30/07/2008 by April First.

At 9am The Deputy Head politely asked us to meet in his office after school. I said I couldn’t as I was going dancing.

At 11am he asked Deborah to meet him in his room but Deborah said that if the issue was cashless catering everyone needed to be there, as she as spokeswoman had not yet had the chance to be fully briefed by the membership. Mrs Marchmount started to speak but stopped when I trod on her.

At 1pm the Deputy Head said he would have the meeting now, in our office, with all of us, but Janice announced she was off for lunch, and Deborah suggested that given the meeting could have been held at any time during the morning it should not now be held at a time when we were not all going to be there, and to do so was disrespectful.

At 2pm the bursar came in and asked why we were slipping so far behind with our work. I told him someone had let a mechanical dog loose in the office.

At 3pm the Deputy Head walked into the office, closed the door and said, “Right – now we talk.” The phone rang. He ordered us to ignore it. I offered to leave the room on the grounds that I believed in witchcraft.

“I think there is a widespread belief in the power that witchcraft exerts in this town,” I announced pompously. There was a general nodding of heads. The Deputy Head left.

At 3.30 the Deputy Head returned. We talked and within minutes reached an agreement. We would immediately start processing the dinner money taken at the end of term once again in return for direct involvement in committees discussing all future issues that did or might concern us. Cashless catering, it turns out, was not – and in fact had never been - an option for the school. I asked why we had had three men and a woman wandering around the school discussing it, but there was no answer.

The Times Educational Supplement on line has reported that the fraud squad had taken over the school.

As I was leaving I took a call from Warlock World who asked if they could speak to the auditors.

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29/07/2008 by April First.

The Deputy Head stormed into the office at 10.30, muttered something none of us could quite understand, repeated his commentary it in a different language that none of us could quite identify, and left. (We debated for a moment if “stormed” was the correct word here. Janice thought he was more like a tempest, but “he tempested into the room” somehow doesn’t sound right.) 

During the next five minutes there was considerable coming and going, shouting and arguing. We sat as one, looking on serenely, gazing around as if life for us worked in perfect harmony and not even the rantings of wild managers could disturb the poetic tranquillity of our calm and unruffled world. 

The issue appeared to be something to do with the door of the Deputy Head’s study. Last year, after a series of unprovoked attacks by a deranged supply teacher the door was redesigned and reinforced with the added security feature of it only being openable from the inside. The door was then tested against everything from nitro-glycerine to AK47s. 

However as far as we could judge from the kafuffle, entry had nonetheless been arranged, and we were all extremely keen to find out how. As in all such cases rumours spread wildly around the school (despite the lack of teachers.  Who needs teachers when there is a rumour to spread). There was talk of witches, wizards and auditors, of armed gangs of murderous Ofsted inspectors, and avenging parents who had found that the story about Madonna was, well, just a story – and rampant Columbus employees on the make. But such ideas received few bets in the book that Havoc-Blythe – who miraculously turned up in the middle of it all  - immediately set up. 

“These are,” he announced, “the moments for which we live,” and for the first time ever I was in agreement with him (although I think I did well not to let it show). 

Slowly however a story did emerge from the depths of the school. A story about wood. And about pirates.  

We heard, we took it in, and we looked at each other. 

“Pirates?” I asked. “With patches over one eye?”    

“And parrots?” added Deborah.

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27/07/2008 by April First.

Saturday

Walking along the high street to check for any further outbreaks of witchlike incidents I saw the deputy head with the woman from the cashless catering company. They were hand in hand leaving Tesco’s.

Returning home I noticed that the street name for my road has been removed. I now live in a street with no name. I rather like that but suspect other-world involvement.

A dance (as opposed to a dance lesson) was advertised at the dance club – at last an alternative to Saturday night with the usual crowd in the pub. I went with great expectation – and with Binky. I danced with a man who told me he was a teacher. I told him I was with MI6. Also danced with a man wearing a tee-shirt that said “Nobody knows I am Elvis”. I commented on this to Wendy – a charming woman I chatted with between dances. She said, “You should have seen the one he was wearing last week.”

Blinky got on very well – it turns out she is a natural dancer. I noticed several people there who are, I am sure, involved with military intelligence and are just checking me out. As we drove back we checked the high street on my way home but nothing untoward appeared. Except the spire of St Augustine’s seemed taller than I remember it. And several sign posts seemed to be blank.

Sunday

As I had missed the quiz last night virtually everyone from the Saturday night pub scene took it on themselves to drop in to ask me about the dance. En masse we went to Blakes – opposite the Toppled Bollard. En route I noticed the church spire at St Blair’s – it was missing. Havoc Blythe suggested that it had been removed by auditors after the church had failed to pay its council tax.

I gave a detailed account of my Saturday night out, and in return I heard how Mrs Marchmount had had an altercation with Jermain – her current beau. By and I large I think I had the more fun – a fact confirmed by Janice’s confirmation that whatever flings or affairs she has been having have come to nought and could she come dancing next time?

