Goodbye Mr Curry and Chips
Ages 16+
A short story based on real characters and real happenings - to a point!
It took just the first few weeks of September for the staff of
“Can’t see what the problem is, I suppose you stiffs would rather I brought in roast beef and
“Taste buds? You have taste buds then have you? It’s a pity you don’t seem to have a sense of smell to go with them!” Mrs Parkin responded, bringing murmurs of, “Well said, Dorothy,” from the rest of the staff.
“Ooo, careful, Dotty, you’re waking the dead!”
“I don’t think we need that kind of…” Mr Simpson began as he started to get to his feet but he fell quiet and sat down again as the staffroom door opened and in walked the Headteacher, Mrs Turner.
“Good, I see we’re all assembled. Now… moderation of writing, boys toilets and Christmas concert.”
Pike looked across at Mr Simpson and raised the left corner of his lips in a sneering smile and then offered, “I don’t mind moderating the writing but I think Mr Simpson might be best suited to boys toilets.”
Mr Simpson’s face reddened but he hadn’t the chance to respond as the Head suddenly burst into a peel of laughter and leaned forward to smack Pikes thigh whilst the rest of the staff exchanged startled glances.
“Very good, Richard, very good. But now let us get on with today's business. I would like each year group's moderated examples of pupils work to my room by Friday afternoon please.”
Mrs Turner had been told of their feelings on several occasions and by several of the staff. Parents had also started to complain after their children had arrived home in tears from his sarcastic berating. He ignored large areas of the syllabus in preference to his favoured subjects of Drama and Art; subjects that required little or no formal marking. And seemingly the Head took little or no notice and even decided that his artistic leanings were perfectly suited to organising the Christmas concert instead of Mr Simpson.
“But you always help me with the concert, David,” Miss Andrews sympathised when Mr Simpson, still red with anger after having the news broken to him by Pike, stormed into her room.
“That bloody woman! I’m sorry, Wendy, but having that weaselling excuse of a teacher snigger as he tells me, “I’m doing the concert and you’re not,” like a spoilt brat has made me extremely angry. And that Mrs Turner has not had the good grace to tell me herself is totally unprofessional.”
“Well she hasn’t told me either and I suppose she’s expecting me to get the choir ready and to sort out the music for him… well I think I might have something to say about that!”
She didn’t have much time to think about her words for no sooner was Mr Simpson out of her room when in strutted Pike from his room next door.
“I won’t be needing you for the concert this year, Wends, I’ve decided to bring the whole Christmas thing up to date so you can relax and enjoy it for a change.”
“I usually do enjoy it,” Miss Andrews answered, keeping her voice level and calm despite her growing anger, “But what exactly are you planning to do?”
Pike smirked, but instead of answering he merely tapped his nose and shook his head before turning and sway-dancing his way out to music that only he could hear.
That the “
She smiled and offered them the rather lacklustre excuse of, “Well, he is young and needs to be given his chance you know”
“Needs to be given his marching orders you mean!”
Miss Andrews and Mr Simpson, standing by the entrance hall Christmas tree, overheard the comments and smiled; their concerts had always been well attended and well appreciated.
Smiles turned to astonishment though when, while talking with other members of staff in the car park, they saw Pike and Mrs Turner walking along the children’s pathway together. At the gate they appeared to be cuddling until suddenly Mrs Turner’s voice could clearly be heard saying, “Oh, he’s here!” as they parted and Mr Turner’s car pulled up alongside them.
“The silly woman,” from Mrs Parkin was the only comment that seemed necessary and they made their various ways home.
By the end of the second term the mood amongst the staff was becoming very angry and the threat of mutiny was only avoided when it became known that Pike was only on a one year contract. Clouds parted and the sunshine of the summer holidays began to brighten the future. Even Friday’s curry seemed to linger only until Monday!
By the start of the last half term the warmth of summer and the impending departure of Pike had lifted the spirits of the staff to near giddiness. Parents were still complaining and his class were still the noisiest and worst behaved, but soon all would be back to normal.
At the end of the Tuesday evening staff meeting the rains returned.
“I am pleased to be able to tell you that although Richard was initially here only for one year he will be with us again next term as I have decided to offer him a renewed contract,” Mrs Turner announced with a broad smile. She didn’t even seem to notice the slow shaking of bewildered and frowning heads that surrounded her as she smiled at Pike. Pike did though, and his smile at them completed the wringing out of morale.
He was on duty in the playground at next morning’s break but his ears must have needed treatment for first degree burns by the time the bell went.
“What on earth is wrong with her?”
“How could such an obnoxious, egotistic boor gain such favour?”
“Write to the Governors!”
“Start a petition amongst the parents!”
