Adele was angry with herself. She didn't want to be late on her first day at work but the party the night before had left her with a terrible hangover and she had overslept, forgetting to set the alarm on her phone. Therefore, after taking a cold shower, quickly grabbing an espresso from her Nespresso machine and spending a lot of time getting dressed to her satisfaction she had had to call a cab. By the time the taxi driver dropped her off outside the school gates she had calmed down enough to be able to focus on the day ahead. The school had given her her timetable and she had met her Head of Department, Principal and some other teachers a few days ago during her induction day but most of it had been spent fixing her classroom, arranging the seats as she wanted, and preparing her lesson plans for her classes for her first week.
Thus it was that she found her own way from the taxi to her first class. It had been the room she had had her lessons in French literature when she was a student there herself more than a decade ago but now it was used for English Literature and it was her room (which she shared with another teacher). It also served as her office. Her first class of the day was a Year 11 class, just starting their two year Baccalaureate. When she entered the room, her professionalism kicked in and her nerves disappeared. On the board she had written a quote in English from E.M. Forster (without naming him) - 'if I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country'- and then asked the 7 girls and 9 boys in her class if they agreed with it and, finally, if they knew whom it was by?
The discussion was heated with polarized views and the students were engaged. They would be studying Forster's Passage to India and Maurice but she would begin with telling them about his life. That was the plan. Chuffed with her first lesson, she went to the staff room to get a coffee and take a well earned rest as her next teaching period was not until after morning break.
Also, as the recent email reminded her, all staff were expected to attend the morning break in the staff room where announcements and other staff notices were given. Today, she would be introduced formally to all of the staff present by the Principal, a balding, rotund man who had once been a Latin teacher.
After she had been introduced she said a few stock words about herself, 'I'm Adele and yes I used to go to this school as a student. I am happy to be here now and look forward to working with all of you.' She needed a cigarette, desperately, but the staff room was now a no smoking zone. She checked her timetable - stuck to the back cover of her iPhone with sellotape -and saw she had about 40 minutes before the start of her next class. She should use it to go over her lesson plan for the next class but as it was the same course she had taught earlier in the morning but to a different class she would just repeat the same lesson that she'd already , she knew where she could go to have a smoke - it was where the senior students had gone and the teachers even a decade ago– behind the outdoor stairs she had sat on every day. She quickly strode to the same black metal stairway and, checking that there was no one else around, she sat on the third step from the bottom and took out a cigarette – or tried to. She realised that she had forgotten to pack them in her handbag in her rush that morning. She swore loudly in French. 'Merde!'
She rummaged through her bag again, pulling out the contents and putting them on the stair next to her: a second hand novel she was reading which she'd bought at Shakespeare & Co., the famous Parisian bookstore during her last visit to the French capital; some used metro tickets; a packet of tissues; a travel sized perfume spray (Coco eau de parfum by Chanel) some condoms; a toothbrush and paste; a bunch of biro pens; her moleskin diary; and a cheap lighter. She shoved them back in, cross with herself, her head still in her bag, when a voice made her start, and she looked up. 'Want a cigarette?' it asked?
She smiled her goofy, lopsided smile, her eyes brightening. 'Sure!'
Without paying much attention to the person attached to the outstretched arm, Adele took the slim cigarette from her benefactor and lit it with her own lighter, taking a long draw and slowly exhaling the pungent smoke. It was a menthol cigarette.
'Merci' she said, smiling and looking up. At that moment a student walked past in skinny white jeans and a crop top and Adele's eyes followed her behind as she walked away. 'Still checking out asses, eh?' laughed the woman who had given her the cigarette.