront Maggie, who’d deny it, but who would now be expecting her to do the playground duty, and then Maggie would look at the board and wonder if she was in fact owed some PPA time, and it would cause chaos. It felt silly and mischievous and completely wrong. The board was sacred and we were messing with it. It felt deliciously naughty and I was surprised at how good I felt compared to when I first entered the staffroom.

  ‘And I think we’ll take this,’ he said, taking the coffee and teabags out of the cupboard, and my hand went to my mouth. ‘In my book they don’t deserve a hot drink, they’ll have to make do with –’ he lifted out the
herbal teabags someone had left at the back ‘– fennel.’

  I let out a laugh.

  ‘They can all accuse each other of nicking the coffee, all go without their daily dose of caffeine.’

  ‘You can’t take those!’ I began, and he turned to me.

  ‘You’d rather I replace it? Do what, exchange the sugar for salt? The coffee for gravy granules? I’m not that organised, sorry, but I do think it’ll have more effect if we just pinch it.’ He put the jar of coffee and the box of Tetley in one of my Tupperware boxes. I stared at them, knowing I should take them out and put them back, that I should wipe away the destruction that he’d caused on the whiteboard, put it all back to normal, but I did nothing.

  ‘It’s not much,’ he said with a smile. ‘A few names changed on the board, and if anyone guessed it was me I could easily explain it away by saying I’m new – didn’t know how it all worked and I’d misunderstood a conversation I’d had with Maggie. I can see how shocked you are but, honestly Ruth, it’s really not that big a deal.’ He looked at me. ‘But it is enough to cause a bit of disruption and that’s all you need. Because in here –’ he gestured to the staffroom ‘– they’re only focused on themselves.’ He tapped the whiteboard. ‘This board. And their own superiority. And they’re mean. Not eating any of your cakes, that’s mean.’

  I paused, looking at what he’d done to the whiteboard, the empty cupboard, then, after a moment, at him.

  ‘Why?’ I said quietly. ‘Why are you doing this? It’s got nothing to do with you and if they find out that it was you who … ’

  ‘Because I don’t like bullying,’ he said, and smiled. ‘It’s that simple. And your son, Sam, Lisa said he’s being bullied as well?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Well, I can’t do much about that, but I can at least mess up a timetable and cause a bit of trouble in here.’

  ‘But,’ I began.

  ‘What?’ he asked. ‘Don’t you agree that it’s out of order what she did? To talk about you and your son like that was wrong, but what was worse was that no one picked her up on it.’