A New Style of Education

by Karen Page

Part 67

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Part 67

Saturday 1st April 2006

"A quick word before breakfast," said Mr Hobson to the full dining room. It was very unusual for him to make any announcements at the weekend. "As you are aware, today is the first day we will be operating the shuttle service to local shopping areas. Today's destination is Luton. Can I have a show of hands who is planning to use this service."

That was a silly question as the room was full of raised hands.

"Perhaps that was a bad question. Hands down. Now, those who don't plan to go, raise their hands."

There wasn't a single hand in the air.

"When Ofsted made their recommendation Ms Toms investigated a method for self-service checkouts of travel PDAs for transferring your profile. One wasn't available. However, a software update was found where the profile doesn't need to be synced. Therefore, each person can have a travel PDA stored in their bedroom ready for trips outside the school. No more waiting on David or Ms Toms to do the transfers. These will be handed out by Ms Toms after breakfast."

This was met by warm applause.

"There is a hope that with some tech advancements being discussed, that either next year or the year after, you will have a device that will work both inside and outside the school.

"Since you all want to have the day out, there will be a coach leaving at 9am. With no teachers on it, a single coach will fit all pupils. A minibus request service will leave once an hour if you desire to leave later. You will be dropped off and collected at the bus stop outside the Galaxy Centre. For those that don't know Luton, the main shopping mall is a two-minute walk. Collections will be on a request basis, or if a minibus is going into Luton. Final collection will be at 4pm unless a good excuse for staying later is lodged with me.

"Anybody who abuses the system will forfeit this privilege for two weeks and other punishments might be levied for serious infractions. You are a pupil at Hayfield; I expect you to represent the school with your common sense and high standards of behaviour."

After we finished breakfast and streamed out of the dining room, Ms Toms was waiting with five boxes of PDA. Each PDA was in a bag with our names on it, setup based on our old travel version.

"So," said Emma sliding up to me as I pocketed my new travel PDA. "Are you going to get changed and go as Jayne?"

I smiled to myself. I thought this might have come up during breakfast, but for some reason it hadn't. I tried to be tactful. "Not this time. I've just got back from a month of being Jayne."

"That's great," interrupted Paula, putting her arm around Emma and steering her away. "We'll see you on the coach."

"What was that about?" asked Helen, having at last got her travel PDA.

"I think Emma still sees me as being in denial."

"Ah, she thought you should go to Luton as Jayne?"

I nodded and resisted sighing.

Helen slipped her hand into mine and said, "I'm happy whatever way you want to be. It will be nice to do some things with all ten of us, but I'd like to spend some time where it's just you and me."

I smiled at that, my heart glowing at her words.

April in the UK is a time of showers. The cold of winter makes way for a time when the weather doesn't know what to do. Some days it is cold, and others slightly less cold. Therefore, we were all wearing raincoats as we climbed onto the coach. There was no jostling for position, like when I went on the flight to Scotland. We all knew where we would sit.

I'd flown from Luton airport, so since I didn't expect the trip to the town centre to be much different, I let Helen have the window seat.

"Everybody, remember where we parked," said Graham, the driver who'd driven the coach this morning.

Martha groaned. "I thought I'd got away from Star Trek quotes when Wesley went back to America."

We all laughed and piled out of the coach. I paused and looked around in amazement. That didn't last long as I was gently steered away so not to block others leaving the coach. Luton centre was nothing like Milton Keynes, or when we went to London. It had an older look and, in some respects, more tired. But the bustle in the square was what was catching my attention. It was a stream of people moving and jostling. Fascinating.

"Let's go into the Mall," suggested Paula.

It didn't take us long to find that this wasn't the same scale or quality as Milton Keynes shopping area. There were signs up about some refurbishment to the entrance we'd just come through and they were going to change the square.

We strolled slowly through the central aisle of the mall and found there wasn't much there. The biggest interest was the small indoor market at the far side, but that we'd examined in little time. The shopping centre was a lot smaller than Milton Keynes and if the shop fronts designated the size, they were also a lot smaller than the ones in Milton Keynes.

