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At the chalkface: Walk in fear and dread...

Teaching staff
Roxana wanders the Halloween night. She can’t avoid passing through an ill-lit subterranean car park. Boys in grey hoods on baby bikes – more ugly victims of the rancid public discourse – threaten and menace

Roxana is Iranian and in YEAR 7.

She sits in the English class, the last lesson of the day. The teacher is reading the magical Ancient Mariner.

“There was a ship...”

Most of the class are hooked.

Roxana isn’t. She’s Elsewhere. She’s been Elsewhere most of her life.

She catches a few lines, a few images, but ponders on the terrors of her journey home. She dreads it, especially now the clocks have gone back – and it’s Halloween.

The darkness is rich in malevolence.

Roxana is a survivor of savage wars. Her father was killed when she was a baby. Mother and daughter sought asylum in England. Mother is a PhD and a translator and a cleaner of rich folk’s mansions. They came to London and lived in a Bed and Breakfast in Paddington, a hostel in Queensway, and are now in a block near the skeleton of Grenfell Tower.

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