The Microcosm

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The Microcosm Page 5

by Maureen Duffy


  ‘I wanted to see you about Sandra Filchard. She’s told me her version but as I pointed out to her there are two sides to every story.’

  Careful. Never know where you are with the old girl, whose side she’s going to be on. Covering her tracks all the time. Fear of the parents, the authorities. Impartial. Scared like the rest of us.

  ‘I don’t know what she told you Miss Samuels so I don’t really know what you’re asking me.’

  Oh Mary, Mary so contrary, for God’s sake don’t bluster. Looks guilty. Play it cool.

  ‘Just tell me what happened.’

  ‘We were doing group work. I was with the group by the horse. There was only about five minutes to go before we put the apparatus away. Sandra came and asked me if she could sit out because she didn’t feel well.’

  ‘And what did you say?’

  ‘I said because there was so little time left it wouldn’t hurt her to carry on till I blew the whistle.’

  ‘You said: “Since you’ve left it so late you can carry on. You should have thought of it a little earlier”.’

  ‘More or less.’

  ‘Did you know she’d had a fall?’

  ‘Not then, no. The silly child didn’t come and tell me when it happened.’

  You think you’re saved. No, no. I didn’t know. But there’ll be an answer.

  ‘Are the children not in the habit of reporting such things straight away?’

  ‘Well, as a rule one of the others would have told me.’

  The form busybody. ‘Please Miss, ’lizbeth’s broke her leg.’

  ‘But 4b and I don’t get on too well.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Time to step in, stick out your neck St. Steven, ready for the stones.

  ‘I don’t think they’ve ever settled down to the change in staff. I’d had them ever since they’ve been in the school and you know how difficult children are over someone new.’

  ‘I take them for civics. I find them quite bright and co-operative. They have some interesting ideas once you get them to really talk to you. So you didn’t realise there’d been an accident?’

  ‘Not until their netball period when she wasn’t there.’

  ‘Did you notice that she wasn’t there?’

  ‘Well you see she’s the form netball captain so of course it was rather obvious.’

  ‘Yes, she’s always been rather interested in games, I believe. So you asked why she was away?’

  ‘Oh they told me quickly enough.’

  ‘Jane told you I suppose. They’re friends, aren’t they? What exactly did she say?’

  ‘That she’d landed awkwardly and the catcher hadn’t got a proper hold on her and she’d fallen back and hit her head.’

  ‘Who was the catcher?’

  ‘Wendy Cope.’

  ‘I expect she was gossiping to someone and not doing her job.’

  ‘She’s always been a bit of a scatterbrain.’

  ‘Did you enter it in the book when you heard about it?’

  ‘I thought it was too late.’

  ‘Oh no. Had you done that with an explanatory note on why the entry was late you would have still been covered. As it is the doctor says she has mild concussion and I hadn’t any official record to refer to to find out how far we were responsible. I hope her mother doesn’t think of negligence. She’s an only child and mothers sometimes get rather upset over their one chick. You will remember in future. Every tiny mishap must go down. I’m sorry it’s taken so long. This is the time you usually have for a departmental meeting isn’t it Miss Stevens?’

  ‘It is the only time we have off together to talk things over.’

  ‘I noticed the Blue Games Cupboard was very untidy this morning as I came along the corridor. Perhaps you could get some of the children to help you tidy it in the dinner hour.’

  And she will pass by on the other side, accidentally of course, just to see if it’s being done.

  ‘That’s all we can do then, Miss Barter. Hope that the parents don’t want to make a fuss. Miss Stevens if you could spare me a minute or two more.’

  As if one had any choice. My turn, No, no. Not there. Judith, that’s who she reminds me of. That strange bloodless woman in the Old Testament, using her beauty to chop a man’s head off. Holy chastity. Getting the poor bugger impotent with drink and then chop. And that song she sings at the end; all full of herself. Pride, that’s all it is. Wait patiently with a polite smile fixed in position, hung on your ears like a pair of glasses.

