Mountains To Climb
Teacher Helen was wary of the high-flying new head of maths named after Everest’s Hillary...but would he actually prove to be pretty down-to-earth?
“Hey, Helen!” Sonia, the school secretary, had spotted me dashing along the corridor and fell in beside me.“the new head of maths starts on Monday.
“Hillary Blake. Fast-tracked, not been teaching long. Aged 34 and divorced, same as you. Fancy that!”
“Fancy.”
I shrugged, as though Sonia’s news was of no interest, but of course, it was. I’d applied for that job.
I’d worked at Compton High for three years, and as well as teaching maths, I ran sports teams and organised the staff away-day.
My exam results were always good, and surely I’d proven my commitment.
But the panel felt I “lacked experience”. So they’d appointed high-flyer Hillary Blake. I’m ashamed to say I was ready to dislike her.
Apparently, there had been male candidates for the job. Why couldn’t they have appointed one of those? It might have made life more interesting.
In a world where most couples meet at work, my options were Alf the caretaker – old enough to be my grandad – or Geoff, who taught chemistry: single, but still to discover the delights of deodorant.
“Settle down!” I yelled, entering Room 7A.
Jason Mcmahon was already bouncing off the walls.
The following Monday I was summoned to meet my new head of department.
Sonia was on the phone at her desk.
When she saw me, she grinned. Mystified, I knocked on the door and stepped into the head’s office.
My new boss stood up and turned to shake my hand.
It was the one thing I hadn’t thought of: Hillary Blake was a man.
I learned which elite private school he’d attended and how he’d worked in the city before deciding he wanted to “give something back” and go into teaching.
He was quite good-looking and wore a smart suit, and as we shook hands, I caught a whiff of spicy aftershave.
“Tell Helen the story of your unusual name,” head teacher Mrs Clegg urged.
He coughed and seemed embarrassed.
“Er, right, my name. Well, I was named after Edmund Hillary, the first man to conquer Everest.”
“Are you a climber yourself?” I asked.
He winced.
“I can’t stand heights. Edmund Hillary was my dad’s hero.”
“Marvellous!” Mrs Clegg stood up.“i’m sure Helen will show you the ropes. Welcome aboard, Hillary, and good luck.”
Luck? Yes, he was going to need that. He might have zoomed up the career ladder, but this was a rough school. The pupils were going to make mincemeat of him.
“Be quiet!” I yelled two weeks later, during a lesson on fractions.
“Miss, when are we going to use this in real life?”tiffany Matthews moaned.
Suddenly, the classroom door opened.
“Yeah,” Jason Mcmahon said. “What’s the point of maths?” Hillary Blake strode in.
As he slammed the door behind him, silence fell.
“I was just passing and heard noise coming from here. Everyone, sit down!”
He pointed at Jason.
“As for ‘the point’ of maths – do you mind, Ms Barker?” “No, please, carry on.” “Thank you. So, Jason, you don’t see the point of money?” That got their attention. “Yeah, money, sir. But what’s that got to do with it?”
“You need maths to work out if a job’s worth taking, or whether anyone’s short-changed you in a shop, or whether those jeans really are a bargain in the sale . . .”
“They like you,” I said later when the class had filed out. “They listened.”
I was grateful to him, but also envious of Hillary Blake’s presence. That was the only word for it.
I could control my classes, of course, but it was often a battle. He’d made it look easy.
“Oh, I’m still a novelty,” he said.
He started to say something else and then stopped.
“What did you want to say?” I prodded.
“Sometimes, you just have to act confident, even if you don’t feel it.”
I considered. Was he talking about himself, or giving me advice?
Maybe I’d misjudged him; perhaps he wasn’t as sure of himself as he seemed.
Hillary stopped on his way out.
“I’ve got an idea. Something for Jason Mcmahon, Tiffany Matthews and Mia Parks.” I frowned.
“How do you know all the trouble-makers?”
“I’m head of department. It’s my business to know.”
“OK, what’s the idea?”
“I want to start a kickboxing club.”
I laughed. “Kickboxing? The governors will love that. We excluded 10 pupils last month – girls as well as boys – for fighting.”
He shrugged and left the room.
I watched him march down the corridor.
Maybe I was wrong about Hillary Blake. Everyone else, from the dinner ladies to the rowdiest pupils, seemed to like him.
I couldn’t help wondering about his motives for coming to a troubled school like ours. Was it just to look good on his CV before he moved on to better things?
It was Friday afternoon, the last lesson before half term. My Year 7 class was lively, buoyed up by the forthcoming holiday.
Early on, Jason Mcmahon had misbehaved. I’d sent him to detention and thought no more of it.
We had a good lesson without his disruptive influence, but a few minutes after the bell rang, the classroom door banged open and a woman stormed in, pulling Jason behind her.
“My boy says you jabbed him with a pen!”
