Over Hill And Dale Part 21

"As I was saying," continued Mrs. Savage now, "I am here at the behest of Dr. Gore to explain the new procedures and to get you all up to speed. We do not want anyone off-message, do we? I would like, starting now, for all the inspectors to complete a blue Form IMF."

"A what?" snapped David.

"International Monetary Fund," explained Sidney.

"The Inspectors' Monthly Forecast form!" exclaimed Mrs. Savage. "This will replace the green Form IWF, the Inspectors' Weekly Forecast form, which you send to me at present. I will now know well in advance where you are during the days and evenings and then'

"Evenings?" interrupted David. "What's this about evenings? You want to know what we are doing in the evenings? Good gracious me, this gets worse and worse."

Mrs. Savage gave a twisted little smile. "Only if it's official County business, Mr. Pritchard. I am not the slightest bit interested in what you get up to in your own time."

"Just as well," said Sidney, looking in my direction. "I am sure Gervase would not wish to record the many a.s.signations he has with a certain young head teacher "Now, should there be any changes you wish to make," continued Mrs. Savage, ignoring him, 'you will need to complete a yellow Form AIMF, an Amendment to the Inspectors' Monthly Forecast form. All visits to schools need to be recorded accurately and clearly and, should there be any changes, the amendments noted. Both the IMF and the AIMF should be sent to me directly so I can make the necessary alterations and adjustments to your programmes."

"In triplicate?" asked Sidney sarcastically.

"I have brought over a batch of the new forms," she continued undeterred, 'which I have left in your secretary's office and I would like them returned to me completed, asap." She stared pointedly again in Sidney's direction. "Now, it is important that we all come aboard on this."

"Mrs. Savage began David rising to his feet.

"Well, we will see how it goes, Mrs. Savage," interrupted Harold with the unruffled gentleness of the peacemaker. Then, without conviction, he added, "It sounds very reasonable to me."

"No, Harold!" cried David. "It does not sound at all reasonable. I have better things to do than complete a lot of silly forms. I do not wish to "get up to speed", to be frank, nor to "come aboard". I am quite content working at my own steady pace. I am not on a running track nor in a racing car. I well recall some of Mrs. Savage's other hair-brained ideas and wonderful initiatives, such as wearing those idiotic luminous ident.i.ty badges, putting ridiculously complicated codes on the photocopier or making us park in remote areas of the County Hall miles away from this office. All abandoned, as I recall. I have no intention whatsoever of spending my time on forecasts or filling in amendment sheets whether they be blue, green, red or psychedelic pink! I have more b.u.mf on my desk than a Belgian bureaucrat. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a school to visit because that is what I do for a job inspect schools and not sit around pus.h.i.+ng coloured paper backwards and forwards!" With that David s.n.a.t.c.hed up his briefcase and departed.

"And much as I would like to debate the efficacy of your forms, Mrs. Savage," Sidney told her, maintaining his carefully blank expression, and heading for the door at the same time, "I too have an appointment at nine o'clock in the far distant Dales."

Mrs. Savage looked like a startled ostrich. "Well.. ." was all she could muster to say in a strangled sort of voice.

"I will have a word with them, Mrs. Savage," Harold told her gently, 'and, as I said, we will see how it goes. I feel certain'

"I have to say I find your two colleagues very offhand, Dr. Yeats," said Mrs. Savage, regaining some composure and readjusting the chiffon. "I am only endeavouring to make the system more efficient, that's all. I do have a job to do and it makes it exceedingly difficult if the people who'

"I'm sure you are only doing what you feel is for the best," rea.s.sured Harold, showing his set of tombstone teeth.

"And I shall be mentioning their opposition to Dr. Gore." She looked in my direction. "Have you anything to say, Mr. Phinn?" she asked curtly.

"Well, now you ask, Mrs. Savage, I really do think that we have quite enough paper arriving on our desks. The present system seems to me to work well and'

"I am sure there will be no problems," interposed Harold, rubbing his large hands together. "It shouldn't take all that long to complete your forecasts. Julie can check through my colleagues' desk diaries, fill in the details and bring the forms over later today or tomorrow."

