By Duchess of Hackney

Hackney livin' n lovin'. Sarky frosty knickers always gobby, and perpetually pissed off for good reasons. Wind up merchant extraordinaire, but a nice old fashioned unusually unusual gal... Writing lots of wrongs.

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Yes Miss Grey it was I that slashed the tyres of your car

It was a rag top that looked something like this.

Hearing about the teacher who ‘tried to burn’ a students hair extensions off, brought back memories of my PE teacher during my first year in secondary school, here in London.

It wasn’t my hair that was the problem, but a cameo chain I brazenly wore against school rules. Small crosses were allowed but nothing else.

Miss Grey and I had clashed before, I thought she had it in for me because she would always find something to pick on. She was a wretched horrid woman whom I never saw smile and thinking back now, wondered how she was a Physical Instructor. For starters, she was much older than my mum, who would have been in her early thirties.

Her red permed hair that I’m sure she set in rollers every night, was never out of place. She had very pale skin and a neckĀ  that was as wrinkled as her freckled face. In all the time I knew her, I never saw her in anything but a polyester track suit.

I got sent home while she held on to my cameo and I had to explain to my parents why. The fact that I had been warned several times didn’t make things easier for me at home.

Being excluded from school was a very humiliating experience, so I decided to do something. Miss Grey lived on my street in Hendon. She at no.11 and we at no.23. One night I snuck out armed with an ice pick, and I let out my frustrations the same time the air in the tyres of her Triumph was being let out.

I’d be surprised if she’s still alive, but if she is, now she knows.

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