Mister B

Miss Clarke and Mr Bentley were sat by the window of the small room in a shaft of low sunlight. She chatted in her singsong voice as she made a few notes in the register, as Mr Bentley fought off the urge for a speedy nap, whilst they awaited the final student of the day.       

Voices approached along the corridor.

“I need to go home now, please” said a small anxious voice. “ I have to go to football practice. I don’t like reading. Pleeeease, Mrs Evans, pleeease can I go home?”

“Come along, Sami - this will be different. Everyone likes reading with Miss Clarke and Mr Bentley.”

“But everyone laughs at my reading or gets cross with me ..”

The door was tapped and pushed open, and a small wrigglesome boy was nudged through, followed by the broad barricade that was Mrs Evans.

“Good afternoon, this is Sami, and he has come to read to you.”

Looking up from the floor, Sami saw pretty Miss Clarke, and Mr Bentley’s kindly eyes and smart waistcoat, and a broad nervous smile crept across his tear-stained face. Mrs Evans retreated, and the door clicked firmly behind him.

“Welcome, Sami” said the bubbly young woman by the window - “I’m Lucy, and this is Mister Bentley. Please take a seat.”

Sami sank into the comfy chair, and after a brief chat, he was invited to select a book from the table beside him. He chose one with a picture on the front of a boy in a meadow with a ball. Mr Bentley seemed to approve of this choice, and moving to sit next to the lad, offered him a high five before he opened it.

Sami gulped, and stared at the first page, where all the words immediately began to leap around and torment him. He took a deep breath and crashed into the first word .. P, P, Pet, P. Tearfully, he looked across at Mister Bentley, to be met by the steadiest, kindly gaze of someone who really was tuned in and listening to him, and eager to hear the story. He gently touched Sami’s knee, as Lucy said “Take your time, Sami, take your time ….”

Slowly, the words unravelled in front of his eyes, and after a stumble or two, it came to him: “PPPeter. Peter licks, Peter l-likes to … Peter likes to play f, fff, ffootball …”

Mr Bentley wagged his tail enthusiastically, and laid his head on Sami’s knee.