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People have always
trusted me with their secrets.

 

But who do I trust with mine?

 

You. Only you.

 

The first day of a new term.

 

Here come the local
pubescent proles...

 

the future plumbers
and shop assistants...

 

and doubtless the odd terrorist too.

 

In the old days, we confiscated
cigarettes and wank mags.

 

Now it's knives and crack cocaine.

 

And they call it progress.

 

Roger!

 

- Piss off!
- Tony. Tony.

 

Mrs. Hart, art department.

 

1517, Martin Luther
nails his 95 points...

 

to a church door
in Wittenberg...

 

Poison granny.

 

Piss off, you prick.

 

Before we begin, for those of you
who haven't delivered your reports...

 

please lob them
in my general direction.

 

Thank you, Bill.
Thank you, Mary.

 

Thank you, John.
Thank you, Elaine.

 

Ah. Has everyone met our new
art teacher, Sheba Hart?

 

- Hello.
- I've asked Sheba to sit in on this meeting.

 

As you all know,
I regard the arts...

 

as absolutely essential to our policy
of reform through nurture.

 

Thank you, Chris.

 

Very good. Very good.
Ah, thank you, Sue.

 

I say, that's a big one, isn't it?

 

I'll be up till the crack of dawn.

 

Anyone else not handed in
their homework? Right.

 

And, uh, thank you.

 

Lovely. Thank you.

 

Barbara?

 

This is your report?
On the history department?

 

On its entire workings?

 

And your general thoughts
for its future development?

 

You'll find it's quite
thorough, Headmaster.

 

"The history department functions
much as one would expect...

 

"for a school of this
stature and intake.

 

"Examination results have been
consistent for 30 years...

 

"below the national average
but above the level of catastrophe.

 

Recommendation:
no change necessary."

 

Took me most of the summer
to write it.

 

Hard to read the wispy novice.

 

Piss off, you prick.

 

Is she a sphinx or simply stupid?

 

All right. Off the phone, please.
Give me the phone.

 

Artfully disheveled today.

 

The tweedy tramp coat
is an abhorrence.

 

It seems to say,
"I'm just like you."

 

But clearly she's not.

 

- A fey person, I suspect.
- Stop it, girls. Just stop it.

 

Fey.

 

Oi, oi. Pass it. Yes.
Come over here. Very good.

 

Yeah!

 

- Put your shirt on.
- I got the winner, miss.

 

Glory be! Shirt!

 

She has certainly
rippled the waters of our stagnant pond.

 

They flock to her.

 

Even limp little Brian had a go.

 

Oh, the horror.

 

- Hiya.
- Oh, hello.

 

- That's a lovely blouse.
- What?

 

And "Fatty" Hodge has pounced on her.

 

A dubious double act.

 

The blonde and the pig in knickers.

 

I just went past the art studio.
It's like bloody Lord of the Flies in there.

 

- Have they gone for her?
- They've torn her posters down.

 

They're chanting,
"Get your tits out for the lads."

 

- Girls too. It's carnage.
- How was madam?

 

Completely lost it. "Stop it! Stop it,
you little fucking bastards!"

 

- You should have stepped in.
- He didn't want to patronize the little lady.

 

She'll be all right.
This time next year, she'll be headmistress.

 

- Christ! Will you shut up!
- Sorry. Sorry.

 

Char, anyone?

 

- Babs?
- Milk, no sugar.

 

- Sweet enough?
- Evidently.

 

Didn't her father invent inflation?

 

Wasn't her dad that academic, Donald whatsit?

 

Economics bloke.
Invented the word "inflation."

 

Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah.
I know who you mean.

 

I think you'll find that Mrs. Hart's father
was Professor Ronald Taylor.

 

He didn't invent "inflation."

 

He devised a theory
about the relationship...

 

between inflation
and consumer expectation.

 

Please get off him! Stop it!

 

You're an arsehole!

 

Stop it!

 

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

 

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

 

You're going to hurt one another.
Now stop it! Please get off him!

 

Enough! Outside!

 

Now!

