The Advocate
At eight forty five, Lina Massoud arrived at St. Thomas's school in Denton, East London, ready to start another day. She went to the staffroom, doffed her grey gabardine raincoat and hung it up on the third hook from the door out of habit. If anyone ever asked her about it, she would not have been able to explain why — she just always hung her coat there. A few feet from the door, against the wall, was a row of lockers where the teachers stored their stuff. They sat on a long wooden board that topped a long row of cupboards. Hers was number three. She put her tote bag on the worktop, dug into the pocket of her trousers for the bunch of keys, opened her locker and rummaged for the roll book and a few other bits and pieces she intended to take to her classroom. Distracted, Lina failed to notice Gertrude Chalmers approach until the older woman was right behind her.
"You're a little late," said Gertrude. "Most unprofessional."
"Check the clock," snapped Lina, who was not in the mood for this. "It's only a quarter to nine. My contract says I work from nine to four every day, unless you've got something to say about that, too."
"I'm not sure I like your attitude," said Gertrude, and swept out of the room, her long skirt swishing as she left.
Ever since she had started at St. Thomas's, Gertrude had made a point of criticising her about everything. Today, she was being more open about it. Sometimes, she was so subtle Lina couldn't work out why she felt so agitated around the skinny blonde beanpole. The reason for Gertrude's attitude had never been made clear. Lina had tried to get to the bottom of it, but no matter what she said or did, Gertrude seemed determined to make life difficult for her.
With a long, drawn-out sigh that expressed more about the way she felt than words ever could, Lina got the necessary items together and went to her classroom to prepare for Year Two English. Just when she had her notes laid out on her desk the way she liked it, Clodagh Miller came in. Lina looked up when she heard the door open.
"Hello, Lina," said Clodagh, running her hand through her short brown bob.
"Hi Clodagh, have you had a haircut?"
"I did, but I'm sure they've got a bit wrong somewhere," said Clodagh, her eyebrows knit with consternation. She shook her head. "What do you think?"
"Keep still for a moment," said Lina. She dug in her desk drawer for the scissors, went over, and cut the offending lock. "It's even now."
"Thanks," said Clodagh, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Are you alright?"
"I'm annoyed, to be honest," said Lina as she put the scissors back.
"It's Gertrude, isn't it?"
"She told me I was late when I came in. It was a quarter to nine!"
Clodagh sat down on the corner of a desk near the front. "Did you write it down, like I said? This could be a race thing, you know. Or Islamaphobia."
"No."
"Do it now. You're being bullied, Lina. You need to keep a record so you can report her."
For a moment, Lina couldn't bring herself to say anything. She looked at the floor. The idea of a bigot at the school in multicultural London in the 21st Century seemed ridiculous to her. Okay, so she was a Muslim, and yeah, her skin was the same shade of brown as the lattes she got from the Italian coffee shop every morning on her way into work, but she didn't wear the hijab, and dressed as Western as she could without offending the more conservative members of her extended family. Long tops over trousers sufficed, though they kept nagging her to wear the headscarf that would mark her out as an example of Muslim propriety — the exact reason she refused to wear it. Could that flaxen-haired thing be after her for that?
"Lina?"
"I'd rather not have to deal with the hassle," said Lina, with a frown.
"That's up to you," said Clodagh, "but she's not going to quit if you continue to put up with it. If she's moved away from the subtle digs to more overt stuff, it's a sign that she's fed up with you ignoring her..."
Lina sighed and looked away. "I snapped back," she said quietly.
"Write it down," said Clodagh, a steel edge to her voice. "I'll back you up all the way."
The bell rang for assembly, putting an end to the conversation for the moment. Since Clodagh was Lina's Teaching Assistant, Lina knew she'd have Clodagh nagging till she caved in and wrote it down, but the idea of keeping an event log to present to the headmistress later seemed ridiculous to her. Something more worthy of Gertrude, to be honest. She knew Gertrude wrote down stuff about her. Someone who made a career of finding fault with others surely did things like that. The idea of being caught up in a petty war of words did not appeal to Lina, but that was the way things appeared to be going. She would rather have forgotten about it, if she was allowed to, but Gertrude seemed determined to maintain a connection to her, to be part of her life whether she wanted it or not.
