Studs and Stilettos

Lesson 13 - never ever upset the Headmaster's wife

Bebop Deluxe is the only car in the pitch-dark car park. Everyone else has gone home – or to the pub. If only I had decided not to be so effing friendly with the parents of Josiah Wormwood. The relief of getting through all those appointments and the thought of my hot bath, a glass of anything laced with ethanol and bed made me a tad enthusiastic. Little did I know that Mrs Wormwood was chairwoman of the governors or that her son JoJo had taken a shine to me and thought that my teaching was the best in the whole school. That woman could talk for England and I know she was just waiting at my desk, killing time ready to pounce on old McCloudy who was having an intense debate with another rugger freak on the forthcoming Daily Explorer cup final and the school's chances against the evil opposition.

Beebop isn't looking too well – she never is – as I wiggle the key in the lock and hurl my bag into the rear then flop gratefully onto her malformed springy seat exhaling deeply as I rest my weary forehead on the steering wheel.

Suddenly the passenger door is wrenched open and with an overpowering stench of Chanel No 55, Anneliese materialises next to me, eyeballs only inches from my own.

'Finally! I've managed to track you down. You are very elusive... or perhaps you've been avoiding me.'

'I.....'

I never get to finish the 'I' sentence because Anneliese is in charge of the air time and she's not letting me have any. At this rate we will run out of oxygen in this confined space and be found suffocated in the morning like a pair of lesbians on a suicide tryst.

'Are you listening?' Anneliese's tone is the staccato of machine gun rattle.

I have no idea what she is saying, the adrenaline rush from her unannounced pounce is still working through my system and hasn't yet reached my brain.

'Sorry...I...it's been a long day' (and night) 'but...but I've been meaning to apologise for being so rude about Mr McCloudy. I know that Doris has only admiration and respect for him: he is a fantastic leader of the school and I realise his true passion is only for the game of rugby.'

I hope this garbled wordy mumbo jumbo apology will suffice so that Anneliese will get out of my car and bugger off home.

Anneliese sits bolt upright.

'What are you talking about? What has this got to do with my half-wit of a husband?'

'But...but...that's why I thought you wanted to see me....because I made some rather unfortunate and off-the-cuff remarks about Mr McCloudy the other day.'

'Pah! Murdo is a complete arse. He hasn't the faintest clue about women. All those photos on his desk are his daughters, three from marriage number one to the delinquent Daphne and two beauties from me - the even more delinquent one for contemplating a union with a rugby obsessed, kilt wearing eccentric. No...I'm moving on in the world and I need your help.'

'Me? What can I do?'

'I just explained. Don't you ever listen? You seem remarkably unreliable and you've only been here two weeks. I would have thought you'd have made a bit of effort to impress in a new and prestigious school but unfortunately I haven't seen any evidence of it yet.'

Anneliese is now on my list of people to hate. I can feel the hairs on my neck pulling up a good few inches and my jaw is clamped – always a bad sign. Time to put away the timid me and get out the rottweiler.

'What exactly do you want? I've had a long evening, no sleep and I am not in the mood to sit in this rather cold car park with you talking in riddles.'

Anneliese turns coldly and stares me full in the face, her complexion of pale orange neon light exaggerating the dark brown circles of her eyes.

'I need you to get me something from the Chemistry prep room.'