Supply (Teacher) and Demand

Posted on Tue Jan 28th, 2025 @ 20:47 by Scott Jones & Eleanore Vance

Chapter: Besieged
Location: New Cresthill School
Timeline: Monday, 1st Febuary 1993
1695 words - 3.4 OF Standard Post Measure

As was the tradition with supply teaching at the time, Scott phoned the local education department number after 8 a.m. to enquire about any supply work going on in the area. Usually, if you had your landline, you would be phoned directly, but when traveling this was the next best thing. Luckily, the local primary school needed someone for the day, so donning his best work clothes that could cover a multitude of lessons, he headed off... after asking directions downstairs from where his room was.

It would be a brisk ten-minute walk till the quaint village school appeared into view, the type that had had a thatched roof at one point in its lifetime and had multiple extensions over the years to cover the growing needs of the school and the local area. As he had done multiple times before in his life, he pressed the buzzer for the school intercom and placed his ear at the speaker awaiting a reply. With it being still as early in the morning, he hoped someone was there.

The thatched cottages and narrow streets where you couldn’t comfortably leave a parked car were part of the charm of Cresthill. Whilst she did miss the hustle of London, the town was now her home. Though it was incredibly awkward, she always made sure to arrive after Thomas. Eleanore had been delivering Mrs McInally her glass cafetiere in ofference of a fresh cup. It was one of the luxuries she kept even if it meant collecting bags of coffee from the Post Office.

Conveniently, the older woman was on the phone dealing with an absence report. Not being one to ignore a phone or a buzzer she leaned in close to the speaker, “Hello, can I help you?” She was distinctly not Scottish and very well-spoken. Her body shifted slightly with a further duck to see if she could catch a glimpse through the window as to who it might be. “Are we expecting anyone?” The words were mouthed and still ignored by Mrs McInally. There was a shrill screech of static, “Just come to reception.” She ushered with a wince.

Walking up to the window into reception, Scott held up the local council badge he had been given when signing up to do supply work in the area. It was your standard name, picture, and employee number. "Hi, I'm Scott, the council said you needed someone to cover a class today?" He did his best to remain warm, open, and relatively cheery so he passed off as just a friendly face passing through. He adjusted his satchel bag as well which had begun to slip off his shoulder.

“Oh! They’ve finally sent someone.” Eleanore leaned over through the open sliding window, the older woman still arguing the toss on 48 hours before returning to school following sickness. “Fantastic. Uh, do you have the rest of your documents? Or has Mrs McInally already checked things for you? Sorry, I don’t know how long she’ll be … she does love a heated discussion about bodily fluids.”

Blindly she rummaged through a series of mailing trays looking for the name Scott. “Wait. I’ve got it. Scott, Scott Jones?” ID copies, National Insurance, and Bank Details all very securely stored, ready to be processed. She held out her hand, ready to check everything matched. “Have you just been looking for work all over?” She enquired trying to fill the time whilst the conversation beside her started to get heated.

Scott raised an eyebrow and cocked a smile at the word 'very'. "Pretty much, I wanted to take a little bit of a break and travel around the country for a while and schools are always looking for supply teachers. Plus it helps widen my experience should I ever go looking for a permanent job again," none of which was true and was just the cover story he was making up on the spot. He never considered being asked questions like this before, his usual experience with supply thus far was to come in, do the job, make a few pleasant conversations about the weather, do the marking for the day, and leave. "What stage are you needing to be covered?" he went to his bag where he kept a folder of a days worth of work for whatever primary stage he could be placed into as well as a few high school subjects he was permitted to teach up to a certain level, usually just literacy and maths.

“I do love good travel, " she admitted with a smile. Her eyes scanned over everything, all in check, it seemed. “Well, as we are a more rural school, one teacher covers the entire day of education for a class. Unfortunately, there are not enough of us to separate subjects.” After returning his documents to the very secure tray she picked up a clipboard that was under Mrs McInally’s forearm, mouthing a silent apology.

“It looks like Moira is still out of action, so we have Year One, key stage one or…” Her fingers traced along the rudimentary hand-drawn chart. “Bugger. Year Five. Alasdair is still with the D.O.E., you might have met him when you sorted out your card. Ambitious chap.” Eleanore clutched the clipboard against her chest, “Both classes are under twenty children. It really depends on your preference, first come first serve.”

"A whole day with a class is what I do," Scott replied smiling, "and year one is good for me, I am not long out of a six-month stint in a primary one class covering someone's maternity leave, it is a fun stage. With the time of year, we are in, I should be able to pick up the phonics and reading programs with relative ease. I have a few stand-alone maths and topic lessons that usually are a lot of fun. Especially if the class has never covered the Fairytale Land fairy tales topic, usually I can turn it into a whole day event that can cover a lot of areas of the curriculum."

Eleanore’s lips parted slightly lost for words, it’d been some time since she’d come across who was fresh and as keyed in rather than just going through the motions. She quickly scribbled his name on the chart and returned it to its prized place under the elbow of the elderly woman still berating someone over the phone.

“Come on through and I’ll take you down. Can I interest you like a tea or coffee?” She asked lifting her cafetiere with pride. She realised she’d not even taken the opportunity to introduce herself. Clutching the glass pot in one hand, she pulled open the stiff fire door to meet him on the other side. With a flick of her hand, she brushed out an errant crease from her mid-length skirt from leaning against the desk.

Scott raised a hand, waving both of it and shaking his head, "Oh, I have already had my coffee fix this morning, thank you," he began, "any more and everyone will start to question who is more hyper, the 5-year-old Primary 1 children or the teacher. Never a good combination." He gave a soft chuckle. "If you didn't mind showing me where the class is though and where I can get some photocopies of the planned tasks I have for today, that would be great," he said eagerly, "I know how precious we all can be about jotter work presentation, I always leave work I have done marked for the teacher and they can choose to stick it into their jotter or file it under 'b' for the bin."

"It's so refreshing to have someone so keyed in, not just here for the pay cheque and the lowest level of experience. Perhaps we can entice you to keep you around a bit longer." She gives him a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with a hint of playfulness. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Eleanore Vance... I, uh... I did lead Early Years, but as we've been short, I've been a bit of everything." She extends her hand to him, her touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. "Tom, Mr. Vance is our head, but I haven't seen him this morning. We have a rather... important... staff meeting during the first break. I'll show you the way."

"Morning break meetings are never fun, you aren't due a school inspection anytime soon are you?" Scott joked as he began to follow after shaking the woman's hand. "Usually those meetings are full of joy and happiness," he laid on the sarcasm a little thickly.

“No, not yet.” Her answer came quicker than it should have as she led them through the corridor. Tom hadn’t mentioned anything to her at home. That in itself made her feel uneasy but, her opinion on the matter was relevant. “Mmm, usually stale cigarettes and foul cups of instant coffee. The occasional home bake but I’d wary of anything not in Tupperware.”

Her head craned as she walked past the frosted window that marked the head’s office, the diffused outlines of potentially two people inside. She sighed softly and gestured ahead. “This is our crossroads. Keystage One is on the left and Two is on the right. Year One is down the far end.” She offered him a smile. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the office a little longer. Early Years is the secure doors just here.”

There was a resolute nod, “You’ve got no ... challenging behaviours, first bell is assembly and second is break. I think that’s about it.” A moment was taken to make sure nothing was missed. “I hope you have a lovely morning. Oh! Follow the smell of cigarettes for the teacher's lounge … it's like a slow stream of grim.”

"Oh," Scott paused before adding a very sarcastic yet playful, "joyful," before turning about, bracing himself for the day ahead in front of a new class of faces on which he would be lucky to remember a few names before break.