Chalk Dust & Broomsticks, Chapter 8

More changes at the school and Miss Pink has a secret...

Chapter 8: An Air of Tension

Shirley

My friend Dora, the General Assistant, was a creature of comfort and adaptability. She reigned in her room next to the playground, a small domain complete with a couch-bed for sick children, a sink, and an arsenal of quick-fix necessities: disposable gloves (we weren't allowed to touch blood), lost property, and a box of generously donated children's pants for those all-too-frequent emergencies. Dora was practical, good-natured, and she talked a lot. I had no doubt she would know exactly how to get the best out of Althea. Like myself she'd outlasted three previous Head Teachers.

"Do you think we'll get a word in edgeways?" I asked her as we sat in the small hall awaiting the arrival of Mr. Blunt from the Education Office. He was coming to talk to us and see how everything was progressing now that we were 'one' school.

"I doubt it," she replied. "We didn't last time."

The truth was that it had been difficult! The new administration block, physically joining the two school buildings, was still not finished. A problem had arisen. The workmen had discovered that in the ground, under the proposed new building, was a number of sewage pipes and they all had to be moved before the building work could be done. This discovery had held things up for weeks.

The new headteacher was not proving popular with the existing staff and several of them had contacted the Governing Body with complaints. Althea's abrasive manner had done nothing to help the amalgamation. Staff on both sides of the building had begun to wonder if there was a secret agenda and fear of the Ofsted (office for standards in education) Inspection to come was escalating.

The fact was, Mr. Blunt had a vision and Althea was his executioner.

The Interview Command

There was an air of tension in the school that I hadn't noticed before the arrival of Althea. Even the goldfish in the tank in the foyer looked worried and were off their food lately. I made a mental note: Althea would dispense with that fish tank in the fullness of time. They didn't have "pet" fish where she was brought up, only piranhas. Perhaps I could re-home them before they disappeared down the toilet.

The dark cloud hanging over the school intensified on Thursday afternoon during our weekly staff meeting. Althea adopted the larger on the junior side and liked the staff to sit in a nervous circle. We all filed in, trying to be invisible, the Infant Staff and the Junior Staff still a divided house, mourning the loss of their beloved, departed Headmaster, Mr. Padstow.

"Today I want to tell you that I will be continuing my teaching staff interviews tomorrow morning," said Althea. She paused, scanning the circle slowly with her eyes. There is something quite unnerving about a woman with hair so short, positively shaved up the back of her head. It was a manly style, not unlike my dad's when he was in the army. Was it my imagination, or did I just see her pat the knee of the games teacher?

"You will all be interviewed individually in my office because I want to get to know each of you and what you are responsible for here in the school," she continued.

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Miss Pink's Discovery

The Little Explorers Nursery Unit

The Nursery Unit, where forty rising-fives tumbled through the door in the morning and were replaced by forty rising-fours in the afternoon, used to run like clockwork. Mary Pink, though timid, filled the Unit with a warm, stable glow, surrounded by coloured cut-out elephants and dangling snakes of white polystyrene macaroni. She was ably assisted by three Nursery Nurses, including a new arrival named Miss Sweep.

Recently Althea announced she would be spending time in the Unit to familiarise herself with life there. The head's previous school hadn't even had a nursery. Mary looked worried, Mrs. Stoneleigh and Miss Sweep perplexed, and Mrs. Carter merely shrugged, "She won't eat us."

I watched Althea stride across the playground and thought to myself, how much like a dragon she did look. Her breath would no doubt be red on a frosty morning, though this was September and the summer weather was stubbornly clinging on.

Stepping into the Little Explorers Nursery Unit, attached to The Infant section of Primrose Primary School felt like entering a giant, joyful kaleidoscope. It was an immersion of colour, organised noise, and palpable enthusiasm. The air hummed with the energetic buzz of forty children aged four plus; a dynamic soundscape built of excited chatter, the rhythmic clack of wooden blocks, sudden bursts of laughter, and the cheerful, guiding voices of the staff.

