The Other Side of the Dale Read Free Page B

challenges, successes and the demands, her dark eyes lit up and her nervousness disappeared. She confided that she was not entirely certain that the post was right for her.
    ‘At which university do you lecture?’ asked the self-assured young woman suddenly, looking in my direction.
    ‘I don’t lecture,’ I replied. ‘I’m a schoolteacher.’
    ‘Really?’ pronounced the urbane man and his bearded companion in unison. Three sets of eyes stared at me curiously. I felt way out of my league here. Cyril had probably been right – ‘cut-glass accents and more degrees than a thermometer’.
    ‘Have you published?’ asked the bearded Blue Suit.
    ‘Nothing of any importance,’ I replied. ‘Just a few poemsand stories for children, and an occasional article for an academic journal.’
    ‘No, I didn’t recognize the name,’ remarked the expert in dyslexia, staring at his watch. ‘I do wish they would get a move on. I really cannot abide waiting about.’
    That was the end of any further dialogue for the door opened and a tall, stooping, quietly spoken man entered and introduced himself. ‘I am the Chief Education Officer of the county, Dr Brian Gore,’ he said. ‘I am so pleased you have all been able to attend for interview today.’ He shook our hands warmly and chatted for a while, asking us if we had had a good journey and if we needed anything. He then glanced at his watch. ‘I know how nerve-racking these interviews can be, but just be yourselves and try to enjoy the day. We have studied your applications thoroughly and have received very fulsome references and feel we have a particularly strong field for this post. The interview will be a pretty informal affair – about half an hour to forty minutes each and we will see candidates in alphabetical order, if you have no objections. The Interview Panel is composed of two councillors, an education officer, two headteacher representatives and myself. We hope to arrive at our decision today so you may wish to wait for the outcome. Alternatively, you may wish to leave after your interviews and I will contact you at home this evening. Now, if there is nothing else, I look forward to seeing each of you in the course of the morning.’ He gave a reassuring smile and was gone.
    I was the last candidate for interview so had a tedious yet apprehensive two-hour wait before I was called. For the first half hour or so I walked slowly down the long echoey, oak-panelled corridors, going over possible questions in my head. Feeling a tight knot of fear growing in the pit ofmy stomach, however, I made for the gardens where I could get a breath of fresh air. An old man in an ancient suit, and pushing a barrow-load of hedge clippings before him, smiled as I approached.
    ‘Champion day,’ he said.
    ‘Yes, indeed,’ I replied. ‘Lovely and bright. The gardens look magnificent.’
    ‘Well, I do try my best and you can’t do more than that, can you?’ he said, chuckling, and resting his barrow for a moment. ‘Are you one of the new councillors then?’
    ‘No, no! I’m here for an interview. School inspector’s post.’
    ‘School inspector, eh? I shall have to watch my p’s and q’s, won’t I?’ he laughed. ‘Have you come far?’
    ‘Just from Doncaster.’
    ‘Not a town I know, Doncaster, but my father used to go to the races there. Do they still run the St Leger?’
    ‘Yes, indeed, every year.’ For a while we chatted about the weather and the countryside and the crowded roads and other commonplace topics which thankfully took my mind off the dreaded and fast-approaching interview.
    ‘Well, I shall have to get on,’ announced the gardener looking at the old chrome fob-watch which he had extracted from his waistcoat. ‘I wish you well, young man. It’s a lovely part of the country to work in and I hope you come in first and beat the other runners in your own St Leger this morning.’
    ‘That’s kind of you,’ I replied, ‘but having seen the other