“Tch.” Mrs Smith strode across the room. “You’ve got to learn to cook for when you marry. Stupid girl. Turn the gas on first.”
“I did.”
“Tch.” The teacher knelt, put her head in the oven and came up spluttering. “You tried to kill me! Go to the headmaster. I’ll have you expelled.”
Amelia told the headmaster. He ordered her out, coughing uncontrollably. Nothing was ever said, but did that tale spread through the Common Room!
Amelia now? CFO of a major bank. She never did need cookery lessons.