The Heart of the Dales (13 page)

‘You see,' said David, ‘Gervase agrees with me. The Welsh are the world's greatest teachers and preachers, and the Land of my Fathers is a most hospitable nation, despite what the English have done to it over the centuries, repressing our way of life, trying to ban our mellifluous language and stamp out the culture.'

‘Oh please, I beg you,' pleaded Sidney, pressing his hands together as if in prayer, ‘don't let's go down the road of the English oppression of the Welsh again, the heroism of Glendower and the decline of the Druids.'

‘It's a fact,' said David. ‘My dear grandmother had to wear
the Welsh Knot at school for daring to speak her native language.'

‘The what?' I asked.

‘It was a sort of noose,' explained David, ‘which the teacher placed around a child's neck as a punishment for speaking Welsh. The English tried to suppress our native language, you see. If a teacher heard a child speaking Welsh, the language of his home and his forefathers, he or she was made to wear this noose as a punishment. Barbaric it was. My poor grandmother never forgot that humiliation.'

‘From what I have heard of your Welsh grandmother, this Welsh Knot had little effect,' said Sidney. ‘She never stopped talking or missed an opportunity of proffering her homely advice.'

‘Cruel it was,' said David, ‘putting a noose around a child's neck. But despite the tyranny of the English over the centuries, we Welsh have remained a very generous and welcoming nation. Perhaps, Sidney, it is because of your loud and aggressive manner that people react to you in the way they do.'

‘Loud and aggressive!' spluttered his colleague. ‘
Moi?
'

Connie poked her head through the hatch and glowered. ‘It's like a Punch and Judy show out there,' she said. ‘Will you keep your voices down?'

‘Morning, Connie,' said David.

‘Do you two want coffee?'

‘Ah, Connie,' said Sidney, ‘what a delight to see your happy, smiling countenance, brightening up my sad and sorry life on such a wet, windy and incredibly inhospitable morning.'

Connie grimaced and thrust two large mugs of black coffee through the hatch.

‘And perchance I might crave a
soupçeon
of milk,' suggested Sidney.

‘It's off!' snapped Connie slamming the hatch cover with a bang and missing Sidney's fingers by an inch.

‘You know, I can see the efficacy of this Welsh Knot,' said Sidney thoughtfully. ‘I wonder if Connie might be prevailed upon to wear the English equivalent.'

The three of us retired to the small staff room. Sidney put down his coffee before flopping in a chair and looking at his watch. ‘So, are our loins fully girded up for the onslaught of the new term and our meeting with the wonderful Winnie?'

‘Sshh! Don't let the boss hear you call her that,' I warned him.

When the Chief Inspector, Miss Winifred de la Mare, had started at the beginning of the previous term, none of us had known how to address her. We had been sitting in the same staff room before the first inspectors' meeting of the term, much as we were doing now.

‘What are we going to call our esteemed leader,' Sidney had asked. ‘Winifred is such an awful name,' he'd said, tipping back in his chair, ‘and Miss de la Mare is a terrible mouthful.'

‘I had an aunt called Winifred,' David had said. ‘Dreadful old crone she was, always moaning and groaning and –' He had stopped abruptly when a large figure loomed in the doorway.

‘Good morning, gentlemen,' the lady in question had boomed as we had all shot to our feet. ‘I quite agree about the name – and don't even think about shortening it to Winnie, which is what I had to suffer all through my school days. “Winnie the Pooh”, some of the other girls would call me. My close friends called me Della and I suggest that is what you do.' She had beamed at us, but then added quickly, ‘But only when we are working together, mind. At any public event, I should be grateful if you would please revert to Miss de la Mare, just to keep up appearances.' We had all mumbled our agreement, and that was how it had been.

Sidney now looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘If Geraldine doesn't get her skates on, she'll be late for the meeting. Incidentally, do you know –'

Whatever knowledge Sidney was going to impart came to an abrupt halt as the door opened and Miss de la Mare put her head round.

‘Good morning, gentlemen. Could you bear to wait just a bit longer? I am having a word with Geraldine at the moment, but we'll be through in five minutes.'

