Teacher's Pet - 1. Chapter 1

“Ashley Leonard is a true artist. His work is exceptional. It is unthinkable that he should not go on to Art College. It is not even that I think he necessarily needs more training, it’s just for the experience, the connections he could make.”

“I’m not saying I disagree with you but you can’t make the boy apply if he doesn’t want to.”

Josh rolled his eyes. He was the new boy on the block and had the feeling that the headmaster, pleasant as he was, was humouring him for that very reason.

“I’m convinced it is not him... it’s his family. No offence, Mr Hendicott, but your average Valleys’ yob wouldn’t know his Matisse from his Monet.” The headmaster looked blank and Josh sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that someone like Ashley does not come along every day. He could really put this school on the map. Ash is going places, I just want to make sure they’re the right ones. With the right coaching now he could make it to the Royal Academy.”

“Again, I am not disagreeing with you but these things can’t be forced. There’s plenty of time for him Joshua, the boy’s barely nineteen. So what if he doesn’t go to university in October? There will always be another time, another chance.”

“I’m not so sure. I firmly believe that that the school is the only outlet for his talent. I persuaded him to join the local art society but he only went once or twice until some of the boys found out and teased him about it so much he gave up. I think perhaps his father put pressure on him too. I understand that he was not happy that Ash chose Art as an A level subject in the first place... not manly enough.”

“Mr Leonard is a....harsh man in many ways but he loves his children, he wants what’s best for them.”

“He thinks that what’s best for Ash is getting a job in the local factory as soon as he can leave school. He already thinks that Ash has wasted the last two years when he could have been working.”

“Well... you have to admit that Ash is not exactly the most academic student we have. He only barely managed to pass five ‘O’ Levels and it looks like he’s going to scrape through with a ‘D’ in his English ‘A’ Level, possibly a ‘C’ in Psychology.”

“He’s getting an ‘A’ in Art. It’s already in the bag. Ash is brighter than he seems. Alright he’s not the most academic student but he could do a lot better if he tried. The thing is he doesn’t want to try. He’s stubborn. He only works hard at what truly interests him. You’ve seen his work headmaster. It would be a crime to let that talent go to waste.”

“I agree with you. I have spoken to the boy myself about it and the truth is that, yes, he would like to go on to university or art college, yes he would like to make a career out of it but real life doesn’t work like that, it doesn’t necessarily give us what we would like, what we want... not around here.

“Ashley has no support from anywhere and without that he’s not got a chance. His father is putting a lot of pressure on him to start applying for jobs at the factory where he and Declan work and his mother is no better. Ashley has accepted that it isn’t going to happen and so should you.”

“But it’s not right. It's the twenty first century for god’s sake. Everyone should have the opportunity to better themselves, to have the opportunity to make it out there.”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda, Joshua. This is real life. In real life people make do, settle for what they can get, make the best of things. I appreciate it may not be fair but life isn’t fair. The fact of the matter is that if Ashley was saying to me that he wanted to go to university I would be doing the best I could to help him get there but, for whatever the reasons may be he is not saying that. Ashley is not expressing any wish to apply and, if I were you I would think very seriously before you start putting any more pressure on the boy, it's not fair, he’s under enough pressure as it is.”

“I’m not putting pressure on him. It’s just....”

Mr Hendicott was giving Josh a steely look and Josh knew full well what that meant. He wanted the subject dropped but Josh had no intention of doing that. Although he had only very recently qualified as a teacher and this was his first permanent post, he had already worked in enough schools in and around London to know that true talent was as rare as blue diamonds. Most of the teachers he had worked with and under had confessed that they had only ever found one or two true artists, the kind that cannot be taught but paint from some innate inner reservoir of talent, in their entire careers.

When he had come here, to the sleepy Welsh Valleys the last thing he had expected was to find such a pupil within his very first school, his very first term. It was literally like striking gold. He had no intention of letting that gold be squandered and dulled by the realities of life in one of the most depressed areas of the country.

“Joshua... I don’t know whether I ought to be saying this or not... term will be over soon and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to, but...” He paused and gave Josh a cold, appraising look that made him feel very uncomfortable. “Be careful. It’s been noted and commented on that you are... expending a lot of energy on Ashley, giving him a lot of time... sometimes to the detriment of your other pupils.”

“Oh it’s been commented on has it? I wonder if I can guess by whom. Not by someone who gives a damn about the rest of my pupils I’m sure. It's jealousy. I am certain that if those particular busy bodies found someone in their classes as skilled in their discipline they would be doing exactly the same thing.”

“Just be careful Josh. You have a lot of eyes on you at the moment, and they are all disapproving ones. And to add my own two cents worth... Ashley is a troubled and confused young man. He’s under a lot of pressure from a lot of sources and...”

“Oh. So that’s it. I was wondering how long it would be before tongues started wagging in that direction. Ashley is an artist, an incredibly talented artist. I will be lucky if I see another one like him in the entire rest of my career. I admit I have spent a lot of time and energy on him since I’ve been here and I don’t apologise for that. But surely you know that it has been a purely professional interest.”

Gritting his teeth Josh began to simmer, a familiar stab of anger twisting his guts. This was precisely what he had left London to escape.

