The School of English Murder by Ruth Dudley Edwards Read Free Book Online

Pedro.’
    ‘Hello, Pedro,’ cried Amiss exultantly, and the class chanted it along with him. He looked at his watch, saw it was midday, pointed at the door and said, ‘Goodbye, Pedro’. Pedro, by now delighting in his role as an auxiliary teacher, stopped by his desk to pick up his belongings, strode to the door, turned and said, ‘Goodbye, Bob.’
    ‘Goodbye, Pedro,’ called Amiss and almost the whole of the class chimed in correctly with him.
    As he was to observe much later, this was to be the zenith of his career as a teacher of English as a Foreign Language.
    By nine, the end of his third shift. Amiss felt more tired than ever before in his life. Pausing only to say ‘See you tomorrow’ to Ned, he fled home to bed, from where he tried fruitlessly to phone Pooley. He then swallowed a large whisky, unplugged his phone and fell asleep immediately. When his alarm went at eight he had the satisfaction of waking up Pooley. ‘Odd,’ he said, when Pooley’s grunts had diminished, ‘I had you pegged as an early riser.’
    ‘Not when I get to bed at three.’
    ‘What kept you up? Debauchery?’
    ‘Villainy.’
    ‘Well, that’s your job, isn’t it? And right now I’d swap it for mine.’
    ‘Fill me in.’
    ‘I can’t really now, except to say that I’m on a week’s trial which involves me working so hard that I won’t have any time to do any sleuthing. If I’m offered a job on Friday, we can make plans at the weekend. I don’t even know how many colleagues I’ve got. Today I was either stuck in the bloody prefabs or was down the pub making apologetic phone calls to my various employers. The Fox and Goose man is distraught. He says.he doesn’t know where he’ll find another Brit who can sing Northern folk-songs.’
    ‘I didn’t know you could.’
    ‘Well, I know two. Now, Rich…’ He gave Pooley a pen-picture.
    ‘He sounds very peculiar.’
    ‘He is. Reminded me of a satyr.’
    ‘Are they a pair of old queens?’
    ‘I really don’t know. Superficially it seems so, but Rich doesn’t easily fit any mould.’
    ‘Well, good luck. You’ve done amazingly well to have got so far. Maybe you’ll learn to enjoy it.’
    ‘Ellis, you conned me into this. At least have the grace to admit it’s a fucking awful job.’
    ‘I do. I do. And I do sincerely hope you at least find an agreeable colleague in the next day or two.’
    ‘As soon as I do that, you’ll probably arrest him for murder,’ said Amiss. ‘What are you going to feed me with on Saturday night? It’d better be good. And make it British. I won’t be feeling like anything foreign.’
    ‘Does anyone test these people before their money is taken?’
    ‘Course not. What’s the point? Half of them’ll drop out anyway and the ones that stay’ll learn something—probably. Who cares? It’s a growth market.’ Amiss reminded himself sharply that he was supposed to be winning friends in this establishment, not alienating members of staff by asking awkward questions. He turned on what he fondly hoped to be his most winning smile and said, ‘Enough boring shop. Tell me about you, Jenn. When I’ve got you another drink.’
    It didn’t take long for Jenn to confirm herself as the common little bitch Amiss had already spotted her for. It was a relief to him when he realised she was also stupid. After five days of grinding work he would have been incapable of trying to pump someone who might be clever enough to spot what he was at. After he had listened for the best part of half an hour to boastful accounts of how great she’d been as a travel agent, courier, croupier and God knows what else, he interrupted. ‘Hey, Jenn. This is great. I’m really enjoying myself. Why don’t you let me buy you a meal. Let’s celebrate my becoming your colleague.’
    ‘No funny business now,’ she said delicately.
    ‘Wouldn’t dare, Jenn,’ he said, with his best attempt at a rueful snigger, ‘I’d say you’re well able to look after yourself.