‘I wonder why she is having a word with Geraldine?' mused David when Miss de la Mare had gone.

‘I suppose the only time she can manage to see our elusive colleague is at our meetings,' observed Sidney. ‘It was quite a surprise to see her in the office yesterday, having friendly chit-chat. She was like a ghostly presence for most of last year.'

Dr Geraldine Mullarkey, the inspector in charge of Science and Technology, was the most recently appointed member of our team and tended to keep very much to herself.

‘She has her small child to see to,' David reminded his colleague. ‘It can't be all that easy, a single parent bringing up a lively toddler and holding down a demanding job. I should think that the last thing she wants is badinage and friendly chit-chat with you.'

‘You don't need to jump to her defence, my Welsh friend,' said Sidney. ‘I wasn't being critical of the woman. I was merely observing that she is not one to fraternise or join us for witty conversation.'

‘Witty!' spluttered David. ‘Is that what you call it?'

‘I've been called a shining wit, I'll have you know,' said Sidney, winking at me.

‘Well, that's what you thought you heard someone say about you,' I commented. ‘I reckon you misheard, Sidney. You have heard of a spoonerism, I take it?'

‘I shall ignore that cruel and cutting comment,' said my colleague. ‘It's nearly eight thirty, so I suppose we had better be making a move.'

‘I must say,' said David getting to his feet, ‘that since our Winifred arrived, we get through business like a dose of salts. Meetings went on interminably with Harold, largely because he was unable to shut you up, Sidney.'

‘I strongly object to that slur,' began his colleague. ‘If there is anyone with verbal diarrhoea,
il mio amico piccolo
, it's you. Bring back the good old Welsh Knot, that's what I say.'

‘Come along, you two,' I said. ‘We'd better return our cups to the kitchen before we start, or we'll have Connie after us.'

‘Something I positively do not wish to experience,' groaned Sidney, picking up his mug.

Geraldine Mullarkey was chatting to Miss de la Mare when the three of us arrived in the meeting room. She was a pretty young woman with short black hair, a pale, delicately-boned face and great blue long-lashed Irish eyes. Gerry was clever, personable and very efficient but was an exceptionally private person who, when she wasn't visiting schools, tended to work away from the office, preferring either the SDC or her own home. She kept her life outside the job strictly to herself and was something of a mystery. Soon after she joined the inspectorate, we had learned, by accident, that she had a small son, Jamie. Despite Sidney's interrogation, Gerry would reveal nothing about her past life, whether or not she had been married, or who the father of her child was. Sidney had once brought up the matter of her little boy's parentage and received a curt response.

‘My private life is my private life, Sidney,' Geraldine had told him sharply. ‘I do not wish to discuss it.'

In Meeting Room One, Miss de la Mare sat at the head of the table surrounded by her papers. We took our places around her. ‘Good morning,' she said cheerfully. ‘All present and correct and on time, and I hope all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready for a challenging term.' The squirrel in the loft immediately flashed into my mind. ‘Now, we have a lot to get through this morning,' continued the Chief Inspector, ‘but before I start –'

Miss de la Mare's introduction was cut short when Connie poked her head around the door. ‘I'm sorry to disturb your deliberations, Miss de la Mare,' she said, ‘but I have an urgent message for Mr Phinn. His wife's phoned and said to tell him that the squirrel has returned.'

‘How very intriguing,' said Sidney at once.

‘Thanks, Connie,' I said. ‘I'm sorry about this, Della.'

‘All she said,' continued Connie, ‘was, “the squirrel has returned”.'

‘You're not some secret agent are you, Gervase?' asked
Sidney. ‘This is not some sort of coded message: “The eagle has landed”, “The lion is on the loose”, “The squirrel has returned”?'

‘We have a squirrel in the loft,' I told him.

‘They come in our garden regular,' added Connie. ‘Some of them are quite tame. I found one in the kitchen once, large as life.'

‘Actually, squirrels are fascinating little creatures,' added Geraldine. ‘I attended a conference on environmental education recently and the speaker said that grey squirrel predation is a growing threat to other wildlife, particularly birds whose eggs they eat. It's the indigenous red squirrel that has all but been wiped out by the foreign grey squirrel.'