“Josh I have asserted that very same thing on your behalf on more than one occasion, but you can’t stop tongues wagging and it isn’t just among the staff. Ashley had a hard enough time before all this started and now it is ten times worse.”

Josh was genuinely shocked. “What do you mean?”

“Josh... come on, don’t make me have to spell it out. Ashley is a very beautiful young man. He is gentle, sensitive and artistic. You do the maths. And then when an openly gay teacher comes to the school and starts paying a lot of attention to him what do you expect?”

“You mean that people are suggesting...?”

“No one is suggesting anything... they are merely... speculating.”

“Who’s speculating?”

“Everyone Josh. Staff... pupils... parents. I’ve had... complaints.”

“What!?” The outraged anger that had been crawling in his guts burst outwards, suffusing his body with red hot heat, making him want to punch the wall. Being unable to do anything of the kind with the headmaster’s steel grey eyes affixing him like a butterfly on a pin he simmered impotently.

“There are some parents who were uncomfortable with your appointment in the first place, and who are doing their best to find something to complain about, to prove themselves right. I am keeping them at bay but this thing with Ashley is not making it any easier for me.”

“There is no ‘thing’ with Ashley, at least not of the kind you are suggesting. How many times do I have to tell you that my interest in him is purely professional?”

“You can say it until you are blue in the face Josh... it’s what you do that’s important. I appreciate that it’s unfair but you have to be careful.”

Unfair? Too bloody right it was unfair. Almost choking on the righteous anger and frustration that threatened to overwhelm him Josh took a deep breath and made a concerted effort to calm himself, to force his voice to sound calm and reasonable.

“I am careful. Look... Ash is incredibly talented. You’ve seen his work. He could make a huge name for himself. It would bring recognition to the school. I have a professional duty to encourage him as much as I possibly can.”

“Encourage, yes... over indulge...” He paused. “Be careful Josh. In a couple of weeks term will be over and Ash will be gone. Try and get over this.”

“Get over what?”

“Just be careful Josh... and try to think of Ash.”

“I am... Oh what’s the use? I’m sick of this place already. I’m teaching Art to kids who wouldn’t know a masterpiece if it hit them in the face, dealing with colleagues who think my department is one step up from nursery school, parents who don’t seem to appreciate you can’t teach Jonny to paint if Jonny is a talentless philistine and then, when I do find someone with potential, a rare and precious talent, I’m accused of trying to seduce him. I give up.”

The headmaster smiled. “That’s what I like and admire most about you Josh... you never give up.”

Despite himself Josh had to smile but it didn’t last long as he turned and walked back to his classroom. How had a heartfelt, impassioned plea for a better future for one of his pupils suddenly turned into a personal attack on his sexuality? He sighed. Was this how it was always going to end, every time he took an interest in a pupil?

By this time he was back at the classroom. Thank god it was lunchtime. At least he would get a moment to think about things before he had to face anyone... and it was AS level after lunch... no one with as much talent as Ash but at least they were there because they wanted to be, because they had some interest in the subject. They were in the process of making clay manikins... or would that be wrong now... maybe they should stick to fruit, it was safer? He smiled bitterly as the semantics of his thoughts struck him.

Without meaning to he slammed the door behind him and slouched towards his desk... such as it was, being piled high with egg boxes, boxes of powder paint and what had once been neat stacks of different colours and kinds of paper. Slipping around behind the desk he rummaged in the drawer and fished out a battered packet of cigarettes. It was half empty and the lighter was jammed in among the remaining cigarettes. Teasing it out he lit a cigarette and took a deep draw.

“I thought you’d given up.”

The unexpected voice startled him so much he choked on the cigarette smoke and when he eventually looked up, his eyes streaming it was to see a pair of calm and faintly amused eyes regarding him around the edge of an easel which was set up in the far corner of the room. He had turned his back on it to come to his desk and so had not noticed that there was someone sitting there, quietly working. Hastily he stubbed out the cigarette on a pebble paperweight and flicked it into the bin.

“Ash? What are you doing here?”

“You said I could come and work on the exam piece whenever I wanted.”

“I know I did, and you can but I thought... it’s such a nice day I expected you to be outside in the sunshine with your friends.”

“What friends?”

“Come on Ash... I know you have friends. I’ve seen you with them. Judith and Ruby and that boy... at least I think it’s a boy... the one with hair like pink candyfloss.”

The boy grinned and it lit up a face which had otherwise been rather pensive. “Yeah, it’s a boy...Jay. They’re not here.”

“Not here? Where are they?”

“Gone on a field trip with the History department.”

“Oh. Let’s take a look then.”

Josh stood behind Ash, looking over his shoulder at the canvas he was working on. Unconcerned Ash continued to paint. The topic given by the examination board was ‘Spotlight on Love”. The other pupils entering the exam had painted couples dancing, in a gondola, at the beach. Ash’s was different. Darkly gothic it was set in a graveyard at night. In the foreground the wrought iron arch framed a path down among the gravestones to the distance where the land fell away over the edge of a cliff giving a glimpse of the sea in the distance, a full moon hanging over the water, setting fire to the horizon.

