Street Wars

As I waited in the car park for my sister and our appointment to view the ‘out of catchment’ school of choice for Chickie, a sudden knock on the window almost made me wet my pants.


Two familiar faces peered in. Philip and Louisa from No 32. The perfect couple with above average everything.

They waited, all attractive and intelligent looking, whilst I clambered out of the car. After a posh double/triple kiss (the one where I never know which cheek to kiss first or the right number of kisses to apply and end up headbutting everyone), I casually asked, “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve got an appointment to see the school” Philip chimed. Drat - they lived at least 20 metres closer to the school than us.

“You’re both looking especially dapper” I commented, raising an eyebrow. Philip looked like he was wearing Armani and Louisa’s outfit seemed tightly based around the tones of his aqua pink twill stripe Windsor double cuff shirt.
“Yes, well I was wearing something very similar to what you’ve got on” she nodded at my woolly dress and leggings, “but Philip sent me back upstairs to change.”
“Yes, it’s very important to make the right impression, don’t you think?” he beamed.

At which point my sister over-revved her way into our lives before abandoning her giant car at an angle that effectively shut off emergency access to the school.

“Her boys used to come here” I explained as she started to weep as we made our way across to reception. “And she was so very active within the school” I added, smiling up at Philip sweetly as all the teachers rushed out to hug her.

After signing in, my sister and I took our seats across from the administrative team. Philip began to tut. “Oh dear, I think you’ll find it’s the 30th today, Liz” he said loudly, peering smugly over the visitors book at me. “Shall I correct your entry?” I glared at my sister who had told me it was the 29th.

When the Headmistress appeared, I resisted the urge to curtsey, and to stick my tongue out at Philip as she asked after my two nephews.

Then the tour began. Louisa and Philip powered through a list of Jeremy Paxman style questions including curriculum, funding and class sizes. I cooed over the shabby chic toilet cubicles.

“It’s all so tidy” commented Philip.
“Thank you” said the Headmistress.
“Yes, how is Meredith getting on with her destructive phase?” I asked Louisa.

“Have you heard about Chick’s ASBO?” Philip asked my sister.
I laughed along before mentioning how he got a special star for ‘Participation’ in his Sunday School last week.

Afterwards, when Philip had finalised their harvest festival donation arrangements, we walked back to our cars, before double kissing each other and racing each other back to our street.