Do as I say not as I do

 

She waited outside the Headmasters office,

fidgeting on hard plastic, 

picking at bitten skin on frayed fingers

hiding scuffed toes behind a dog eaten bag.

 

That disapproving woman 

was at the desk again -

Mrs 'what's her face''...

sitting prim, glasses perched 

on pointed nose,

old fashioned, bleached, perm 

not suiting her pinched red face.

The woman glared,

How dare she, she thought

wrinkling her blotched brow,

desperately wanting to tell her to get lost,

What right did she have to judge her?

thinking that she was so above her.

 

Stupid cow, to hell with her.

 

"He'll see you now" the wasp faced woman said,

in the clipped tones of those that meant 

"I'm above you".

 

She was used to abuse -

words didn't wound,

didn't understand them all anyway.

So she allowed the tirade of failure 

to wash over her 

like an icy shower she knew would dry off.

"I'll talk to him" she said in the end,

ignoring the look,

the pat on her back, she flinched,

"bugger off" she thought, you're not our friend.

 

Outside the gates, she stood

inadequate coat 

wrapping bony shoulders 

from the worst of the cold,

denim skirt baring white stick legs lost in grubby, knock off Ugg boots.

She lit a fag, 

wishing she'd brought her flask -

a little nip right now would have cheered her up.

 

When at last he came out,

dragging his grubby backpack,

her arms folded, face a ferocious frown.

She was darned if he would end like her,

ignorant failure, undereducated , 

out of work bum.

Useless, single mum.

 

She clipped him hard, 

ash falling onto his cropped blond head.

"Smoking!" She said,

"round the bloody bike sheds"

"and fighting! Whacking that dippy little kid!" 

 

"He started it!" He cried, turning red, "He did!"

 

She smacked him again for good measure,

she took no pleasure 

but ignored the tears running down his cheeks, mingling with the icy sleet.

 

She was determined. 

No kid of hers 

was going to end up expelled, 

a drunk,

knocking up some girl,

getting banged up again and again,

like her father - like his,

he wasn't going to end up the same. 

and if he did...

she wasn't going to be to blame.