jtd@dec.uk.net

Most people thought I was mad when I gave up a bloody good job to work freelance. They prophesied doom, gloom and poverty but I proved them wrong in the end. It’s true that starting my own business was indeed hard work but I think it paid off eventually.

Initially there was little work and I spent my days preparing documents that might just come in useful to my consultancy business. Three weeks in I almost convinced myself that I should open the newspaper and pick a job out at random to sedate my innermost doubts and anxieties but my resolve remained firm.

Gradually, as the months passed, business picked up and I began to get noticed by other schools and they secured my time completing various pieces of educational consultancy, which filled my business account and time beautifully. My great break came one morning as I was lying in bed at 10.00am. It was a Monday morning and I was enjoying my freedom as I listened to the end of the morning story on Radio 4. The phone rang and I reached over to retrieve the handset without letting the cold morning air invade my warm, snugly duvet.

To be honest the call took me totally unaware as I had forgotten the brief interview with that particular company some weeks before. The offer was amazing and, of course, I accepted at once.

The following morning, the city ground heavy laden with frost, I emerged from the underground into a filthy London street covered with litter, rotting vegetables and scum. The place was a tip and I wondered why I had agreed to this. With a brave heart and rather too much stupidity I stepped over the rotting carcass of a former chicken and headed towards St. Jerome’s primary school. After all I had been contracted for two terms to pull the school around and the thought of £400 per day, a mobile phone and all expenses paid cheered me somewhat. To my surprise two, large, muscular black men blocked my way. They just stared at me with their large, brown, expressionless eyes. I smiled benevolently and tried to pass the two titans. They moved to block my way and a large, muscular, tattooed arm was placed between two metal columns blocking my only remaining exit. I wondered what they wanted. They must want money. My phone? I pulled out my wallet and phone and put them into the nearest hand to speed up the process. The men looked surprised and looked at each other. I expected them to run off but they just moved in closer and replaced my valuables into my coat pocket. I was shitting it. My time had come and I prepared to feel cold steel between my ribs.

"Why don’t you just get back on the train and piss off?" said one of the men flashing his gold teeth in the early winter sun.

"I’ve got a job to do. Leave me alone!" I ordered with more bravery than I felt.

"You can’t go to St. Jerome’s. Just get back on the train!" suggested the other pushing me lightly on the shoulder.

I spent the next ten minutes explaining to my new captors why I had to go and following a little bit of pushing and shoving they left me to make my way to my new school. What a weird start, I thought. I turned the corner and saw the school building before me. It was not what I had expected. The building was delightful and only a few years old constructed in the modern utilitarian style with glass, brick and concrete. The grounds were neat and tidy and the ornamental pond filled with clear water and pond life. I walked up the pathway and saw the statue of St. Jerome nestling behind a young willow tree.

St. Jerome held his head despondently in his stone hands and his demeanour reflected my own. I shrugged it off and opened the front door. The smell of polish and old PE kit hit my nostrils and I felt at home. I moved towards the reception hatchway and saw an officious woman dressed in an ill-fitting cardigan look up from the paperwork that littered her workspace.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I’m Roger Jones."

"Oh yes, we were expecting you. Just pull the door and I’ll let you in."

I pulled and she let me in.

"Follow me and I’ll take you to the staff room."

"I’d rather go straight to my office if you don’t mind."

"That won’t be possible. Mr Ratcliffe is cleaning it up. We had a little bit of an accident. It should be OK by lunchtime." She continued to walk and I stood still. Eventually she noticed I wasn’t behind her and she caught up with me as I stood standing in the doorway to the headteacher’s office. The modern office was spacious and well lit but there was a most curious, acrid smell in the room. My eyes scanned around the room to locate the source of the foul stench and they fell upon the rear end of one Mr Ratcliffe, the caretaker who was on his hands and knees on the floor towards the corner of the room.

"Hello, I’m Roger Jones, the new head," I said cheerfully.

After a lot of huffing and puffing a red faced, overweight middle-aged man turned and rose slowly to his feet.

"What’s been going on here then?" I asked as I held out my hand in friendship.

"Just a little spillage, nothing to worry about, " he replied deliberately blocking my view of the olfactory source as he firmly shook my hand.

"Can I help?"

"No. Just give me a few minutes and your room will be ready, Mr Jones."

I pushed him out of the way and saw, to my horror, a pile of documents covered and stained with a yellow liquid. It was piss, no doubt about it.

"Is this some kind of welcoming present?" I joked.

"Mr Jones, please let me get on with my work," he replied pushing me gently towards to the door into the waiting clutches of Ms Tangent, the school’s administrative officer. As I walked through the office door the light fitting above came away from the ceiling and swung heavily in front of me nearly taking my head off. I was swiftly placed in the staff room to wait for the chair of governors to arrive for my briefing. What the hell had I done?

A few minutes later a cheerfully large and bubbly lady walked into the room. She was dressed in black trousers, a clerical collar and a bright waistcoat. Her chubby hand reached out towards me and I met it recognising the Revd Ann Parker, my new chair of governors. We smiled and sat around the large table in the staff room.

"Good to meet you, Mr Jones."

"Please call me Roger."

