“I’m not sure I have much choice, Samuel.” Phil shook his head. “I’m sure it’s not completely your fault,” Phil agreed, “But you know we said we’d have to get your parents involved if this carried on.” “I haven’t done anything,” Samuel said defensively. He leaned his head in his hands, face level with Samuel’s as he looked at him closely. “Well, it might not have been just him,” Samuel mumbled. “It’s a serious issue, after all, we’d have to get Liam’s family involved…” “Would you be willing to say that in front of the head teacher?” “Everyone was fighting, and Liam started it!” “You promised me this was going to stop.” “This is the third incident this week, Samuel.” Phil kept his tone carefully low. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” Once they arrived, Phil sat him down in one of the front row seats and crouched in front of him. Samuel kept sending longing looks back to the exit even as he was led towards his classroom. The school was eerily silent, other than the muffled screams sounding from the playground outside.
Miss Anderson nodded, already crouching in front of the other two, so Phil led Samuel back out of the office and along the quiet corridors to his classroom. “Miss Anderson, will you take care of those two? Samuel and I will have a quiet word.” “They started it!”Ī chorus of “We didn’t!” Started up from the other two, accompanied by a lot of tears and angry sniffling. “It wasn't my fault!’” Samuel whined, pointing a finger straight at the other boys. There was a bruise beginning to rise on his cheek. He had curly brown hair that (in Phil’s opinion) could do with a cut, and ragged little fingers that were currently screwed up into fists. The little boy kicked his feet, glaring stubbornly down at the ground. You promised me this wasn't going to happen again.”
Phil crouched down by the youngest of them all, speaking in a low, disappointed voice. The head teacher’s office was tucked away by reception, and outside its stern-looking door sat three very miserable young boys. Phil preferred it that way too - it allowed the kids to let off some steam and come back to his classroom tired out and muted. The inside of the primary school was still mostly quiet, all the students preferring to spend their break time running around outside.
His face settling into a grim expression, Phil grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and shrugged it on, following Miss Anderson out of the room. Wanna know the main person doing the accusing?” “There was a fight - just a bit of a scrap, few scraped knees - but everyone’s pointing the finger at Liam.” Phil bit back his groan and instead jumped up to his feet, instantly on alert. “Mr Lester, I'm sorry, but you'd better come now.” He re-assessed that situation when Miss Anderson, who took the class above him, suddenly appeared panting in the doorway. Other that, most of Phil’s flock seemed to be doing well. All but one of his class were in that day, and Lucy had been off sniffling all day yesterday so it was no surprise she was absent. In front of him sat a pile of exercise books - the children’s English homework, ‘ What I did on my weekend’, which would now be Phil’s evening activity - along with a mug of cold coffee that he’d never had time to drink, and his laptop sitting open on the class register. Phil leaned his head into the palms of his hands and let out a gusty exhale. Three weeks into the new term, and he thought he'd be better prepared. The ceaseless screaming of children outside his classroom window probably shouldn't bother him quite as much as it did, but just then, Phil could honestly say that he'd never heard a noise quite like it before. Phil’s head had never hurt quite this much before.
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