Ivan stepped out of the taxi, handing some notes to the driver after fumbling in his wallet, and looked up at the tall, towered building that was Waverick Institute for Boys.
It was a miniature castle to his eyes, with all the original stonework on show and surrounded by fields and pastures, far removed from the schools he"d taught at in London.
Gathering up his suitcases with a small gulp, he made his way over to the intricate metal gates, seeing an intercom on the side of the wall next to them and pressing it. It hissed, as though it had been a long time since its last use, then a low yet distinctly feminine voice came through it.
‘May I help you?’ the speaker asked.
Ivan cleared his throat. ‘Yes, my name is Ivan Cornersberg, the new English teacher,’ he replied, feeling a quiver fil
