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Her Cyberspanker Made Real
"Miss Paterson! Miss Paterson! My pencil's broke!"

"Can I go to the toilet?"

"Miss! Miss! What's a verb again?"

"I've lost my jotter!"

Jenny Paterson rubbed her temples wearily, and surveyed the chaos that was her classroom. Twenty-nine eleven and twelve year olds could make one heck of a noise - as well as a mess.

A few of them, she had to admit, were at least trying to do the grammar exercise she had set, but most were rampaging around, hitting each other with rulers, and throwing paper-clips and occasional obscenities around the room. Some of the more literate ones were actually writing the obscenities on the desks.

At the end of her tether, Jenny did something to which she seldom resorted. She yelled. "Shut up!"

There was a stunned silence. A paper aeroplane sailed past Jenny's right ear, and she caught it neatly before continuing. "Now, 1D, I do not want to hear another word from you this period - I said not another word, John Allen -" as said child opened his mouth. "If your pencil is - the word is 'broken', Charlene - then sharpen it. No, Jason, you may not go to the toilet - it will be lunchtime in quarter of an hour. A verb, Daniel, for the umpteenth time - is a word which expresses action or a state of being - a 'doing' word, if you prefer. Kerry, your jotter is on the floor where you threw it. Pick it up and get writing - now!"

For fifteen blessed minutes, peace reigned. Instead of moving around the class, helping the slower pupils as she usually did, Jenny stalked up and down between the rows of desks, glaring at any child who appeared to be breathing out of turn.

At last the bell rang to signal the end of the period, and Jenny tottered thankfully to the staff-room. She threw herself disconsolately into a chair and sighed.

"Having a bad day?" came a voice from beside the coffee machine.

Jenny started - she'd not noticed the tall figure of Terry Johnston, the history teacher. "Oh - sorry, I didn't see you. Bad day? Every day is a bad day with 1D!"

He chuckled. "I know. I have them too. Never known a first year class like them in twenty years. Want a cuppa?"

"Oh, yes, please. With brandy if you've got any!"

"Sorry - hip-flask is empty. I finished it when I had 1D!" He gave her a grin, and sat in the chair opposite, handing her a steaming mug of coffee as he did so.

Blushing slightly, Jenny returned his smile and took the mug from him. She admired his strong hands, and wondered - No! She cut that thought off sharply. There was no way she could ever admit that she harboured fantasies about him - especially the kind of fantasies she had.