"Where is your secretary, by the way, Dr. Yeats?" asked Mrs. Savage suddenly.

"I asked her to take our new colleague over to the main building and show her where everything is post room, resources area, library, that sort of thing."

"I see."

There was a clattering of shoes on the stairs and a few moments later Julie arrived accompanied by the new science inspector who had arrived that morning.

"Ah, I see you have arrived," said Mrs. Savage, ignoring Julie and addressing herself directly to Gerry Mullarkey. She did not wait for any response. "I was expecting you this afternoon, but since you are here, I'll explain a few things if you would like to accompany me over to my office."

Gerry smiled an easy smile. "And who are you?" she enquired.

"I am Mrs. Savage, Dr. Gore's personal a.s.sistant," she responded tartly.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Savage," said Gerry in a quite charming voice.

"What is your shorthand like?" asked Mrs. Savage.

"Non-existent."

"Your typing speed?"

"About a word a minute, I should think."

"Well, this does not sound at all encouraging. Can you use a dictaphone?"

"No."

"Have you any qualifications at all?"

"Well, I have a degree in physics, a masters degree in microbiology, a Ph.D." and I'm a Fellow of the Royal Inst.i.tute of Chemists."

"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Savage. "I thought you were the temporary clerical a.s.sistant, from the agency in Fettlesham."

"No, no," interposed Harold, 'this is Dr. Mullarkey, the new science inspector, who has just started. I believe you were on one of your courses at the time of the interviews."

"Oh, I see. Someone might have said something earlier, Dr. Yeats. I a.s.sumed that Dr. Mullarkey was a man."

"Most people do," replied Gerry.

Mrs. Savage looked, for once, distinctly uncomfortable and I could not wait to recount the episode to Sidney and David.

"Well, perhaps when you have a moment, Dr. Mullarkey," said Mrs. Savage, 'you could call up and see me in my office. It's in the Annexe to the rear of County Hall. Well, I have work to do," she told us with stiff finality, as though we were wilfully detaining he rand with that she swept in the direction of the stairs. She reappeared a second later. "And I would appreciate those forms, Dr. Yeats, as soon as possible." "She is the most objectionable, unpleasant, ill-mannered, sour-faced old trout I have ever met!" exclaimed Julie when Mrs. Savage had finally made her grand exit. "Swarming about in that ridiculous coloured tent of a dress like Florence of Arabia, treating everybody like yesterday's left-overs. Never said one word to me. Did you notice that? Not a word. And did you see the hair? She looks like she's been frightened by a firework. And as for that plastic surgery she's had, it didn't work, I can tell you that. When you get close up, the skin that's been stretched right back off her face is tucked under her chin like a gerbil's pouch. I reckon the surgeon must have been left-handed."

"Julie," I said, 'don't hold back. Tell us what you really think about Mrs. Savage." Laughter returned to the office.

"You never told me she was beautiful."

Christine and I were walking down the drive to Castlesnelling High School on a warm Friday evening on our way to the final performance of the staff and students' production of the musical Oliver!. Christine looked stunning. Her hair shone golden, her blue eyes sparkled like ice in the moonlight and the light-coloured, close-fitting coat showed off perfectly her slim figure. She looked like a movie star. I felt so proud to be with her.

"I didn't think it was important," I replied casually.

"You just said she was very clever, you never mentioned that she had looks as well as brains." Our conversation had got around to Dr. Gerry Mullarkey, who had visited Winnery Nook School that day. "She was certainly singing your praises. She said how helpful you had been."

"Really?" I replied in a non-committal tone of voice.

"Taken her around schools, introduced her to all the important people, helped her settle in, even shown her some of the wonderful scenery. You must have seen quite a lot of her."

