The Heart of the Dales (18 page)

But the boy continued obstinately. ‘You don't mind, do you, Mr Phinn?' he asked.

‘Well,' I said charily, ‘what sort of test is it?'

‘You had better explain, Kieran,' said the teacher.

‘Mr Hornchurch says people get really angry when it comes to spelling and they get on their high horses. Spelling's important but not as important as what you are trying to say.'

‘Come along, Kieran,' prompted the teacher, ‘Mr Phinn's got to be away soon.'

The boy continued. ‘And a lot of really brainy people have problems with their spelling and this famous Prime Minister – er, I can't remember his name.'

‘Lord Palmerston,' prompted Mr Hornchurch. ‘He was a bit of a stickler for correct spelling.'

‘Yes, him. Well, he was sick and tired of all his – what do you call them, sir?'

‘The members of his Cabinet, his eleven ministers,' said the teacher.

‘Yes, them. Well, he was so sick and tired of all his ministers sending him letters full of spelling mistakes that he gave them all a test.'

Oh dear, I thought to myself, this is going to be tricky. Mr Hornchurch clearly saw the expression of anxiety which had come over my face but rather than revel in my discomfiture, as some teachers might have done with a school inspector in their midst, he very generously helped me out.

‘Don't be bullied by Kieran, Mr Phinn,' he said. ‘I know you're in a hurry to be away.'

‘And none of Lord Palmerston's Cabinet ministers got all the spellings right,' piped up Rowena gleefully from the back.

‘Come along, then,' I said bravely. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound.'

‘That's one of Mr Hornchurch's expressions,' Kieran told me.

‘Let's have this test of yours,' I said.

As Kieran dictated the sentence from his jotter, I wrote it down slowly and clearly on the blackboard in large block capitals: ‘It is disagreeable to witness the embarrassment of a harassed pedlar gauging the symmetry of a peeled potato.'

There was a loud cheer from the children. Much to my relief, I had spelt every word correctly.

I was rather elated as I left the classroom that afternoon clutching a small tin badge that had been presented to me and which said to the world: ‘STAR SPELLER'.

The elation was short lived for, some minutes later, after school had broken up, I stood by the window in the headteacher's study-cum-office-cum-storeroom listening as Miss Drayton explained to Mr Hornchurch the real reason for my visit that afternoon. To my surprise, the man did not look at all concerned. He sat with his legs crossed and one hand in a jacket pocket, appearing neither angry nor upset as he listened patiently until the headteacher asked for his comments.

He smiled and shook his head. ‘I assure you,' he said, ‘that I have never used any inappropriate language in front of the children, and there must be some sort of misunderstanding.'

After questioning him in more detail, Miss Drayton seemed satisfied that her colleague had nothing for which to answer, and I have to say I agreed with her. She turned in my direction, but then looked past me and out of the window. ‘Ah, here comes Mr Gaskell,' she said, rising from her chair. ‘Now we will get to the bottom of this matter.' She shot out of the room and into the little lobby, leaving the door open for us to see what was going on.

‘May I have a word with you, Mr Gaskell?' she said as he headed for the classroom to collect his daughter.

‘I'm in a hurry, Miss Drayton,' he replied, not stopping. ‘I'm late for a meeting already.' He sounded an ill-mannered individual.

‘It is important,' she said stiffy, ‘very important. I should be grateful if you would step into my room for a moment. Miranda has been told to wait in the classroom until we are finished.'

‘Well, you'll have to be quick,' he said, looking at his watch but retracing his steps. ‘As I say, I've got an important meeting.'

Miss Drayton returned to the room, accompanied by the parent who was a stout man with a florid face and precious little hair. Mr Hornchurch immediately got to his feet, but while Mr Gaskell eyed me suspiciously, he did not acknowledge the teacher in any way.

‘What's it about, then?' he asked brusquely

Miss Drayton sat down on the edge of her chair behind her desk, as stiff as a snooker cue. ‘Do take a seat, Mr Gaskell,' she said, gesturing to the chair where Mr Hornchurch had been sitting. ‘This will hopefully only take a moment.' Her tone of voice was glacial.

