Ah, to be young and in love!

Amongst all that contract-kerfuffle (love that word!) I forgot to mention there also was a letter the other day from the police asking for a written witness account of a school-related incidence that happened a while back...

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A colleague and I had been on early playground duty before the start of lessons (which basically entails standing at the school gate and stopping the little darlings from being run over by a bus by shouting at them to use the bloody traffic lights) when some 5th Years came running towards us asking for help. "He's hitting her! He won't let her go!" ...Ehm, sure, right. No prob. (completely out of my depth here) So we ran across the street (well, no, not at the traffic lights) and found a strange 18-year-old giving one of our students, his girlfriend, a hard time. Her arms were blotchy and red - from what we later found out to be the marks of a leaden emergency hammer he had stolen in a bus - and he simply wouldn't let go of her, squeezing her wrists hard, pushing her into the hedge...you get the picture. Since we couldn't persuade him to stop harassing her, we borrowed one of the kids's mobile and called the police. (Note to self: Always carry your mobile with you. Always.)

Of course some happy ten minutes passed before a patrol car showed up, by which time we had slowly and very carefully managed to calm the boy and girl down by ourselves, by gently guarding her (all the while not getting so involved he might feel threatened) while trying to talk sense to him, asking for his version of the story, distracting him with questions about his job plans etc. Don't ask me how, but somehow we coaxed him to let go of her. The police car that came was, by the way, not the one we had called for but just happened to be in the area by accident. (How very reassuring!) The officers took our particulars, the girl pressed charges, then I accompanied her to her classroom. The boy I think was sent on his way to his vocational school.

On the way to her classroom the girl filled me in on the background story. Apparently her boyfriend had gone ballistic because she had tried to break up with him because he had forbidden her to go on that school trip to Munich. ... I mean, what the f***?! She told me other things too, about how they'd gone out for over a year, but that after the first few happy months he had begun to control her every step and become increasingly violent when she tried to break out of that "cage". She, in turn, had already once used a knife against him in one of their fights - I had noticed the scar on his hand.

Long story short, there she went back into her classroom. A week later her mother showed up, worried and helpless, asking us for advice, telling us how she couldn't get rid of him, how forbidding her daughter to see him would make things even worse etc. The class teacher and I sat and listened and did the only thing we knew to do, which was give her a bunch of helpline and social service numbers to call.

The girl didn't manage to break up with her boyfriend after all. He was back at the bus stop after just a few days, chatting to her and her friends, holding her hand. When I took her aside one day in my class and carefully asked her what the story was now, she was evasive. I still see them every morning. All seems quiet. So what's with that queasy feeling in my stomach?

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Anyhow, that other day my colleague called me straight away. He seemed quite agitated: "Did you also get a letter from the police asking you to give written evidence?" "Huh, don't know, haven't checked yet. Why?" "Well, 'cause we need to get our stories straight!" ...Is it just me finding that hilarious?!