The dark mornings signal the return to the staffroom after the Halloween break. Some display signs of a short sojourn in sunnier climes, others vie with the pupils for that more "reluctant" look. All were experiencing a certain foreboding as to what the week would bring.

Pat, who could have done with the £27 per hour offered for supervision, was envious of the display of tanned flesh and was not prepared to hide it. "Great for some," he proffers, with no particular audience in mind. "What's the use of using the 'poor mouth' to justify a wage increase when half the staffroom still smells of suntan lotion?"

Nobody rises to the bait. Warming to the theme, he announces that the Boss had contacted all recently retired staff members and some of his cronies from the parents' council to see would they do supervision and substitution.

"We probably won't know for a while how successful he was," says Mary, the school steward. "There will be a union meeting during lunchtime today," she adds.

The vice-principal arrives to pin up the list of teachers who require substitution today. The list contains the names of Jim and Tony who have important matches. Mary wants the afternoon off to put the finishing touches to the annual musical.

The list is a stark reminder of what will happen if all substitution for absent colleagues is withdrawn.

"I have no sympathy for management," declares a sullen Tom.

"They 'piggybacked' on our action all of last year and now that it has all broken down they are coming out with this 'nobody loves me' routine."

Quiet Mary chirps up that she heard during the break that five of the best sixth years had already departed for a "grind" school.

If the union eventually moves on this, 2001 will always be remembered as the end of the days of "grace and favour".