The large, open-plan room was bathed in natural light streaming from low-set windows, making every corner glow. Every available surface was a canvas for learning and fun. I always welcomed going over to see the staff, whose walls were a riot of bright primary colours, currently dominated by the glorious, imaginative theme of zoo animals. One large display board featured a majestic, oversized lion whose mane was made of hundreds of orange and yellow handprints, while another showcased a line of brightly painted tigers, their stripes meticulously created using potato prints. Underneath, a paper chain of long, swinging elephants connected one learning station to the next, complete with trunks made from rolled-up grey paper.

This organised chaos was expertly managed by Mary Pink and the Nursery Nurses, who moved through the space with an effortless blend of patience and engagement, guiding projects, resolving minor disputes over the best red crayon, and offering endless encouragement. Their role was far more than supervision; they were facilitators of curiosity and creativity.
"Hi Shirley" smiled Miss Sweep. "It's Carol's birthday today (Mrs. Carter). Would you like a piece of her birthday cake?"

"I wouldn't say no" I replied, feeling my tummy rumbling at the mention of the word 'cake'. Cake was one of my little failings, although I called them 'my indulgencies.' I had to watch my weight, otherwise the broomstick would be overloaded...

The children were immersed in a variety of animal-themed projects. At the craft table, a group was enthusiastically gluing fluffy wool onto cardboard shapes to create sheep for the zoo farm, while another cluster was using long rolls of brown paper and thick paint to practise making the incredibly long neck of a giraffe. In the construction corner, the largest pile of Duplo blocks in the room was being transformed into a 'strong cage' for a pretend rhinoceros, complete with a makeshift watering hole.

The unit was designed to provide a rich, stimulating environment where children could build foundational social skills. The two-hour maximum session length was deliberately structured to be intense and beneficial. It was invaluable for getting young children used to mixing with their peer group, teaching them the essential early lessons of sharing, taking turns, listening to instructions, and learning to navigate a group environment, all crucial steps in readiness for school.

Tucked away in a quiet corner, away from the main hubbub, was a sanctuary: the Quiet Room. This space was a haven designed specifically for children who might be feeling a little overwhelmed, insecure, or perhaps poorly. Painted a soft, soothing pastel blue, the room was dimly lit with gentle lamps, offering an immediate sense of calm. It featured a deep, comfortable couch covered in soft blankets, perfect for a little one to curl up on. A basket overflowing with a variety of soft toys sat beside it, offering a selection of friendly teddy bears to cuddle. When the noise of the main room got too much, or if a child missed their parent, the Quiet Room provided a vital, transitional space, a place to regulate emotions and rest, ensuring that every child's first step into the school environment was as positive and secure as possible.

The Little Explorers Nursery Unit was a miniature world dedicated to making those first steps into education joyful. It was a happy, noisy, colourful place where learning was play and community was built one shared crayon and one roaring lion project at a time.

Balancing my piece of cake in one hand and holding a folder containing documents in the other, I used my elbow to knock on the Nursery office door.


"Come in" called Miss Pink, "I won't be a minute."

I went in. I liked Mary a lot. Mary had problems at home - a daughter who wouldn't get on with her life and elderly, ailing mother who lived in a nearby old people's home and required regular visiting. Mary took it all in her stride, but she didn't need any more stress.

I found her sitting at her desk reviewing next term's admission figures. In those days children were absorbed into the system after their third birthday, easing the yearly chaos, but today, the figures were a distraction. Mary Pink had a secret.

I gave her the folder and intended to stay a few more minutes but was distracted by the telephone ringing persistently. I could hear it, even across the playground between the main building and the nursery so I didn't see Mary put the folder into her drawer. If I had I would have seen her fingering an envelope. The envelope was small, personal and had clearly fallen unnoticed from Althea's handbag previously, during her critical observation day. The letter had been lying on the floor amongst a pile of Lego bricks at the end of the day.

Mary had every intention of returning it to Althea, yet, turning it over and over in her hand, she noticed the flap wasn't stuck down as well as it could have been. Curiosity, the great undoer, got the better of her. Soon, a nervous finger snuck underneath the flap, releasing the letter within.

She retreated to the staff toilet, locked the door, and unfolded the paper. As she read the carefully composed words, her eyebrows lifted with genuine surprise and a spark of interest. "Well, I never," she thought to herself. The letter was signed: "Yours, as ever, Alex." She smoothed the paper, returned it to the envelope, and tucked it back into her drawer. It would remain there, at least for the moment.



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