‘A sort of “off-comed-un” squirrel,' said Sidney, sniggering at his little joke.

‘Apparently, the North American grey squirrel has been particularly clever at adapting to the British environment,' continued Geraldine, ‘and there is a very wide range of food it will eat compared to the vegetarian red. It is a little-known fact –'

‘Colleagues,' interrupted the Chief Inspector, ‘I think we have said quite enough about squirrels for one day. Thank you, Geraldine, for that fascinating insight, but we really must proceed. Gervase will deal with his squirrel when he gets home tonight.' She caught sight of Connie still standing by the door. ‘Was there something else, Connie?' she asked.

‘Will you remind them about the painters?'

‘Painters!' exclaimed Sidney. ‘And what painters pray are these?'

‘Not your sort,' said Connie. ‘Painters and decorators. They'll be in the Centre next week so I suggest you all give it a wide berth.'

‘But I am running an art course next week!' exclaimed Sidney.

Miss de la Mare now looked decidedly annoyed by the prolonged interruption to the meeting. ‘Perhaps you might like to discuss the matter with Connie after the meeting, Sidney,' she said firmly. ‘We really must get on. Thank you once again, Connie.'

Connie departed, mumbling something under her breath.

‘Now, as I was saying,' continued the Chief Inspector, ‘the term ahead promises to be very challenging but I have every confidence that we will all rise to that challenge.' She picked up a large red folder and placed it before her. ‘The main business of the morning concerns re-organisation.'

‘Oh no,' sighed Sidney, leaning back precariously on his chair. ‘Not more change.'

‘I'm afraid so,' said Miss de la Mare. ‘The numbers of children attending the county schools has declined quite considerably over the last few years, which will mean changes in staffing and, with that, redeployments, retirements, redundancies and, I'm afraid to say, some school closures.' I looked up sharply. ‘Don't look so worried, Gervase,' she added, ‘this won't involve Hawksrill, where the numbers are looking very healthy and are on the increase.'

‘Very fecund lot in Hawksrill,' murmured Sidney beside me.

‘I
beg
your pardon?' I whispered crossly.

Miss de la Mare gave Sidney a withering look before continuing. ‘As you are all aware, I fought long and hard to stop the closures of some schools last year, schools that I felt were viable and doing well, but I'm afraid I've had to bow to the inevitable with those schools that are less successful. Massive savings have to be made in the educational budget and, sadly, this means that some schools have to close. Accompanying this, of course, will be the interminable public meetings and, no doubt, strong objections from parents and governors.' She picked up a paper. ‘Now, I have here a rather convoluted memorandum from Dr Gore, confidential, of course.'

‘Written by Mrs Savage, no doubt,' added David, ‘in her usual incomprehensible style.'

‘Now there's a case of predation if ever there was one,' said Sidney. ‘Predatory would be too kind a word to describe Mrs Savage. She's been a growing threat to everyone in the Education Department since she was promoted way beyond her meagre capabilities.'

‘I have to say,' said the Chief Inspector, ‘that the CEO's
Personal Assistant does have an excessively wordy way of saying things. I have an idea this style of writing is called galimatias – rather confused and full of somewhat meaningless jargon. Is that the right word, Gervase?'

‘I've no idea,' I said.

‘I've another name for it,' said David. ‘Twaddle!'

‘Well, let me read it,' said Miss de la Mare. ‘The Education Department, as part of the rigorous ongoing process of consolidating and developing its educational provision and in the light of the increasing pupil shortfall in the county and in concert with the Education Sub-Committee Staffing and Resources, will be instituting a thorough, effective and consultative initiative in which the school inspectorate will take a leading strategic part. The Chief Education Officer is looking for an ongoing 360 degree feedback before the necessary re-engineering, restructuring and realigning of the educational provision takes place.' '

‘Give me strength,' sighed David. ‘And what is that gobble-degooksupposed to mean?'

‘What it means,' explained the Chief Inspector, ‘is that we, the inspectors, will be responsible for consulting interested parties and then seeing through the closures.'