"Good Morning Ben, and how are you on this lovely summer morning?"
"I'm fine thanks Simon and how are you?" Simon was the Headteacher of the local Primary School and we'd known each other for eight years or so and had become quite good friends. Our friendship had come about as I had been elected to be a Parent Governor on his school's Board when my children were at the school, then they'd left to go to secondary school, but at his request I'd stayed on as a Co-opted Governor and then when the Chairman had resigned, I'd become Chair.
I found it really worthwhile, it didn't take up too much of my time, Simon was a good Head and had a loyal and capable staff below him and we'd developed a good working relationship that had somehow become a friendship.
So it wasn't unusual for him to telephone me, but what was unusual on this occasion was that he just seemed to want to chat. I didn't mind in the slightest, I lived alone and had plenty of time, regrettably my marriage had fallen apart and my wife and I had divorced, I still saw my children regularly and my Ex and I had even begun to cobble together something approaching cordiality.
I worked from home permanently, I was a self-employed Management Consultant, work could be manic or deathly quiet, but money wasn't an issue, and I was getting used to being on my own. Of course I did have female friends, some of whom I could tempt into spending the night with me, nothing serious, more like friends with benefits.
"Simon," I finally interrupted, "was there a specific reason you wanted to speak to me? Only I'm expecting a call soon." I wasn't, but he seemed to need a prod to get on with it.
"Ah, I'm glad you brought that up, there was a reason for my call," he hesitated, then continued, "I was wondering if you could do me, well the school a huge favour?" In the past these requests were usually about putting my head in some stocks and having wet sponges thrown at me by the kids at the school fete, so a little warily I told him I'd do what I could.
"It's just that as you know we take the year 6 pupils on a week's trip to the Wye Valley in Wales."
"I do indeed, my own children went on it and had a whale of a time."
"Well we're off next week and we've had a bit of a problem with providing supervisory cover. We generally send a couple of teachers accompanied by their husbands, they get DBS checked and it's usually the same ones that go each year." The DBS check, Disclosure and Barring Service was a government provided service that checked a person's criminal record to allow them to work with children. I had one as did everyone else involved with the school.
"This year there's been a last minute problem and one of the couples has had to pull out. I can only find one female teacher to go so we're short of a male to make up the statutory numbers. I don't suppose you're free next week are you by any chance?"
My mind flashed through a mental diary, there was nothing planned and what needed to be done could be rescheduled or dealt with remotely, but I needed to find out a bit more what was involved so asked him to clarify my responsibilities.
"To act in loco parentis in case of need, all the serious activities, the walking expeditions, the canoeing etc. are supervised by fully qualified employees of the Centre, all you need to do is to be there should any of the children need any support in any way. I don't want to pressure you, but we're really scraping the barrel, sorry that didn't come out as I intended, but if you say no, then we'll have to cancel the trip."
It didn't seem too onerous, and I did know just how much the week was looked forward to by the kids for years ahead, so I swallowed hard and agreed.
"That's so good of you Ben, I knew I could rely on you and I'm sure you'll get on with Mrs Mason fine."
"Mrs Mason as in
the
Mrs Mason?"
"Yes, is there a problem?" Her reputation had spread far and wide, there was no doubt she was an outstanding teacher, her record spoke for itself, and once the children had got used to her they adored her, but if rubbed the wrong way she could be stubborn, outspoken and prickly. We'd not exactly crossed swords, but there had been several staff meetings where I had felt the sharp edge of her tongue. To be fair on every occasion she'd had a valid point, but it would be wrong to say we had a comfortable relationship.
"I'm sure not Headmaster."
"Excellent! Oh there is just one minor thing, I'm afraid you'll have to share a room with her."
"Room as in bedroom?"
"Errr, yes."
"Surely that's not appropriate."
"Well, they are absolutely full, and as we normally have married couples we'd booked a double and they can't change it. Clearly you can't share the bunkhouse with the children so unless it's a total deal breaker...."
"Have you asked her about it?"
"We have actually, in her words, she didn't mind sharing a room with a man as long as he didn't fart or snore all night."
"What about her husband, can't he go?" A last despairing search for salvation.
"We know she was married once, but to be frank, no-one has ever had the balls to ask what became of him."
"Probably buried under the patio at home," I mumbled indistinctly.
"Sorry, what was that?"
"I said that's settled then. I'm sure the children will have a wonderful time."
We rang off and I wondered just how I'd been conned into that. I bet Simon was rubbing his hands with glee about how he'd suckered good old Ben into that.
I agonised over what to pack as I would with any holiday, the weather in the Wye Valley even in early summer was notoriously fickle, a mixture of shorts and long trousers, definitely some waterproofs, pullovers, sun screen, swimming shorts, and finally nightwear. I didn't own a pair of pyjamas and I certainly wasn't going to go and buy some just for a few nights. Mrs Mason would just have to put up with me in boxers and a tee shirt.
The day arrived and I turned up at the school bright and early with my case, to find I was one of the last to arrive. The coach driver cheerfully loaded my case on board and I clambered up the steps to find a sea of faces staring at me. I waved regally and my eyes settled on the other couple that was on the trip. Karen and Martin Holmes. I knew Karen quite well, she was one of the teachers in her mid-forties, a very pleasant woman, her husband I had met a few times but knew little of. They greeted me politely and we shook hands and I turned to look for Mrs Mason.
I couldn't see her anywhere, she normally dressed in browns and beiges, but the only adult I could see was half-way down the coach sorting out the seating. I took in her figure, shapely legs encased in skin tight jeans over ankle boots, with a bright red bolero jacket, clearly one of the young Mums.
She turned round, "Ah there you are Mr Manning, I was just explain to the children who you were and how important you are."
For a second I couldn't speak, my eyes glued to the pair of breasts under the tight white tee shirt. Finally I found my tongue, "Mrs Mason, good morning, I hope you haven't been frightening them off."
"I thought I was supposed to be the scary one. We're all on board now, so if you take your seat, we can be off." I looked around, "That's us, the two seats at the front." Great, four whole hours trying to make polite conversation with Mrs Mason.
As it turned out it wasn't that bad, perhaps my imagination had painted her in too dark a light, she was actually quite easy to talk to, and we found we had several areas of interest in common, sharing a love of Mozart and reading, although we couldn't agree on what should be read. My tastes were definitely modern whereas she enjoyed the classics.
The children were all excited and they were singing songs and generally chatting away, and the whole coach had taken on a holiday atmosphere, perhaps it wasn't going to be too bad after all.
We arrived and got off, grabbing our cases and sorting out who was sleeping where. All of the children were in the bunkhouse and the four adults had been allocated rooms above. We left them to pick their bunks, girls and boys separated into two different areas and I carried our two suitcases up the stairs to our section. Martin and Karen disappeared through a door and Mrs Mason unlocked the second one and strode purposefully in, followed by me.
"Oh no, no no, that won't do at all." I heard her say as my gaze fell on the double bed taking up most of the room. "I agreed to share a room not a bed." she stated firmly. First hurdle, first of many I suspected.
"It's not that bad," I ventured, "at least there are separate duvets." Closer examination revealed that in fact there were two separate beds as well, pushed together to make the appearance of a double. I watched as Mrs Mason energetically pushed them apart, leaving a two foot gap between them. Mollified, she stood upright, brushing her hands off, a satisfied look on her face.
