“All he had was his wits, his guts, his heart on his sleeve and a long line in put-downs that would usually faze even the hardest low-life. And that Monday morning, as the temperature rose to an unbearable high, he was away with the lowest life possible – the Modern Languages Department at Leighford High. In the status-hungry Nineties, when that great educator Mr Blair had decided that specialism was the name of the game, Leighford High had applied for Language College Status. It hadn’t got ...it, partially because its language results were lower than whale shit and partially because the forms were filled in by Bernard Ryan, the Deputy Head, who had a Lower Second degree in Mediocrity from the University of Crapshire. So, to a man, the Modern Languages Department felt betrayed, let down and disappointed, and they were already curmudgeonly enough before all that. ‘Bonjour, bonjiorno, gutentag, how-the-hell-are-yuh?’ Peter Maxwell was wasted on the History floor.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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