expect,’ she said to Gwen. ‘Soon sort her out.’
To Gwen’s relief most of her class were still seated at their desks. One or two were in a huddle round Lucy Fernandez, but the others all looked frightened.
‘Out of the way! Sit down! How dare you block the aisle?’ Miss Monk roared at them. She cuffed one of the boys round the ear as he moved away, then stood looking down at Lucy. Peering over her shoulder, Gwen saw that the child’s face had returned to a more normal colour, but she was still convulsed, her body in spasm.
‘Hmm. Seems genuine,’ Miss Monk acknowledged grudgingly. ‘Need to get something in their mouths, stop them swallowing their tongues. Give me that rule.’
Taking the ruler which Gwen used to point at the blackboard, Miss Monk squatted down, flustered, a lock of hair working itself loose from her bun and hanging over one ear. She rammed the edge of the ruler between Lucy Fernandez’s lips, forcing it back as if she was taming a horse to accept a bit. Gwen winced.
‘Is that really necessary?’
Miss Monk’s brawny complexion turned even redder. ‘Are you questioning my judgement, Miss Purdy?’
‘No, but . . .’
‘Did you, or did you not, ask for my help?’
‘Yes,’ Gwen agreed. She clenched her hands to stop herself pulling Miss Monk away. To her relief she saw that Lucy Fernandez was beginning to lie still, her muscles more relaxed, but then she saw a pool of liquid spreading out from under her. Miss Monk noticed it a few seconds after and recoiled in disgust, backing away from Lucy’s prone body.
‘She’s wee’d herself,’ Gwen heard one of the children whisper.
‘Oh, really ,’ Miss Monk exclaimed. ‘Filthy little beggar!’ She stood up, and to Gwen’s horror swung her leg, and with her flat, brown shoe delivered a hard kick into the small of Lucy Fernandez’s back. The child let out a grunt, as if air had been expelled from her lungs. Gwen gasped.
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing ?’ she burst out. ‘I don’t think that was necessary, was it?’
Miss Monk looked as if she was going to explode. She seized Gwen’s wrist.
‘Come with me, Miss Purdy.’
She forced Gwen out into the hall.
‘I’ll thank you not to question my judgement, Miss Purdy . Especially in front of a class of children. What do you know? Coming in here all dressed up like a fourpenny rabbit! You’ve only been a teacher for five minutes and don’t you forget it. It was no more than she deserved.’ Her face twisted with disgust. ‘Trying it on like that. Messing on the floor.’ She went to go back into the class, but turned for a second. ‘You needn’t go running to Mr Lowry. He’d never believe you.’
She marched back into the room.
‘Go and fetch a mop,’ she ordered a plump boy, Kenny Campbell. ‘And hurry up about it! Miss Purdy, make that girl get up now and stop malingering. That’s quite enough!’
Gwen was trembling with shock and rage, though she tried not to let the class see. Once Miss Monk had swept out of the room, she took a deep, emotional breath. She was appalled by what she had just witnessed. She had never before seen a teacher treat a child with uncontrolled viciousness. For a second she felt violently homesick for her old school, with its homely ways, and Edwin popping in from the church to help with assemblies. But she became aware of her class watching all this in cowed silence and tried to compose herself.
‘We must look after Lucy,’ she said, and was surprised she could sound so calm. Avoiding the pool of urine, she went to kneel beside the girl, laying a hand on her head. Lucy’s hair felt thick and wiry. She was lying still and appeared to be asleep, her pale face composed. She was not as strikingly pretty as Rosa, the sister who had brought her to school, but the slender line of her cheeks, her almost translucent skin and, when they were open, large dark eyes, combined to give her face an overall sweetness, and Gwen felt
To Gwen’s relief most of her class were still seated at their desks. One or two were in a huddle round Lucy Fernandez, but the others all looked frightened.
‘Out of the way! Sit down! How dare you block the aisle?’ Miss Monk roared at them. She cuffed one of the boys round the ear as he moved away, then stood looking down at Lucy. Peering over her shoulder, Gwen saw that the child’s face had returned to a more normal colour, but she was still convulsed, her body in spasm.
‘Hmm. Seems genuine,’ Miss Monk acknowledged grudgingly. ‘Need to get something in their mouths, stop them swallowing their tongues. Give me that rule.’
Taking the ruler which Gwen used to point at the blackboard, Miss Monk squatted down, flustered, a lock of hair working itself loose from her bun and hanging over one ear. She rammed the edge of the ruler between Lucy Fernandez’s lips, forcing it back as if she was taming a horse to accept a bit. Gwen winced.
‘Is that really necessary?’
Miss Monk’s brawny complexion turned even redder. ‘Are you questioning my judgement, Miss Purdy?’
‘No, but . . .’
‘Did you, or did you not, ask for my help?’
‘Yes,’ Gwen agreed. She clenched her hands to stop herself pulling Miss Monk away. To her relief she saw that Lucy Fernandez was beginning to lie still, her muscles more relaxed, but then she saw a pool of liquid spreading out from under her. Miss Monk noticed it a few seconds after and recoiled in disgust, backing away from Lucy’s prone body.
‘She’s wee’d herself,’ Gwen heard one of the children whisper.
‘Oh, really ,’ Miss Monk exclaimed. ‘Filthy little beggar!’ She stood up, and to Gwen’s horror swung her leg, and with her flat, brown shoe delivered a hard kick into the small of Lucy Fernandez’s back. The child let out a grunt, as if air had been expelled from her lungs. Gwen gasped.
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing ?’ she burst out. ‘I don’t think that was necessary, was it?’
Miss Monk looked as if she was going to explode. She seized Gwen’s wrist.
‘Come with me, Miss Purdy.’
She forced Gwen out into the hall.
‘I’ll thank you not to question my judgement, Miss Purdy . Especially in front of a class of children. What do you know? Coming in here all dressed up like a fourpenny rabbit! You’ve only been a teacher for five minutes and don’t you forget it. It was no more than she deserved.’ Her face twisted with disgust. ‘Trying it on like that. Messing on the floor.’ She went to go back into the class, but turned for a second. ‘You needn’t go running to Mr Lowry. He’d never believe you.’
She marched back into the room.
‘Go and fetch a mop,’ she ordered a plump boy, Kenny Campbell. ‘And hurry up about it! Miss Purdy, make that girl get up now and stop malingering. That’s quite enough!’
Gwen was trembling with shock and rage, though she tried not to let the class see. Once Miss Monk had swept out of the room, she took a deep, emotional breath. She was appalled by what she had just witnessed. She had never before seen a teacher treat a child with uncontrolled viciousness. For a second she felt violently homesick for her old school, with its homely ways, and Edwin popping in from the church to help with assemblies. But she became aware of her class watching all this in cowed silence and tried to compose herself.
‘We must look after Lucy,’ she said, and was surprised she could sound so calm. Avoiding the pool of urine, she went to kneel beside the girl, laying a hand on her head. Lucy’s hair felt thick and wiry. She was lying still and appeared to be asleep, her pale face composed. She was not as strikingly pretty as Rosa, the sister who had brought her to school, but the slender line of her cheeks, her almost translucent skin and, when they were open, large dark eyes, combined to give her face an overall sweetness, and Gwen felt
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