The Heart of the Dales (14 page)

‘I don't like the sound of that,' observed David, giving a deprecatory shrug.

‘We will be about as popular with schools as King Herod at a playgroup,' said Sidney.

‘If I may continue,' said Miss de la Mare, allowing herself a slight smile at Sidney's witticism, ‘an initial selection of the five schools has already been made by Mrs Savage, based on a number of factors, or as she likes to term them, “triggers”: where the pupil population is declining most rapidly, where there is another school in reasonable travelling distance or where two schools might amalgamate, where the teaching staff are nearing retirement age and might favourably consider a redundancy package, and where the standards in the schools, based on your reports, are deemed unsatisfactory.'

‘Mrs Savage has been a busy bee over the summer and no
mistake,' said David. ‘Just the sort of job she would like –closing schools and putting people out of jobs.'

‘Predatory,' murmured Sidney.

‘I have to say that you are rather hard on Mrs Savage,' said the Chief Inspector. ‘I appreciate that she's not the most personable and co-operative of people and at times can be a little tactless, but I have always found her very professional and one who takes her duties seriously.'

Geraldine raised an eyebrow in wordless contradiction but said nothing.

‘With respect, Della,' said David witheringly, ‘you have not worked with her as long as we have. She can be the most infuriating, interfering and domineering person with whom it has been my misfortune to come into contact.'

‘I rarely agree with my Welsh colleague,' said Sidney, ‘but on this one I am with him all the way. The purpose of the woman's life is a warning to others. She needs one of these Welsh Knots around that swan-like neck of hers. Let me give you an instance of why she can be so disagreeable. Once, when –'

‘I'd rather you didn't, Sidney,' said Miss de la Mare, cutting him off. ‘We are not here to discuss Mrs Savage and I do think it is in rather bad taste to talk about strangling her. She's not really that bad. Let's move on. Each of us,' continued the Chief Inspector, ‘will take one of these schools, make a visit, explain things to the headteacher and the respective governing body, address the parents' meeting, attend the consultative discussions, and submit a report for Dr Gore to take to the Education Sub-Committee. Then, when all things have been considered, final decisions will be made. I am sure I do not need to stress that this is likely to be an extremely sensitive issue, bearing in mind what happened last time when it was suggested some schools should close, so it requires a great deal of diplomacy and discretion.'

It was a depressing meeting but near the end the Chief Inspector attempted to raise our spirits and conclude on a positive note. ‘Before we go on our way, colleagues,' she said,
‘I should like to thank you all for the sterling work and great efforts you put in during the last academic year, and most especially for all your support since I took up my present position. The comments from headteachers and teachers speak for themselves.' Miss de la Mare picked up a letter and held it before her. ‘For example, David, Miss Bronson, the headmistress of Lady Cavendish High School for Girls, has written to Dr Gore who has passed the letter on to me. She wishes to place on record her gratitude to you for your, and I quote, “quite superb support and advice with the ‘A' level students last year”. I believe you did a series of masterclass workshops with the sixth form.'

‘I did indeed,' replied David, looking extremely pleased at the praise, ‘and very well received they were, too.'

‘Well, the results in mathematics at ‘A' level,' continued Miss de la Mare, ‘were the best ever and every applicant that went on to university to read mathematics was successful. Indeed, the school has seen its highest number of students accepted to read mathematics at Oxbridge.'

‘Very gratifying,' said David.

‘So, well done,' added Miss de la Mare.

‘It's very nice to know that one's efforts have been appreciated, Della,' said David, plucking his spectacles from his nose, which he then proceeded to clean with a large coloured handkerchief. He breathed noisily on the lenses, vigorously polishing and holding them up to the light to look for smears. ‘Yes, very gratifying,' he said, smiling beatifically.

‘In addition, I received only yesterday a very complimentary letter from the Schools Athletic Association also commending your work.'

‘My, my,' remarked Sidney, once more leaning back dangerously in his chair, ‘we shall have to erect a blue plaque in his honour.' Then he added, ‘In Welsh, of course.'

‘And congratulations I think are in order for you, too, Sidney,' said the Chief Inspector.

‘Really?' No one looked more surprised than he did.