"Why don't we grab a milkshake," Helen suggested as we neared a little eatery. It wasn't closed off like a lot of cafes, and a quickly agreed as did the others. It was situated by what looked to be the lifts from the carpark I knew was above us. From one side, there was a constant stream of people beginning or ending their shopping journey and on the other side, a view of the main thoroughfare where people were dashing about their day.

Over our drinks, there was a discussion about what we were going to do. We'd decided that a group of ten was too big. There was a huge variation on what we wanted to do, and we didn't really want to draw too much attention by going around as a big gang.

"Do you want another drink?" Helen asked, as the rest of our year group disappeared.

"Sure," I agreed. "Though can I have the banana milkshake this time?"

As Helen went to the counter, I watched as people milled around. It was all so different. Where I'd grown up was a large village, rather than a town. We had a few shops, and for anything more we went to the town a few miles away, which didn't even have the range Luton had. With no money, it wasn't something I did very often.

In the village where my parents lived, the people were mostly white. Here there were people of many races and how they acted seemed to vary. We'd only just come back from Iran, where I'd seen some interaction and how society acted, but what I was seeing here wasn't anything like I'd seen in Iran. Yes, there were women wearing hijabs, but the family dynamic appeared different. Perhaps different Muslim countries had different behaviours. Thinking back, the way we behave in the UK is similar, but not the same as when we were in France.

"What do you see?" enquired Helen, as she put the milkshakes on the table in front of us.

"What do you mean?" I didn't take my eyes off the flow of people.

"While the others were around, you weren't keeping up with the conversation. You kept glancing at the crowds. I just wondered what you saw. It's really good how you see things that others don't. I just wondered if you could share with me."

I'm sure that my heart must have skipped a few beats. Helen wasn't upset, but was interested in what I was doing, and wanted to share. She wanted to be part of my world.

But how do I explain it? It was only watching people, so I'd know when I was in danger of getting beaten up, did I learn to understand what I saw. It was like a hidden language that we all talked but never heard. And then there was the bits how interaction changed things. A person could be really nice, but when mixed with friends could suddenly turn and attack.

"If you look at that man in the hoodie by the perfume shop."

"The one who just checked his watch?"

"Yes, that's him. Well, he turned…" I trailed off as I saw somebody that I recognised coming from the corridor that led from the carpark.

"What?" enquired Helen.

I nudged her and pointed to the person I'd seen. I heard Helen gasp and knew she recognised him too. Louis Jumelet.

If a teacher was meeting in person, that would be why there wasn't an electronic trace. But some of the things, like the phone call to my mother can't have been a personal meeting. Very strange.

I got up to follow, and Helen urgently whispered, "Be careful, there are security cameras everywhere. We can't be seen to be following him."

"Let's follow behind and see where he goes. We can carry on past."

"That's a plan," she agreed, leaving her drink behind. "Didn't Mr Taylor say he was wanted? I wonder if he is wanted in the UK, or if there is a European arrest warrant out for him."

"Ring Mr Taylor as we go along. If he is wanted, perhaps he knows a way to tip the police off without it coming back on the school. Also, be careful; he knows your face."

Helen turned slightly pale, but she didn't leave my side. Louis didn't appear to be on the lookout for anybody following. He was sauntering down the mall like it was a nice Saturday trip out. Helen was soon off the phone.

"Two things. One, yes, he is wanted, and two, Mr Taylor has a friend on the force who he knows has history with Monsier Jumelet. I've no idea how long they will take for the police to turn up though."

The quarry turned into a coffee shop, and we continued down the mall. We looked in as we went past, but all we saw was him stood at the counter. He was alone. Not soon after, we saw Andy and Stacy in a phone shop, which I pointed out to Helen. We quickly went in.

"Hi," I murmured, saddling up to them. Helen was looking out of the shop window. "Doesn't the school give you a device?"

"We leave soon," said Andy, pointing out the obvious. "We were just seeing what's available."

Stacy turned around and beamed a smile at me. That disappeared when she saw Helen and I glancing out of the window. "What's going on?"

"Do you remember the name Louis Jumelet?"

"The chap that kidnapped you in Iran?" she confirmed. "He's here?"

Helen nodded and her phone rang. Hearing one side didn't make any sense, apart from her giving Louis's location.

