Poor Condition

So I mentioned a few days ago that I had a conditional place to train for a PGCE in Classics at Cambridge School of Education.  A couple of you asked, conditional on what?  After all, I obtained my degree several centuries ago.  I too was curious and waited for a letter of confirmation.  Day after day, when the letterbox clacked, I ran to the doormat like a deluded Labrador with a fetish for envelope gum.  But nothing.

“Maybe it was all a mistake, Carenza?”

“No, Mum, whatever it says on UCAS is binding.”

Furtively I print off a screenshot of my offer.  I shall brandish it as proof in court.

After a week, I decide that I’m allowed to ring the University now.  The administrator answers. 

“Oh, yes, a letter is on its way.”

 

And the conditions?

“An enhanced CRB check.”          Fine

“A couple of health forms.”         Uhuh.  Yep.

“You should attend a Latin Summer School .”  Yes.  Very  enjoyable.

“And the Teaching Skills Tests in Literacy and Numeracy.”  Gulp.

“But I have O levels in Maths and English.”

“All trainee teachers have to pass these tests now.”

I put the phone down and perform a silent imitation of Edvard Munch’s “The Scream”.  The last maths exam I sat was thirty-five years ago, and frankly, that didn’t go too well.