Chalk Dust & Broomsticks, Chapter 40

Flashback to Althea & Alex's shopping trip to Marrakech.

The Scent of Marrakesh

Flashback – October 1998

Althea Gardner loved going to Marrakesh. With so many holidays in the school year, planning a short break in the wonderfully vibrant city was easy; so when Althea received a phone call from Alex, inviting her to spend a weekend with her in Marrakesh, at the end of the October half-term holiday, she jumped at it.

“Hey Althea – there’s a good deal going this weekend for a flight to Marrakesh. Do you fancy coming along? It’s a bit early for Christmas shopping, but I wouldn’t mind checking out the handbag shops in the souk. I need a new one for my Autumn wardrobe.”

“Hi Alex,” answered Althea, her face lighting up, “Sure, I’ll have to check my diary, but I think I can make it this weekend. Do you remember those gorgeous jewellery boxes we saw last time? I’d like to see if they are still available.”

“Yes, I remember. They were in the Bab El Khemis vintage market. They had some wonderful bargains there, didn’t they. Maybe we could treat ourselves to something in the jewellery line too, while we’re there? What do you think?

“Good idea. I’ll ring you straight back, then you can book it.”

It didn’t take long for Althea to check her diary and ring Alex. For the rest of the day her thoughts were on the forthcoming weekend treat. It was only a three hour flight from their local airport and a short taxi ride to Alex’s apartment. Soon she would be lying in the sun on one of Alex’s sun loungers, watching the little lizards scuttling across the patio.

The two friends enjoyed wandering in a labyrinth of alleyways where, whichever way they looked, there were colourful treasures to be had and exotic food to be sampled. Who would have guessed that soon one of those warm bodies would be disintegrating under intense heat in the school boiler house, while the other would be walking free.

The first summer that Alex suggested Althea accompany her to her apartment, Althea jumped at the chance. They enjoyed the relentless heat of a North African summer. It soon became their go-to place. Making memories became an addictive and enjoyable habit.

The flight to Marrakech was uneventful and soon the pair were enjoying a glass of wine in Alex’s beautiful courtyard.

The next morning, a Saturday, the ladies were wandering through a warren of alleys – the air heavy with the aroma of spices and coffee. They stopped to peer into a jeweller’s window, and to cement their friendship, they bought each other a beautiful gold necklace. Each necklace was the same – a nine carat gold necklace in the shape of a capital ‘A’. Since it was a letter that they both shared, it was a tangible bond, which each of them could touch and stroke when they were apart. Away from the school, Althea’s softer side showed itself. She was enjoying the break. They discovered a mini-souk where the smell of leather predominated.

“Can you believe these handbags, Althea,” exclaimed Alex. “There are so many and I love them all!”

“I can see a jewellery box, just the sort I want,” Althea whispered as she made her way to the back of the shop.”

The shopkeeper followed them round, explaining how and where the handbags were made and pointing out the quality of the jewellery box to Althea. They left their purchases with the shopkeeper, who promised to send them back to England by post within a couple of weeks, to save space in their luggage.

That night, Alex and Althea sat on the roof terrace enjoying a meal and a cool glass of wine. The sky was black and full of stars. Inevitably their conversation turned to affairs at the school.

“How’s it going at the school, Althea?” asked Alex. “Are you settling in ok? – putting your plans into effect? – getting to know the staff?

Althea shifted in her lounger and looked directly at Alex…”Well it won’t be for long, will it? So there’s no point in my getting settled in, is there! As soon as the Ofsted inspection is over, the school will be closed and I’ll be ensconced in the main offices downtown next to you Alex.”

“When is the Ofsted inspection? Have you got a date yet?

“No, but it should be before Christmas.” Althea took another sip of her wine.

“That’s quick! And there is so much to do in the current term. What will you do if it goes over Christmas into the New Year? Alex swept her hand through her long, lustrous hair.

“Plenty I can do Alex. Lots of disruption I can cause. It should be enjoyable, whichever way it goes.”

“Supposing the inspection is favourable, then what?”

Althea sighed…”Well, Nick Blunt will step in if that happens. I’ll be back in that office next to yours soon, trust me.”

Alex, though, had begun to tire of Althea. She had other passions, and Althea was a jealous woman. Trouble began to simmer with the spice of suspicion, finally boiling and bubbling over. Her passionate use for Althea would soon be over. She had deceived her for too long and knew a confrontation was inevitable. In future Althea would be a friend, but nothing more.
The next day, Alex lay on her sunbed beside the lily pond in her courtyard, the azure blue sky emphasized her striking blue eyes against her jet-black hair. Her eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, were open but her thoughts were as dark as the North African night.