When she finished the call, we all looked at her expectantly. "The main police station is only up the road. Mr Taylor's contact was very happy to get the tip and multiple teams are on the way.

"So, which phone do you think is better?" Andy asked, as we kept a discrete look. We didn't want to seem that we weren't shopping.

"I've heard good things about the Nokia," I said looking at the ones Andy was pointing out. "The Blackberry one is too work orientated. At uni you won't be using the phone like you do at school."

"All good points," mused Stacy. "But the Blackberry has a nicer feel."

"Oh no," uttered a horrified Helen.

We all looked out to see Anna and Jill going into the coffee shop. A few moments later Louis Jumelet rushed out of the door.

"Police, Stop! Louis Jumelet … police stop!" I heard yelled and saw two police officers.

Louis didn't stop but ran. The four of us quickly left the shop to see the action. We weren't alone. Hearing a kerfuffle was always a beacon for people to watch what was happening. This was no exception, and nicely hid our specific interest. Running in a busy shopping mall isn't the easiest thing to do. As soon as you get any speed, you are running into somebody. And that is exactly what happened. He crashed into a young woman and landed on the floor.

As Louis tried to get up, so did the young woman he'd crashed into, catching him on his chin. He went down again. There had been police coming from both ends of the mall, and they quickly arrived on the scene and bound him in handcuffs.

Looking around, I saw Anna and Jill head back inside the coffee shop. They'd seen the arrest.

"Do you want a coffee?" I suggested to them all, thinking it was a good excuse to have a chat with Anna and Jill.

"Under normal circumstances, I'd be all for it, but I think Anna gets nervous around us. I think they'd open up more if it was just the two of you."

I didn't like it, but I understood. Stacy and Andy were leaving in a few months, and it was nice spending some time with them. "See you later."

As we walked in, I said, "You talk to them; I'll get the drinks. Give me a shout if they want a fresh drink."

The counter was quiet, so I got served straightaway.

"What'll it be, sir?"

I smiled. I'd got called sir. This must have been a first. "A coffee and a hot chocolate."

"What type of coffee? Cappuccino, Latte, Flat White, Americano or Mocha?"

"Huh?"

He took pity on me. "I take it this is your first time having a nice coffee?"

I nodded sheepishly.

"It's quiet, so here is a cheat sheet." He produced a cardboard menu, that included diagrams of different coffees and what was in them.

"Thanks," I murmured, quickly scanning it. "So, it's mostly the same amount of coffee, but just different ways the milk is done?"

"Mostly. You can have more than one shot of coffee if you want, but since this is new, I wouldn't recommend it. Why don't you have a latte. It has a slightly milkier taste than a cappuccino. That has more froth, so even though it has the same coffee, it tastes stronger."

I handed back the menu. "So, one latte and one hot chocolate."

"You can add a flavoured syrup to the coffee, such as caramel or vanilla. It's optional."

"No, just a straight latte. It will give me a good starting position."

"That it will. Oh, do you want cream and sprinkles on the hot chocolate?"

"Please."

I paid and waited at the side for the drinks to be made. This was all new and wasn't something I learnt at school. Education in life. This was something that had been mentioned to me a few times, but I'd not really understood. When we'd gone to Paris, I'd learnt how to behave in a nice restaurant. Today, I'd learnt there was more to coffee than just coffee. What else did I need to learn?

I eventually got the two drinks and joined the other three. They broke off their chat as I slid into the chair next to Helen.

"Before you ask, we're good," said Jill. Anna nodded in agreement.

"It was a bit of a shock seeing him again, but when we saw him caught by the police, we knew we were safe. Though we were shocked by who he was with."

"Who?"

"Mrs Poole."

"Our geography teacher?"

"I phoned it in," Helen mentioned. "She must have slipped away while we were watching the arrest."

Mrs Poole?! My mind boggled. She wasn't on my list of suspects. She wasn't on the trip to France, so how did she know to contact Jessica's parents to let them know we were in the diner? Was there a second person?

* * *

"So, what's up?" Helen asked when we got back to the school. We'd got back just after a lunchtime tenpin bowling at the Galaxy centre. It had been the whole year playing and was probably the highlight of the day.

"Coffee." I responded. At Helen's wondering look, I continued. "I need to understand."

"Understand what?"

