This Week: Back to school

She was dressed in a blue and pink printed flower dress which looked like it was still on its hanger, and the kind of sensible shoes which a punk would have been proud of. Lipstick had been freshly trowelled over her beak-like mouth, the overall effect of which could only be described as devastating.

"Mr Kid? Victoria Prim, Deputy Head of Year. So good of you to come in."
"Jesus... I mean, errr, delighted to meet you," he said, getting up to gingerly shake a proffered bunch of twigs.
"Won't you come in?" It sounded almost like a threat.

His heart pounding a little, he quickly found himself in a small, cell-like office with a severe desk groaning under a pile of paperwork, three walls of dusty maths books, a few chairs and a fearsome green carpet. Behind the desk, through a large window, a dreary grey playground stretched away towards a cluster of sinister-looking classrooms. The whole place looked about as inviting as an abattoir.

"Please have a seat," she said, motioning with a knobbly finger and lowering herself behind the desk slowly, as if on to a rusty tent peg. "A drink perhaps?"
"Cheers. I'll have a large gin and tonic. Lots of ice."
"I was thinking more in terms of tea or coffee."
"I think I'll pass in that case, thanks," he said, trying not to look at the hairy mole on her left wrist. She fixed him with an unpleasant glare.