Alfie Stewart, one of her problem Year 10s, had been lippy and aggressive throughout the entire double lesson that morning. Usually she had him on a very tight rein, not letting him get away with a single word out of line. Usually she was more than a match for his oafish comments and rudeness, and could put him in his place with well-practised ease.But today he seemed to sense she was struggling. Today he’d got right under her skin, drawling too-loud comments about her hair, her outfit, even the way her arse jiggled slightly as she was writing up a series of equations on the board. And today, she just didn’t have the wherewithal to stop him in his tracks with the curtness he deserved. She’d snapped at him for his remarks but her face had reddened at the class’s giggles – and from that moment on, she was undone. He had the upper hand and she, for once, was on the losing side. God, she felt like wringing his fat, unwashed neck. The bell for break-time could not peal fast enough and she let out her breath in a gust of relief when it finally did.At lunchtime she tried to make notes for the parents’ evening later that day in the staffroom, but her thoughts kept returning to Steve, and the empty house.