I had to admit, Helen was very patient with me. At this moment I'm not sure my thoughts made sense to her. I'm not sure they made sense to me. Yet I had this urge. An idea had crept into my mind towards the end of the tenpin bowling, and it had been lurking there ever since. Andy and coffee. Yet I don't think I'd ever had a coffee with Andy.

Before joining Hayfield I'd never had a coffee. I knew it was a drink, and one my parents drank, but it was nothing I'd tried before Hayfield. Since starting here, I'd only had a coffee a few times and had only started to get used to the taste. Yet today's trip to Luton had caused strange thoughts to dance in my mind.

"Can we go to the kitchen? Perhaps they can help."

"For them to make you a coffee?"

"Perhaps, but I don't think so. I just need to understand more."

"Lead on," she smiled putting her arm through mine. "I hope they can help."

The kitchen didn't have the same activity level as the time that Helen and I helped make the pudding. I spied Justin wiping down one of the preparation areas. He spotted us as we approached.

"Hello," he said, stopping what he was doing. "What can I do for you?"

"Sorry if we are disturbing you, but would you, or someone else in the kitchen, have a few moments to answer some questions I have on coffee?"

"Now, that's a request I've never heard before. Two moments."

He went across and had a word with Donna. I remembered her when she assisted Andy and Stacy with their dessert. It wasn't long before he was with us.

"So, what do you want to know about coffee. The way you phrased it wasn't that you wanted a coffee."

"We can come back later if we're causing issues for tonight's meals."

"Most of the prep work is done, and Donna has the rest all under control. She is the sous-chef, so is perfectly capable without me berating her."

I filed that away for later thought. It sounded like there was some sort of hierarchy with job titles. Sous was French for under. I presume she was the second in charge under Justin. I wonder what the other titles were for the other cooks beavering away in the background.

"When we were in town earlier, I went to Costa. The way they made the coffee was a lot different to how we have it here. In the dining room we have an urn of coffee, and we can add cold milk and sugar. There, they seemed to cook the milk. It had a different taste, and I thought you might be able to explain."

"In a kitchen, it is more about the food rather than the drinks. If you asked someone in a restaurant they might be offended and refer you to the bar. Here we do both, so you've come to the right place. Let me grab a few things."

I glanced at Helen. "Why do I get the feeling this is going to be a bigger subject than I thought."

Helen shrugged. "If it helps you, great. If not, we will understand a lot more than when we came in."

Justin soon reappeared with a box. The first thing he did was pull out four apples. What did apples have to do with coffee?

Justin proceeded to cut two samples off each apple and offered them to us to taste. We did as he directed.

"They taste different. The second one was quite a lot stronger than the others and tasted almost bitter."

"I like the first one best," said Helen. "It seemed to have more flavour. A nicer taste."

"That is a Gala. Come back in September, and I will have a much larger range for you to try. These are all imported. Sorry, I'm going off track a bit. All four of these are apples, but they are different varieties. They have different tastes and different strengths. It is the same with coffee. There are different varieties of coffee beans from different parts of the world. They have different flavours."

"Okay," Helen and I uttered.

"The coffee beans are roasted. This brings out the flavour and taste. There are different roasting types from light to dark and several steps in-between. The darker the roast, the less difference there is between beans; you're tasting more of the roasting process.

Justin removed a tin from the box and opened the lid. I got the whiff of coffee. He sprinkled a bit on a plate.

"The roasted coffee is then ground up. It is this ground coffee that is used to make your drink. Now this is where things differ between the coffee you have at school and what you experienced today. Here we brew the coffee. The coffee shop uses espresso. The output is a cup of coffee, but the method to create it is slightly different and the result tastes different. One isn't better than the other. You can get a cup of really nice coffee either way."

"Here we pass hot water through a basket of ground coffee into the urn. The urn holds enough for about thirty cups of coffee. That's why we have three urns. Some people don't function well without coffee in the morning, and I'm not talking about pupils!"

Donna came up carrying a tray with three small glasses full of dark coffee.

"Perfect timing!" exclaimed Justin. "Thank you."

Donna went back to the heart of the kitchen and Justin continued. "This is an espresso. Try it with no milk or sugar. It might be a bit strong, but it'll give you some idea of the base coffee."

