Today was my last day at Millbrook.
The children had already finished for the summer, so the office was quieter than usual. I preferred that. A final day with three hundred pupils and several forgotten lunch boxes would have required too much attention elsewhere.
I completed the handover notes for the new administrator. They came to fourteen pages.
She asked whether there was a shorter version.
‘No, but the headings are clear.’
We went through admissions, attendance, suppliers, staff records, safeguarding access and the jobs that only appeared once a year. I showed her which queries needed an immediate answer and which sounded urgent because somebody had used capital letters.
I returned my keys and access card. The headteacher checked that my accounts had been transferred and that nothing remained under my name.
There was a lunch in the staff room. Pauline came, though she had never worked at Millbrook, and said she was representing my earlier career. Janet sent a card and a note saying I had made difficult days easier to run. That was enough from Janet to count as high praise.
People gave me flowers, vouchers and a folder of messages. I thanked everybody and did not read all the messages there.
The headteacher made a short speech. She said I had known the school better than most people and had always understood what needed doing next.
I nearly corrected ‘always’. I let it go.
After lunch, I checked the office once more. The new administrator had already changed the position of one tray. I did not move it back.
I left after finishing the payroll query that had arrived that morning. It was not my responsibility after today, but it had my name on the earlier email and I wanted it completed.
Pauline met me outside and asked whether I felt retired.
‘I feel as if it is Monday afternoon.’
‘Wait until tomorrow.’
Tomorrow is the first day I will not be employed anywhere since 1979, apart from the years I was at home with Claire and Michael.
I have put the alarm on for half past six. I can turn it off in the morning.