mean, small and local – a different world from here.’
‘But maybe a change wouldn’t be such a bad thing?’ Jack ventured.
‘I guess so. I’ll do some more research next week. Now, let’s talk about you for once,’ I said. ‘How’s work at the moment?’
‘Really good, actually. The funders liked the storyboard we put together for
LoveKatz
. You know, the one I told you about? Cats meet robots, and battle to form a new world order?’
‘How could I forget? That’s fantastic.’
‘Hope we get it,’ he said, drinking more of his beer. ‘Morale is low at the studio, and we need a fresh project. It’ll probably mean some long hours, getting the full pitch ready – don’t know how that will be with the new commute, but maybe I’ll be able to do some stuff on the train first thing in the morning.’
Jack wasn’t exactly the earliest riser, or the brightest when he did get up. Seemed like we’d both be making a few changes in our lives.
‘You’ll manage.’ I said. ‘I know you will.’
‘In other news, it’s just two weeks,’ Jack said, a mischievous glint in his eye, ‘until the big—’
‘Don’t say it,’ I said, smiling and covering my ears and starting to hum loudly. ‘I don’t want to hear it.’
‘Three-O,’ he mouthed.
‘Argh! I hate it that you are, and will always be, younger than me.’
‘It’s only six months. I can’t get too cocky really. Now, what are we going to do to celebrate?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, wrinkling my nose. ‘Maybe have a few people here? Reserve a corner of the pub?’
‘Cool. Leave it with me.’ Jack winked. ‘I’ll make sure you have a great night.’
‘You sound a bit saucy when you say that, you know.’
‘Good,’ he said, leaning across the table to kiss me.
*
I took a day off school on Friday. OK, I took a sickie. In all my time teaching I’d never once done it – and while I felt guilty at first, by the time I’d driven to the outskirts of London that guilt was replaced by a feeling of liberation.
On Monday evening I’d sat down at our kitchen table with my iPad and scanned the
TES
online site for job ads. Then, finding nothing, I’d looked again at the schools close to Arcadia Cottage. There were no secondary schools in Chilham itself but a few nearby, including a couple in Canterbury. I browsed the pages and tried to picture myself working in one of them. They all looked so
calm
.
While I couldn’t see any vacancies advertised, I reasonedthat perhaps they’d be open to me coming in in person to discuss opportunities. I took a note of the headteachers’ email addresses and drafted an email introducing myself and outlining my experience.
By Wednesday I’d received two replies inviting me in. Carly was right – there were other schools out there, and they might actually suit me better.
I couldn’t resist driving up to Chilham on my way over to the schools. The village was just as quaint as I’d remembered it, with a bustling local tea shop and Tudor buildings overlooking the central square. I felt a tingle of excitement – with any luck, this place could be our new home.
I drove on towards the first school, Woodlands Secondary, on the outskirts of Canterbury, and parked. The three-storey Victorian building was surrounded by green space, with a generous playground and a basketball court. Straightening my white blouse, I opened the school gate and walked through – there was no metal-detection arch here. As I passed through the corridor I could hear chatter and bustle in the classrooms, but it was calm and upbeat, with no shouting. I peeked through a window and enviously watched as a teacher spoke with two dozen pairs of eyes on her attentively, the students’ books open on their desk.
I knocked on the headteacher’s door, and got a cheerful reply almost immediately. ‘Come in.’
Standing by her shelves with a book in her hands was awoman of around fifty with pale gold hair, wearing a smart navy
‘But maybe a change wouldn’t be such a bad thing?’ Jack ventured.
‘I guess so. I’ll do some more research next week. Now, let’s talk about you for once,’ I said. ‘How’s work at the moment?’
‘Really good, actually. The funders liked the storyboard we put together for
LoveKatz
. You know, the one I told you about? Cats meet robots, and battle to form a new world order?’
‘How could I forget? That’s fantastic.’
‘Hope we get it,’ he said, drinking more of his beer. ‘Morale is low at the studio, and we need a fresh project. It’ll probably mean some long hours, getting the full pitch ready – don’t know how that will be with the new commute, but maybe I’ll be able to do some stuff on the train first thing in the morning.’
Jack wasn’t exactly the earliest riser, or the brightest when he did get up. Seemed like we’d both be making a few changes in our lives.
‘You’ll manage.’ I said. ‘I know you will.’
‘In other news, it’s just two weeks,’ Jack said, a mischievous glint in his eye, ‘until the big—’
‘Don’t say it,’ I said, smiling and covering my ears and starting to hum loudly. ‘I don’t want to hear it.’
‘Three-O,’ he mouthed.
‘Argh! I hate it that you are, and will always be, younger than me.’
‘It’s only six months. I can’t get too cocky really. Now, what are we going to do to celebrate?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, wrinkling my nose. ‘Maybe have a few people here? Reserve a corner of the pub?’
‘Cool. Leave it with me.’ Jack winked. ‘I’ll make sure you have a great night.’
‘You sound a bit saucy when you say that, you know.’
‘Good,’ he said, leaning across the table to kiss me.
*
I took a day off school on Friday. OK, I took a sickie. In all my time teaching I’d never once done it – and while I felt guilty at first, by the time I’d driven to the outskirts of London that guilt was replaced by a feeling of liberation.
On Monday evening I’d sat down at our kitchen table with my iPad and scanned the
TES
online site for job ads. Then, finding nothing, I’d looked again at the schools close to Arcadia Cottage. There were no secondary schools in Chilham itself but a few nearby, including a couple in Canterbury. I browsed the pages and tried to picture myself working in one of them. They all looked so
calm
.
While I couldn’t see any vacancies advertised, I reasonedthat perhaps they’d be open to me coming in in person to discuss opportunities. I took a note of the headteachers’ email addresses and drafted an email introducing myself and outlining my experience.
By Wednesday I’d received two replies inviting me in. Carly was right – there were other schools out there, and they might actually suit me better.
I couldn’t resist driving up to Chilham on my way over to the schools. The village was just as quaint as I’d remembered it, with a bustling local tea shop and Tudor buildings overlooking the central square. I felt a tingle of excitement – with any luck, this place could be our new home.
I drove on towards the first school, Woodlands Secondary, on the outskirts of Canterbury, and parked. The three-storey Victorian building was surrounded by green space, with a generous playground and a basketball court. Straightening my white blouse, I opened the school gate and walked through – there was no metal-detection arch here. As I passed through the corridor I could hear chatter and bustle in the classrooms, but it was calm and upbeat, with no shouting. I peeked through a window and enviously watched as a teacher spoke with two dozen pairs of eyes on her attentively, the students’ books open on their desk.
I knocked on the headteacher’s door, and got a cheerful reply almost immediately. ‘Come in.’
Standing by her shelves with a book in her hands was awoman of around fifty with pale gold hair, wearing a smart navy
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