‘The Arts Week you organised during the summer was a
great success, and I hear on the grapevine that you are going to have an exhibition of your paintings – in a gallery in York, I believe?'

‘You kept very quiet about that,' I said. ‘Congratulations.'

‘Well done, Sidney,' said Geraldine, ‘that's brilliant.'

‘They aren't those awful red and blacks plodges, splotches, splashes, smears and daubs fancifully called abstract art which any infant could paint, are they?' asked David.

‘Never use one word, my dear fellow, when four will suffice,' replied Sidney. ‘Actually the exhibition will include some portraits that I have done during the last few years and several landscapes of the Yorkshire Dales. My agent tells me that the latter should sell for a not insubstantial amount.'

‘Well, it's very good for the county to have such a talented artist on the team,' said Miss de la Mare. ‘Well done.'

‘Your good wishes are gratefully received, Della,' said Sidney, sitting up in his chair and bowing his head.

‘We certainly seem to have had a good last term,' Miss de la Mare said, turning to Geraldine. ‘The teachers' evaluation forms for your courses, Geraldine, which I have just been looking through, were, without exception, excellent. Many of the delegates said how very practical, interesting and varied your in-service training has been. So, well done to you, too.'

Now all eyes seemed to be trained on me for my plaudit.

‘And Gervase,' began the Chief Inspector, looking me straight in the eyes.

‘Yes,' I looked back at her expectantly.

‘You won't forget that I want to speak to you after this meeting, will you?'

‘I have had a serious complaint,' said Miss de la Mare.

The other inspectors had gone about their business and I was alone, with dry mouth and beating heart, facing the Chief Inspector for the dreaded meeting.

‘And it's about one of my reports?' I asked hesitantly.

‘Yes, it does concern one of your reports,' she said. ‘I had Mrs Savage on the telephone yesterday just as I was on my way
home, and I had to drop everything and go and see the CEO.'

‘It's that serious, then?' I asked.

‘I'm afraid it very well might be,' replied Miss de la Mare. ‘County Councillor Peterson is on the war path.'

As I suspected, Councillor Sidebottom hadn't wasted any time in getting in touch with his pal on the Education Committee. He had probably got on the telephone to County Hall just as soon as his wife had got home that afternoon to complain about my visit. I recalled her pointed observation about her husband having a particular interest in education and that he had aspirations to be appointed to the Education Committee alongside Councillor Peterson. Of course, it was no surprise that it hadn't been long before
that
councillor was poking his fat finger into this particular pie.

County Councillor George Peterson was an insufferably garrulous and self-opinionated man who, on the several occasions we had met, had always succeeded in really irritating me with his sarcastic comments, tasteless observations and vacuous views. If I saw his barrel-bodied figure striding down the top corridor at County Hall, or if I caught sight of the ponderous, fleshy face, the huge bull neck with folds which overlapped the top of his collar and the mop of unnaturally black hair appearing around a corner in Fettlesham High Street or if I heard his unmistakably bombastic voice issuing forth from one of the committee rooms, I did a fast disappearing act.

We had had a number of skirmishes, the most significant of which was when, as a member of an Education Committee, he had been in the vanguard in trying to close Hawksrill Primary School. Christine had been extremely active with the pressure group to stop the closure and had tackled Councillor Peterson at the various consultation meetings. Councillor Peterson had collared me at County Hall and had warned me: ‘You should per'aps 'ave a quiet word with your wife and tell 'er to go easy' – advice which I had diligently ignored. So the name Phinn was not one for which he had a great deal of time. Now, as I guessed, he would eventually have his sights firmly trained on me.

‘Councillor Peterson?' I said. ‘So he's involved, is he?'

‘Yes, I'm afraid he has seen fit to take up the matter,' Miss de la Mare replied, shaking her head. ‘Now,' she said, reaching for a substantial file, ‘I do not intend to take any sort of action until I am acquainted with all the facts. I have the school report here and need to check on a few things.' I prepared myself for the worst. ‘So what can you tell me about Mr Hornchurch at Tarncliffe Primary School?' she asked.

‘Tarncliffe!' I exclaimed. ‘Is this about Tarncliffe?'