Nick Blunt was Alex's latest conquest. They had both stopped at nothing to advance their careers and were now enjoying the fruits of their connivance.

Nick was instrumental in Althea's appointment, having hand-picked her, entirely convinced that "the end justifies the means. He regarded Althea's interview as efficacious. "We'd like to offer you the job of Headteacher," he smiled after a gruelling day of interviews. Althea had accepted immediately, believing she'd soon be offered an additional role at the Local Authority Office, right next to Alex…

End of Flashback

+++
Early November 1999
The atmosphere in Primrose Primary in early November was thick, and not merely because of the decorative cobwebs, left over from Halloween, draped over the reception desk. A damp, Autumnal chill clung to the walls, and the lingering presence of police tape near the boiler room felt like a physical weight. Althea moved through the corridors like a ghost of her former self. She was back on "phased return," a clinical term that meant she sat in her office for three hours a day while Mrs. Phillips actually ran the school from the staff room.

Althea pushed open her office door. The room felt sterile yet unsettled. The forensic team had dusted every surface for prints, leaving a fine grey film over her desk. She sat, her hands trembling slightly, staring at the empty space where her bronze statuette had once stood, the broken weapon Jane believed had ended Alex Simmons.

A sharp, rhythmic thwack-slide announced the arrival of the morning’s true authority. Jane entered, armed with a mop and a plastic bucket, her face set in a mask of grim determination. She didn't offer a "good morning." Instead, she began to move the furniture with unnecessary force.

"Police didn't put things back right," Jane muttered, more to the walls than to Althea. "Left a right mess under the cabinets. Dust doesn't stop for a murder investigation, does it?"

Althea didn't respond. She felt diminished, dampened by the heavy vibrations of the school’s growing resentment.
Jane dropped to her knees to scrub the skirting board behind the filing cabinet. As she reached into the narrow gap between the metal and the floor, her fingers brushed against something stiff and waxy. With a grunt of effort, she fished it out. It was a long, cream-colored envelope, grey with dust and sporting a distinct, dried coffee ring.

"Well, well," Jane said, standing up and slapping the envelope against her palm. "The lost scrolls of Primrose."

Althea looked up, her eyes narrowing. "What is that?"

"It was under the cupboard. Must have flown off your desk the night you had your... turn," Jane said, her voice dripping with a feigned sympathy that didn't reach her eyes. She walked over and dropped the letter onto Althea’s desk. The bold Ofsted logo stared upward, a mocking reminder of a different era. "Looks like you never got around to the post."

Althea’s fingers fumbled with the seal. As she pulled out the heavy bond paper, Jane didn't leave. She stood like an executioner, watching.

Althea read the first paragraph. Then the second. Her face, already pale, turned a sickly shade of parchment. The letter was dated nearly six months ago. It was a formal notification of the final report: Primrose Primary School - Overall Effectiveness: Outstanding.

The words blurred before Althea’s eyes. The inspectors had found the curriculum robust, the leadership, the previous leadership of Geoff Padstow and Mrs. Ogglesby, exemplary. The "Notice to Improve" she had been so sure was coming, the failure she had planned to use as a mandate to close the school, had never existed. The school had been near perfect before she ever set foot in it.

"Outstanding," Jane whispered, having read the bold print over Althea’s shoulder. "Fancy that. All that shouting you did about 'failing standards' and 'drastic measures.' Seems Geoff had it right all along, didn't he? He left you a gold mine, and you treated it like a scrapyard."

Althea went to speak, to assert her authority, but Jane wasn't finished. The cleaner reached into her pinafore pocket and pulled out a small, glittering object. She dropped it onto the Ofsted letter with a metallic clink.

It was the gold necklace. The letter 'A' caught the fluorescent light, dancing mockingly against the word Outstanding.

"Found this in the boiler house," Jane said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss. "My Gerald’s been a fool, helping tidy up your messes. He thought the 'A' was for Althea. He thought he was protecting the Headmistress."

Althea stared at the necklace. The gold seemed to burn the paper beneath it.

"But we know better now, don't we?" Jane leaned in close, the scent of bleach overwhelming Althea’s expensive perfume. "The 'A' isn't for you. It’s for Alex. And this letter? This letter proves you didn't have to change a single thing to save this school. You didn't come here to lead, Althea. You came here to hunt."

Jane picked up her bucket. The water sloshed, dark and soapy. "Enjoy your reading. I've got the rest of the school to clean. Someone has to get the filth out."

Althea was left alone in the silence, the "Outstanding" grade a heavy shroud over her desk, and the gold 'A' staring back at her like an unblinking eye.

+++