.
‘I’m not eating those, I’ll be sick!’ Mother of Five protests looking at the packet of chocolate Hobnobs.
‘Well, you don’t have to have one if you don’t want to,’ I say hesitating as I place them in the centre of the table.
They stand like a small blue monolith in the centre of the table. Nobody will touch them now. It’s as if they’ve been cursed.
Birthday girl eyes them greedily.
‘I don’t like them either, it’s those wheaty bits at the bottom,’ the lady sitting next to her says while simultaneously chatting loudly on her mobile phone, ‘I prefer chocolate digestives.’
‘I’ll bring some next week,’ I say wearily.
Mobile Phone lady goes back to her more interesting conversation on the phone, while I give out the worksheets and booklets.
The hobnobs had been on special offer,’ buy one get one free’. A bargain! Especially since I’d just been told that I wouldn’t be getting paid at the end of the month for the few meagre hours’ work that I’d already done; I’m having to watch every penny.
Mother of five is giving everyone icy looking mints. She doesn’t offer me any.
At the end of the lesson they get up and leave without saying a word or giving me a backward glance.
In the afternoon I’m working as a volunteer worker with a small group of women from Bangladesh and Afghanistan. They pass a bag of brown toffees under the table to me. They smile and greet me warmly as I try to help them understand the complexities of the English language. At the end they hug me and thank their teachers profusely for the lesson and the help they’ve received.
I am warmed by their smiles and leave to buy chocolate digestive biscuits for my cold hostile English ladies.
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