I tasted, expecting it to be bitter, but it had quite a gentle smooth taste.

"It is more lightly roasted, so a smoother taste. We have an espresso machine here, but it's rarely used for making drinks. We'd be there all day. No, we use it when recipes need coffee."

"In the coffee shop there were different coffees. Latte, cappuccino etc."

"There are two main ingredients. Espresso and milk. We've covered the espresso. Hot air is pushed into the milk causing it to heat. If the hot air is of high enough pressure the milk bubbles and creates a froth. All the drinks they make are just variations on the amount of steamed milk vs froth, and where the items are in the cup. A latte is layered as espresso, mostly steamed milk and a small amount of froth at the top. Where a cappuccino has slightly less steamed milk and more froth. The biggest difference is a latte macchiato which has steamed milk at the bottom, then the espresso and finally the froth."

"And do they taste different?"

"If done correctly, yes."

"Okay, so if I get this right. The taste of the coffee is dependent on the type of bean, how it is roasted and then how the drink is mixed?"

"That about sums it up," Justin agreed. "But at the end of the day it is still coffee. Some days you might want it plain, dark and mysterious. Other days you might want a latte. There is a coffee for most moods."

"But it is still coffee." A smile came over my face. "Thank you. You've been really helpful."

"I'm glad to help. Now run along and enjoy the rest of the day."

As we walked back into the hall, Helen remarked. "It's like a lightbulb suddenly lit above your head."

"I feel like things make sense now. It doesn't matter if the coffee is brewed like we have at school, or an espresso like I had at the shops. It is still coffee."

"But what is making you all excited?"

I stopped and Helen quickly stopped too. I looked at her with earnest. "I am coffee."

Helen looked puzzled. She wasn't getting it. I explained the link.

"Ahh," Helen uttered, realisation breaking out like the sun appearing from behind a dark cloud. "So where to next? Rachel?"

"No, I need to get these thoughts in order first. I'll probably talk to her about this next week. If you don't mind, can we go to our bedroom. I need to see if I can work things out a bit more."

"You're actually agreeing to see Rachel?" queried Helen sounding incredulous.

"I think that when I've understood myself enough, it would put her mind at rest."

Monday 3rd April 2006

"You've been smirking since we've got up," I complained. We'd had our run, showered and were on the way to the year leader meeting with Mr Hobson. "What's going on?" I looked down at my shirt making sure I'd put the buttons in the right holes.

"I'm just happy, that's all."

"Mmm," was my only answer. I knew I wasn't getting the whole story, but deep down was happy that Helen was happy.

"Hi," I said as we walked in. Helen closed the door as we were the last.

I got looks of surprise from some in the room. Stacy just giggled.

"What?" I complained, checking that my trouser zip was fastened. All was good, so it wasn't that.

"Your voice has broken," Helen informed me.

I shrugged and sat down. It was something I knew was happening based on the wobble the other day.

"Most of you have probably heard rumours about an event that occurred on Saturday during the trip to Luton. To summarise, one of the people who kidnapped four of our students in Iran was spotted and the police were informed since there was a warrant for his arrest. He tried to run in a busy shopping mall and bumped into a shopper. The police caught up with him, and he was arrested."

There wasn't a sound from any of the six students in the room. This wasn't news for any of us.

"He was meeting a contact from Hayfield. The police went to her house to arrest her but found her dead. Mrs Poole had committed suicide."

"The geography teacher?" Susan queried, quite shocked.

"One in the same. Security is investigating how this occurred and will vet all the teachers and assistants again. I'd like you to inform your year groups. I won't be announcing this at breakfast. Do any of you have any questions?"

None of us did.

"I'll leave you to update your years. Oh, can Stacy, Helen and David remain for a moment."

Soon it was just the three of us, looking at Mr Hobson, wondering why we'd been asked to stay longer.

"Thank you for the way you handled this situation. I'm very proud at how sensible you all were."

The three of us gave a collective shrug. We didn't know what to say to that.

"I personally spoke with Mr Poole. He had no idea what his wife had done. Now you probably were wondering about the leak that happened in France. It seems they went to Paris while we were there. He thought she had been doing a set of parents a favour by letting them know where their children were. I let him keep that memory. He has lost enough without thinking any worse of his now dead wife."

