The Other Side of the Dale (10 page)

‘It's Lady Macbeth on the phone!' Julie called as she saw my scurrying figure disappear from the office one morning at the beginning of November.

‘Who?' I asked puzzled, coming back into the room.

‘Mrs Savage and it's urgent – but then again, everything's urgent to her.'

I snatched up the telephone. ‘Hello, Gervase Phinn here.'

‘Good morning, Mr Phinn,' said a calm, unhurried voice. ‘Brenda Savage here, Dr Gore's personal assistant. The Chief Education Officer would like a word with you.'

The soft clear tones of the Chief Education Officer came down the line a few seconds later. ‘I've been trying to have a word with you, Gervase, for the past few days but without success. I wonder if you could call over and see me tomorrow at about five o'clock?'

‘Yes, of course, Dr Gore,' I replied. ‘There isn't a problem, is there?'

‘No, no, not a problem as such, but something I need to discuss with you personally. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow then.' The telephone clicked and he was gone.

‘Dr Gore wants to see me,' I said to Julie.

‘An audience with his eminence. It must be important.'

‘He needs to discuss something with me personally, he said. What do you think that means? It sounds a bit ominous, don't you think?'

As with an agitated teacher or anxious parent, Julie calmed
me down, said it would be nothing serious, and added, ‘He probably just wants to hear how you are getting on. Don't worry.'

‘Yes, of course,' I said, reassuring myself that that was it, but at the back of my mind there was a small nagging worry.

‘Come along in, Gervase,' said Dr Gore when I popped my head around his office door the following afternoon. I entered the large, dark-panelled room of the Chief Education Officer. Great glass-fronted bookcases full of leather-bound tomes lined one wall and framed pictures and prints drawn and painted by the county's children and students were displayed on the other. Opposite the bookcases a huge window gave an uninterrupted view over Fettlesham, busy and bustling. In the far distance were the moors and misty tops.

‘Sit down, will you, Gervase,' said Dr Gore. He rustled a few papers on his desk before continuing. ‘Thank you for coming to see me. Would you like a cup of tea?'

‘No thank you, Dr Gore.'

‘And are you still enjoying the job?'

‘Very much thank you, Dr Gore.' I sounded like a naughty schoolboy in front of the headmaster.

‘You've been with us nearly half a term now, haven't you?'

‘Yes, that's right,' I replied, smiling inanely and wishing he would get to the point. ‘Well, more than half a term now.'

‘Good, good. I've been receiving some admirable reports about you. The headteachers seem very impressed and Harold Yeats tells me you are doing extremely well.'

I couldn't halt a rather audible sigh of relief before I replied, ‘That's very good to hear.'

‘Have you everything you need?'

‘Yes thank you, Dr Gore, I have everything I need.' But what was it on his mind? I had not long to wait.

‘Good, good. Well now, Gervase, the principal reason for asking to see you was about this reading survey.'

‘Reading survey?' I repeated.

‘The County Education Committee naturally takes a very keen and active interest in all matters educational and members have received details of the recent Government White Paper on literacy and reading standards – that children cannot read as well as they could and that teachers are going for all these trendy methods of teaching reading. Off the top of your head, would you say that is the case? Is reading being taught effectively? Can children read as well as they could in the past?'

‘As far as the county is concerned, Dr Gore,' I stated, ‘I think it's a little early for me to comment on the standard of reading overall, but in the few schools I have visited since I started, the standard appears to be very high. Apart from a few cases, the children I have heard read do so with assurance and fluency and the teachers seem to spend a good deal of time teaching reading.'

‘Mmm.' Dr Gore steepled his fingers in front of him in the same manner as he had done at my interview. ‘Well, be that as it may, and it's very gratifying to hear you say these things, I have agreed with the elected members that we – and I am afraid that really means you – will present a short report to the Education Committee early in the spring. Now, I know that's a pretty short timescale but does it present a problem for you, would you say?'

‘I shouldn't think so. It depends really on the number of schools in the sample, but –'

‘I do, of course, appreciate that you have hardly got your feet under the table but the thing is, Gervase, you are the best
person, as our inspector for English, to take responsibility for this initiative, and to write and present the report. You will need to devise a questionnaire for the selected schools about the various methods used to teach reading, a set of survey questions about children's reading interests, select an appropriate standardized reading test for schools to administer to the sample of pupils, and you will need to hear a representative group. Committee has decided to limit it to six- and seven-year-olds. The collation of the questionnaire and the survey questions, together with the analysis of the reading test results can be done for you. Now, do you think you can manage it?'

‘Yes,' I replied. ‘I think so.'

‘It should provide some very useful information and hopefully reassure our members, governors, parents and teachers that what we are doing in the county with regard to reading is on the right lines.'

‘I will start planning right away, Dr Gore,' I said.

‘Well, that's settled then. Can you aim to give me a detailed outline of the programme, say, by a week on Monday, together with some idea of which schools you are using in the sample – Harold Yeats will advise you in this – and some notion of costings and timings and so forth, then we can make a start before Christmas. Mrs Savage will look after the admin. so you will obviously need to liaise closely with her. Have you met Mrs Savage, by the way?'

‘No, not yet,' I replied.

Dr Gore became thoughtful, steepled his fingers again and nodded sagely. The room had become unexpectedly quiet.

‘Good, good,' Dr Gore said suddenly. ‘Well, is that everything you need to know?'

‘Yes, it seems very clear, Dr Gore. I'll get right onto it.'

