The Day After

I'm in a massive Ian and Barbara mood at the moment, as they are now officially one of my favourite Whoniverse couples. It occurred to me that I haven't seen any fic telling what happened in school the day after they left. So enjoy, my pets!

And I own nothing.

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Almost as soon as Mrs Wilson stepped out of the English classroom on that foggy Wednesday morning, she could hear a class going mad down the hall. That wouldn't do at all, she thought. School was a place of learning and if they wanted to behave like savages they could wait until lunchtime.

"What is going on here?" she bellowed, bursting into the room like a bat out of hell. All activity, whether it was gossiping, writing notes, or throwing ink pellets around the room immediately ceased.

"Where is Miss Wright?" Mrs Wilson continued but as she spoke it occurred to her that she hadn't seen the soft-spoken History teacher at all that morning.

There was no sign that she'd been in at all. Her jacket and bag were nowhere in sight and her chair was in the exact same position it had been when Mrs Wilson left the previous night. The only evidence that anyone had been in that room at all was two bits of paper, one with curious inky designs on it and the other with "Susan Foreman - Borrowed book on French Revolution" on it in Miss Wright's neat handwriting,

"She's not here, Miss," a girl in the front row piped up.

"Oh, Well, I'll take the register and set you some questions to do until she comes."
Mrs Wilson called the roll for the class, but when she got to Susan, she stopped.

"Where is Susan?" she demanded of the class. "Has anyone seen her this morning?"
"No, miss," the same girl replied.

Mrs Wilson set the class a few questions to do, and walked out of the room, intending to go back to her own first form class, when she bumped into Mr Firkin, who taught geography, exiting the science lab.

"Chesterton isn't in today," he informed her, his moustache bristling, as it always did whenever something unusual was on the horizon. "I've telephoned his house, to see if he's under the weather, no reply at all."
"Funny," Mrs Wilson said, more to herself than Mr Firkin. "Neither is Miss Wright. And I saw them leaving together last night."
Mr Firkin cottoned on immediately. He couldn't bear idle gossiping, which was the way the conversation was headed at the moment, and he was eager to get back and explain to his class the joy of glaciated landscapes. "Maybe it's just the fog holding them up. Can't see a thing today. Tripped over the milk bottles coming out of the house."
"We'll see," said Mrs Wilson thoughtfully.

By break time the staff discovered that they were missing two teachers and a student.

"They was waiting here last night. Left about half past four. She left first and then they did," Mr Harvey, the janitor informed them, when he came in to fix a lightbulb.

"Maybe it's just an unlucky coincidence, that they're not here and she didn't come in," Miss Hardy, the art teacher offered.

"Unlucky coincidence!" Mrs Wilson snorted. "I've a notion why those two haven't come into work today. Just look at the evidence."
A few other teachers nodded wisely. Ever since Mr Chesterton had arrived from Bournemouth about two years ago, it was widely suspected that the relationship between he and Miss Wright was far beyond mere professionalism.

"Can't have it. Absolutely not on," Mr Hall, the headmaster declared. "I'll give them a talking to when they come back. Disgraceful example to be setting to the students, running off in work hours to do who knows what."
"They should be back in a day or two," Mrs Wilson declared cheerfully, stirring her tea. She did love gossiping.