  ‘Miss Barter’s relationships with her forms worry me a little. Of course as you say, children do sometimes take some time to adjust to someone new, particularly when they’ve been used to a lighter hand on the rein, but I do feel perhaps she’s inclined to take some of the pleasure out of what is, after all, meant to be enjoyed. The children obviously enjoy your lessons very much. Sometimes I wonder if this is at the expense of real hard work. They must realise that to obtain any standard there must be some effort in their play. The children like you very much. You are what I would call a personality teacher. This isn’t really a bad thing in many ways but it does mean I think that you are tempted to take life a little easy. You know you can get along on your own popularity and this makes you stress the intrinsic worth of the subject itself a little less than it should be. Think about what I’ve said and if you have any thoughts on the subject, any comments, do feel free to come and talk them over with me. You won’t forget the cupboard will you? Perhaps you’d like me to say something in assembly to the whole school about keeping the games stock tidy?’

  ‘I’ll write you out a notice to give out if you would. I shan’t be able to be on the spot myself this dinner hour. I’ve promised to umpire a match for the second year. But I’m sure there are plenty of willing helpers who’d like to tidy a cupboard for me. I’ll think about what you said.’

  ‘Yes do. Could you send Mrs. Rolfe in to me on your way out?’

  ‘Miss Samuels would like to see you, Mrs. Rolfe.’

  The perfect bloody secretary leaps to her feet in a flash. Twitters in with the morning’s post. Hens, all hens round one old cock. Steady, hold steady. Just time for a quick one before the bell. How many butches pee standing up? Now wash your hands please.

  Look in the mirror. Hair could do with a comb. The wind. Kids’ll be all over the place like animals. Funny how the weather affects them. Why does she hate me? Hands still shaking a bit. Mouth acid. Fear and anger. Does she know? Guesses perhaps or instinctive. Clash of two masculine personalities. Maybe she’s frightened too. Likes to be popular. Afraid because I’m younger and the kids like me. Putting me in my place. The non-academic. A personality teacher among all these fine graduates. Bitch. Butch. I could have loved you. Not like that, no. But I could have loved you, modelled myself. Where’s the use? Sterile. You would never have had me as a friend. You only want satellites. Like Judy in a way.

  Pity though, a waste. You’ll always be lonely, apart from the rest of life. Never admit that you’re like everyone else. ‘Thinkest thou … no more cakes and ale?’ No more beer and fags and a warm woman in a bed. Let that be a lesson to me. Keep trying, never give up. Rosemary can tidy the cupboard. Maybe it’s time I left. Tried for a comprehensive. Been here nearly four years. Too long, O lord, too long. Not enough seniority for a comprehensive. Sec.mod. for experience and then a training college. Nice little niche and plenty of talent to choose from. Matt’s idea of paradise. What the hell can I do with 1e? Bloody woman’s put every thought out of my head.

  Stand in the doorway and wait for them to notice and hush creeps through the gym or blow the whistle and smart to attention? God they’re kicking up a racket this morning. Always notice it when I’ve been in with the old girl. Sets my teeth on edge somehow. Aware of all the shortcomings, noise, lack of respect. Snappish with the kids when it’s not their fault. I’m the one who’s different. Expect her to appear at any moment. Sit in judgement at the back. Silent. Then get up and walk out. Silent. And you wait
for the bomb to drop. ‘Could you spare a moment Miss Stevens? Would you mind closing the door?’ And the kids at their worst, self-conscious. Stumbling and not understanding. Cause one of my little ones to stumble. Must stop this din. Whistle.

  ‘Well 1e, that shouldn’t have been necessary should it? Stand still Jean when I blow the whistle, absolutely still. You should know that by now. Yes Valerie, go quickly. Haven’t those verrucas cleared up yet Hazel? It’s time you were back to bare feet. Right now, when I blow the whistle again I want you to line up in your team corners without a sound. Blues you’re taking a long time to sort yourselves out. Who’s the vice captain then if Monica’s away? Reds that’s a very poor line. Point each to greens and yellows. Now running on the spot to warm us all up. Get those knees as high as possible. Good that’s much better. Right two from each team get a form and I want you to choose your own exercise. Point to reds for a very nice line. Think of all the exciting things you can do with a form and I want to see as many of them as possible. Good Margaret, that’s just the sort of thing I mean.’

