by Anna Archer
Manny continued to stare. “You’re indifferent towards me?”
“Wrong word again, sorry. I just…” Eve couldn’t take her eyes away from the piercing stare.
Kitty Tucker, one of the girls who’d previously bemoaned Manny’s arrival, broke the tension. “I think you’re amazing, Manny, and there’s no way you did that tackle deliberately. Could we get a selfie?”
“No phones in class,” said Eve, relieved to have an opportunity to regain control. “Sit down please, Manzana.”
Manny Jones walked with a slight limp towards the empty table at the back. All eyes were tracking her every move. “Why don’t you take a photo then you can all stare at that instead?”
“Can we, Miss Eden?” asked Kitty enthusiastically.
“Of course not. Now turn to face me please. I know I’m not as…” Eve paused, what was she trying to say? What could she say? “…as interesting as our new addition but we’re all equal in this classroom and we all deserve respect.”
“I think you’re interesting,” said Manny. “A young teacher at Ridgecrest. It’s been a while.”
Kitty spoke up again. “Miss Eden was going to say: Good looking. Miss Eden knows she’s not as good looking as you Manny, but could we all look her way anyway.”
“I think she’s good looking,” continued Manny.
The class burst into a roar of whistles.
“I wasn’t going to say that,” said Eve.
“So you don’t think I’m good looking then?” asked Manny.
Another voice rose up from the desks. “You were the face of Nike. Of course you’re good looking.”
The wolf whistles returned.
“Girls,” said Eve, desperately trying to regain control. “This isn’t at all appropriate and this isn’t what we do here at Ridgecrest.”
“We’re an all-girls school, Miss Eden. This goes on all the time.”
“This behaviour. You know the rules and I’m sure you remember them too, Manzana.” Eve couldn’t help but notice that Manny was smiling her way. “You’re in the sixth form now. You need to grow up.”
“I’m fully developed,” said Manny, running a slow finger down her own chest.
“Out,” said Eve, pointing towards the door.
“Sorry, that was too far, I was just having a—”
“Out!” Eve stared as Manny Jones pulled herself up from her desk and walked towards the corridor.
“I was just—”
“Out.” Eve shut the classroom door and turned back to her students. “You lot know better than this. I’ve been your form tutor for the past two years and never had to deal with such ridiculous behaviour.”
“It was her!” said one of the girls, pointing out to the corridor. “I told you she was trouble.”
“Always attention seeking,” said another.
“Enough.” Eve reached for the pile of lined paper on her desk, handing a piece to each student. “A couple of paragraphs please on what you’ve done this summer and what your hopes and aspirations are for the year.”
“Are you going to make her do this too?” asked Kitty.
“Of course,” said Eve. “Manzana Jones is exactly the same as all of you: A student here at Ridgecrest.” Turning to leave the room, Eve nodded at her form. “Work in silence.”
“You think I’m exactly the same as them?” came the querying voice the second Eve shut her classroom door.
Eve stared straight at Manny ready to say yes, but was suddenly unable to form the word in her mouth, instead drawn to the exquisite blue eyes and piercing features. Manzana Jones wasn’t a sixth form student, she was a woman with a wealth of experience in many different fields of life. Sport. Television. PR. Advertising. Women.
Manny continued. “I’m not the same as anyone.”
“I know you’re not,” managed Eve, “but you’re here at Ridgecrest and you need to fit in. You certainly can’t draw attention to yourself with silly comments like that.”
“I was being childish. I’d forgotten how much fun school could be.”
“Teasing teachers?”
“I won’t tease you again, Miss Eden, I promise.”
Eve looked at the glint in her student’s eye. “Listen, Manzana.”
“Manny, please.”
“Manny. You’re clearly a woman of the world. You have stories and experiences far beyond any of those girls in there.”
“That’s why I’d rather be out here with you.”
Eve shook her head. “That’s enough for one day.”
“Are you a woman of the world, Miss Eden? I mean you look very innocent and angelic with your blonde hair and that little white tennis skirt and tight white tennis top, but your glasses are sexy and you’ve got a stature that suggests—”
“I’m a teacher at Ridgecrest and incredibly boring so please treat me as such.”
Manny shrugged. “If that’s what you want?”
“I do,” said Eve. “Now go back inside and let’s start again. I want you to write a couple of paragraphs about your summer and your hopes and aspirations for this coming year.”
“Are you being serious?”
Eve nodded. “Absolutely.”
Chapter Four
“Read it aloud,” said Bonnie from her position on the well-worn staffroom chair she’d laid claim to for the past twenty-five years. “And before you say it’s inappropriate, I’m your mentor and responsible for your professional development.”
“You’re just being nosey,” said Eve.
“Obviously. But I want to check you’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Because you have Manny Jones in your form group and your A-Level PE and A-Level biology classes!”
“She’s fine.”
“So form went well then?”
“It improved.” Eve lifted the piece of writing. “And she worked in silence like the rest of them.”
“Read it.”
“I’m about to.”
“Aloud.”
“You didn’t want me to read any of the others aloud.”
