This article is the second in the Alfred and Mrs Peel series.The first can be found here Alfred and Mrs Peel 1
It’s a couple of years since I was in Mrs Peel’s class and back then when I was just a little kid, I was enamoured by her, how embarrassing is that? Now look, she’s moved up the school and is our new class teacher, I wonder if she remembers me?
I can hear something, audible murmurs emitting from the rear of the room, our classroom is no longer silent and the murmurs can even be heard by those of us who are unfortunate enough to be seated at the front.
Most kids at the front aren’t brave enough to speak, not even in a whisper, we can be seen by our teacher Mrs Peel who has now moved closer to our little group.
“Who’s talking back there?” she inquires of the small cluster at the back. A hush falls upon the group, no one is admitting this classroom sin. “Would you like to share your conversation, perhaps we can all join in?” she asks.
I give a sigh and think to myself, “Well, if they’re not owning up to it, they’re hardly likely to invite us to join in!” I hear the collective intake of breath that has radiated around the room, I see the shocked expression on Mrs Peel’s face and in that horrifying moment I realise my thoughts, that seconds ago were safe inside my head, were no longer in the safe zone, I have uttered them out loud!
Mrs Peel edges closer. I cringe, unsure what to expect. When I’m brave enough to raise my eight year old eyes, I am surprised to see she is attempting to keep a smile from her face, “Ah I might have known it was you Alfred, how astute you are!”
I spend the remainder of the lesson trying to work out what the word astute means, let alone the one I used earlier ‘enamoured’, isn’t that something soldiers wear?
© nansfarm.net 2017
Footnote: Thank you to daughter Sophie for allowing me to use her classroom drawings.
In case of doubt, enamoured is the English spelling of enamored!