I thought that she was in the outdoor area working with Miss Sugarsprinkles.  Miss Sugarsprinkles thought she was in the classroom, working with me.  So, we instituted a search.  Not in the toilets.  Not in the Welfare Room.  Not in the Office.

At last I found her; huddled in the corner of the small resources room: headphones in ears, gum in mouth, mobile in hand.

She shrugged.   “Those f*cking kids are doing me ‘ead in.”

“Then perhaps,” I suggested, “a career in education is not for you.  I’ll ring your tutor.”

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