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We are in the modern classroom. It is Parents’ Evening. I am a teacher. I am working on the gravitas and some Pastoral nodding - and trying to be professional - it’s all the go these days. A queue is waiting to see me. No-one is awe-struck. Out goes stark Insensitivity. In comes Positive Reinforcement- a bit of Concern and kindness. I will hopefully listen for more than 10 seconds. And euphemism. A good Thing too most of the time - but there are hazards...

.. Dave Mania for example. Mr Mania and Mrs. Mania drag their offspring to the desk. I taught Mr. Mania. Well I didn’t. He bunked. Just like Dave. Dave is a chip off the Old Block - indeed he is worse. Dave’s levels are more Inferno than Curriculum. I try to positively reinforce the Erring Nitwit. To spin a few euphemisms on his behalf. Mr Mania doesn’t buy this. He threatens extreme violence upon his son. Mrs. Mania suggests that this would be less than helpful. She starts to weep. Dave is carted off and walloped. My fault. I have grassed him up.

We are at Pimlico school. Another parents’ evening. I am a parent. So is the wife. We have come to find out about the daughter. We feel most apologetic. We already know about her helicopter impressions in maths. I go undercover. My daughter tells me I can’t go as a teacher - or her father - or at all. We wander from teacher to teacher. One looks a bit battered and will join the church. I hope my daughter has not driven him into the arms of Jesus. The teachers are wonderful. Kind and patient and wise - more than I can be. They are as kind as Sam Morgan was callous. But I know the code - maybe they would rather be planting vegetables.

Then - whoops! - a teacher reveals a whole list of absences. My wife is stunned. She took daughter to the tube station every day. Daughter then spent whole day with bunking chums in a coffee bar - or Opium den. My wife bursts into tears. Parents' Evenings can be painful - whoever you are.

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