I Don’t Care Who Started. It is essentially a semiautobiographical novel. Having spent nearly forty years in the UK state education system I had many stories to tell. I chose to fictionalise them not only to protect myself but those involved. My work life was essentially happy and filled with fun, I met so many amazing adults and children that I am sure you will recognize as ‘types’ that you too may have encountered.

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Spring was in the air, the sun was shining and the daffodils were everywhere. This was the time of year when some children eventually came out of their shells. Their behaviour grew more confident and they felt comfortable in their year group. Katy Bates, the same Katy Bates whose mum had had to cancel her hair appointment due to a snow emergency sat in my office. I sat behind my desk and Mary Johnson sat at hers. Katy looked sheepish.  I looked at Mary and she tried to repress a grin. I was struggling too, but this did have a serious side.

“So Katy, tell me what you’ve been up to?” I spoke kindly and smiled at her. Katy was in Year Nine; she was just fourteen.

“What do you mean, sir?”  her head was bowed slightly; she knew exactly what I meant.

“Well, tell me why you are here, sitting in my office?” Again, I spoke gently not wanting to upset her.  She shrugged in the way only a sulky teenager can do.

“Dunno,” she said.  Mary chipped in to move the interview along. She was going to play bad cop to my good cop.  Her voice was sterner and carried a gentle threat. “Katy, stop wasting time. Tell us why Miss Smith brought you to us here in the office. What were you doing?”

“She told you, you already know. So why are you asking?”

“Because we want to hear your side of the story.” I was trying not to smile.

“Why were you doing what you were doing in Miss Smith’s lesson?”  Mary again playing it tough. Again Katy shrugged. “Dunno, I was bored?”

“Ok,” I said, “let’s try another approach shall we?”  I picked up a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs from my desk. The sort you can buy from an adult shop. I held them up, desperately trying not to smile. “Katy, please can you explain why you have these handcuffs and why you handcuffed Simon Thomas to his chair in your English lesson?” The handcuffs dangled from my hand. The key was on my desk, it too had a pink fluffy fob attached.

“Katy, this is very serious.” Mary sounded stern. “Not only have you caused major disruption to a lesson, but you are in possession of items that a child of your age should not have.”  As Mary was speaking I was biting my lip, trying not to laugh. Yes, it was serious, the disruption to the lesson was major. Simon Thomas had tried to escape, he had stood up, raised his arm and his chair came with it. Chaos ensued and he fell over. The class was shouting, thinking there was a fight. Ms Smith had trouble restoring order and had called for Mary or me to sort it out.

“Katy, where did you get them? These are not children’s toys. You could have hurt Simon; he could have broken his arm in the struggle.” I was still trying to play good cop, keeping my voice calm.

“I would have let him go, he didn’t need to panic. It was only a wind-up. He wanted me to do it. We were just messing about.” Katy slumped a bit in her seat, a sense of defeat emerging.

“Ok, thank you for being so honest. Now Katy, please tell us where you got these. Did you find them? Did you buy them? If you did, the shopkeeper will be in serious trouble.” I was pretty sure I knew where they came from but I needed to hear it from Katy.

“You are in trouble for the disruption, don’t make it worse.” Mary was still playing her part.

Katy sighed, “They’re my mum’s.  I found them in her bedroom drawer. I don’t know why she’s got them, or where they came from. I just took them because they looked funny. I thought it would be a laugh to bring them to school.”

I looked at Mary and we both smiled, trying not to laugh.

“Thank you, Katy. I will keep these here for safe keeping and call your mum and let her know that we have them. She can come and collect them in person. I am afraid you can’t have them back. It’s not safe.”  Inside I was laughing and at the same time trying not to imagine Katy’s mum, her bedroom or her using the handcuffs.

“Please sir, she’ll kill me.”

“I’m sorry Katy. I am afraid they are your mum’s and she will need to collect them. Mrs Johnson, can you issue a detention slip for Katy for the disruption to the lesson.” I smiled at Katy.

“Sir, that’s not fair. It wasn’t just me. Simon wanted to do it too.” Katy was getting agitated now.

“We’ll talk to Simon Thomas and see what he says” Mary handed Katy the slip. “I expect he’ll get a detention as well.” Just then the bell went for break time, and children emerged from rooms, talking, shouting and running out to be the first in the queue in the canteen.

“OK, Katy off you go,” I said and sighed. She stood, glared at us both and left. She slammed the door behind her. For a second, there was silence then we both burst out laughing.

“Denise Bates is not available, please leave a message after the tone.” The recorded voice of Denise Bates rang out of the speaker from my office phone. Mary and I sat and waited for the beep of the machine.

‘Beep’ went the answering machine. “Good morning Mrs Bates, it is Mr Turner here, from South Coast Comprehensive. I am afraid Katy has got herself into a bit of trouble today. She borrowed your pink fluffy handcuffs from your bedroom drawer and brought them into school. She handcuffed a boy to a chair which caused a major disruption to the lesson. Katy will be punished for her actions, but we cannot return the item to her as they are of an adult nature.” I winked mischievously at Mary. “So if you give me a call you can arrange to come and collect them from me.” I reeled off the office phone number and extension. “I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you. Goodbye.” I put the phone down and sat back. We both grinned like school kids pulling a phone prank.

Strangely we never heard from Mrs Bates again for the entire time Katy was at school.