The school did have another gay member of staff up until a couple of months back, as it happens : a timorous and nervy creature who taught French, and, in his patchwork denim and multicoloured braces, looked like he's been left behind by a travelling production of Godspell. His name was Mr Majors, and some of the children - well, most of them, actually - called him Farrah Fawcett. In stark contrast to Hamish McClarnon, Farrah held little to no authority over any of his classes, most of whom had decided he was a homo the minute his 'Bonjour, mes enfants' got under way. He fared, I believe, slightly better with a handful of the younger boys - the first and second years - who hadn't quite worked out the implications of his rather liberal hand gestures and assorted silk neckerchiefs, but once the boys hit about thirteen, any wide-eyed notions of Mr Majors being anything other than a 'raving arse bandit' went straight out of la fenetre.