"Lina, come on," said Clodagh.
Lina trotted after Clodagh, her high heels clicking as she went.
After assembly, Lina and Clodagh went back to the classroom and waited for the pupils to trickle in. Clodagh walked around helping the kids with the writing exercise Lina had given them, and helped to keep order when Timmy thought it would be funny to poke John in the back and pretend that Carla was responsible.
Forty minutes later, when the kids trooped out complaining about their homework, saying, "Oh, Miss! That's a lot!" and Lina rolled her eyes and told them that she wanted it done, nonetheless, she and Clodagh tidied up the room and went to the Art room for Year 3's class.
By first break, Lina was so caught up in her work that she had almost forgotten the incident in the staffroom that morning. As she followed Clodagh in, the smell of coffee from the percolator made her mouth water. A cup of filter coffee would go very nicely with the cappuccino flapjack she had bought earlier. It was waiting for her in her locker. She licked her lips in anticipation, but when she entered the staffroom, the atmosphere was decidedly frosty. Everyone was quiet, tense, and staring at her and Clodagh as if they'd done something awful.
Mrs. Henderson, the headmistress, came over. "Miss Massoud, could you come to my office now, please?"
Light from the overhead striplights glinted off the pearls that sat on her capacious bosom. Lina had never seen Mrs. Henderson in anything but a twinset suit, and she always wore those pearls. The head's commanding presence, the fact that she dressed like a duchess and her stern, no-nonsense gaze from behind her steel-rimmed spectacles (not glasses. Mrs. Henderson would never wear glasses) intimidated Lina like nothing else could. Mrs. Henderson left immediately for her office, and Lina followed her with Clodagh in tow, nauseous and trembling with apprehension. Up the stairs she went, her sweaty hands slipping on the bannister when she grabbed it for support. Whatever it was, no doubt Gertrude was behind it.
And there she was, standing to attention like a soldier on the parade ground outside Mrs. Henderson's office, looking like the cat that got the cream. She said nothing as the headmistress, Lina and Clodagh approached, but waited for Mrs. Henderson to open the door and lead the way inside. She followed them in.
Mrs. Henderson seated herself at her big wooden desk, settling down like a hen on her eggs. "Please be seated," she said formally.
Gertrude tucked her skirt beneath her thighs as she sat down right in front of Mrs. Henderson, her head held high.
Lina took a chair from the back of the room and sat as far away from Gertrude as she could, at the right hand side. She was grateful when Clodagh sat between herself and Gertrude.
"Miss Miller," said the head, her eyebrows dipping over her nose, "I did not ask you to come here."
"Lina needs an advocate," Clodagh replied. "Even though this isn't a formal hearing, I believe she needs my support. Don't you, Lina?"
"I just want this to go away," said Lina, unable to look at anyone directly.
"Very well," said Mrs. Henderson, with a sigh. "Let us begin..."
"I need an advocate if she's got one," protested Gertrude, looking like a bulldog chewing a wasp.
"You are the one making all the complaints, Mrs. Chalmers," said Mrs. Henderson. "Do you wish to proceed or shall we wait while the pair of you gather an army each?"
Lina curled over where she sat, wringing her hands. Embarrassment burned her cheeks and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.
"But she's got one!" said Gertrude, her strident tones grating on Lina's nerves.
"I've pretty much made up my mind," said Mrs. Henderson sourly.
"Oh," said Gertrude. "Carry on, then."
Mrs. Henderson shot a glare at her, and said, "Miss Massoud, I have a list of offences here that Mrs. Chalmers has seen fit to bring to my notice."