My stomach dropped as she showed me Jason’s hand. There
were deep marks of blue ink on it, but the skin wasn’t broken.
Judging by Jason’s sheepish face, he’d done it himself.
It was a serious accusation: we’d have to see the head teacher, file a report and call in other pupils as witnesses.
I’d been in a good mood, looking forward to my week’s holiday. Now, all that had gone in a flash.
I sat down shakily.
“I – I didn’t!” I said.
“He says you did!” the woman cried.“are you calling him a liar?”
“No, but he’s mistaken.” I stared at Jason, willing him to do the right thing. “Everything all right?”
It was Hillary Blake. Thank goodness. He’d know how to handle this.
“Miss Barker has hurt my boy!” Jason’s mother said, thrusting her son’s hand out.
I saw a flicker of surprise on
Hillary’s face, but otherwise he didn’t react.
His eyes met mine.
“Oh, has she?”
There was a challenge in his voice. I felt my chest tighten with indignation and I stood up again.
“No, she hasn’t,” I said firmly. “And I can handle this, thank you, Mr Blake.”
The classroom door closed again. I was on my own.
He might have left, but Hillary
Blake’s words of a few weeks earlier were still fresh in my mind.
I took a deep breath and steeled myself.
I could do this. I just had to act confident...
“OK?” Hillary asked me later as we watched Jason and his mother walk towards the school gates.
I’d stayed calm, I hadn’t yelled and, to my relief, I’d managed to get Jason to admit he’d made the whole thing up.
“Mrs Mcmahon struggles,” I said.“she’s got another two like Jason at home. It can’t be easy.” Hillary nodded.
“Well done. You’ll need to file a report with the head, but hopefully that’ll be the end of it.”
“Judging from Jason’s face, he won’t pull a stunt like that again.” I smiled.“you know, I think we should give that kickboxing club of yours a go.” Hillary’s eyes lit up.
“It teaches discipline and work ethic better than any other sport.
“Kickboxing makes you calmer and teaches you control.
“And it’ll be non-contact, of course. Honestly, wait and see: they’ll be transformed.” “How do you know this?” He looked straight at me. “It worked for me.”
“But you went to that posh school!”
“Oh, that.” He shrugged. “Only because a teacher put me forward for a scholarship.
“I came from a town like this. And, growing up where I did, having a girl’s name didn’t do me any favours. I got into a lot of scraps.“
I smiled.
“So you’ll back me if I take the idea to the head?” he asked. “Absolutely.”
“Great. See you tomorrow. Staff away-day?”
Blimey, I’d forgotten about that. And I’d organised it!
Now I felt guilty because, when I’d arranged it all, I hadn’t known anything about Hillary Blake.
“Do you want to go now?” the instructor asked, pulling one of the ropes taut.
We were standing on a platform high up in the trees at the final challenge: the zip wire over the lake.
I shook my head.
“I need to go back.”
I peered through the branches, but I couldn’t see the helmet I was looking for.
Sonia was pulling herself up on to the platform by the rope netting.
“Well done,” I said.
She was breathless but clearly pleased, standing taller than she had earlier, down on the forest floor.
“That was tough!” She nudged me.“your friend Hillary Blake’s struggling. We’ve all overtaken him!”
She nodded at the two zip wires, lined up side by side.
“Are you coming down with me?”
“No, you carry on.”
I retraced my steps, backwards down the rope netting and then over the crisscross of swaying wooden planks until I found him.
Hillary was two more obstacles back, hesitating. There was a thin line of sweat on his top lip.
“This is my fault,” I said, edging alongside him.“i didn’t know you hated heights when I organised this.
“But you’re almost there. Honestly, it’s more about technique than anything. I’ll talk you through it . . .”
We finally reached the platform at the top, looking out across the lake. We were the last ones.
Our colleagues would all be in the bar by now, toasting their success.
“This actually looks like fun,” Hillary said, trying to smile.
I was relieved to see colour back in his cheeks.
The young instructor nodded. “You’ve done all the hard work now. All you have to do with the zip wire is sit down and let go.”
Hillary looked at me. “You were good down there, Helen. Very encouraging. You’ll be a great asset to the kickboxing club, you know.”
I felt ashamed. I didn’t deserve his kindness.
“I am really sorry about making you do this.”
He waved away my apology. “It’s done me good. My friends call me ‘Hills’, by the way. Hey, what’s so funny?” I shook my head.
“Just that all my friends call me ‘Hels’!”
“Ah, I see.” He laughed.“could you imagine if we were a couple?”
“Hills and Hels? Yeah, it just wouldn’t work.”
“We’d be a laughing stock,” he agreed.
“Absolutely.”
I reckoned I could put up with that, though. And from the twinkle in his eyes, I reckoned Hillary was thinking just the same.
He reached for my hand and squeezed it.
“Buy you a drink when we’re down on the ground?”
“I’d like that,” I said. “I’d like that very much.”