 

You're a wanker.

 

- Fuck off!
- Absolute silence! Absolute!

 

Why were they fighting, Mrs. Hart?

 

Their motive was unclear.

 

Davis I know. You're a little thug.
Who might you be?

 

- Steven Connolly, miss.
- What?

 

- Steven Connolly, miss.
- Year?

 

Year 10, miss.

 

You're the naked footballer.
Why were you fighting?

 

- It's a perfectly simple question.
- Don't know, miss.

 

You don't know. One minute
you're an inert lump...

 

the next you're trying
to castrate a fellow pupil.

 

Nothing occurred
between these two states?

 

- No, miss.
- Don't play the hero with me, Connolly.

 

Yes. Brain. Mouth. Speak.

 

He was saying stuff about miss.
It was bang out of order.

 

- What did you say?
- I never said nothin', miss.

 

"I didn't say anything."
What did he say? Come on!

 

He said she's a tart.

 

He said he gave her one up the arse.

 

Did you, indeed?
Odious boy.

 

- Apologize at once.
- Sorry, miss.

 

Deputy head in the morning.
Get back inside, both of you.

 

Little towers of testosterone.
You'll soon get used to them.

 

Thank you so much.

 

I better... Oh, I'm sorry.
We haven't met properly, have we?

 

- I'm Sheba Hart.
- Barbara Covett.

 

Her voice is pure...

 

as if her mouth
were empty and clean...

 

as if she'd never had a filling.

 

The complexion of a white peach.

 

One can almost see her veins.

 

Her trendy politics
are similarly transparent.

 

We serve them best
if we teach them to read, write and add.

 

They don't need to know
about the basket weavers of Chile.

 

- Barbara's very keen on the basics.
- But when you started...

 

I mean, didn't you want to
give them a real education...

 

to help them overcome the poverty
of their backgrounds?

 

Oh, yes, of course.

 

But one soon learns that
teaching is crowd control.

 

Come here!

 

We're a branch
of the social services.

 

Put that back, you!

 

Console yourself with the gems.
That's when it's satisfying.

 

Then you can make a real difference.

 

The rest is just
cattle prod and pray.

 

I can see why others are beguiled by her.

 

Oh, hello.

 

But I wonder if she possesses
the requisite heft.

 

- Do you fancy a coffee?
- Yeah.

 

Sheba!

 

- Sorry. I...
- That's the year 11 s. They're a nightmare.

 

- Sue, do you want to join us?
- Great.

 

I've got a bit of an announcement.

 

You're leaving St. George's?

 

- No.
- Oh, you're pregnant.

 

That's fantastic.

 

Oh, congratulations.
When are you due?

 

- June the 7th.
- A summer baby. How lovely.

 

I can't believe that nobody's noticed.
I'm 14 weeks.

 

Didn't you see how chunky I'm getting?

 

Didn't like to say.
Where are you having it?

 

- Homerton. It's really nice there.
- Oh, right.

 

Lovely, friendly nurses.

 

I'm going to find out
at the next scan... 20 weeks.

 

Do you want to come
to lunch on Sunday?

 

- Where?
- To mine. To our house.

 

- Won't you be with your family?
- Yes, but you're very welcome.

 

Oh, it's no big deal.
I'll just do a lasagna or something.

 

I adore lasagna.

 

Bliss. A merry flag...

 

on the arctic wilderness
of my calendar.

 

One must make an effort
when one receives an invitation.

 

The art of it is seeming not to.

 

Lasagna tends
to disagree with my bowels.

 

I'll ask for a small portion.

 

- I think I've got the wrong house.
- No. You're bang on.

 

I'm Richard. Come in.

 

I'm sorry. I thought...

 

That I'd be 20 years younger
and twice as handsome.

 

- Bash!
- The kitchen's on fire!

 

Sorry if you were out there long.
The, uh... The bell's knackered.

 

- Hi, Barbara.
- Hello.

 

Oh, what a splendid room.

 

What can I get you? We're, uh...
We're semi-pro drinkers here. You name it.

