The Right Call

My daughter's favourite teacher might just have inspired me, too ...

THERE’S a new supply teacher,” Gordon says when he returns from the school run. He reassures me that Elodie was fine going into class, but his face tells a different story.

Our daughter’s struggling to settle in the reception class months after starting school, and a succession of different teachers covering for Mrs Peterson, who is off on long-term sick leave, hasn’t helped.

My husband kisses me before he sets off on what we laughingly call the commute” to his office at the bottom of the garden.

I finish my coffee and, although my head is full of worries about Elodie, make my way to my study, which was the dining room in a former life, and try to focus on lesson planning.

It’s not that don’t enjoy tutoring secondary school students online, but it’s not what imagined I'd be doing at this stage in my life.

I miss being in the classroom, the interaction with colleagues and school life in general.

Sometimes even miss staff meetings.

“You could go back to it, Nessa,” Gordon says whenever he catches me looking wistfully at the website of my last school.

“We need to get Elodie settled before we make big changes,” say.

He must know this is not the real reason for my reluctance, but he goes along with it.

I surprise myself by having a productive morning and, as a reward, read a novel for an hour after lunch.

At half past three brace myself for Elodie’s return, her unhappy tear-stained face and list of reasons for not going back tomorrow.

Instead, her smile is so wide can see it as she and Gordon come walking down the street.

Her father is less cheerful.

“The teacher mistook me for Elodie’s grandad,” he grumbles.

We’re older parents, so this isn’t an uncommon occurrence, but Gordon is sensitive about it.