‘I liked my old school,’ he mumbles as the poached egg receives another meaningless stab from his fork. ‘We had that cool new adventure play area, and Mrs Anderson had just given me the job of collecting up the bean bags after our games sessions.’
I’ve always thought it amazing how, up to about nine or ten years of age, kids see chores and responsibilities as proof of a kind of grown-up status. But once they get any older than that, it’s like pulling teeth to get them to do anything to help.
‘I know Mrs Anderson thought a lot of you, sweetie. And it’s always hard to leave a nice teacher and your friends behind.’ I put down my cutlery and reach for his hand. ‘But I honestly think you’ll like Lady Bridge even more. There’s a full-sized climbing wall there, remember? Much better than a poky adventure play area.’
His fork clatters onto his plate and he puts his elbow on the table and balances his chin on his clenched fist.
‘I know, but… I won’t know anyone there, Mum.’
‘Bet you’ll have made a friend or two by lunchtime. You know Aisha is in your class now, and maybe the boy with the scooter is too,’ I say brightly, trying to reassure him. Starting a new class just a month before the end of the summer term is a very big deal at any age, but particularly so when you’re only eight years old. ‘And Miss Packton seems lovely, doesn’t she? I know she’s really looking forward to having you in her class.’
We managed to squeeze in a short visit to Lady Bridge school last week, prior to the move. Although the head teacher was away at a conference that day, we were able to complete the necessary admission forms and meet Miss Packton, who is a sweet-natured, gentle young woman in her mid twenties.
The move coincided nicely with May half-term, so all the children will be back this morning after the break.
‘Don’t worry,’ Miss Packton confided when Rowan ran ahead on our way back to reception, ‘I’ll appoint a class buddy to show Rowan the ropes. I’m sure he’ll feel quite at home here in no time.’
After breakfast, Rowan reluctantly starts to get ready. When I go to find him ten minutes later, he’s standing at the lounge window looking out onto Buckingham Crescent.
‘The other children are all in their school uniforms,’ he calls to me when I step back out into the hall to check I’ve put my purse and phone in my handbag. ‘My blazer and trousers haven’t even come yet.’
‘No, but all your uniform is ordered and you’ll have it by the end of the week. Miss Packton knows that, so don’t worry, you won’t get into trouble.’
‘But everyone will know I’m new.’ He turns away from the window. ‘I wish I was back at my old school and I wish we still lived in our old house.’
I smile and take his hand, pouring all my energy into appearing enthusiastic about his first day.
‘You’re going to love it at Lady Bridge, trust me. When we get your bedroom exactly as you want it and your dad’s put the goalposts up in the garden, you’ll feel more at home here and you’ll be able to have friends over.’
I pull the door closed behind me and we head down the path and out of the front gate onto the crescent. There are several children of varying ages walking along the road, some with mums, some with their dads.
The school is just three streets away, and although there’s a busy road at the bottom, there’s a pedestrian crossing with a school crossing officer present. I’ve already promised Rowan that when he’s older, he can walk to school alone. I didn’t mention that that wouldn’t be happening until he’s at least ten, though.
I smile and nod at a smart lady walking parallel with us on the other side of the road. She’s holding the hands of a girl and a boy who look like twins. They appear to be about the same age as Rowan, maybe slightly younger, and they’re dressed in green and white, the colours of Lady Bridge. The woman nods back, and her glossy ponytail swings elegantly at the back of her head.
‘They look like nice children,’ I say to Rowan. ‘Maybe they’ll be in your class like your new friend, Aisha.’
‘I don’t want to be friends with a girl.’ He scowls. ‘I want to play football with the boys on the school field.’
‘Aisha might be a future Lioness, though, thought of that?’ I shake his hand playfully. ‘They’re World Cup qualifiers, don’t forget.’
But it seems there’s no chance at all of raising a smile from him this morning.
Eight
On our initial visit to Lady Bridge, Miss Packton asked me to check Rowan in at the school office on his first morning. So rather than follow the stream of children and parents who are heading left around the side of the building towards the classrooms, we veer off to the right and walk directly to reception.
It’s a lovely old school with lots of preserved original features, like a bell on the roof and a quaint porch with an information sign saying that years ago, children used to queue here for their free milk. The building has been kept in good repair, and all the original windows, including the glass double doors of the classrooms, have been replaced with new UPVC units. It’s nice to see a school that’s had some money spent on it. Some of the schools near to our old house are in dire need of upgrading.
I draw Rowan’s attention to a striking engraved stone that’s set into the wall high above the modern reception doors.
‘Look at that. Your new school was built in the year 1910… that’s a hundred and ten years ago. Imagine that!’
Rowan seems less than impressed, and I notice he’s chewing the inside of his cheek, which he tends to do when he’s nervous. I think he’s probably still a bit upset that Isaac couldn’t come with us today.
The receptionist takes down Rowan’s details and hands me some general permission forms that will need filling in and dropping back here tomorrow morning.
‘Welcome to Lady Bridge, Rowan.’ She smiles at him. ‘If you’d like to have a seat with your mum, Miss Packton will be here shortly to take you through to your classroom.’
I approve of how she speaks to Rowan as a person in his own right, treating him like a grown-up.
We perch on the comfy seats that run along the wall opposite the glass hatch. There’s a short queue of people waiting, mainly other students. Some children clutch signed pieces of paper – probably trip forms – and money.
I look down at the low coffee table between the seats and pick up a flyer detailing current vacancies at the school. The first position is for a midday supervisor to work an hour a day, but the second one gets my heart racing.
Part-time qualified teaching assistant required – Key Stage 1 experience preferred.
We require a part-time (three days a week) teaching assistant in our Year 2 class to work with individual children to offer support and raise attainment levels. This role also requires involvement in whole-class work when necessary.
Starting date: as soon as possible. Please apply online at…
Feeling a rush of possibility, I quickly fold up the flyer and push it into my handbag. Three days would be perfect once Rowan gets settled into his new class. Not only am I fully qualified, but I also have experience working in Key Stage 1. That has to give me a decent chance of getting an interview, surely?