 

I would like a dry sherry, please.

 

Ah. Uh, I think we might have
some apricot brandy knocking around.

 

- Uh, dry white wine.
- Done. Have a seat.

 

Where's the, uh, wine?

 

Well, scrape it. Do you want to...
For a moment. Is it in the fridge?

 

You must be Polly.
I'm Barbara.

 

Hi, Barbara.

 

Are you going somewhere?

 

- Excuse me?
- You're all poshed up.

 

Uh, I have an appointment.

 

Uh, later. In town.

 

- Have you always lived here?
- Mum inherited it.

 

- It's her little joke.
- I only married her for the property.

 

Did Pete go?

 

He was welcome to stay.

 

He's not really into lunch.

 

Cheers.

 

Are you interested in wine?

 

Only the drinking part.

 

Well, I spent a portion of
the summer on the Amalfi coast...

 

Here's trouble.

 

Oh, no, no, no, no.
Easy! Rocky! Easy!

 

Easy, easy, wheezy.

 

I'd anticipated a suave young lawyer...

 

- Barbara?
- and two perfect poppets.

 

Not so.

 

She's married some
crumbling patriarch.

 

He's nearly as old as me.

 

And then there's the daughter,
a pocket princess.

 

And, finally, a somewhat
tiresome court jester.

 

Ah, lovely. Thank you.

 

I'm going to be a wizard.

 

Is that when you're grown up?

 

No. He's just been cast
in his school play.

 

I'm gonna wear a cape.

 

- I'm the one with the car.
- Amongst next year's cultural highlights...

 

I greatly look forward
to Benjamin Hart...

 

in the key role of the wizard.

 

And, indeed, I find myself
beside myself with anticipation.

 

A rogue image swam through me:

 

hubby's pruney old mouth
pursed at Sheba's breast.

 

After lunch, a rather
mortifying family tradition.

 

They do things differently
in bourgeois bohemia.

 

Thank you.

 

Come on. Come on.
Come on.

 

No.

 

- You ready?
- Watch out.

 

Yes!

 

Took me away for our anniversary.
It was years ago.

 

When we came back, it was here.

 

As if by magic.

 

Was supposed to be my studio.

 

It's more of a refuge, really.

 

A room of one's own.

 

Is this you?

 

It was.

 

Oh, I love these.
Such vibrant colors.

 

Take one. Take two.
Have the lot, actually.

 

- I couldn't possibly.
- Honestly, no one else wants them.

 

Oh, I'll treasure them.

 

Must be exhausting...
running a family and teaching as well.

 

Oh, I can't wait for term to end.

 

Roll on, Christmas,
and a month of sod-all.

 

I shouldn't have kidded
myself I could teach.

 

It's just that I... I've spent
the last 10 years looking after Ben...

 

and I'm so desperate
to get out and do something.

 

And finally we get him into this great
local school, and I'm free to work, and...

 

You're gonna be a terrific teacher.

 

Thanks.

 

But I'm bloody hopeless,
and everyone knows it.

 

Children are feral.

 

Don't let them sense your anxiety.

 

- How do you cope?
- Oh, I'm just a battle-ax.

 

I'm not popular,
but they respect me.

 

Well, you're popular with me.

 

It's strange. I feel
I can talk to you.

 

She spoke of her vile mother...

 

her grief over the death
of her father...

 

the glory days when Richard
scooped her up...

 

and then jettisoned
wife and children...

 

for what she called
a nonstop fuck fest.

 

It's a peculiar trait
of the privileged:

 

immediate, incautious intimacy.

 

But Sheba went well beyond
the tendencies of her class.

 

She was utterly candid.

 

A novice confessing
to the mother superior.

 

You know, marriage and kids...
I mean, it's wonderful.

 

But it doesn't give you meaning.

 

It gives you an imperative,
but it doesn't help you...

 

My father always used to say...
you know, on the tube... "Mind the gap."

 

I don't know.

 

It's just the distance
between life as you...

 

dream it and...

 

life as it is.

 

I know exactly what you mean.

 

A gold star day.