“That’s because the others will be full of: I went to the Maldives with my parents this summer and I hope to work hard this year and get top grades.”
Eve laughed. “Cuba seemed to be the country of choice.”
“Come on. There’s no one else in here. They’re probably all hanging around outside the sixth form common room hoping to get a glance of her.”
“She’s really rather normal,” said Eve.
Bonnie shunted herself upwards in her seat and flapped the sides of her pink floral jacket. “Oh now I know you’re hiding something, Miss Eden! Manny Jones is far from normal. She’s got a fiery spark inside her and a piercing presence to match.”
“She’s simply a sixth form student here at Ridgecrest Academy.”
“Fine, so read out her work.”
Eve lifted the piece of lined paper. “The writing’s very neat.”
“She always was a good student. An only child. Her parents weren’t particularly well off but they put everything into sending her here.”
“Why not a specialist sports school?”
“She never took a real interest in sport until Mrs Howard entered the girls into a football tournament. Manny was spotted by a local team and it all went from there. Zero to hero in five years. Of course Mrs Howard was hailed as the real hero by the school’s board; having one of our students signed to the district and county teams was a real coup, then the big clubs got involved and before we knew it Manny Jones was the youngest woman getting called up to the England first team. She left with great GCSE results and has spent the past two years playing professionally. Meanwhile Mrs Howard’s become the head teacher and that would never have happened in a place like this.”
“Why not?”
“She’s too young! You’re too young! The average age of us dinosaurs left here is over ninety!” Bonnie smiled. “But I’m glad Mrs Howard was promoted because it made
space for you, and you, Miss Eden, are a breath of fresh, innocent, spritely air.”
“Stop being sarcastic.” Eve lifted the piece of paper. “This is probably sarcastic too. She’ll have said she played in a little football tournament over the summer and hopes to make it into the school team this year.”
Bonnie’s big cheeks smiled. “Just read it.”
Eve glanced around the small staffroom. Her colleague was right, no other teacher had decided to come in and relax during this morning break, very strange given the fact it was the first day of term and the small gang of elderly educators were creatures of habit, usually loving a good chinwag about how they were all back in action for another year.
“Come on! The bell’s going to ring in a minute and you’ve got her next for PE. I may need to impart some essential advice based on what she’s written.”
“Fine,” said Eve, nodding. “My summer and future hopes by Manny Jones.”
Bonnie hooted. “Can you believe she’s doing this! This really is karma! Manny Jones back in school!”
“Do you want to hear it, or not?”
“Go.”
Eve continued. “Imagine working your whole life towards something for it to be snatched away in a split second.” She lifted her head. “I don’t think we should read this.”
Bonnie grabbed the piece of paper. “It wasn’t snatched away, she threw it away.”
“Don’t. It’s not appropriate.”
“Stop talking about what’s appropriate. She wrote this as a student in our school, and we’re teachers reading it, as teachers in our school.” Bonnie cleared her throat and spoke loudly. “All of my hopes, dreams and ambitions gone in a moment that I can never take back. An out-of-body experience that still doesn’t seem real.” Bonnie scoffed. “It was two-two in the final! There was one-minute left! Jane Jotta from the USA was on the attack, she passed our defenders and was heading straight towards the box, Manny comes out of nowhere hurtling up behind her and taking her legs from under her, just as she was about to strike on goal. It was a penalty, they scored, we lost the World Cup. There was no snatching away!”
“Isn’t that called a professional foul?”
“It was a horror tackle that tore Manny’s knee ligaments and sent her and Jane Jotta off on stretchers.”
“It sounded like the American was going to score anyway.”
“She’d have missed.”
“Taking us to extra time and penalties. We’re rubbish at penalties.”
“We weren’t given the chance to try, all because Manny blew her cool.” Bonnie shook her head and calmed her voice as she returned to the writing. “That’s what happened this summer. I lost it all. And now? My hopes for the future? I have none. I’ll never hope again. I’ll never dream again. Hopes and dreams are dangerous. They let you believe there’s a future and this summer has taught me there isn’t.” Bonnie laughed. “What a load of old twaddle.”
“At least she’s not denying it or making excuses.”
“Maybe we should sell it to the press!”
Eve took hold of the piece of paper. “She’s clearly in a very vulnerable state.”
“She didn’t sound vulnerable at form time! You said she was obnoxious.”
“I didn’t use that word and it’s obviously a front. I actually feel sorry for her.”
“She lost us the World Cup!”
“Because of a moment of madness. Didn’t you make mistakes when you were eighteen?”
“Not in front of the world I didn’t, and not ones caused by anger and aggression.”
“Was it caused by anger and aggression?”
“Haven’t you seen the playbacks?!”
Eve shrugged. “Regardless, none of that matters now. She’s here to learn.”
“Is she? Or is she here to destroy us like she destroyed—”
“Oh Bonnie, go and bake some cakes, would you?”
“Stop stereotyping us home economics teachers, you sexually ambiguous PE teacher.”
Eve laughed. “What?! That’s a new one! Do you know what that means?”
