‘Kids like that are just looking for attention,’ she said, her voice loud enough to be heard over the muted buzz of children’s chatter. ‘The more you give them, the more they act up.’

I didn’t stiffen or scowl. Knowing that any hint of tension would trigger Caleb, I smiled as he blew a bubble. ‘That’s it! Well done!’ Then I backed out of the tent and went to help Chloe, who needed a new glue stick.

It wasn’t until the mothers were leaving that I finally spoke to Joyce. She was putting away some of the craft supplies, even though I hadn’t asked her to. When I saw her bustling around, ripping paintbrushes out of kids’ hands, I decided enough was enough.

I picked up a basket of paddle-pop sticks and followed her into the supply cupboard, where she immediately started rearranging shelves.

‘You should put these paints up where the children can’t reach them,’ she said.

‘Mrs Rooney.’ At times of high stress, I tend to flatten my country drawl—and I don’t think it’s ever been flatter. ‘I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to work. You’re not following the guidelines I sent you, and I’m finding it disruptive. I understand you have your own opinions, but this is my classroom. What I say goes.’ As she sucked in a lungful of air, I forestalled her. ‘You’re free to complain to the principal. Of course you are. But in my professional opinion, you should withdraw from our reading program, at least for a while. Maybe we can give it another go next term.’

A shriek from the classroom told me I’d been away too long. Hurrying back, I was just in time to stop Oscar from attacking Kayla’s pigtail with a pair of craft scissors. Oscar was probably acting up because his mum had just left; I saw her through the window as she headed for her car. Kate was gone too, though Pat was on the veranda, waiting for Joyce.

I was getting Kayla out of her plastic smock when Joyce thrust her face into mine. She was tomato-red; her bushy hair seemed to crackle with electricity.

‘I know what you’re up to,’ she spat. ‘You want Krystal to do this instead of me.’

‘Mrs Rooney—’

‘I’ll be lodging a complaint. I’ll be complaining to the Department of Education. I’ll have you sacked for unprofessional conduct.’

By this time there was no background noise. I was conscious that a lot of anxious faces had turned in our direction.

‘Keep your voice down.’ My tone was icy. ‘We can’t discuss this here.’