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every other parent in the playground? I could guess. Mrs Hoyle didn't approve of me and my 'mixed race' child.
    God, how I hated that phrase! When I had first met the teacher at the end of the previous term, Mrs Hoyle had given me a startled look and a really limp handshake. Maybe she had expected Callie Rose's mother to be a Nought, not a Cross. There were mostly Crosses in Callie Rose's class, and some Noughts, but my Callie Rose was unique. At that end-of-term meeting, some of the parents who had children starting at the junior school had also given me more than one look. I had to keep telling myself that everyone who did a double take was not my enemy. But memories had made me wary of glances, askance or otherwise.
    Mrs Hoyle's bloodless lips narrowed still further. 'Your daughter swore at me.'
    Now I wasn't going to have that. No way would Rose swear at her or anyone else for that matter.
    'Rose doesn't know any swear words, so how could she have sworn at you?'
    'Forgive me, Miss Hadley,' Mrs Hoyle said, her tone super-supercilious. 'But all parents think their children can do no wrong. I assure you, your daughter did indeed swear at me.'
    I counted to ten, then ten again before I could trust myself to speak. If she used that imperious tone when calling me 'Miss Hadley' one more time . . .
    'I'll have a word with Rose and find out exactly what happened,' I replied at last.
    'I'm not lying, Miss Hadley.'
    'I never said otherwise, Mrs Hoyle,' I said. 'But I'm sure all this is just a misunderstanding.'
    'Hhmm! Well, I trust it won't happen again,' said Mrs Hoyle.
    Get out of my face, you old hag, I thought. And a lot more besides. But I smiled, careful to keep almost all of what I was feeling out of my eyes. And I turned away first, just in time to see Rose come out into the playground. She started running towards me, only to stop abruptly when she saw her teacher standing with me. And, even from where I was standing, I saw the light go out of her. She walked towards me, her eyes down, her shoulders drooped. One tear dripped to the ground, rapidly followed by another and another as she made her slow way towards me.
    And Mrs Hoyle had done that. Not content with spoiling Rose's first week in the junior school, she'd deliberately sought to humiliate me in front of all the other parents. I wasn't going to forget that in a hurry.
    'If you'll excuse me, Mrs Hoyle, my daughter needs me.'
    I didn't wait for her to reply. I made my way over to my daughter.
    'Rose, stop crying. Don't let your teacher or anyone else ever see you cry. D'you hear me?' I said softly.
    'Yes, Mummy,' Rose sniffed.
    I squatted down in front of her. 'Callie Rose – stop crying. Now.'
    Rose sniffed and gulped and the flow of tears was stemmed.
    'Now we're going to walk out of this place with our heads held high. D'you understand?'
    'Yes, Mummy.'
    'Come on then. Let's go home.' I took my daughter's hand in my own, careful not to hold on too tightly.
    We made our unhurried way out of the school, without catching the eye of a single person. I didn't say a word until the school was way behind us. Then I stopped and looked down at my daughter.
    'OK, Rose. Let's hear why Mrs Hoyle sent you out of the classroom today.'
    Tears reappeared and threatened to wet Rose's cheeks.
    'Uh-uh!' I shook my head. 'No waterworks. What happened?'
    'I don't know why she sent me out,' said Rose. 'I really don't, Mummy.'
    'So tell me what happened before you got sent out,' I said.
    'Well . . .' Rose worried her bottom lip as she thought back. 'Mrs Hoyle was telling us the story of Chicken Licken – the one where an acorn falls on her head and she runs around in a panic, telling all the other animals that the sky was falling. D'you know that one?'
    'Yes, love. So what happened then?'
    'Mrs Hoyle read out, ". . . Chicken Licken ran up to the Goosey Loosey and said, 'The sky is falling! The sky is falling!'" Then Mrs Hoyle looked around a-and she asked, "What d'you think Goosey Loosey