4. Dikkerby Makes It To The Top

4.                                            Dikkerby Makes it to the Top

The Headmaster’s office was as large as a classroom. There was an enormous desk. The swivel chair behind it was occupied by the new Headmaster at present. He reached forward and adjusted the pens; smallest to largest was the right order. He sat back in the chair and spun slowly round, admiring his surroundings.
Tasteful paintings on the walls. Wood panelling. An old school photograph in black and white. A book-case with the right books. The two leather armchairs with their matching settee. He sighed with deep satisfaction. He’d made it.
            He leaned forward and pressed the intercom, “Julia, could you bring me the list of new entries? Oh and a cup of tea would be lovely.” He cut the connection. He had plans to draw up. He stood up and began to walk around the office, hands clasped behind his back.
“I must have lots of pupils. I will “charm” parents out of their hard-earned cash. There will be new buildings. They will bear a plaque, a brass plaque with my name! Results will be good, no excellent – by hook or by crook. Boys will have short hair. Teachers will do what they’re told. I will begin as I mean to ......ah Julia! “ He took the cup of tea. His look of alarm was quickly spotted by the elderly Julia. She wrinkled her nose.
            “Is something wrong Mr Dikkerby?”
“Headmaster, please. You will at all times address me as “Headmaster” and refer to me always as “The Headmaster”, as in “The Headmaster will see you shortly. Is that understood? “ She nodded. The nose wrinkling was becoming an irritation. “In future, Julia, the tea will be Earl Grey and it will be presented in a bone china tea-pot with a matching cup. If such articles are not already in situ then it is your job to acquire them.”
The poor woman looked as though she was about to wet herself.
“ What? Don’t you understand English. I don’t want a bloody mug! I want a proper tea cup. I am “The Headmaster” ( she could see the speech marks in the air between them) not some scruffy plumber on site. Capish?” She nodded violently.
            “Now, sit down. Pad? Pen? Ready? Agenda for First Staff Meeting. 1. Welcome. 2. Dress code. 3. Lesson Plans. 4. Extra unpaid clubs. 5. Extra Parents’ Evenings brackets times two close brackets. 6. Reports and how to write them with a Copperplate pen. 7. Withdrawal of break-times. 7. Early start dash six a.m. 8. Late finish. Six thirty p. M. 9. Reduction in pay. 10. Withdrawal of all pension contributions.”
            Five minutes later Julia’s pencil broke. She was on number 36. Dikkerby had sat down. He steepled his fingers and glared at the secretary.
            “That will do for now! Type that up. I want it on my desk in three minutes. Dismissed!” He barked the last word. She fled. Dikkerby put his hands behind his head and smiled broadly.
            “This is going to be fun!” He said to himself.
            Forty minutes later he walked into the staffroom. They were all sitting there looking expectantly at him. He waited by his special chair. It took a hand gesture for them all to get the message. They stood. Quite right.  Dikkerby sat down at his papers.
The teachers nervously and uncertainly sat down. Dikkerby had earlier had all the comfortable chairs replaced with straight-backed wooden chairs. They’d learn soon enough. Dikkerby was not to be trifled with.
            “Good morning gentlemen (he paused) and ladies. Let us begin!”
The staff meeting, his first, began at 9.05 that Tuesday morning. It came to a close at 12.24.” Dikkerby tidied his papers and stood. He had to wait only a moment or two till all the teachers rose to their feet. His exit was accompanied by a stunned and fearful silence.
            “The Headmaster” had begun.


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