‘That's settled, then. Thank you for coming to see me, Gervase. I very much look forward to seeing your proposals and to reading your report.'

Over the next few weeks, in between inspecting, advising, directing courses, and joining interview panels, I set about planning the reading survey. With Harold's help, I selected a small random sample of schools in different parts of the county, chose a simple, easily administered test, devised a list of key words for the children to read and designed a questionnaire and a survey about reading interests and patterns. My suggestions were accepted fully by Dr Gore who instructed me to go ahead. The next part of the process was potentially tricky. I needed to see Mrs Savage to get her to reproduce the material and send it out to the schools.

‘Not something I would relish, liaising with Mrs Savage,' said Julie screwing up her face as if waiting for an unpleasant smell to evaporate.

I approached the door on which were large black letters spelling out Mrs B. F. SAVAGE, Personal Assistant to the Chief Education Officer. I wondered what this menacing woman would look like. Julie had painted a picture of a despot with a heart of iron. I knocked tentatively and entered. A young woman looked up from the desk where she was working and smiled.

‘May I help you?'

‘Yes, I hope so. I'm looking for Mrs Savage.'

‘I'm afraid Mrs Savage is at lunch. Can I be of any help?'

I introduced myself, explained about the survey and handed the draft copy of the questionnaire to her.

‘And if there are any problems, please ask Mrs Savage to contact me.'

‘If there are any problems,' chuckled the secretary, ‘Mrs Savage will contact you. Of that you can be certain.'

The following day a memorandum arrived on my desk. It stated briefly that Mrs Savage had received the questionnaire which she had reproduced, with ‘various necessary amendments', and that she had arranged for a copy to be despatched to each school requesting that it be returned completed to her for analysis of the results. I had apparently survived unscathed this time.

The first school I visited as part of the survey was at Mertonbeck. It was a small village primary with high mullioned windows and a shiny, grey slate roof. From the classroom window a great rolling expanse stretched to the far-away moors. The Headteacher, a bright-eyed, bubbly and immensely enthusiastic teacher called Jean, introduced me to the children, ensconcing me on a comfortable chair in the corner of the classroom.

‘I'll send the children to you, Mr Phinn, one at a time,' she said. ‘They really love to read.'

A small, healthy-looking little girl with long golden plaits, wide, unblinking eyes and a face as speckled as a thrush's egg, was the first to join me.

‘Hello,' she said brightly. ‘I'm Amy. Miss said you wanted to see me.'

‘Would you like to read to me, Amy?' I asked pleasantly.

‘Why?' came the blunt reply.

‘Well, I would like you to.'

‘Yes, but what for?'

‘Well, because I would. That's why I am here this morning – to hear the children read.'

‘Is it your hobby?' I was asked.

‘No,' I replied. ‘It's my job.'

‘Oh,' sighed the infant. ‘It's a funny sort of job!'

‘Well, I like it,' I smiled.

‘It must be nice,' she mused, ‘listening to people read all day.'

‘It is,' I agreed.

‘And do you get paid for it?'

I finally prevailed upon her to read and she did so in a superbly clear and expressive manner. ‘All right?' she asked with the satisfied and confident expression of one who knows she is something of an expert.

‘Splendid,' I replied. ‘Thank you. You're a lovely reader, Amy.'

‘I know,' she said. ‘And I'm pretty good at writing as well.'

‘Are you?'

‘Do you like writing, Mr Phinn?'

‘Well, well, Amy, you've remembered this funny name of mine. I am very impressed.'

‘No, not really,' she replied. ‘You have it written on your folder.' She continued in her confident little voice. ‘It's a funny spelling, isn't it?'

‘Well, in answer to your question about writing, Amy, yes, I do like writing.'

‘Do you write stories?'

‘Yes.'

‘And poems as well?'

‘Yes.'

‘Do you get the rhymes?'

‘Sometimes.'

‘And the rhythms?'

‘Oh, I always get the rhythms.'

‘Do you draw pictures around your poems?'

‘No.'

‘I do. I think it makes them look prettier on the page. Do you write poems about animals?'

‘Yes I do, Amy, but –'

‘And people?'

‘Amy,' I firmly said, chuckling. ‘It's me who usually asks the questions, you know.'

She gave me the sweetest of smiles before replying. ‘I'm interested – that's all.'

The next child, a small boy with a crown of close-cropped black hair and large pale eyes between almost colourless lashes, was an excellent reader too. He read from his book with grim determination in a loud and confident voice.

‘You're a very good reader,' I commented when he snapped the book shut.

‘Aye,' he replied nodding sagely.

‘Do you like reading?'

‘I do.'

‘And I see from your reading card you've read a lot of books this year.'

‘I have.'

‘Do you read at home?'

‘Sometimes.'

It was like extracting blood from a stone but I persevered. ‘And what do you like reading about?' I asked cheerfully.

‘Animals mostly.'

‘Farm animals? Wild animals?'

‘All animals.'

‘And do you have any animals at home?'

‘A few.'

‘What sort?' I asked.

‘Mostly black and white on green.'

‘Pardon?'

‘Cows,' he said quietly. ‘I live on a farm.' Then a slight smile came to his lips and his expression took on that of the expert in the presence of an ignoramus – a sort of patient, sympathetic, tolerant look.

‘Do you know owt about cows then?' he asked.

‘No,' I said feebly. I should have left it there but I persisted. ‘Would you like to tell me about the cows on your farm?'

‘There's not that much to tell really, cows is cows.'

‘You're not a very talkative little boy, are you?' I said peering into the pale eyes.