penetrating grey eyes.
3. Exchanging glances
They sat in straight, silent rows one either side of the school chapel, listening to the Headmistress’s address. The staff sat on the pews at the furthest end by the altar, and Laura looked for Mr Rydell. He was on the same side as Laura but several rows in front so she could only distantly see the side and back of his head.
The first assembly of term was held on Tuesday, because its timeslot in the first morning back was used to brief new girls. The first Monday was usually so chaotic that extra time was needed anyway to get everyone to the right classrooms. There were always changes from the previous year, sometimes at the last minute. This term the History and Geography classrooms had been inexplicably swapped around, and the new Chemistry lab still had wet paint so a temporary room had had to be found.
"Now I’d like to welcome our new staff, I hope you will all help them feel at home at Francis Hall," Mrs Grayson said. A widow with steely grey hair and military bearing, she had an absolute command of the school. She taught Maths but only to the sixth form.
"I’d like to introduce Miss Quayle, who’ll be filling Mr Carlisle’s much-missed shoes in Biology." Miss Quayle half stood and gave a sort of nod. She looked rather like a quail, Laura thought, she was shortish with dowdy brown hair and clothes.
"Miss Wingrove joins Mr Peters’ English department," the Headmistress continued. Miss Wingrove looked more interesting, in her early thirties, fair haired, intelligent. She had a nice smile. Laura hoped they’d get her rather than Mr Peters. They hadn’t had English yet so she didn’t know whom had been allotted.
"And finally Mr Rydell will be teaching German, following Frau Goettner’s return to Hamburg."
There was a rustle of interest among the rows on the opposite side as the new German teacher stood momentarily, the majority of girls not yet having seen him. He was certainly the most attractive male member of staff by a long stretch. Not the youngest perhaps - Mr Poynter who taught History was under twenty-five, but he was short with a round, boyish face and owlish glasses. And fey Mr Lanaway in Art was too odd for words. Rare were the hearts that fluttered in either of their classrooms.
Then there were various part time music masters, some of whom were younger than thirty, but unless you played a specific instrument you would never see them. Beyond that, most teachers were elderly males or female.
All in all the school appeared to take care to choose its male teachers from the ranks of the romantically untouchable in Laura’s view. Ironic perhaps that the only one crossing the line seemed to be horrid old Mr Peters. Either way, Mr Rydell was an aberration.
Charlotte grinned at Laura and whispered: "just wait until they see what Rydell’s like in class!"
"He wasn’t so bad," Laura whispered back.
"He’ll knock Peters off his perch with the sixth form," Charlotte said, then quickly closed her mouth as she spied a prefect glaring at her.
The organ strummed up, and the final hymn played. Laura sang without really thinking about the words. Francis Hall promised a "Christian education" but it rather washed over her, she wasn’t one of the earnest girls who went to confirmation classes and Christian Union. Neither, fortunately, were Charlotte or Margery.
Charlotte was an avowed atheist, Margery professed a sort of inactive belief, and Laura didn’t really know or care. There was too much else to think about and learn. Religion just buzzed along in the background, always there, more boring than offensive.
* * *
They didn’t have German that day but Laura saw Mr Rydell in the dining hall at lunch. She thought he looked back at her, but before she could be sure they had to turn around to say Grace and start the meal, which left her with her back to him. She could hardly crane around again and look at him.
She felt the changed world
3. Exchanging glances
They sat in straight, silent rows one either side of the school chapel, listening to the Headmistress’s address. The staff sat on the pews at the furthest end by the altar, and Laura looked for Mr Rydell. He was on the same side as Laura but several rows in front so she could only distantly see the side and back of his head.
The first assembly of term was held on Tuesday, because its timeslot in the first morning back was used to brief new girls. The first Monday was usually so chaotic that extra time was needed anyway to get everyone to the right classrooms. There were always changes from the previous year, sometimes at the last minute. This term the History and Geography classrooms had been inexplicably swapped around, and the new Chemistry lab still had wet paint so a temporary room had had to be found.
"Now I’d like to welcome our new staff, I hope you will all help them feel at home at Francis Hall," Mrs Grayson said. A widow with steely grey hair and military bearing, she had an absolute command of the school. She taught Maths but only to the sixth form.
"I’d like to introduce Miss Quayle, who’ll be filling Mr Carlisle’s much-missed shoes in Biology." Miss Quayle half stood and gave a sort of nod. She looked rather like a quail, Laura thought, she was shortish with dowdy brown hair and clothes.
"Miss Wingrove joins Mr Peters’ English department," the Headmistress continued. Miss Wingrove looked more interesting, in her early thirties, fair haired, intelligent. She had a nice smile. Laura hoped they’d get her rather than Mr Peters. They hadn’t had English yet so she didn’t know whom had been allotted.
"And finally Mr Rydell will be teaching German, following Frau Goettner’s return to Hamburg."
There was a rustle of interest among the rows on the opposite side as the new German teacher stood momentarily, the majority of girls not yet having seen him. He was certainly the most attractive male member of staff by a long stretch. Not the youngest perhaps - Mr Poynter who taught History was under twenty-five, but he was short with a round, boyish face and owlish glasses. And fey Mr Lanaway in Art was too odd for words. Rare were the hearts that fluttered in either of their classrooms.
Then there were various part time music masters, some of whom were younger than thirty, but unless you played a specific instrument you would never see them. Beyond that, most teachers were elderly males or female.
All in all the school appeared to take care to choose its male teachers from the ranks of the romantically untouchable in Laura’s view. Ironic perhaps that the only one crossing the line seemed to be horrid old Mr Peters. Either way, Mr Rydell was an aberration.
Charlotte grinned at Laura and whispered: "just wait until they see what Rydell’s like in class!"
"He wasn’t so bad," Laura whispered back.
"He’ll knock Peters off his perch with the sixth form," Charlotte said, then quickly closed her mouth as she spied a prefect glaring at her.
The organ strummed up, and the final hymn played. Laura sang without really thinking about the words. Francis Hall promised a "Christian education" but it rather washed over her, she wasn’t one of the earnest girls who went to confirmation classes and Christian Union. Neither, fortunately, were Charlotte or Margery.
Charlotte was an avowed atheist, Margery professed a sort of inactive belief, and Laura didn’t really know or care. There was too much else to think about and learn. Religion just buzzed along in the background, always there, more boring than offensive.
* * *
They didn’t have German that day but Laura saw Mr Rydell in the dining hall at lunch. She thought he looked back at her, but before she could be sure they had to turn around to say Grace and start the meal, which left her with her back to him. She could hardly crane around again and look at him.
She felt the changed world
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