 

I always knew we'd be friends.

 

Our mutual reserve inhibited us...

 

but now it is manifest...
a spiritual recognition.

 

At the end of this year,
many of you will enjoy Christmas.

 

"S" and I share the ability...

 

to see through the quotidian
awfulness of things.

 

In a different, better age,
we would be ladies of leisure...

 

lunching together,
visiting galleries, traveling...

 

putting the world to rights.

 

We would be companions.

 

It's taken. I'm saving it for Sheba.

 

Sorry.

 

Very good! Well done!

 

Ben, put it in the car, would you, please?

 

Ben, pop it in the car, sweetheart. Hello?

 

I need to speak to you
about Steven Connolly.

 

Who?

 

Let's not, shall we?

 

Doubtless you're aware you've
committed a criminal offense.

 

I'll be with you at 5:00.

 

Let's go to the pub, okay?

 

- No, Boxing Day...
- When-When will you tell them?

 

I need to know the circumstances.

 

You must inform me of everything.

 

Actually, you were there
when I first saw him.

 

- I think you gave him a telling-off.
- Yeah!

 

I gave him a slight ticking off.

 

He dedicated his goal to me.

 

It amused me.
Nothing more.

 

A few days later, he came to see me.

 

Miss, would you have a look
at me drawings, please?

 

I'll look at them in class.
You do art, don't you?

 

I'm not allowed.
I'm special needs.

 

I gotta do extra reading instead.

 

Did you do these at home?

 

These are good.
You can draw.

 

If we pull strings for one child...

 

the whole system will unravel.

 

But he's talented. He's actually
found something he believes in.

 

Well, they're all talented.

 

You found your gem,
as Sue would say.

 

I said that I would teach him after school,
but only if he felt like it.

 

It's our job, isn't it?

 

Within specified hours
and a specified curriculum.

 

Barbara, he came
every day for two weeks.

 

Yes, I was flattered,
but... and more than that.

 

I was excited to find someone
who wanted to learn.

 

And he imagined a sort
of helicopter 500 years ago.

 

Does your brain in.

 

But surely you must
have suspected his motives.

 

I sensed he had
a little crush on me.

 

But so what?
And it was innocent.

 

That's so much better.
You've absolutely got that knuckle.

 

Nailed it.

 

Do that again, miss.

 

Don't be silly.
Off you go.

 

What are you having for tea, miss?

 

I don't know.
Probably buy something on the way home.

 

- Are you a good cook?
- Not really.

 

You suck?

 

Go home, Steven.

 

Well, that's when
you should've stopped it.

 

I did. I told him I wouldn't
teach him anymore.

 

He refused to accept it.
He just kept coming back.

 

Miss!

 

It began to feel like our secret...

 

and secrets can be...
seductive.

 

- Do you want to come for a walk?
- Absolutely not.

 

I'm going home to my family,
as should you.

 

Miss.

 

My dad's got the sack.
He's been taking it out on me.

 

His father had been hitting him.

 

- He didn't want to tell his mum because she was ill.
- Does your mother know?

 

Kidney disease.

 

It's taken months for an operation.

 

He was so vulnerable.

 

Well, if he does it again,
you tell me.

 

Thanks, miss.

 

You're beautiful, miss.

 

You don't know
how beautiful you are.

 

I hadn't been pursued like this for years.

 

I knew it was wrong and immoral
and completely ridiculous...

 

but I don't know.

 

I just allowed it to happen.

 

The boy is 15!

 

But he's quite mature for his age.

 

"But" is not a helpful word here.

 

This is gonna sound sick.

 

But something in me
felt... entitled.

 

You know, I've been
good all my adult life.

 

I've been a decent wife,
dutiful mother, coping with Ben.

 

This voice inside me kept saying...

 

"Why shouldn't you be bad?
Why shouldn't you transgress?

 

You've earned the right."

 

I said get out, Denzel. The rest of you
get on with your work, please.

 

Hurry up.

 

Still, I wouldn't mind being wingman.

 

That's a shame.
'Cause you are as ugly as wank...