She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a lever arch folder, which bulged with sheets of paper in clear punched pockets bound with a large elastic band. When she took the band off, some of them slipped out, their smooth sides sliding against the others. The head picked up a sheet at random and read it out. "'Massoud left classroom 3B in disarray. Two of the desks were not properly aligned." Mrs. Chalmers, could you please define 'disarray?'"
"Well," said Gertrude, flicking her long blonde hair over her shoulder and looking at Lina as if she was something vile, "I like the desks to be in straight rows facing my desk, and two of them were not straight."
"What position were they in?" asked Mrs. Henderson.
"Well..." said Gertrude, then trailed off.
Lina sat up a little straighter. This might not result in her dismissal, after all.
"Do you understand the question, Mrs. Chalmers?" asked Mrs. Henderson.
"What about the other incidents?" asked Gertrude. "Like the one this morning. That woman was so rude to me."
"You have not been specific," said the head. "You simply wrote that she snapped at you in the staffroom when you greeted her this morning."
"I pointed out that she had arrived a little late," said Gertrude, with a glare at Lina, "and she bit my head off."
"I passed her in the assembly hall at five to nine on my way up to the stage," said the head. "She was clearly on time."
"It was just a little joke," said Gertrude defensively. "I didn't mean anything by it."
"What about these?" asked the head. "Do you mean anything by these? They're all petty! Don't you have anything better to do than tattle on this member of staff, who has come in every day for the past year, done her job and hardly said boo to a goose? This is one of the most clear-cut cases of bullying I've ever seen. Did you think I wouldn't notice the way everyone went quiet when Miss Massoud came into the staffroom just now? It seems you felt the need to vent your frustrations to other members of staff instead of trying to resolve whatever it is you have against her. I'd hate to think that there was racism in our school in this day and age."
"But I'm not..." said Gertrude, looking wildly around her.
Lina looked at her, fascinated. It would be interesting to get to the bottom of this. She had been called a Paki a few times in her twenty seven years, but only by yobs. They didn't count. For the most part, she got on well enough with everyone else. Her neighbours had always been friendly. Where was this coming from?
"Mrs. Chalmers, I mean to get to the bottom of this," said Mrs. Henderson. "In the meantime, I'm sending you on a diversity awareness course."
Gertrude blushed and looked down. "I'm not a racist," she insisted.
"Ah, so she's an equal opportunities bully," opined Clodagh, leaning back to savour the moment.
Lina was embarrassed for all of them. None of this needed to happen, and as far as she knew, Clodagh was right. It was just a bully thing; nothing more, nothing less, nothing else. What could she do to make this better? It occurred to her then that simply carrying on quietly with Clodagh's support had been enough. Going to the head with a file as thick as Gertrude's might have been counter-productive.
"Oh," said Mrs. Henderson, "that course covers everything, Mrs. Chalmers. I'm sure you'll find it relevant."
For once, Gertrude had nothing to say.
The head smiled at Lina. "Well, Miss Massoud, this meeting has cut into your break, and I've got someone to cover for you, so why don't you and Mrs. Miller go and have a coffee, then go to the next class?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Henderson," said Lina, as she and Clodagh left the room.
On the way out, they heard Gertrude protest her innocence and accuse Lina of manipulation, but Clodagh just laughed. "She's a stupid cow, that one," she said. "If I was in her shoes, I'd just shut up and hope to get it over with. By trying to defend herself, she's just digging herself a deeper hole."
"Ah," said Lina, struggling to suppress a laugh, "but is it deep enough to bury that folder in? My goodness, it's flippin' huge!"
"I know!" Clodagh's face was twisted with a mix of mirth and incredulity. "Well, she's only got herself to blame. Come on, let's take advantage of our long, leisurely break. It'll be a while till we get a chance to do this again."
"Yeah," said Lina. "She's the only bully we've got!"
The burden she had carried for the past year melted away as Lina went to the staffroom, laughing and joking with her loyal friend.
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