This Is Your Life Read Free Page B

had considered giving up teaching altogether so that I could concentrate on the screenplay full-time, but I had no idea how long it took to write a movie so I thought I’d better keep some money coming in until I sold the script. But the boredom of my everyday routine, the relentless aggravation of never having any money – none of the things that habitually got me down had bothered me much since I’d had this brilliant idea. It was my ticket to another life. I was tempted to tell everyone I met, but it was so precious that I had to keep it locked up inside in case someone stole it from me.
    As I finished my last class of the week I was excitedly looking forward to the prospect of a whole clear week getting to grips with the next scene. These were the times I lived for. I had to admit there wasn’t much job satisfaction spending weeks teaching a class English only to drop them off at the ferry terminal and have them turn and shout a final fond ‘hello’. I dumped a few books in the office and gave a goodbye wave to Nancy, a fellow teacher and friend, who seemed to be involved in a serious phone call.
    â€˜How can you be so bloody stupid!’ she shouted into the phone.
    Either she was talking to her daughter or the speaking clock had forgotten to bring its watch that morning. Like me, Nancy worked irregular hours at the Sussex Language Centre, fitting in alternate weeks between her fourteen-year-old’s court appearances. How fate had conspired to give such a kind-hearted, generous spirit as Nancy a daughter like Tamsin was one of the great mysteries of life. She did once bring her mother some flowers but even that ended up in an argument. Tamsin said that whoever tied them to the lamp post obviously didn’t want them any more.
    Nancy slammed down the phone and put her head in her hands.
    â€˜Shit! Shit! Shit!’
    â€˜Everything all right?’ I said, disguising nosiness as concern.
    â€˜Guess who’s been suspended from school again?’
    â€˜What’s it for this time?’
    â€˜Setting off the fire alarm.’
    â€˜Setting off the fire alarm? Why on Earth would she do a thing like that?’
    â€˜She says there was a fire.’
    â€˜Honestly! Is that the best excuse she can come up with?’
    â€˜The fire brigade put it out and everything, but she’s still suspended for two weeks.’
    â€˜This fire? It wouldn’t have been started by Tamsin by any chance, would it?’
    â€˜Well, obviously the head has jumped straight to that conclusion. But they’re picking on her again. Just because she was seen near the rubbish dump with matches and a box of firelighters. Oh God, why does she do these things?’
    The phone rang again and I stood there trying to do a bit of supportive hovering while Nancy and her daughter argued back and forth.
    â€˜Let me have a word with her,’ I said.
    â€˜Hi, Tamsin. It’s Jimmy here ... Er, look, while you’re suspended, do you think you could walk the dog for me? I’ll pay you and everything.’
    Tamsin was delighted at this prospect. In the background her mother was hissing: ‘Don’t pay her! She’s supposed to be being punished!’
    I continued chatting as Nancy listened to me with growing incredulity.
    â€˜So, was it a big fire? Right. What sort of firelighters did you use? Oh yeah, Zip, they’re good, aren’t they? That was very forward-thinking of you, firelighters and matches and everything. Oh, was it? Well, say hello to him for me. Yup, see you soon.’
    â€˜What was all that, “Oh yeah, Zip, they’re good, aren’t they”?’ exclaimed Nancy. ‘Why didn’t you suggest she used petrol next time?’
    â€˜I thought you were supposed to show an interest in a kid’s hobby?’
    â€˜Not when it’s arson.’
    â€˜Well, it turns out that Kelvin brought in the firelighters and everything – he obviously