 

and you're never
gonna be able to do shit.

 

Sue phoned.
Okay if I meet her for a drink?

 

Sure. I'll put bug-a-lugs to bed.

 

Evening, miss.

 

Make yourself comfortable.

 

It's incredibly important
we keep this secret.

 

Does anyone know you're here?

 

No.

 

Miss. Miss.

 

I'm no genius,
but I ain't a dickhead.

 

I won't tell no one.

 

You can trust me.

 

We'd both get into terrible trouble.

 

It was easy.

 

Like having another drink
when you know you shouldn't.

 

Can I smoke, miss?

 

You can do what you want,
but enough of this "miss."

 

Were you a model once?

 

Well, you should have been.
You're well fit.

 

Gosh, but don't I know it.

 

You're into the Streets?

 

Oh, well, my daughter is.

 

She the same age as me?

 

None of your beeswax.

 

Well, anyway,
the point is you're fit.

 

- Well, so are you.
- You reckon?

 

My sister thinks I look
like a bollock with measles.

 

You've done my brain in.

 

You want to do it again?

 

What?

 

Yes.
I want to do it again.

 

I want to do it again.

 

The day we met,
it had already begun?

 

Yes.

 

Deputy head in the morning.

 

Noble sentiment, Connolly.
Next time words, not fists.

 

Get inside, both of you.

 

And you had further relations that day?

 

We went to the art room.

 

Well, I'm glad I was such an aphrodisiac.
I was trying to help you.

 

Well, you did.
I'm incredibly grateful.

 

You've been such a good friend.

 

Not reciprocated, it seems.

 

I desperately wanted
to confess to you.

 

But how could I?

 

Barbara?

 

It would have put you
in an impossible situation.

 

I so wish I had.

 

You would have made me see sense.

 

And then I realized my fury had blinded me.

 

There was a magnificent
opportunity here.

 

Can we go inside?
I'm absolutely freezing.

 

With stealth,
I might secure the prize...

 

long-term, forever in my debt.

 

I could gain everything...

 

by doing nothing.

 

Look, Bar...

 

I know you have to tell them.

 

You know, the head, the, uh, school.

 

All I ask is that
you wait till the new year.

 

Please. I'm begging you.

 

Please let me have this
Christmas with my family.

 

Oh, you poor thing.

 

You've got yourself into a state.

 

I'm not going to report you.
I want to help you...

 

to support you through this.

 

You're not... not going to tell?

 

You won't tell anyone?

 

Who would it benefit?
Not you or the boy.

 

Certainly not the school.
No, this is a private matter.

 

We must keep it so.

 

Yes.

 

Maybe I should resign.

 

Oh, no. No, that
might alert suspicion.

 

No, you must stay at the school,
but the affair must end.

 

Your solemn promise.

 

I can't help you
if you don't promise.

 

I promise.

 

So you'll tell him
straight after Christmas?

 

- It's all for the best.
- I know.

 

Thank you so much.
You've been so brilliant.

 

And you'll tell me when it's done?

 

Oh, you never said.

 

Standard issue for spinsters.

 

Actually, she's been off her food recently.
I've been a bit worried about her.

 

There's a terrific vet up the road.
He was great with Ben's rabbit.

 

Got many people coming tomorrow?

 

My lot. Richard's lot,
including first wife.

 

And your mother?

 

- Oh, yes.
- Well, happy Christmas.

 

Yeah, you too.
Thank you so much.

 

Courage, mon brave.

 

And bon voyage to her little leprechaun.

 

Sheba and I share
a deep understanding now.

 

No one can violate
our magnificent complicity.

 

No, no, no!
Wait till tomorrow!

 

Stop.

 

You've been gone ages.

 

Oh, Barbara was a lit...
Oh, some school thing.

 

- How's his nibs?
- Oh, still awake.

 

He's madly excited.
I said he could stay up for you.

 

And Polly?

 

Depressed.

 

Uh, Pete phoned.

 

They had a row,
and he's not coming tomorrow.

 

Do you think he's bad news?

