The children had called the closed off area of the school “the castle “ for as long as she had worked there. From the outside it had the shape of a windowless turret fashioned in white concrete. There was a red door which lacked a key and, now that they were getting a bit tight for space, it had been worth getting a locksmith in to open it up to scrutiny.
Dark, well of course it was – dark, brooding and dusty. Pam felt along the wall for a light switch and finally illuminated the strangest room she had ever seen in a school. There was a sliding glass fronted small room to the left which could house a desk and chair but not much more. To the right was a large room filled with furniture which was still in plastic wrapping. An unplayed piano sat accusingly in the corner surrounded by leather settees and round tables. It was almost like a disused speakeasy that everyone had forgotten. Pam supposed it had been a repository for furniture that hadn’t been needed then, with staff changes, gradually it just became “the castle “ and no one remembered what was inside.
With budgets tight, it might make an ideal learning space for the sixth years – a reward for interval corridor duty and morning uniform checks. Alternatively, it could be a cafe space for the Barista course pupils to ply their wares on Monday afternoons. Perhaps both! Pam loved it when a plan came together.
She’d better check what was up the spiral staircase- just in case…