"You must call me Ann then," she replied offering a quirky smile similar to a baby with wind prior to burping. "There are some things you need to know, Roger."

Ann explained that the previous headteacher had left under unpleasant circumstances. From what she said it appeared that Arcadia Mulle had fallen out with several parents and was dismissed to protect the reputation of the school. I felt that Ann was not telling the whole truth so I mentioned the urine stained documents in the office. Her face visibly paled and she lost her former cheerful demeanour. I could tell that she was searching for a strategic answer that would be plausible and honest.

"Arcadia Mulle belonged to an extreme Christian sect founded in the Caribbean. When we appointed her this was not known to us and she came with the highest references and credentials. To begin with we were happy and then parental complaints started to pour in."

"What were the parents complaining about?" I asked sipping my cup of lukewarm coffee.

"Some children complained of bizarre punishments. Some were locked in the stockroom, others made to stand in the wastepaper bin outside the office. One child said that she saw an effigy of herself in the headteacher’s office with pins sticking in her arm."

"How strange and most unorthodox!"

"One day I received a letter saying that a particular arrangement of coloured candles had appeared on the assembly hall altar. It seemed that the four blue, three green and one pink candles arranged in a square was a powerful talisman for the Judas Sect. They empowered the person who evoked the charm, in this case Arcadia Mulle."

"What did you do?"

"I researched the sect, found the facts to be true and then challenged her one Monday morning after assembly, just two weeks ago. Of course she denied everything but I could tell that I had rattled her cage! At the end of our meeting she mumbled something incomprehensible as I left the room. I had no alternative than to call an emergency governors’ meeting for the same evening."

"How horrible!"

"Things took a turn for the worse. When I was walking back to the vicarage a lorry mounted the pavement and headed straight for me. I jumped over a low retaining wall outside number 56 and the lorry came to rest in the foyer of the community centre. The driver was arrested and he later explained to the police that he had lost control of the vehicle and the brakes and steering had stopped working. Is that the time? I’ve got to take a home communion service in three minutes time. I’ll call back later. Please excuse me." Ann left the room and I walked back to my office feeling rather unsettled.

There was a lingering smell of disinfectant within the room but all had been carefully tidied up. I sat at the desk and started the computer. When the desktop appeared there was a hideous image of a sacrificed sheep with its entrails exposed. The resulting blood had been used to draw several symbols on the marble surface. I was shocked but carefully copied the symbols onto a piece of paper for later reference. I changed the desktop image to a ‘Windows Special’ and saved the original file. I started to read the post as the children started to arrive.

After registration I sat quietly in the hall waiting for the children to come into assembly. I was amazed that they came in silently and sat almost zombie like on the highly polished floor. Each child stared at the floor carefully avoiding my eye contact. The teachers came in without acknowledging my presence and left the hall immediately. One child in year two looked up at me and quickly looked away before I could smile.

"Good morning everyone!" No answer came but the same child looked up again. "Good morning to you. What’s your name?"

"Please sir, I didn’t mean it. Please forgive me!" screamed the child. I was taken by surprise when the child stood up and walked over to the bin in the corner. To my horror he removed his shoes and socks and stood in the bin placing his hands over his eyes in terror. I looked around the hall, not one eye was looking at me and they all looked terrified. It was time for decisive action. I cleared my throat,

"Now I don’t know what has been going on but things are going to change around here!" I walked over to the terrified boy and lifted him out of the bin. I sat him on a chair and put his socks and shoes on. He started to cry loudly. I noticed that some of the children were beginning to look up to see what was going on. "I would like everyone to look at me. That’s better. My name is Mr Jones and I’m your new headteacher for the next few terms."

By the end pf the assembly the children appeared to be a little more relaxed but they would not talk to me. They left in silence and returned to their classrooms. I went into the school office and asked Ms Tangent a series of pertinent questions. I returned to my office to record some of my findings and to plan the way forward. I was horrified to see an effigy of me sitting on the desk. Five pins were stuck into the head and I carefully removed them as the office door opened.

"Oh, I see you got one as well. When will Arcadia Mulle give this up?" said Ann Parker as she settled on the easy chair. "Now where were we?"

"You were telling me about the lorry incident."

The next two hours were filled with mystery and terror as Ann explained about the curse placed on the school by Arcadia Mulle. Ann described the action taken by the governors to remove the curse and spoke of the Exorcism Prayer Walk around the school building. This powerful act of faith was not enough to lift the curse so the Diocesan Exorcists were called into the school over a weekend. Things improved from this point until the governors realised that Arcadia Mulle still had the pass key and school security codes. She had left various curse objects around the school and the whole unpleasant atmosphere returned. Her final act of revenge was to relieve herself on the financial documents in her office.

I did not know what to say. I remained pale and speechless sitting at my desk.

"Roger I would understand if you wanted to leave now."

"I’m not sure. I do believe you but I find it hard to reconcile what you say to my own Christian beliefs."

"I understand. I will make sure that you are paid for the week for your trouble."

I considered her tempting offer, as it would be so easy to walk away form this sordid business.

"No, the kids need me and I’ll stay!"

"Good. We have many things to sort out which we can chat about over lunch."

Sitting on the tube going home after the eventful day I mulled over the facts. I wondered if I had made the right decision but only time would tell.