‘The weird thing is, he didn’t even have cheese sandwiches for lunch and neither did anyone sat with him. I’ve no idea where he got it from.’ The chill wind whipped around the open space, sending ice down Bella’s spine. She pulled up her scarf and tucked her gloved hands inside her pockets. A whistle dangled from her neck though she hadn’t yet had to use it. The children were all running around like it was the middle of summer, some of them trying to surreptitiously remove their coats even though it was only five degrees outside. ‘But you’re right, Johnny. Mrs Brody’s certainly stepping up her game this year. Apparently, she wants to buy some weird lighting rig for the school hall, but Mrs White’s told her it’s not in the budget and she’ll have to make do with turning the lights up and down or putting a piece of coloured plastic over them as we’ve done every other year. I don’t think she was that impressed. How was your morning, Johnny?’

It was a well-known fact that Johnny hated teaching Year 6. He much preferred the littler ones but it was customary for them all to swap around each academic year so they had variety and kept up to date with the different Key Stage curriculums. The Year 6s were always more of a handful because they were the big fish in the little pond and thought they ruled the world. Yet, there were still moments when they’d cry or show their innocence and need some reassurance. But that wasn’t what bothered Mr Feker.

‘Eleven times today they tried to call me Mr Fucker. I wish I could change my name. I’ve thought about it before, you know. I only haven’t because it would break my dad’s heart.’

‘That’s why they all think my first name’s Nina,’ Nina said sagely. ‘If I admitted it was Titania they’d all call me Titty and then I’d have to move to another school. That was my nickname when I was at primary school and I absolutely hated it.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Johnny said. ‘I like the name Titania.’

‘It’s from Shakespeare.’

‘Oh, look out, Mrs Brody’s coming over.’

‘Are you three ready to tell your class the parts they’ve got this afternoon?’

‘We are, Mrs Brody,’ Bella answered. ‘I can’t wait. They’re going to be so excited.’

Meadowbank Village Primary was such a small school that there were only two Christmas plays a year. One for the tiniest Reception class up to Year 3, and one for Years 4, 5 and 6.

‘Now I want us to be practising every day,’ Mrs Brody said as if she were talking to her tiny five-year-olds.

‘Every day?’ Nina asked before immediately shying backwards under Mrs Brody’s glower.