Mystery of the Art Teacher

    After morning prayers and breakfast the bell rang for assembly. The assembly hall had been polished clean over the holidays and gleamed to perfection. Mother Priscilla, the head of the convent, appeared on the stage.
    ‘Good morning girls,’ she said. ‘I am sure you are well rested after the break and are prepared to start the term with vigour and enthusiasm. A warm welcome to the new girls who are joining the convent this year. When we finish here you will be given your new books, stationery and timetables for the term. You may visit the school shops for all the other items on your lists.’
    ‘I would also like to introduce Mrs Castle, the new art teacher who is joining us this year. Mrs Castle will be teaching year groups four and above. I am sure you will learn a great deal about artistic techniques and art appreciation from her.’
    An old lady walked onto the stage.
    Marina gasped. Anya’s jaw dropped and Rita’s eyes could have easily popped out of their sockets. For in front of them stood the strangest looking lady they had ever seen.
    ‘She looks so... so... crooked,’ whispered Anya.
    Mrs Castle had a tight white bun neatly knotted on her head, old-fashioned tweed clothes and a stick to lean on. She looked up and smiled and instantly the stained teeth in the front on her mouth stood out like two rotting cherries in a bowl of fresh ones. She was hunched over her walking stick awkwardly as if her standing upright depended upon it. Her eyes peered through her dark rimmed glasses, frantically scanning the auditorium like a scared mouse caught in a glare of lights.
    ‘What a strange looking lady,’ mumbled Betty.
    Just then Sister Teresa read out the names of the form teachers for each year group.
    Throughout the time that Sister Teresa spoke, Mrs Castle looked around nervously and not one gaze in the hall left her.
    ‘And for Form Four, Mrs Bennett,’ said Sister Teresa. ‘Please follow your form teachers to your new class rooms now.’
    The girls, still perplexed by the sight of their new art teacher, followed Mrs Bennett to their classroom in the new building, that was located in the right wing of the convent.
    ‘Where did they get her from?’ asked Betty.
    ‘She looks like she’s passed her sell-by date,’ smirked Tammy.
    ‘Girls, can you please find your desks and sit down, in an orderly fashion,’ said Mrs Bennett.
    The first lesson in Form Four had officially begun.