03 Dear Teacher Read Free Page B

staff-room door. He looked nervous.
    ‘Hello, Tony,’ I said. ‘What’s wrong?’
    Tony looked up at Maurice. ‘ ’Ello, Uncle Maurice,’ he said.
    I looked in surprise at Maurice. ‘So Tony is your nephew?’
    ‘That’s reight, Mr Sheffield. ’E’s our Margery’s eldest.’
    ‘Oh, I see,’ I said. ‘So what is it, Tony?’
    Tony’s cheeks flushed. ‘Mr Sheffield, ah’m reight sorry, ah should’ve told y’sooner,’ said Tony, ‘but then ah saw Uncle Maurice’s van.’
    ‘Told me what, Tony?’ I said.
    ‘Ah brought Petula this morning t’show you, but then she went missing,’ he said. ‘Ah told yer in assembly.’
    ‘Petula?’
    ‘Yes, Mr Sheffield: m’pet mouse.’
    ‘You have a mouse called Petula?’
    ‘Yes, Mr Sheffield,’ replied Tony, as if it was entirely logical . ‘Me mam named ’er after Mrs Dudley-Palmer, ’cause me mouse ’as staring eyes.’
    ‘Oh, I see,’ I said, trying not to smile.
    ‘An’ ah thought me uncle Maurice might kill ’er if ’e didn’t know it were Petula.’
    ‘Well, I’m glad you’ve told me, Tony, but you should have let me know straight away. We’ve been very worried.’
    ‘Ah’m reight sorry, Mr Sheffield,’ said Tony forlornly.
    Maurice looked down at his little nephew and then up at me.
    ‘Don’t worry, ah’ll use psychol’gy,’ he said, stroking the side of his nose with a gnarled forefinger. ‘Ah’ve got jus t’thing in t’van.’ He scurried off eagerly and returned moments later. ‘ ’Ere it is … carbolic soap. Petula will love it,’ he said, holding up a large bar of potent-smelling soap that would have stopped a clock at ten paces.
    ‘Can ah tek Tony to ’elp me?’ said Maurice.
    ‘Er, yes, of course, but be careful, Tony,’ I said.
    With that, uncle and nephew trotted out into the entrance hall and carefully opened Ruby’s cupboard. We could hear their raised voices.
    ‘Use that broom ’andle, Tony, t’coax ’er out,’ shouted Maurice, ‘an’ ah’ll get me wire basket ready.’
    At that moment, Vera walked through the little corridor that linked the school office to the staff-room. ‘Excuse me, Mr Sheffield, but Mrs Dudley-Palmer is in the office and would like a word.’
    Mrs Dudley-Palmer was standing next to the open office door. ‘Oh, hello, er … Mrs Dudley-Palmer, what can I do to help?’
    ‘Well, Mr Sheffield,’ she said, taking out an expensive-looking school prospectus, ‘you will recall I have a difficult decision to make about Elisabeth Amelia’s future as she will be eight at the end of this school year.’
    ‘Ah, yes,’ I said. ‘It would be a shame to lose such a delightful girl from our school.’
    Petula Dudley-Palmer studied me for a moment. ‘It’s kind of you to say so, Mr Sheffield. However, I’ve just returned from York and the school is very appealing.’
    ‘I’m sure it is,’ I said, looking at the impressive coat of arms above some Latin script on the prospectus.
    ‘And then I shall have to decide what to do with Victoria Alice as she would eventually follow her sister.’
    ‘I understand,’ I said, ‘and we should be sorry to lose Victoria Alice as well. She’s such a happy and well-behaved little girl.’
    ‘Yes, she’s the one who takes after me, of course,’ said Mrs Dudley-Palmer with a self-satisfied smile.
    Suddenly, five-year-old Victoria Alice ran in from the playground and stopped outside the door. ‘Hello, Mummy. I’ve just kissed Terry Earnshaw,’ she said proudly.
    Mrs Dudley-Palmer was rooted to the spot. ‘How did that happen?’ she asked in horror.
    ‘It was difficult, Mummy. Molly Paxton had to help me catch him.’ Then she ran off and into class.
    ‘Oh dear,’ said Mrs Dudley-Palmer. She stepped into the office and looked down at the prospectus as if she had finally made up her mind. It suddenly appeared as if Ragley School did not come up to expectations. As she was pondering what to say next, the silence was broken suddenly by