“That you’re not sure if you like men or women, and that men and women both like you because you’re that stereotypically hot, yet slightly standoffish, PE teacher.”
“No, Bonnie, it means I’m a hermaphrodite.”
“You can’t use that word anymore! Remember the training we had? It’s intersex.”
“I’m not intersex!”
“I never said you were.”
Eve heard the sound of the bell and pushed up her glasses. “Oh thank goodness for that.”
“Don’t let her destroy you,” said Bonnie, still seated.
Eve tutted as she walked to the door. “I’ll be fine.”
Chapter Five
The distance Eve had to travel from the staffroom to her form room wasn’t far. In fact nowhere in the small school required more than an allocated two-minute walk time. Even the sports hall and field were just through the double doors before the canteen. The school’s footprint was probably more in-line with the average-size primary school, but what this secondary had over its newer and larger rivals, was history. It was like walking through the halls of a National Trust house or stumbling into a two-hundred-year-old stately home. The fee-paying parents clearly liked the idea of a traditional education for their offspring but what they got at Ridgecrest Academy was a mixture of modern lessons set in unmodern surroundings. PE for example, a modern examination subject, taught in an old-fashioned form room. Other schools would have dedicated sports science labs and an over-sized flood-lit AstroTurf but Eve had to make-do. It wasn’t that the school couldn’t afford better facilities, just that the ethos of the school didn’t require them. Ridgecrest was certainly no Eton or Harrow but it prided itself on its appearance and its appearance was traditional.
Parents could brag to their family and friends that their children were in private education without their children being forced to learn subjects like Latin or the history of art, having options such as PE and home economics on the table instead. In summary, Eve thought the school was a sort of half-way house; a more prestigious option than the local comprehensive and a slightly easier option than the local grammar. Nice girls with mostly well-meaning parents.
Turning the corner to her classroom, Eve spotted Manny Jones making her way through the door and wondered what her parents’ motivation had originally been when they sent her here seven years ago. There were certainly a higher-proportion of only children at Ridgecrest with families just about able to push-the-boat-out for one daughter, but there were also those flashy parents who simply wanted to show off, but weren’t academic enough themselves to realise that Charterhouse Abbey down the road was the more prestigious private school in the area.
Eve smiled as she entered the classroom. Just five girls had opted for A-Level PE, one of the reasons why the examination results across the school were always so good; teachers could really give the one-on-one help that each student needed. “So,” she said, standing at the front. “Welcome to A-Level PE. Kitty, Jasmine, Dulcie and Ava I obviously know you very well from the past two-years at GCSE. Fantastic results all of you, and Manny I believe you did well a couple of years ago when Mrs Howard taught you for GCSE PE.”
“She did well in all her subjects,” said Kitty, speaking up. “I read a biography on her.”
“I am here,” said Manny.
“Welcome everyone,” continued Eve before handing out a copy of the syllabus. “As you can see, this A-Level is made up of seven parts. Six are classroom based. If you look at the list we have anatomy and physiology, skill acquisition, sport and society, biomechanical movement, sport psychology, and the role of technology in physical activity.” She paused and smiled. “And then what we’re all really here for, the practical side of the A-Level where you’ll be assessed as a performer or a coach in an activity of your choice.” Eve nodded. “Do you all have an initial idea of the sport you might like to be assessed in?”
/> “Hockey,” said Kitty, Jasmine, Dulcie and Ava in unison.
Eve nodded before turning to the newcomer at the back. “And Manny?”
“So I can play the sport or coach the sport?”
“Yes.”
“Swimming then.”
Kitty gasped. “Swimming? You’d get a straight A in football.”
“And we don’t have a pool,” added Jasmine.
“We can use the local pool,” said Eve. “Will you be performing or coaching?”
“Coaching to start with but depending on how my knee is I may change to performing.”
“No problem,” said Eve, “you have plenty of time to decide because the practical assessment’s not until the end of the second year.”
Kitty turned in her seat to look at Manny. “You just want to see us all in our swimming costumes don’t you?”
Manny arched a brow, assessing her classmate. “Ummm, no, you’re okay, thanks.”
“As if she’d want you, Kitty,” said Jasmine. “Miss Eden’s more her age.”
“No I’m not, you are,” said Eve before realising how ridiculous and childish she sounded.
“You’re more my type though,” said Manny. “Beautifully athletic with a nice high ponytail. Did you base your hairstyle on mine? Did you dye it purple over the summer?”
Eve locked eyes with the piercing stare. “I don’t mind a bit of banter, girls, but don’t take it too far.”
“How far is too far?” continued Manny, not dropping the connection.
“Are you here to learn or not?”
“Learn what we look like in our swimming costumes,” muttered Kitty.
“Seriously Kitty, she’s not going to want you,” said Jasmine. “She goes for tall blondes like Miss Eden. You’re about five foot with a Dora the Explorer haircut.”
“At least I’ve not had a boob job.”
Ava spun around in her chair. “Did you get it, Jasmine? Over the summer?”
Jasmine flicked her dark wavy hair and pulled back her shoulders causing the buttons on her white shirt to splay. “Maybe.”