"Well, it's the least I can do. After all, she is a new colleague and everyone was really friendly when I started." By this time we had arrived at the entrance and a good opportunity for me, I thought, to change the subject. "I hope this production is going to be all right," I said, opening the door for Christine. "The last play I saw here was awful."

"Is she married?"

"Who?"

"Geraldine Mullarkey."

"No, she's not married." I tried again to change the subject. "It was a gruesome production of Hamlet they did here last year. The stage at the end looked like a scene from the First World War, full of people wounded and bleeding and dying and dead'

"And is she coming tonight?" she asked, walking ahead of me.

"Christine, will you stop going on about Gerry. No, of course she isn't coming tonight. She's the science inspector. What would she be doing at a school play? If I didn't know you better I'd say you were jealous."

"Well, she is very attractive."

"So you keep telling me."

"And you've been spending a great deal of time with her. She said you had been particularly helpful by attending a difficult meeting with her a week ago. Was that when you cancelled our night out at the theatre?"

"Yes, it was, as a matter of fact."

"Mmmm."

"What's "Mmmm" supposed to mean? Christine, there is nothing going on between me and Gerry Mullarkey. She's just a colleague."

"But a very attractive colleague with whom you have been out quite a few times now."

"I've not been going out with her as you put it. Ours is a purely professional relations.h.i.+p."

"Has she got a boyfriend?"

"No, I don't think she has."

"Mmmm."

"There you go again."

We found our seats, smack in the centre of the front row and Christine continued the conversation.

"You seem to be surrounded by good-looking women."

"Christine, most of my time is spent with small children, spotty adolescents, ageing women teachers, married men, crusty county councillors and nuns. I don't know where you get this idea that I spend my whole day with the contestants for Miss World. You make me sound like some sort of Casanova. And, as for the Education Office, it's like a men's club. There's hardly a woman in sight."

"There's your secretary."

"She's not much more than a teenager and she's engaged."

"There's that very attractive woman with the expensive clothes."

"Which very attractive woman with the expensive clothes?"

"She was with Dr. Gore earlier this week when he came to speak to the infant school head teachers She was wearing this incredible silk said affair with ma.s.ses of silver jewellery."

"You mean Mrs. Savage!" I exclaimed.

"She's very unusual and striking."

"Christine, the limestone caverns beneath Malham Tarn are very unusual and striking, Pen-y-ghent in winter is very unusual and striking, Hopton Crags are very unusual and striking, but I don't want to spend all my time down a cave, up a mountain, or hanging off a cliff. Mrs. Savage would be the last woman on earth I would have any designs on. I'd sooner play postman's knock with the bride of Frankenstein. Mrs. Savage is the most disagreeable person I have ever met. And," I added hotly, 'she's old."

"Mmmm," hummed Christine, smiling, "I do seem to have touched a raw nerve."

I had been hoping for a pleasant, stress-free evening and a chance to forget about the hectic couple of weeks I'd just had, but things were not turning out like that.

Following my visit to Ugglemattersby County Junior School, I had taken great care over my written critical report and then shown it to Harold. He had sighed, shaken his head and told me to take a copy over to Dr. Gore, who he felt needed to see it. I had arrived at the CEO's office first thing the next morning, despite knowing full well that there would be very little possibility of getting a direct audience with the great man himself. Mrs. Savage, no doubt, would be keeping vigil. Sure enough, she had spotted me creeping down the top corridor, had shot out of her room like a keen-eyed guard dog and had impeded my progress, insisting that Dr. Gore was very busy. I had then been asked to complete one of her wretched pieces of paper Form SIN i: Schools in Need and I had spent a tedious ten minutes ticking a series of little boxes, while she hovered over me like a malign presence.

Later that day I had been called to the telephone and informed by Mrs. Savage that the CEO, having read my report, was very concerned about the obvious weaknesses at Ugglemattersby School and a full inspection was to be organised and that I should get on with it.

I emerged from my reverie about the tiresome day when the man who had just come to sit on the next seat engaged me in conversation. "Good evening, Mr. Phinn."