The parent, however, remained standing by the door, arms folded. ‘I've not got a moment, Miss Drayton,' he told her irritably. ‘I told you that I have a meeting and I'm running late.'

‘This gentleman, by the window, Mr Gaskell,' said the headteacher, maintaining her meticulous coldness, ‘is Mr Phinn, the County Inspector for English and Drama.'

‘Oh yes,' said the parent, not looking at me but glancing again at a very flashy gold wristwatch. ‘So what's this all about?'

The headteacher stiffened further, her face rigid. ‘Mr Gaskell,' she said slowly, ‘the sooner you sit down and listen, the sooner you will know what it's all about, and the quicker you will be away.'

He flopped in the chair and breathed noisily. ‘What is it, then?'

‘Mr Phinn has been sent from the Education Department at
County Hall regarding a complaint you have made, a serious complaint. I believe you have had reason to contact County Councillor Peterson about Mr Hornchurch,' she said.

The parent coloured up. ‘Yes, I – er – did mention something to Councillor Peterson,' he said.

‘Could I ask why?' asked the headteacher sharply.

‘Because I was unhappy about Miranda coming out with some of the words Mr Hornchurch had used in his lesson.' The man puffed himself up like a huge turkey.

‘And might I ask why you did not bring this complaint to me,' asked the headteacher, ‘rather than taking it to a county councillor?'

‘I've complained about things at the school before, Miss Drayton, as you well know,' said the parent defensively, ‘and nothing's been done.'

‘Your other complaints were curricular matters, Mr Gaskell,' said the headteacher, ‘concerning reading books and home-work and how, in your opinion, we spend too much time on what you call the “fripperies” of art and music. As I explained to you, I do not seekto tell you how to build houses and asked you not to tell me how to run a school.'

‘Yes, well as a parent –'

‘And now,' continued Miss Drayton, ignoring his response, ‘you are unhappy about something Mr Hornchurch is alleged to have said – some words. Perhaps you would like to explain.'

The parent bristled. ‘Yes, words,' he said, ‘vulgar words, swear words.'

‘Would you like to tell us what these words were that Mr Hornchurch has supposedly used?' she asked.

‘I don't like repeating them,' he said, sticking out his chin. ‘As I say, they're rude.'

‘You are a man of the world, Mr Gaskell,' said Miss Drayton, ‘and I am sure that on your building site you have heard and, perhaps used yourself, some colourful language.'

‘Not in front of children, I haven't!' he retorted swiftly.

‘Maybe you could tell us then what letters these words begin with?'

‘There was the “b” word,' he said.

‘The “b” word,' mused Miss Drayton, raising an eyebrow. She gave a dry little cough. ‘There are quite a few of those.'

‘Look, Miss Drayton,' he said, getting to his feet, ‘I've an emergency site meeting going on at the moment and people are waiting for me.'

‘And the sooner you stop beating about the bush and tell me what words were supposedly used,' replied the headteacher, ‘the sooner you will be able to attend your site meeting.'

‘Balls!' said the parent.

‘I beg your pardon,' said Miss Drayton.

‘Balls!' repeated the parent, sitting down again. ‘That's the word he used and I'll tell you this, when my Miranda came out with it, I couldn't believe my ears.'

‘Is it not possible that your daughter could have heard this word from someone on your building site?' asked Miss Drayton.

‘No, she couldn't!' exclaimed the parent. ‘I asked her where she had heard it and she said in the classroom from Mr Horn-church. I was having my breakfast and she came out with it. I nearly choked. “It's cold enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey this morning,” she said, and then later she asked me if there'd been a “cock-up” when I told her I was collecting her from school and not her mother. This is not the sort of thing you expect your child to learn at school and to hear from a teacher.'

Miss Drayton turned to the accused. ‘Mr Hornchurch?'

‘I did indeed use these expressions,' he admitted.

I saw the headteacher close her eyes momentarily and take a short breath.

‘You see!' blustered the parent. ‘He admits it!'

‘But the expressions are in no way vulgar, Mr Gaskell,' explained Mr Hornchurch, who still appeared quite unruffed.

‘They are in my book!' the parent snapped.

