Earth: the early 1980s

Miss Anne Parker, teacher of French, had had an absolutely torrid first two terms at Stowcaster Royal Grammar School. Despite being one of England’s most renowned single-sex state schools, replete with the cream of intelligent and well-brought up boys, she simply couldn’t keep order. Too kind. Too soft. At the age of 26, it was her very first professional placement after qualifying, and as such an illustrious opportunity. They’d wanted to give a chance to a young female teacher, as they were thin on the ground in that school. But it had all gone inexorably wrong from the very first week, as the boys – even the little first years (11 to 12s) – quickly cottoned on.

Not to the fact she was quite pretty in her brunette-bunned and slightly plump way – although the 13s and above expressed a modicum of appreciation for that – but to the mild-mannered appeals for good sense, and the hopeless attempts at sternness. From Anne’s point of view, she’d gone in there with laudable ambitions to be a force for motherly kindness coupled with teaching dynamism in the conjugations and tenses. But it hadn’t worked. And there she sat, in between lessons, taking trembling refuge inside her Austin Mini with a vodka bottle. All the staff as well as the older kids, especially if possessing a sense of smell near to where she breathed, well knew it. Outside the window, all ages filed past in their posh blazers and terrifying exuberance.

It was surely all over, career ending in academic year 1979-80, before it had barely begun. One nervous breakdown last term, but still being given a chance now on the lead-up to Easter. There’d been nuggets of pride, like a shy 12-year-old with cute mop of fair hair whom she’d lately managed to influence into doing good work for her. It was few and far between. Now something new and terrifying was happening...

What in the world was this? Now what the fuck? Drink can’t do this. Going blind? Passing out? No, but it wasn’t that. This was different. She was perfectly awake, and could see her own hands normally enough. Without warning, everything around her, including sounds, was fading into whiteness – as if she were suspended in nowhere – and then within seconds the nowhere was becoming ‘somewhere’.