Free 02 Mister Teacher by Jack Sheffield

thrusting his book towards me. ‘Ah know where ah went wrong.’
    I looked at his book. Tony had crossed out ‘six’ and changed it to ‘eight’.
    Teaching might not be well paid, I thought, with a smile. But it has its compensations.
    During morning break I joined Vera, Jo and Sally in the staff-room. Anne was on playground duty. Vera was scanning the local newspaper and studying a large photograph of Virginia Wade, who was consoling a heartbroken Sue Barker following her crushing fifty-five-minute defeat by Chris Evert in the Wightman Cup.
    ‘What a shame for Sue Barker,’ said Vera. ‘It’s about time she found a nice young man.’
    ‘That’s just what I need,’ retorted Sally, who frequently complained about the boring life she spent with her husband.
    ‘What time does
Superman
start, please, Vera?’ asked Jo, showing sudden interest in the newspaper. ‘I’m going tonight with Dan.’
    ‘Oh to be Lois Lane, just for this weekend,’ said Sally. She gave a sigh. ‘Christopher Reeve is gorgeous.’
    ‘I’ve got my own “Man of Steel”,’ said Jo, with a grin.
    ‘Lucky you,’ said Sally. ‘Meanwhile, I’m stuck at home with boring Clark Kent.’
    ‘Oh no,’ said Vera. ‘Look who’s coming up the drive.’
    ‘It’s Ragley’s Lex Luther,’ said Sally, hastily finishing her coffee. ‘Good luck, Jack.’
    I looked out of the staff-room window. A mud-splattered Land Rover I recognized was bouncing up the drive.
    Stan Coe never wasted words. He stood in the car park, a thick polo-neck jumper stretched over his huge belly, his wellington boots coated in mud and manure.
    ‘Ah’ll keep this short,’ he said, his yellow and brown teeth almost grinding in anger. ‘Some money’s gone missin’ from our ’ouse. It were a ten-poun’ note on m’table jus’ inside t’front door an’ it’s been tekken.’
    ‘Why are you telling me, Mr Coe?’ I asked.
    ‘’Cause it’s one o’ your kids ’as tekken it!’ he shouted. ‘Name o’ Paxton.’
    ‘Surely not, Mr Coe,’ I said. ‘l can’t imagine little Molly Paxton taking money. How did she get in your house?’
    ‘She came in wi’ that great useless lump of a father this morning. ’E came t’price up a job f’me. Told ’im it were daylight robbery and t’sling ’is ’ook. Little girl were just inside t’door. She must ’ave tekken it then.’
    I realized that, although his allegation sounded unlikely, I would have to investigate. ‘You had better come into school, Mr Coe,’ I said. ‘And please take your boots off first.’
    ‘Let’s get on wi’ it, then,’ said Stan, angrily kicking off his wellingtons. ‘Ah’ve already telephoned ’er mother an’ told ’er ah want me money back an’ she says she’s comin’ ’ere. An’ ah’ve called t’police an’ they’re sending someone round.’
    Suddenly, this was becoming serious.
    ‘You should have come to me first, Mr Coe,’ I said.
    ‘Nay, ah want ’em punished. It’s thievin’ is this. An’ m’next call will be t’newspaper.’
    The thought of a case like this in the local
Easington Herald & Pioneer
didn’t bear thinking about.
    I left Stan Coe in the entrance hall while I went into the staff-room. Anne and Vera looked up anxiously. Anne, in her usual unflustered style, immediately grasped the situation.
    ‘Vera, please will you go to the school gate and wait for Mrs Paxton?’ said Anne. ‘When she arrives, bring her in the side entrance to my classroom. I’ll go and find Molly. We need her mother present when we talk to her. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.’
    This seemed to make sense.
    ‘I’ll take Stan Coe into the office and wait for the police,’ I said.
    Minutes later, much to my relief, it was PC Dan Hunter who walked in. I noted his new professional demeanour: he was on duty and it showed.
    He took a black ball-point and new-looking notebook from his breast pocket. ‘Now, Mr Coe,’ said Dan, ‘what seems to be the