  Funny little things they are at this stage. Tadpoles or skinny fledglings barely human. Same basic structure as any other little animal. Four jointed limbs, a body and a head. Asexual. No real difference between little boys and little girls. One or two of them just beginning to show signs of a bosom, no more than a fat boy. Still smooth skinned though; almost seem transparent in some lights as if you could see the skeleton through like fish. Small fry. Big eyes in thin faces. Don’t wash enough the lower streams. Get a terrific fug up in their classrooms. Hits you when you go in. Valerie’s neck’s grey. Something funny about her home background. Must look up her card. Dirt between the toes, back of the ankles. Glad I made Nella captain of reds. Why are the West Indians so good at games? Move so much better, better physique. Generations of malnutrition, long hours in factories and shops stunted us. Weeds most of us, grown crooked out of the sun and air, dry barren lives. Funny how she smells different. Different diet: spices. Eat better than we do. Sliced white puff bread, sweety cardboard veg from the deep-freeze, milk bled veal and broilered chicken fluff. Whistle.

  ‘Good. There were some really interesting things there. Now two from each team fetch a mat and put it about three feet from the end of the form and see what you can do with that. Point for the first team to have started. Greens, point to the greens. Come along blues you’re all behind this morning.’

  Not much to look at myself really. Wiry, that’s the word for it. Always was. Poor mother. ‘When is she going to get some flesh on her bones, Mrs. Stevens, fill out a bit?’ When is she going to begin to look like a woman, something a man can handle, something you can marry off? Flat chest, almost a stoop. Not even the typical games mistress, all brawn and muscle. Run to fat in their forties, traditional heavy butch. Not my style. What was it Jill said? ‘Decadent Roman.’ Hair helps too and being dark. Short for world conquerors the Romans, like Hitler and Napoleon and Sexy Nelson. Makes dancing a bit difficult sometimes. Head on her shoulder. Dance well together. Wonder if she would? And then what? A few weeks of honeymoon spoon and goodbye cry. Nothing not even friends. Not worth it. Stick to what you’ve got. Don’t spoil the ship for a ha’porth of tart.

  ‘That’s very nice Yvonne. You can have a point for that. There blues Yvonne’s saved your reputation for you. Four people from each team to put mats and forms away. Team captains get out your apparatus. Reds on the box, blues on the horse, greens the ropes. Yes Mary?’

  ‘Please Miss Stevens they had the ropes last time.’

  ‘Did you Gwen?’

  ‘Yes Miss Stevens.’

  ‘Right, yellows the ropes and greens the bars then. Everyone move on to the next place when I blow the whistle. Just the top two sections of the box as usual reds. I know you can manage the whole thing Elaine, but we’re not all trained acrobats. Come along Gwen. Time you had the ropes down by now.’

  Too fat that child. Making her captain doesn’t seem to have made her any less lethargic. Begin to think it’s glands or is she just overfed? Can’t tell these days. What can you do when the parents don’t know how to feed them? Still, look at Elsie, a snippet of humanity. Wonder if any of them will. Just a dot. Yet how many cells in that little body and every one differentiated? What’s the sex of an amoeba? Or hasn’t it got a sex? Seems somehow feminine because it reproduces itself. And worms completely bisexual, I suppose, swapping sex like they do, both exactly the same and yet both giving the other something. Like us, only we’re sterile; no end product. Little Elsie’ll probably end up mother to a great brood of six little dots, six round demanding mouths to suck the life out of her thin body. Whistle.

  ‘Move on everybody.’

  Now they’re curious about it all. Just asking questions. What was it that kid put about in last year’s 1e, that she was pregnant. To get attention. Lived with her grandmother. Fancy thinking that one up at eleven. Had to send her to the child-guidance people for treatment. Seems alright now. Viscous love: worms. Too young even for crushes. That doesn’t start till the second year with puberty. How do they make contact? Uttering low cries of delight they squirmed across the rutty mud. Let’s go and make love in dead Earnest. How could anyone fancy a child? Often they only play with them. No response. Maybe because they weren’t allowed to play with themselves. Girls don’t seem to do that so much. At least not in public, in competition like boys. ‘Please Miss he’s showing his thing.’ Who’s got the biggest. Something tangible, a symbol of yourself, the little man. Girls have to substitute with dolls.