Back home I found a message had been put through my door. It read

Ikuisuus on yliarvostettua, kun etsit uutta tulokast

Lähdetään ulos ja tanssitaan hetki, elämä on enemmän väijymistä kuin selviytymistä

Clearly this is a new code, and I await the arrival of my decoding documents in the near future. In the meanwhile I congratulate myself on taking my life forwards into a new dimension. I have retained my old friends, am yet am venturing into new arenas. This is good.

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26/07/2008 by April First.

The deputy head took two paces into the office and instructed us to bring the dinner money accounts up to date.   Deborah said we couldn’t as the school was now involved in cashless catering and anyway according to the Schools Financial Management Standards it was now time to start the half-year audit.

The deputy head accused us of behaving like spoilt children.  “An interesting method of negotiating,” Deborah told him, and then said nothing more.  

Blinky Allthorpe came in and complained that we had run out of honey.  I told her that the school was on summer holiday and that it was just admin who were in.  She said, “oh,” giggled, turned round and then said, “but we are still out of honey.”

Eventually the deputy head said, “Step into my office.” 

Deborah said, “Step into this office.”  She is getting quite amusingly difficult, in my opinion.

“I will not hold this debate in public,” said the Deputy Head.   

“Then get the public out of this office so we can work more effectively,” said Deborah. 

“Fzcheknbzx,” said the deputy head.   

“We can discuss this again when you are more composed,” said Deborah. 

Later the bursar appeared.  “According to the internet,” he said, “aibohphobia is a fear of mechanical dogs.” 

The deputy head re-appeared while Deborah was trying to trace the pizza delivery drivers who had vanished with the dentists when the head’s study was evacuated.   According to Janice Deborah had been having what we administrators delicately call a big “thing” with one of them, and then the other. 

In Deborah’s absence the deputy head approached me.  I obviously have the look of an undercover negotiator and felt deeply pleased that he treated me in this serious fashion.  He asked me why we were really so worried about cashless catering.

“It is,” I told him, “the work of wizards.”

He gave me a strange look and walked out.  At least it is Saturday tomorrow.

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25/07/2008 by April First.

There was universal demand for knowledge as to my experience last night.    

“The club,” I announced, “is exclusive.” 

“But they let you in,” said Janice, “and Binky.” 

“I wore my hat,” I explained.  “Binky is a star.”

“Binky can dance?” asked Janice.  A more uncoordinated person it would be hard to imagine, but I confirmed it.  “Binky is one of the top dancers – every dance a new man.”

“And you learned what exactly?” asked Mrs Marchmount, unhappy that my activities had taken the limelight away from her latest internet date. 

“I learned the octopus, the basket, the half windmill and the slide,” I said. 

“And this was dancing?” she asked. 

“Exactly so.” I said in a voice that I felt also suggested that they could be tactical manoeuvres in keeping with my role in MI6. 

My story however was interrupted regularly by the phone.  Someone and none of us could imagine who, had told the media that the school’s number was actually the HQ of the Cult of Merlin.  After the fifth call I started to experiment with the way I answered the phone (vocal disguise is important in the world of military secrets) eventually settling on a west country drawl that my grandmother affects when she’s asking me for money.

One of the auditors looked into the office.  It appeared he had lost his wallet.  I told him Dr Havoc-Blythe looked after lost property. 

In the evening Binky and I went dancing again.  I think there might be something in this. 

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23/07/2008 by April First.

Two wizened old-timers turned up, claiming to be the school’s auditors who were investigating a missing £700,000 on behalf of the government.  Janice sat them outside the head’s study where they promptly fell asleep.

At 12.30 I woke up the auditors for lunch.  I wondered what the link was between wizened and wizards.  Not to mention witches – a topic which now dominates the local news.  Lots of worthies on radio and in the paper saying that we need to stop this nonsense now and two clerics wandering around decontaminating buildings with holy water.  I wonder what else we can make up?

A hubbub in the office.  It appears that the bursar has opened the safe (an interesting point – none of us thought he knew the combination) and found last week’s dinner money still in its envelopes (apart from payments from families that think it highly amusing not to use the official system and who simply drop money in the box without any indication who it is from).  Demands for explanations were made as to why the money had not been checked, entered, cross-checked, bank-booked and banked. 

“Cashless catering,” we said in unison. 

This woke up the auditor-wizards who entered the room and promptly set about counting the dinner money.   I watched them carefully.  It appeared that after a few seconds the money was moving by itself.

At 2pm we saw the deputy head enter the bursar’s office. 

Havoc-Blythe dropped by to inform me that Cosi Fan Tutti was being performed tonight and would I care to attend with him.  I said I was going dancing.   

So now I have to.   Blinky Allthorpe said she fancied coming along so at least I have an ally.

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