‘Well, they are not vulgar in the
Oxford English Dictionary
,' said the teacher, ‘which is the world authority on the use of
the English language and where you will find the origins and the meanings of these old expressions. If I might elucidate?'

‘What?' asked the parent.

‘You see,' enthused Mr Hornchurch, clasping his hands together in front of him, ‘we are doing a history topic in class on Admiral Lord Nelson and I was explaining to the children that some of the expressions in common parlance today such as “swinging the lead”, “spick and span”, “fagged out”, to be a “loose cannon”, to be in “at the bitter end” – all these date back centuries and often have nautical origins. For example, I have been quite “taken aback” by your comments. “Taken aback” – to be surprised, astounded – referred originally to a sailing ship caught by a powerful gust of headwind. I appear to have “fallen foul” of you, Mr Gaskell. This term too comes from the language of the sea where a ship's rope is a “foul” when it becomes entangled.'

‘I am not here to listen to a lecture about seaside expressions,' said the parent.

‘You see, the old expressions to which you have referred,' continued Mr Hornchurch undeterred, ‘contrary to popular belief, are in no way vulgar. Something done badly or inefficiently is known as a “cock-up” and the expression has a long provenance. The “cock” is the firing lever of the pistol, which can be raised to release the trigger. If the cockis up too far, the gun will not fire, hence the old expression a “cock-up”. I imagine you were thinking of something else.' He gave a small smile. ‘As to “freezing the balls of a brass monkey”, this is an old and familiar naval expression dating back to before Trafalgar. I was describing to the children the scene at the famous battle and what could happen if the sailors were not prepared. The “monkey” was a brass rack on which the cannonballs were stored. In very cold weather this monkey contracted thus ejecting the balls. The expression actually is “cold enough to freeze the balls off ”– and not “of ”– “a brass monkey”.'

‘It sounds very far-fetched to me,' mumbled Mr Gaskell.

‘Would you like to see the
Oxford English Dictionary
?' asked
the teacher, stretching down to a bookcase beside the head-teacher's desk.

‘No, I wouldn't,' said the parent aggressively.

‘You see, English is a rich and poetic language,' continued Mr Hornchurch, ‘full of interesting idioms and proverbs, age-old adages and maxims, colourful expressions and pithy sayings, which I think children should know about, and always seem to enjoy. I think if you had listened to Miranda she might have explained things.'

‘Or taken the time to have a word with me about it,' added the headteacher.

‘Well, I wasn't aware that's what these expressions meant,' said Mr Gaskell, beginning to rise from his chair, ‘and now I've got this meeting to go to.'

‘Do sit down, Mr Gaskell,' said the headteacher like a school ma'am correcting a recalcitrant pupil, ‘I haven't quite finished with this matter yet.'

The plump man sat down again. ‘It's just a bit of a misunderstanding, that's all,' he said.

‘Mr Gaskell,' said the headteacher quietly and distinctly, but fixing him with a cobra stare, ‘you have made a serious allegation against a member of my staff, a false and malicious accusation which might very well have damaged his reputation and that of the school. I mean, a busy school inspector has been sent from County Hall to investigate, not to congratulate me on the school's excellent results or the awards we have won, but to investigate an unsubstantiated accusation.'

‘All I said –' began Mr Gaskell, now crimson-faced.

‘Let me finish,' interrupted Miss Drayton. ‘An unsubstantiated accusation that has stirred up a veritable hornets' nest. I am sure you are aware of the term “slander” – a false and defamatory spoken statement.' The parent's face drained of colour. ‘You made these unfounded claims before me, an officer of the Education Authority, a county councillor and various other people who have better things to do with their time than go on a wild-goose chase. Further to that, it appears that you have repeated these unfounded allegations in a public
house and now a newspaper article is to appear, so I hope you know the meaning of the word “libel”, too. It seems to me, Mr Gaskell, you are in very hot water indeed.'

‘Well, I wasn't to know,' he whined. ‘I thought – as most people do, I reckon –that these – er –'

‘Expressions.' Mr Hornchurch came to his aid.

‘Yes, that these expressions were rude.' He squirmed in the chair like a large slug sprinkled with salt.