 

Well, these older men
can be very dodgy.

 

Did Daddy tell you?

 

He's gonna bin me.
I know it.

 

You're very lovely, darling.
He's clever enough to appreciate it.

 

I'm fat as fuck, Mum.

 

He'll be back.

 

I can't live without him.

 

Her fetish for the boy
was simply her snobbery manifested.

 

He's working-class,
and he likes art.

 

As if he were a monkey
who just strolled out of the rain forest...

 

and asked for a gin and tonic.

 

Have you heard from that
friend of yours, Barbara?

 

Bar? Wakey-wakey.

 

Lorraine was asking
if you'd heard from that nice friend of yours.

 

- Who?
- Jennifer Dodd.

 

She left the school.

 

She's teaching
in a primary at Stoke.

 

There's a chap, apparently.
I heard they're engaged.

 

But it's true.
It would be insane, wouldn't it?

 

It's the most ridiculous
possible time for him to be selling.

 

Well, that's what I said.
I said that.

 

He should give me a ring.
It's absolute madness for him.

 

- There you are, darling.
- I am happy... I am happy to speak to him.

 

I'm none of the kind.
I'm nothing of the kind.

 

Darling? Can we have gravy, darling?

 

Darling, there's no gravy.

 

It's taking half an hour
to explain the whole thing.

 

Ever since Ronald died,
she's drifted inexorably.

 

You see, her father
was an exceptional man.

 

Exceptional.

 

Bathsheba's a loner, I'm afraid.

 

She's beautiful, thank God,
and it's got her through -

 

- but it's not quite the same as
possessing substance.

 

Happy Christmas.

 

What are you doing here?
Everyone's inside.

 

Aren't you gonna open it?

 

It's... It's made of real fake gold.

 

Thank you.

 

What's up?
I haven't heard from you.

 

I can't see you anymore.

 

I'm sorry. I...

 

I just can't.
It's over.

 

Why?

 

Bash? Bash?

 

She's not here.

 

Was that your dad?

 

No. It was an uncle.

 

Do you wanna end it?

 

Please don't look at me like that.

 

- Have you gone off me?
- No.

 

You should go.
Please don't make...

 

Just go.

 

She gave you what?

 

- What color are they?
- Is it Pete?

 

White?

 

I long to phone "S," but it's late.

 

Poor girl. All alone
with her awful family.

 

Our lives are acutely similar
in so many respects.

 

Sis?

 

Writing the old diary?

 

I can't imagine how you keep at it.

 

I'd have nothing to say.

 

Hello.

 

You know, you're welcome
whenever you want.

 

Not just once a year.

 

It's just that I'm
rather busy at the moment.

 

Your racy London life.

 

Well, I'm glad it's so full.

 

I'm sorry about Jennifer.
She was lovely.

 

Is there anyone else?
Someone else who's special?

 

I don't know what you mean.

 

I didn't... I didn't mean to pry.

 

Belated Christmas present.

 

Oh, thank you.

 

Oh, my word! Asprey.

 

How is she?

 

You are the most wonderful friend.

 

Any good?

 

It's a masterpiece.

 

Don't they teach you anything?

 

We used to worship her.

 

- Take it off.
- What's it for?

 

Just take it off, please.
I'm still making it.

 

Yeah, but why?

 

It-It's for my son.

 

- But he's 12, isn't he?
- He's got Down syndrome.

 

You never said.

 

Right.

 

Sorry.

 

I'm sure she's had a very happy life.

 

Oh, yes. She has.
Thank you.

 

We could make her feel more comfortable
for the next few weeks...

 

but it will be weeks
rather than months.

 

You've had a terrible shock.

 

Where's Richard?
I don't want to disturb your weekend.

 

It's fine.
Everyone's out.

 

Can they treat her?

 

He says it's just a matter of weeks.

 

She's only a pet.

 

Oh, no! I cried for weeks
when our dog died. Weeks.

 

One does get so attached.

 

I should leave you in peace.

 

Yeah.

 

I like that top.
It suits you.

 

Oh, thanks.