Mother Be The Judge Read Online Free PDF

reason for the visit, just stating that it was serious and could not wait until another day.
    Jocasta had waited for the bus, her imagination running away with her as to what the reason could be for being called so promptly into school. Had Adrian been beaten up? Had he finally managed to achieve a grade in reading and she was being called in to be congratulated? She had smirked at the thought of that; even if Adrian had managed to conform to their standards of reading, she doubted very much that they would bother to congratulate her for it.
    The school hadn't changed in the thirty years since she had attended there; the walls were still a dirty cream colour and there was still a bare green covering on the floor, too thin to be considered a carpet, but new enough that it wasn't the same one she had walked on as a child. There was a familiar smell to the school which had a calming effect on Jocasta, she had been mercilessly bullied in the playground when she had attended and she had sought sanctuary often in the reception area; protected by the school administrators who were sympathetic to her plight. Many days had been spent by Jocasta counting the stains on the carpet and drawing imaginary lines between each one, creating pictures with her mind to pass the boredom in the self-imposed prison each afternoon.
    The door creaked open in front of her and a male walked out with purpose, presenting himself in front of Jocasta.
    "Thank you for coming in Mrs Brown."
    "It's Miss Brown."
    The raised eyebrow was not lost on Jocasta; it was a standard response to her being a single parent. She never hid the fact, she was proud to be the sole owner of her little boy.
    "I'm Mr Cross, headmaster of the school, please follow me." Mr Cross turned and walked back through the creaking door without looking back, obviously confident that Jocasta would follow him as instructed, she didn't know why he insisted on introducing himself to her every time they met; they had already had a few parent, teacher consultations since Adrian had started school. Jocasta followed Mr Cross down a long narrow hallway which was impossibly hot as every radiator seemed to be on full blast regardless of whether warmth had already been achieved. Jocasta glimpsed through windowed doors which were lined periodically along the corridor. She saw row upon row of children sitting at their desks, some with hands in the air obviously desperate to be the one to give the right answer. At one stage she thought she saw Adrian standing sullenly near a window, staring at the class before him; she didn't have a chance to confirm what she had seen as Mr Cross continued to stride along the corridor and she knew if she didn't keep up she could quite possibly get lost or reprimanded for her tardiness.
    Finally at the end of the hallway, Mr Cross directed Jocasta into an office, it was a rectangle room covered in the felt boards which were familiar to schools, dotted with the hand drawings of pupils and with pictures of smiling school children holding aloft plaques and trophies which had been won. Jocasta sat in the chair indicated to her by Mr Cross.
    "Yes sorry, Miss Brown, thank you for coming in to see me today, I'm afraid we need to speak about your son's behaviour." Mr Cross sat behind his standard council issue desk. He looked decidedly like his name at this point and Jocasta experienced a flutter deep in the pit of her stomach. What could a six year old boy have done to evoke such apparent anger in the head master of his school?
    "Has he been disrupting the class again?" enquired Jocasta, "He has never really settled properly in school, I think he finds it difficult being away from home."
    "We have discussed his settling in before Miss Brown; I am still of the opinion that Adrian is suffering from attention deficit disorder..."
    "That's just jargon..." Jocasta began her usual defence when faced with Adrian's problems.
    "Mrs Brown." Mr Cross's sharp interruption took Jocasta by