  ‘Mavis your hand isn’t in the right place. You can’t give proper support unless you’ve got it right under her arm. Stop everyone and look a minute. Mavis, stand as if you’ve just come over the horse. Now who can tell me what’s wrong? Nella? My hands aren’t in the right position. What might happen if I didn’t have my hands in the right position? Yes. She might fall back and hit her head or she might fall forward and twist an ankle or even break her arm. You must remember that girls. If you’re a catcher you’ve got a most important job to do. The safety of the people who are jumping depends on you. Right it’s time to put the apparatus away. Anyone who isn’t needed go and change and I don’t want to hear a lot of noise when I come into the cloakroom.’

  Scurry away like little mice; high piping voices. Too short these periods before break to get much done. Hope the tea’s poured out. Ten minutes isn’t long enough for it to get cool let alone if it isn’t even ready when you get there. That’s the bell. Must get those kids out of the cloakroom.

  ‘Come along now. Who’s going to be last? Those who are ready can go. Wait for her outside Nella then she might be a bit quicker. Whose plimsolls are these? Take them for her Marageret and tell her I want them brought to me tomorrow properly marked with name and form before she leaves them somewhere else and they end up in lost property. Outside now everyone or we shan’t have any break left.’

  Push open the door. Dearly beloved we are gathered here to partake of the tea of lubrication. Poor dad. The dregs of a religious upbringing. Whither shall I go and where shall I sit me down? Not that table, no. The Knight is there stinking with an acid chemical rankness that leaves an almost visible trail through the air as she goes. Little dogs roll over on their backs paralytic, cats run spitting for the nearest alley. Try the windowsill. Chat up the little French piece. Mademoiselle from Armentiers parlez vous?

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Sorry. I was thinking aloud.’

  ‘You speak French?’

  ‘Un peu. Un petit peu. But your English is better than my French and it is good for you to practise.’

  ‘Oh yes. It is good because at home I am having a flat with two other French girls and we are speaking together all the time in French. Also I don’t know many English people.’

  ‘We aren’t easy to know. Not always very friendly.’

  ‘You are a little réservé.’

  ‘Reserved.’

  ‘Does Miss Holroyd look after you?’<
br />
  ‘Oh yes. She is very kind.’

  ‘What do you do in the evenings?’

  ‘Oh I study and sometimes we go altogether to the cinema.’

  ‘London is rather different from Paris.’

  ‘You have been to Paris?’

  ‘Twice.’

  ‘Do you like?’

  ‘Oh yes. Very much.’

  ‘What do you like?’

  ‘The cheap wine. In Paris you can always get a drink. You can wear what you like and go where you like and no one stares at you. Everyone is accepted as an individual. I like the night life.’

  ‘You have seen?’

  ‘A little, in Pigalle and Montmartre.’ Tread softly. ‘What have you seen in London?’

  ‘I have been to the Houses of Parliament and to the British Museum. That is all. It is difficult when you do not have anyone to go with.’

  ‘What about the friends you share with?’

  ‘They are not interested to go to these places only to drink coffee with other French people in the coffee bar.’

  ‘Have you been to Oxford?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Would you like to?’

  ‘Oh yes. It would be very beautiful I think.’

  ‘I have a car, only a small one, but we could go one Saturday or Sunday if you would like to.’

  ‘But I don’t want to be a trouble.’

  ‘No trouble. I haven’t been for years. I should enjoy showing it to you if you’d like to go. It can’t be this weekend I’m afraid because I’m going to my mother’s but next weekend is alright for me if it is for you. Shall we say Sunday?’

  ‘Oh yes. Sunday is very good for me.’

  ‘There’s the bell. I’ll see you at lunchtime.’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  Oh yes, yes and there’s a thing, a pretty little thing. The fool hath said in his heart there is no ding a dong ding. No possibility of my ever again. No more fatuous, infatuated thud-thud of a heart gone suddenly crazy. Oh no, no. And ‘Oh yes,’ she says. ‘Sunday is very good for me;’ the flower of her face turned up towards my sun.

 

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