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Ava drew herself up tall. “Then I shall know for next time,” she said coolly. “In the meantime, what do you suggest I do about the mess?”
Hope shook her head. “I don’t know where you’re from, but it’s obviously some kind of clown town. And then someone else has to clean up after you.”
“I’ve been cleaning up after your cat for the last week,” Ava pointed out.
“And this is payback?” asked Hope. “Come on, we need to get the kids’ PE stuff otherwise they’ll be running riot half-naked back there.”
She marched off down the corridor, letting Ava Stanford follow behind, still shaking her head at the idiocy of the woman. Seriously, what kind of teacher lets their kids loose with paints?
But she was nowhere near as angry as she got when she opened the classroom door and saw the state of the room.
“Do you have any control at all of these children?” she said, turning to Ava in disbelief.
“Of course.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like it,” Hope said. “This is unbelievable.”
“There’s been a misunderstanding,” said Ava. “I don’t teach young children.”
“You shouldn’t teach young children by the looks of this.” Hope stared around and then came to a decision. “Alright, there’s no point crying over spilled milk. You get the PE kits back to the kids, get them dressed up and then take them outside and do PE out there. You’re lucky the sun’s shining. While you’re doing that, I’ll get in here cleaned up so you have a classroom to come back to.”
There was a slight pause. “Thank you,” Ava said eventually. She said it as though it hurt.
Hope rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’ve got much choice,” she said. “And after that, I’ll prepare a note for the kids to take home explaining about their clothes. At least it’s all washable paint, it should all come out.”
“Right,” Ava said.
Hope turned to her. She didn’t look so high and mighty now, did she? Not now that she was the one in the wrong. How a teacher could let a class get so out of control was beyond Hope. But then, maybe Ava Stanford wasn’t the brilliant teacher she’d been made out to be.
Maybe she was a fraud.
And Hope wasn’t planning to pick up the slack for her. The woman was arrogant and irritating, and if she was going to put herself in a position to get fired, well, Hope wasn’t going to stop her. The sooner Ava Stanford was gone from the school and from next door, the happier and quieter life would be.
They could always get a supply teacher to cover the class. She was sure they’d find someone.
“Er, thank you,” Ava said again. Her green eyes were sparkling and Hope wasn’t sure if she was angry or about to cry.
“Just get those gym clothes to the kids,” she said. “And then get out of my way so I can deal with the mess you’ve created.”
ALICE HAD GONE home with Clara Buxton with promises that she’d be well-behaved and she wouldn’t complain when Hope came to pick her up for tea at home. Which left Hope slowly cleaning up her desk and getting ready to go home for a nice quiet coffee with her mum before resuming parenting duties.
To be honest, she thought she deserved a nice slice of cake to go with the coffee after the day she’d had. It had taken an hour and a half to get Ava Stanford’s classroom into a presentable state again, even with Amy Littleton helping out at break-time.
She was exhausted and not at all in the mood for staying on after school when Jake Lowell cornered her in her office.
“Hope.”
“Jake.”
He scratched his head. “We’ve got a problem.”
“Is that problem called Ava Stanford?”
“Yes,” he said, honestly. “There’s been a bit of a misunderstanding, you see.”
“I know, she’s a secondary school teacher, not a primary school one. You called this teaching exchange program place, I suppose?”
He nodded. “That’s just it though. They don’t have anyone else to send us. Oh, they apologized profusely, though they pointed out that Stanford’s completely qualified to be here, just inexperienced. But in the end, their positions are all happily filled and there’s nothing they can do for us until the next influx of teachers, which won’t be until next school year.”