‘Yes, it is,' the Chief Inspector replied, appearing startled by my outburst. ‘There has been a serious complaint about a teacher at the school called Mr Hornchurch. I believe you have seen this young man teach on a number of occasions, a teacher whom you rate, according to this report, very highly.'

I had geared myself up to discuss Ugglemattersby and was so taken by surprise that I was lost for words. Another of David's
bons mots
suddenly came to mind. ‘In this job,' he told me when I had first started as a school inspector, ‘you expect a bullet from one direction, you steel yourself for the impact, mentally prepare for it, and then, out of the blue, it comes up from behind and hits you smack in the back.'

‘Gervase?'

‘Ah yes,' I said. ‘Er – er – Mr Hornchurch?'

‘What can you tell me about him?' asked Miss de la Mare.

‘Well, let's see,' I said, trying to re-focus my thoughts. ‘Um – he's an unusual man in many ways, but a real enthusiast. He's keen, hard-working, spends many hours outside school time, organises trips, coaches the football team, conducts the choir, runs an astronomy club, quite apart from being a very good practitioner. I think you'll find details of the outstanding results his class achieves in my report. He's just a bit unconventional, that's all. I did have occasion to see Dr Yeats about him because he's, well, rather different from your run-of-the-mill teacher.'

‘And what did Dr Yeats say?' asked Miss de la Mare.

‘As I recall, I think he said Mr Hornchurch was a successful deviant – deviant in the sense of diverging from accepted standards of behaviour – and that education would be a dull
business if teachers were all the same. He said there is a place in education for the teacher who is a bit out of kilter and that the teachers we tend to remember most from our own schooldays were the ones who were rather different.'

‘And how is Mr Hornchurch different?' enquired Miss de la Mare, staring at me intently.

‘He's idiosyncratic,' I said. ‘He's untidy, dresses like a down-at-heel student and his classroom looks as if a hurricane has hit it.' As I said this, I recalled the man in question – tall, pale-faced, with an explosion of wild, woolly hair and a permanently startled expression, dressed in faded denim jeans, old trainers and a T-shirt with ‘PEACE' splashed across the front.

I decided not to tell the Chief Inspector about Mr Horn-church's unique teaching methods that I had witnessed on that specific visit. He had sat cross-legged on his desk, with a cardboard box on his head. His face peered out of a large hole in the front, and this was, he explained, to simulate a television set. He then proceeded to tell the children a story, and I have rarely seen a class of children so engrossed.

‘When I visited Tarncliffe, I found his lesson plans were disorganised, his planning virtually non-existent and the record system was so incomprehensible a code-cracker wouldn't have stood a chance. But I must add that the quality of the pupils' work was of the very best, the progress the children made under him was excellent and his teaching was first class.'

‘The proof of the pudding,' murmured Miss de la Mare.

‘In fact,' I said, ‘he seemed to me to be the sort of teacher you once described when you were HMI, speaking at a meeting in this very room. If my memory serves me right, you said that what all outstanding teachers had in common was their enthusiasm for learning and a desire to help their students appreciate and explore the subjects they taught more profoundly. I think Mr Hornchurch does just this.'

‘And his relationship with the children?' she asked.

‘Very good,' I replied. ‘So what's this all about?'

Miss de la Mare stared out of the window and thought for a moment and then glanced down at a sheet of paper before her.
‘A parent of a child in Mr Hornchurch's class has complained to Councillor Peterson that his daughter's teacher uses bad language in the classroom. The parent owns a building firm, NBG Construction, on which Councillor Peterson is a non-executive director, and he mentioned it to him.'

‘Bad language?' I repeated.

‘Yes,' replied the Chief Inspector. ‘But there is more to it than that. This parent was in a public house and was apparently telling all and sundry about this long-haired, hippy person who teaches his daughter, who swore like a trooper and how he had made a formal complaint. As chance would have it, a reporter from the
Fettlesham Gazette
overheard the conversation, and is writing an article based upon this overheard discussion about the decline in standards in schools, teachers using bad language and so forth, which will appear in next Friday's newspaper. The Editor of the
Gazette
contacted Dr Gore yesterday for a comment, hence the panic at County Hall. The Chief Education Officer, understandably, does not like negative publicity, particularly when there is a strong possibility that the county will shortly be getting a visit from the Minister for Education and Science.'