I turned to face the florid countenance and great walrus moustache of Lord Marrick.

"Oh, good evening, Lord Marrick," I replied.

"I'm a governor here, you know," he said, explaining his presence at the school play. "Like to show the flag, support the school and all that. Actually, I'm glad I've b.u.mped into you. Just this week sent a letter off to Dr. Gore thanking you and your colleagues for all the help with the Feoffees Pageant. Went off really well."

"Yes, it seemed to be a great success," I said.

"Cracking day!" he exclaimed.

I put my arm around Christine's shoulders and nudged her forward. "Lord Marrick, may I introduce you to Christine Bentley, Headteacher of Winnery Nook Infant and Nursery School?"

Lord Marrick leaned across me, took Christine's hand in his, patted it gently and smiled warmly. "Very pleased to meet you, Miss Bentley."

At this point we both caught sight of a large figure ambling towards the front of the hall. I recognised the thick neck, vast red face, purple pitted nose and mop of unnaturally s.h.i.+ny, jet black hair. It was Councillor Peterson.

"Good G.o.d!" exclaimed Lord Marrick, turning towards me. "I hope George Peterson isn't going to inflict himself on us. I've never met a man who can talk like him. Case of verbal diarrhoea. Pain in the proverbials, he is." The councillor spotted us, waved and headed in our direction. "He's seen us! He's coming over. Brace yourself, Mr. Phinn."

Just at that moment the lights began to fade, the orchestra stopped tuning up and the conductor, a dapper little man in a dinner jacket, made his entrance. Councillor Peterson thought better of coming over to us and found a seat further along the row. Both Lord Marrick and I sighed with relief.

"Have you met Councillor Peterson?" Lord Marrick whispered.

"Yes," I replied, "I've met him."

I had seen umpteen school productions of Oliver! but this was the first where live animals formed part of the cast. I had advised the Head of Drama, when he telephoned me before Easter to invite me to the performance, that it was extremely risky to have animals on stage. Children were unpredictable enough, but animals! He told me that the cat and dog he planned to use were very well trained and that he wanted this production to be as authentic, different and memorable as possible. He ignored my advice.

All went well in the first half of the show. In Act I, Widow Corney's cat behaved impeccably, purring and mewing at just the right moments to the delight of the audience. When Mr. b.u.mble stroked its head, it meowed and yawned widely as if it had rehea.r.s.ed this very movement; it received a well-deserved flutter of applause. The fat, bow-legged bull terrier, Bullseye, pulled on to the stage by the fearsome-looking Head of the PE Department playing the part of the villain, Bill Sikes, also behaved remarkably well. It sat obediently when commanded, growling on cue and even snarling when f.a.gin appeared. It was a vicious-looking creature with a body like a small white barrel and when it yawned it displayed a set of serrated teeth of frightening proportions. The Head of PE really took on the part of the bullying thief with a vengeance. He was a huge, hairy, swarthy complexioned individual with a great booming voice and a twisted sneer. He roared and threatened, banging his cudgel so hard on tables, chairs and anything in his path that the very stage set shook. The children in f.a.gin's gang looked genuinely terrified of him.

It happened in the very last act. Nancy (the Head of the Food Technology Department) had just finished a rousing rendering of'As Long As He Needs Me'. She had put her heart and soul into the singing because it was the last night and all her family and friends occupied a large block of seats in the middle of the hall. They had shown loud appreciation every time she had made an appearance on stage. It was the denouement of the drama. Nancy had brought Oliver to the meeting place on London Bridge to return him to his family but she had been followed by Bill Sikes. He entered a darkened stage dragging the fat, snarling brute behind him. The stumpy little tail was tucked down (not a good sign, I learned later), the barrel body was quivering and the small, grey, shark eyes looked distinctly sinister.

"What you doin' on London Bridge at this time o' night, Nancy, my gel?" growled Bill Sikes. The dog made a deep, low, rumbling sound.