I could go and talk to her now but I knew that I wouldn’t. I bent my head down over the essays I was marking, marveling at how little my pupils had ...bsorbed, all except for Mark Hemming. He was a sponge, and I’d already written a university reference for him. I could see him as one of the next generation of history teachers, though I wasn’t certain that we needed any more. Disillusion is a killer in my job and claims more victims than anything else. I knew I was feeling it too. I glanced up as. My shoulder ached, as I tried again to remain conscious. The bumps in the road sent jolts of pain from the knife wound, I felt the slice of the blade deep inside, worse than the initial thrust. I was drifting in and out now like I was on a three day bender, barely able to remember where I was or what I was doing there. The pain was nothing now, I knew pain and this wasn’t it. Pain was the tears in Veronica’s eyes as she packed to leave me. Pain was the fear that I would never she her again. The. More

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