“Strike!”
But as usual all the talk remained just that and though Mrs Turner was again made very aware of the feelings of the staff, the summer holidays approached and Pike remained, curry and all.
Amidst all this rancour Miss Andrews had been her usual quiet and passive self. She had not joined in the haranguing of Pike and latterly of Mrs Turner. She had sat and listened and observed and cogitated. She never said a great deal on any matter and when she did everyone respected her opinions. But on the subject of Pike she kept her thoughts steadfastly to herself, smiling an enigmatic little smile whenever her opinion was sought. She offered tea and sympathy and little else… but she had a plan of her own!
The last bell of the last day of term came and the children whooped their way home. Usually the staff would linger to chat and sip the odd glass of wine or two but by
She listened as he pushed his chair away and stood up.
She listened as he pulled out the computer’s plug with a grunt.
She listened as he pushed the computer trolley across the classroom towards the internal stockroom where it was stored, knocking desks and chairs out of the way as he did so.
And as he entered the stockroom to manoeuvre the trolley into place she was there to slam the door shut and to lock it with the key she had had cut several weeks before. She smiled broadly as she made her way back across the classroom to an accompaniment of curses and threats. A day or two locked away in his black hole of a stockroom might just make him think again about the manner of his presence in the school. She locked the classroom door, collected her bag and coat, locked her own classroom door and walked slowly down to where Mrs Turner still worked; downstairs and at the opposite end of the building to where Pike was now locked away.
“Everyone else has gone, Mrs Turner and I’ve checked that all the doors are locked so you needn’t worry. Just get yourself off home as soon as you’re done and have a lovely summer.”
“Thank you, Wendy, are you going away at all?”
“I might go to my sister’s at some point but I have to sort out one or two things in my classroom next week. Will the cleaners be in as usual?”
“The cleaners? No, they won’t be in for another three weeks, Mr Williams is off to his caravan tonight, he won’t be back until he has to be, and we… I fly to
“Er, yes…” Her mind raced to work through the effect this would have on her plans. She had banked on the caretaker or one of the cleaners letting him out on Monday but she soon relaxed when she realised that she could arrange for him to be let out later that night and put Mrs Turner to a spot of bother at the same time. “That would be very kind thank you.”
By
Arriving home at nearly 11 o’clock she went upstairs, changed into her nightdress and slippers, poured herself a small glass of sherry and settled down to listen to the radio. It was after
“Hello, I’ve just been taking my dog for a walk and I’m sure I’ve seen somebody moving around inside
The police would ring Mrs Turner as the key holder, they would meet her at the school, search it, hear Pike’s hammering and let him out… shaken and hopefully very stirred. She felt just a little like a secret agent so she had a Martini and lemonade when she got back to the house.
The staffroom was full of quiet murmurings when Miss Andrews went back into school on the designated new term preparation day. She cheerily greeted everyone and they all made a valiant effort to return her greetings with equal cheer, but the usual fresh start enthusiasm was obviously lacking. Mr Simpson told her of the
As there had been no sign of Pike she decided to go along to his room to say hello. He wasn’t there either so she took the opportunity to look at the writing and pictures that were still on the classroom walls. At one piece she raised her eyebrows and tutted as she noticed the date, November 4th. It was a poem about rockets and sparklers, full of spelling mistakes but with a beautiful picture of a bonfire at its side.
It was as she reached the back of the room that she noticed the smell… a thick, sickly-sweet smell… a smell of decay!
The colour drained from her face as she ran from his room to her own and sat down heavily in her chair. Her thoughts were jumbled and frantic; “What went wrong…? What have I done…? What should I do…? What can I do?”
“Wendy…
“What? Oh yes, sorry. I was miles away.”
They walked along to the staffroom together, he describing his trip to
“Thank you, Mr Simpson. Welcome back everyone,” she began, her face looking tired and pale, “I hope you all had a nice holiday. Now first the arrangements for the new school year. As you may have noticed," Mrs Turner looked down at her notes and swallowed before she regained herself and continued, "Mr Pike is not with us today…”
Murmurs of, “Thank goodness,” came from several of the staff but Miss Andrews could only stare down into her lap, ashen faced and silent.
“Mr Pike will not be back with us this year. I received his letter of resignation via Central Staffing on my return from
Miss Andrews suddenly rose up and rushed from the room leaving the rest of the staff looking at one another. Their feelings of relief at the exit of Pike were mixed with concern at her sudden exit.
“I’d better go and see if she’s allri…” Mr Simpson managed before he was interrupted by the crashing back of the door and in stormed Miss Andrews.
She slammed the huge aluminium pan down on the coffee table and exclaimed, “That bastard, Pike has left us some of his bloody curry!”