To one side of the gate was a simple wooden cross at which knelt an elderly man clutching a bunch of roses; over his shoulder an incandescent angelic form hovered, bathing him in glittering starlight. The painting was exquisite. Although darkly brooding the detail was exemplary and the presence of the angel gave the whole thing a very uplifting effect. It was nothing short of miraculous how Ash had managed to make the angelic light illuminate the whole of the painting in such a subtle, understated way.

“I think the addition of the pearlised acrylic was perfect for the effect you were after. And you’re right... it looks better without adding it to the moonlight... keeps the moon in the background and the angelic light qualitatively different.”

“I’m still not completely happy with the moon effects... it just doesn’t seem quite right.”

“You have looked at about a million photographs of the moon and your representation is almost as good as a photograph.”

“I know... it’s not that... it’s just...” He looked up over his shoulder and Josh had to steel himself not to take a step back. After the conversation he had just had the effect of the cornflower blue eyes was just too much. The expression was serious and intense... just as it always was.

“What?”

Ash turned back to the painting and Josh let out his breath in a soft hiss to which Ash, intent as he was on staring at his moon, was entirely oblivious.

“It’s not ‘right’. It's good... just not the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Then keep looking at photographs until you find one that is.”

“Maybe....” He sighed and, putting his hands behind his neck, stretched and arched his back, throwing back his head and closing his eyes. This time Josh did take a step back. Hell, maybe the Headmaster was right. He’d never noticed before just how attractive Ash was and it had never been so uncomfortable to be this close to him... or had it?

He didn’t have to look into Ash’s eyes to recall the incredibly vivid colour, the long thick lashes, the pale face framed with long straight dark hair. He didn’t need to let his eyes linger on the long legs, narrow hips and broad shoulders to realise how athletic and graceful he was and, especially he didn’t need to touch those long fingers, encircle the slender wrists to appreciate the skill and delicacy of his touch.

Since the talk he was afraid to look into Ash’s face. Had it always been so beautiful or was it just that the conversation had influenced his vision? There was nothing effeminate about Ash, nothing at all, but he had a delicate fey beauty that made him a natural target for bigotry and jealous spite. It had also brought a slight flutter to Josh’s heart on more than one occasion, something he had been happy enough to indulge at a distance, never thinking that it would be noted, by anyone.

It occurred to him, looking at Ash who was completely open and relaxed in his company, to wonder whether anyone had told him of the rumours, and if they had, whether he had discounted them or even registered them. It also occurred to him to wonder whether, if he had given them credit they had made him feel uncomfortable or... he certainly didn’t look uncomfortable... but suddenly Josh was and he turned away moving back towards his desk.

“Maybe you should give it a break. Stay away for a day or two. It’s full moon tomorrow night, maybe watching a real one rise will give you inspiration.”

“Maybe.” There was a strange tone in his voice and, when Josh turned he was watching him, his eyes narrowed.

“What’s on your mind?”

“My dad said you called him... about Art College.”

“Oh that. I hope I didn’t cause you any problem.”

“Nothing I can’t handle. It was never going to do any good but... thanks anyway.”

“Is there nothing...?”

For a moment Ash looked pensive, almost sad a strange wistful expression on his face, then he shrugged and shook his head, resigned.

“No, nothing. They don’t understand Art. They don’t think it’s a proper occupation. To them three years in Art School would be just a waste of time. Playing around. Holding on to childhood. Not growing up. Not facing responsibilities.”

“What responsibilities?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Ash...”

Ash shook his head, stopping him. Josh had a feeling that the conversation was paining him even though he would never let on that it was, never let him see, never let anyone see.

“I know. I know you’re doing your best but please stop now. You’re just going to get all worked up and it’s not going to do any good. I can’t go to Art College right now. Maybe one day...”

“Maybe... I had to try. You really are special you know.”

“Special?” There was that tone again, the eyes wide now, burning into him.

“Your talent.”

“Oh. That. Yes, maybe.”

“Get out of here. Go and get some sun.”

“I hate the sun.” Nevertheless he unfolded from the easel like a cat and strode cross the room, flicking his hair behind his shoulder. He moved like a panther and, although it was not the first time Josh had noticed it, it was the first time he had noticed himself noticing it.

“Then it’s no wonder you’re so pale. Go get a tan.”

“Not everyone is a sun worshipper. I prefer the moon.”

“Whatever. Go get a life.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m a sad nobody with no life?”

Despite the words his voice was light, teasing and Josh smiled. “Could be. So prove me wrong.”

For a long, long moment Ash stared at him and Josh couldn’t look away, even though after the first few seconds he knew he should have, he really, really should have. Finally Ash turned away and said so softly that Josh barely heard him. “I can’t.”

When he had gone Josh found that he was unaccountably shaken by the exchange. Maybe it was the conversation with the headmaster making him unusually sensitive, but there were tensions where before there had been none and he was reading a lot more into Ash’s long silences and intense looks than he ever had before. Had something changed or only his perception of what had been there all along? No wonder people were getting the wrong impression.

Almost unconsciously he was drawn back to the desk and to the pack of cigarettes.