"Thank you for telling us that," said Helen. "We were concerned that because she wasn't connected to the French trip that there might have been somebody else involved."

As we turned toward the year rooms, I said, "It looks like I might need female voice lessons, after all."

"You'll be told to wait a few weeks," informed Stacy. "Let your voice settle first. That way you don't hurt it."

"Thanks." I smiled and we split to go to our separate ways. "Helen, can you break the news. I don't want my changed voice to distract with the news we need to give. Also, Lewis might get frantic if we are late for breakfast."

"No problem," she said giving my hand a squeeze. "I love you, David."

The news didn't take long to impart, and we were all in the dining room slightly earlier than normal. It wasn't every day that there was a new member of the support staff, and we all knew she would be greeted. That took time and we knew there were certain people, across all years, who really liked their meals. I noticed a new lady sat with Rachel at the year three table. We would normally have had Rachel, but instead we had Mr Hobson. This was the second meal in a row that he'd eaten at our table. I looked again and noticed it was the woman that Louis Jumelet had crashed into, and who had knocked him down again when he tried to get up. She shot up in my esteem.

When everybody was seated, I noticed Stacy rise. Others must have noticed, as the room suddenly fell quiet. "T.S. Elliot said, ' Every moment is a fresh beginning'. We'd all like to welcome Dr Hilda Saunders to our school and hope she finds her time with us a fresh beginning. I'd also like to thank her for what she did on Saturday."

The whole school rose to their feet and applauded. As we were clapping, I leaned across to Tim at the neighbouring table and whispered, "She stopped the person who kidnapped us in Iran."

I saw the whisper spread quickly and by the time we finished clapping there wasn't a student who was looking at her with anything but the utmost respect. Dr Saunders looked confused by the comment about Saturday but would probably ask somebody about it later.

"Okay, enough," said Mr Hobson and we all sat down. "So that Dr Saunders can get to know you all quickly she will be scheduling some time with each of you. Top of her list are pupils Dr Dine normally supports."

As breakfast drew to a close, Brian piped up, "Are you okay David. You've not said a word all day."

"Yeah, Helen told us all the news this morning," said Erika. "That isn't like you."

I looked up and the others on the table. Mr Hobson was sat back, watching this unfold. All the rest of my year were looking at me expectantly. Well almost all the year. Helen looked torn. She knew the situation and we knew we didn't want a fuss in the dining room. The last time that occurred, Jessica had thrown a tantrum and all the pupils had looked on. I didn't want to be a spectacle for the whole school.

"David will explain back in the year room, after we've finished." Helen offered.

Mr Hobson offered his tuppence. "Well, you better finish breakfast quickly. You don't want to be late for your first lesson. Do you? Remember you have some exams soon."

"We will clear the table," said Tim from year three. Since he was the year leader, he'd been in Mr Hobsons office and knew about my voice breaking.

"Thanks," said Helen, flashing her a smile.

It wasn't long before we were back in our year room. Brian was straight out with, "So, what's going on."

"Nothing going-" I started but was soon interrupted.

"Your voice has broken," said Lewis, his eyes wide open. "I'm so jealous."

"Will the male hormones you're receiving help with your voice?" Erika asked.

"That's what I've been told," Lewis stated, trying to make his sound lower. It didn't come out as desired and sounded weird.

I looked across at Martha and Emma. Those are the ones I was concerned about. Martha seemed fine. However, Emma was crying hard, and was being cuddled by Paula.

"Is it David's voice?" suddenly asked Jill passing a big box of tissues to Paula

Emma nodded and grabbed a tissue and loudly blew her nose.

"You're on blockers," Paula reminded her partner. "It won't happen to you."

I went across and put my arm around Emma. "You are Emma. That is who you are and who you will be forever. I'm..." I paused. I nearly said that I was coffee, but that would just have confused her. I'm glad Helen got the analogy. "I'm me. If you call me David or Jayne, I'm me. I'm still trying to understand what that means and what I need. However, there is one thing I'm sure about is that I don't want to transition, and Rachel agrees. For me, I'm glad that my voice has broken. For you, it will never happen, and you will be Emma forever."

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