“It’s fine, Manager.” I’ll go home, eat breakfast, clean myself up, and mentally regroup, I hope. We can just pretend you haven’t jerked me around so many times. “See you at eleven.”

“No! No leave! Ah … no trial lesson, but, interview?” He stumbles over his words. “Ah … how can I say … we have interview. Very soon. So, we need native speaker. So, it is good that you are here. So, you stay and do interview.”

Other staff members emerge from the staff room, slinking behind Manager. So, the gang’s all here, eh? Everybody arrived nice and early and the token is the one who drops the ball. They now watch our conversation with horrified looks. Even Yoshino looks a little pallid. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to stand my ground, even if I look like I spent the night in a rain gutter. “No.”

Manager stiffens like he’s just been shot with a poison-tipped dart. His head drops in deep thought. He folds his arms, sucks air through his teeth, then looks back up at me. “Please?” he whines. “This teacher, I really want. Ah, I mean, we really need.”

“Cybelle-sensei,” Yoshino steps forward, her voice gentle. Too gentle. “I think what Manager means to say is that … he is very sorry, but we need you. I can explain. Bucho just called and said we have a pretty amazeballs candidate — not her exact words — but she mentioned something about the highest TOEIC score she’s seen in years. Lieko was going to do the English interview, but now that you’re here, you can …”

Behind her, Lieko is shooting daggers at both of us. No one needs to explain that officially she is not allowed to do such a thing.

Yoshino blushes as she continues. “Anyway, you’d really be doing us a solid because, well …” she braces herself. “Manager just got off the phone with Bucho and said you would do it. She’s on her way here now. She and the candidate are on the same train. I’m sorry, Cyb. Please don’t kill me. Er, I mean, us.”

On cue, Manager bows very low. “Onegaishimasu.” The other staff members say the same, all except Yoshino, who mouths “I’m so sorry” to me, and Lieko, who storms back into the staff room and slams the door. I could say no. Hell, I should say no. I’m starving, and I’m pretty sure I look and smell like someone who hasn’t showered since Sunday. Then again, this whole debacle stinks of seriousness. Maybe this interviewee is the president’s daughter or something. This is not normal behaviour. I’ve never seen Manager bow this low, not even five years ago to the mother and baby who waited three hours downstairs on a freak typhoon day when the school was closed and no one notified her.