I Can't Put A Figure On It.

"Arh yes, Mr and Mrs Leigh, it's nice to see you again. Sit down please."

Open night, my Mam and Dad up the school getting it straight from the horses mouth. I hate open night.

"Right, well, Shaun. Phew, what can I say?"

"Well how's the lad doing, that might be a good start."

"Right, right, right, great yeah, sure. The thing is, Shaun, Shaun's got talent...

-Jesus, our Shaun's right this ones a tosser alright. Still, English teacher, bloke, what'd you expect?

... but he's got no, he has no, erm, he has no drive. He doesn't seem to care. He's wasting what God's given him."

"What do you mean Mr Fisher? Is he not doing his homework?"

-Fucking woman's haircut. Looks like he dyes it. Cord jacket. And that tie, what the fuck is that tie all about?

"Oh no, no, no. No, no, no, no ,no... He does his work but it's just that. Well, it's... How can I put this?"

"Why don't you just tell us what he's not doing that he should be doing?"

"Right Mr Leigh, right. Well, the thing is, I think he's capable of more."

- It's fucking knitted. His tie's fucking knitted. Jesus, you're gonna sit there and slag my lad off while wearing a knitted tie?

I know they're gonna kill me when they get home. They always do. I always fuck up somehow.

"More? In what way?"

"Well, I can't, I can't really ..."

"What is it, words, paragraphs, pages, what do you want?"

"Well, it's not really a matter of quantifying it like that it's just that I know he has more in him."

"What my husband's trying to say is if you tell us what it is you want him to do we'll make sure he does it."

"I just feel he's capable of more, it's not about the number of pages or words, it's just he has..."

"More in him?"

-Jesus have you seen him, playing with his 'tashe?

"Exactly Mr Leigh."

"Put a number on more please Mr Fisher."

"I can't. I really can't I just don't..."

"One hundred words? Two Hundred words? Three hundred..."

"Please Mr Leigh, we're not really getting anywhere with this are we?"

"Look Mr Leigh, I'm sure you're a very intelligent man but our Shaun, well look at us, he's our son, we never went to college, we just need to know what you want from him and the lad will do it. Give us a figure to work with."

"Please don't put me on the spot like this. Shaun has talent and he really, really needs to develop it"

"Right come on love let's go see the maths teacher. Thanks for your time Mr Fisher. The lad'll write more, he'll try harder. "

"Please erm, I hope I haven't..."

"We won't take up any more of your time"

"Thank you Mr Fisher, thank you."

"Come on love, maths teacher."

"Jesus, what chance has the lad got of knowing how much to write if the teach doesn't know?"

"He seems a nice man, a bit confused but a nice man. He reminded me of someone."

"Oh aye?"

They're back.

"Mam, dad, how'd it go?"

"Well son you'd need to be a fucking detective to work that English teacher out"

"Shoestring!"

"What Mam?"

"Shoestring."

"Yeah, you'd need to be Eddie Shoestring to work that one out.

"Funny that, the kids call him Shoestring. Did you see his knitted tie?"