children than he did about his own. So the chance to work locally seemed too good to be true.
But … it was one thing being that rare beast – a black Head Teacher – in the inner city; it was quite another out in the sticks. Daniel was used to being one of the few black faces he saw every day in Abinger Lea, but would the parents at his new school accept him? And would the staff? The governors had given him the heads-up that his deputy, Jim Ferguson, had been certain Daniel’s job would be his. There was bound to be resentment, particularly if they disagreed on the running of the school, which after a couple of short meetings with his staff team, Daniel felt sure was likely. From what little he’d seen, Jim Ferguson was a yes-man, who liked to keep wheels well oiled. He was a capable administrator, but an uncharismatic teacher. People respected him, but they didn’t like him. It was why he hadn’t got the job.
‘This school needs new blood,’ Sarah Bellows, the Chair of Governors, had told him. ‘It’s doing well, but it could do better. It needs strong leadership and an inspiring educator in charge. We believe that’s what you can offer us.’
That, and the chance to bring the school up from Good to Outstanding in their next Ofsted report, which was due to happen some time in the spring term. Daniel was under no illusions that inspiring educator or not, the bottom line was they wanted better results. If he failed to deliver, they’d probably revert to Plan B and Jim Ferguson would get the job he craved. In the meantime, Daniel had to find a way of trying to bring him onside. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be easy, a feeling that was confirmed when Jim arrived late at the staff meeting. It was a getting-to-know-you session, which Jim was supposed to be chairing. The fact that he couldn’t be bothered to turn up on time didn’t bode well. He didn’t seem impressed when Daniel outlined a few of his ideas about how to improve staff morale by using their freedom as an Academy to invest in proper pay structures, and allow younger teachers to see that there’d be opportunities for advancement if they worked hard. He also rolled his eyes when Daniel began to talk about setting higher standards of uniform conformity. He’d been horrified on a visit in the summer to see how lax the staff had been in implementing many of the school rules. He wanted to use his new role to ensure the students took the greatest pride in themselves and their school by giving them more responsibility for helping keep it tidy.
‘With all due respect, Head Teacher,’ said Jim, managing to make his title sound like an insult while smiling at him, ‘I think you’ll find morale at this school is very high, and that the students already take pride in their environment. I’m afraid you’ll find there’s very little to improve in that regard.’
‘It can’t hurt to take a look at it though, can it, Jim?’ Daniel said. ‘And please, no formalities, do call me Daniel.’
If there was one thing Daniel hated it was unnecessary bowing down to hierarchies. He had a feeling that Jim would see it differently.
‘Of course, Daniel,’ said Jim, with a smirk, managing again to make it sound sarcastic.
Unwilling to get into an awkward discussion on his first day, Daniel moved on, and by the end of the meeting felt he hadn’t acquitted himself too badly. It was clear that one or two members of staff were definitely Team Ferguson, but Carrie Woodall, Head of Maths, sidled up to him after the meeting and muttered, ‘Welcome on board, and don’t take any notice of Jim – he always likes to throw his weight around.’ Daniel smiled politely, but didn’t comment. It was good to know he had supporters though. Determined not to let Jim’s negative attitude ruin his day, he spent the rest of it trying to get a handle on what the job entailed. It was busy and exhausting, but by the end of it he felt exhilarated. The kids were nice and polite, the teachers, in the main, friendly, and even if he worked late, he lived a mere twenty minutes from home. More time with Beth. More time with the kids. Despite any difficulties that might lie ahead, this had been a good move.
*
Christmas Day
Beth
‘Merry Christmas.’
‘Bleugh.’ I awake gingerly, my head hammering from a combination of too much wine and not enough sleep, to see Daniel enter our bedroom bearing a tray with two glasses of fizz, and scrambled egg and salmon for breakfast. ‘Is it time to get up already?’
‘Afraid so, but I thought after the night you’ve had you deserved breakfast in bed.’
Although I could really do with staying in bed several hours longer, I’m touched by his thoughtfulness. I had hoped to be up and about early on Christmas morning, but thanks to Sam choosing last night to get spectacularly drunk I’ve barely slept. He’s started going out a lot more recently, and I’m struggling to get used to the nights of sitting up worrying where he is. Daniel tells me not to fret so much and tells me he’s just being a teenager, but it’s not easy. And last night, despite promising to be in by midnight, Sam finally staggered home at 3 a.m., having lost his iPhone in a nightclub, and promptly threw up everywhere. I hadn’t been able to sleep for worrying, and I came downstairs to find him lying with his arms wrapped round the base of the toilet bowl. I couldn’t get him upstairs so I ended up sitting up for the rest of the night, checking on him intermittently. I’ve only been back in bed for a couple of hours.
‘And this is for you,’ Daniel says with a flourish, handing me a present.
‘This doesn’t look much like a puppy,’ I say in mock disappointment. I’ve always wanted a dog, thinking it would be romantic to go for long walks together in the country, but Daniel can’t stand the idea. It’s been a standing joke with us for years that he’s going to buy me a puppy for Christmas. I know he never will.
‘Next year,’ he grins, giving me a kiss. ‘Anyway, I think you’ll like this more.’
I do like it. Daniel has thoughtfully bought me a set of paints and paper, and some lovely new pencils. He knows I’m still struggling with the book I’ve been working on all year.
‘Thought they might help boost the creativity,’ he says, as I lean over to kiss him.
‘Thank you, they’re perfect,’ I say. ‘And so are you.’
We stay together for several minutes in a cosy embrace, before Daniel says, ‘Breakfast?’ and I tuck into the scrambled eggs. The bed is so warm and comfy. I sigh, wishing once again we could stay at home this year. But no chance of that of course, so after breakfast, I go to call Megan and Sam, neither of whom want to move. They’re still not out of bed by the time Daniel and I have showered and dressed. We look at each other wryly. Time was when they’d have been up for hours by now, and we would be at the end of our tether. How life has changed.
Eventually we manage to bully them to get up, and we have just enough time to open a few presents, before chivvying them off to get ready to go to my parents’. Relaxing it’s not. One day I’ll manage to get the Christmas I want. One day …
Finally we load ourselves and several bags of presents into the car, with Megan whinging about wanting a lie-in, and Sam sitting in moody silence. His eyes are red and bloodshot from whatever poisons he thrust down his throat last night. I’m beyond cross with him, but it’s Christmas, so I’m determined to be cheerful. I put some Christmassy tunes on, but Sam moans that they’re making his head hurt. I heroically manage to restrain myself from snapping whose fault is that then? I feel that would be distinctly lacking in Christmas cheer.
Fortunately the drive is a short one, and while Daniel parks the car, the rest of us stagger into
