|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Jul 29, 2007 2:04 am
"One doesn't have to like one's job to be good at it," huffed Percival, decidedly off-put, "and one certainly doesn't have to like children to work in a building which contains them. For my job it makes no difference at all. If anything, I should think it makes me better at the task." He decided this would be a good point to pour himself a glass of the wine and did so.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jul 29, 2007 2:08 am
"Of course you needn't personally like them," she huffed - a fairly similar huff - "upon all accounts they are murderous little tyrants. And I'm not preaching, but try to have their best interests at heart in the end. The children in my class will have nothing but respect for their Vice Principal and all senior management, so I hope you'll try to give them a wave and fake a smile when they greet you."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jul 29, 2007 2:16 am
Percival scoffed. He rarely smiled genuinely, why would he want to fake it? He shook his head. "I daren't say that would work. They can smell insincerity and fakery a mile away. It is, I quite believe, their internal signal to attack."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jul 29, 2007 2:20 am
Beatrix looked perplexed and popped another apple slice in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before she swallowed. "Good gracious, the eldest one in my class is nine at a stretch. What on earth would they do to you? You could have them writing lines until the cows came home."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2007 4:41 pm
"And I'd rather not," said Percival, "because that would take time away from my work." He stuffed half a potato in his mouth to shut himself up, knowing full well he'd lost his cool. All this talk of children brought up so many bad memories. No matter what Beatrix might say, Percival knew firsthand just how cruel children could be, even to adults.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 12:14 am
There was a moment of awkward silence as both ate their food in - well - peace; both a little peeved - definitely peeved in Beatrix's case - that she had lost her composure. Who cared? It was only the Vice Principal; although it was unusual to have one totally uninterested in pedagogy, he didn't suffer any pangs of guilt about it, so she didn't have to waste her time chiding him about it. Just another office-bound workaholic (she thought, entirely hypocritically).
Unfortunately, she was too dredgingly well-bred to let the conversation die a drifting, uncomfortable death. "So where are you from?" she said briskly. "I can't place the accent. Sussex?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 10:14 am
"Southampton, actually, though, ah, my mother..." Percival swallowed and made a face as if the wine had gone sour. He felt he owed it to explain the slight variance in his accent. "My mother is from Wales. Yourself?" He blurted the last word a little too quickly, not eager to dwell on his Welsh heritage, or anything to do with his mother. He loved her dearly and would never see her again for as long as he lived. It was part of the price he paid for getting a second chance.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 6:41 pm
"My mother came from Dorset," Beatrix said, starting to demonstrate the same discomfort: she, too, would never see her parents again, for hugely different reasons and her own choice. Her mouth twisted a little. "She died when I was young. - My father was London-born, as was I."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 7:18 pm
"I was killed in London," said Percival suddenly, and then, completely horrified by his own words, attempted to inhale an entire glass of wine.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 7:20 pm
Beatrix was nearly desperately relieved. At least the twitchy vice-principal was just as bizarre as she was. Of course, it was a bit undignified to mention your own death in a staffroom, but never mind.
"Chin up," she said bracingly. "Hard luck, but there's worse places to die, I imagine."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 8:10 pm
Percival choked a little on his wine and quickly thumped himself on the chest, putting the glass down. "Sorry about that," he coughed. "Force of habit. A friend of mine, or rather, my former employer, seems to bring up London every time I see him, so I've to forcibly remind him why it's not a topic for discussion, you see." He really rather hoped Beatrix did see, and furthermore was polite enough to quickly offer yet another change af conversation, which she seemed to be adept at. (He could do it quite well, too, when he felt he had an appropriate opening. At the moment he was more on the receiving end.)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 8:17 pm
She took the bait. It was hard not to. "Well, I can't say I want to be reminded of London either," she said firmly, thusly creating it a taboo topic forever between them. "So what do you do, if you don't mind me asking? Not as a vice-principal, I mean. Why don't you just tell me something about yourself? We are professional co-workers, you know. It needn't be anything too onerous or personal."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 10:56 pm
"I trained as a butler," said Percival, relaxing. "And served as valet to the younger Lord Nightingale. There isn't much call for that sort of thing here, and even if there were I'm not sure I'd go back to doing it. The world seems to have lost its respect for our greatest traditions. There isn't really much place for my line of work. Everything's gone to the convenience of being automatic." It was a sentiment to which he was certain Beatrix would agree.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 11:46 pm
"Oh, quite, quite," Beatrix said with feeling. "My grandparents still had a butler and servants at Montgomery House when I was young - " that was a slip, but who cared - "but that all disappeared as I got older; soon they just had a few hired help. Technology is replacing the human touch. It's tragic, really. Very sterile."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 23, 2007 8:16 pm
In a tone of hushed conspiracy, of speaking blasphemous words, or perhaps the name of Lord Voldemort, Percival said, "They've even devised automatic tea machines." He shuddered in total revulsion at this development. He tried to say more, but the horror was so great he was reduced to quietly shaking his head.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
