A Game Of Conkers

By Allison Hay

Shutterstock © Conkers on a branch Illustration: Shutterstock

Illustration: Shutterstock

WRITTEN BY PATSY COLLINS

There’s more to life – and play – than winning, as Steff and her class learn from each other

“I’ve got something to show you,” Steff said, pulling things from her tote bag.

“You’re challenging me to a game of conkers?” Ashley asked.

“What? Oh, no. I meant these.” She handed her friend the leaflets and returned the conkers and other debris to her bag.

Steff watched her friend look through the properties she and her boyfriend were considering buying. Ashley frowned.

“I know they’re not as pretty as my cottage, but we don’t want to over-reach ourselves.”

“That’s sensible, but they’re all miles away from the school,” Ashley said.

“I have long holidays and finish work early in the afternoons, so the drive won’t really be a problem for me.”

“So says Tyler!”

He had said it, but that didn’t make it any less true. Steff was a primary school teacher. Although, as with other teachers, she often worked outside of term time and school hours, she still finished at three most days.

She hadn’t had to commute during August when their picturesque seaside village had been full of holidaymakers. Now term had started she enjoyed the short drive through the tree-lined lanes. If she moved away she’d miss seeing them colour in autumn, stark over winter and the first flush of green in spring.

He’s a bully, Steff, you’d be better off without him.

“He’s not a bully, he’s…”

Ashley’s phone rang. “Sorry,” she said and answered it. “Sorry,” she repeated, raising her eyebrows. “I have to go.”

She’d previously explained she might need to dash off, as her sister was expecting her second baby any day.

“Give her my best and let me know when I can see the little one.”

“I will, but I’ll be watching to make sure you don’t pinch it!”

Steff laughed. Her love of children was no secret and she knew her friend was joking. Thirty-year-old Steff wasn’t ready for motherhood, wasn’t even sure she ever would be. Ashley knew that, but many others assumed that was what she wanted. Tyler did, and she was sure that maternity leave had often been at the back of people’s minds during job interviews.

As Steff drove home she thought about what she’d have said, had Ashley’s sister not called. Tyler wasn’t a bully – he wasn’t aggressive, didn’t make jokes at her expense or criticise her in front of others. He was just more decisive than her. She’d been content in her cute mid-terrace cottage, so had not given any thought to where else she might want to live.

Tyler knew. He wanted somewhere with more than one bedroom, a bathroom large enough for an actual bath, a garage or driveway so he didn’t have to park in the road, a living room with a straight wall to hang a flat screen TV and enough space to invite his mates round to watch the match. As he’d pointed out, somewhere like that in Little Mallow was well beyond their means. They’d have to live in one of the nearby towns. As Steff would have a fairly long drive whichever they chose, it made sense to live near where he worked. And where his mates and family lived.

Anyway, she could always switch to a different school, couldn’t she?

“What you got there?” Tyler asked when he came in.

“Conkers. I’m teaching the children about games. I was going to collect enough for the whole class, but decided it would be more fun for them to collect their own. I’m going to ask the head if I can take them on a field trip.”

“Don’t bother,” Tyler responded.

“Why not?”

“You won’t be able to let the kids play conkers. It’s been banned due to all this health and safety woke rubbish.”

She didn’t bother telling him that wokeness and health and safety were very different things and neither were rubbish. Tyler got a bee in his bonnet when he thought “they” were telling him what to do and think.

“Playing conkers hasn’t been banned.” She’d heard some schools had taken that step, but not hers.

Tyler must have realised her source of information might be at least equal to his own because he didn’t argue, just warned her, “Don’t blame me when you get sued ’cause they break their fingers and get stuff in their eyes.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

That wasn’t the kind of game she had in mind for her class.

Steff’s Friday field trip was a great success. As well as gathering plenty of conkers she was able to show them how to identify different types of tree, and through finding seedlings and fallen coloured leaves, introduce them to the life cycle of plants.

Back in the classroom she set the children the task of using their conkers in different games.

“You can add things to the conkers, or decorate them however you like. You might like to include them in games you already play, or ask your family for ideas, or even make up your own.

On Monday we’ll all try the different games. There will be a gold star for anyone who makes a game which other people enjoy playing.

Steff’s idea was to encourage them to use their imaginations and to think of others. She hadn’t ruled out the traditional game, but was hopeful there would be alternatives.

She wasn’t disappointed. Three girls who seemed almost inseparable must have spent the entire weekend painting scores of conkers. Steff couldn’t imagine how they’d managed to get anything to stick to the shiny surface, but they had. Each had a different, brightly coloured, pattern.

Some were spotted or striped, others marbled, or covered with tiny rainbows, flowers or love hearts.

“They’re beautiful!” Steff declared with complete honesty.

“Please, can I have one?” asked another girl in the class.

“You have to win them,” explained Ava, one of their creators. “Miss, can I draw on the floor with chalk?”

“Let’s go outside,” Steff suggested.

Outside Ava drew a large circle on the ground and placed some of the decorated conkers inside. She gave the girl who’d requested one a handful of different conkers. Those too were painted, but each in a single colour.

“You have to throw them, and if you knock one of ours out, then you win it.”

The game, an adaptation of marbles, was such a success that Steff had to draw it to a close long before everyone had tried as many times as they’d have liked.

“Maybe you can play in break time,” she said as she handed out three gold stars. “Has anyone else got a game which is best played outside?”

“We have, Miss!”

Twins Kayla and Kim produced conkers on string. They all had smiley faces put on with glue and glitter. They demonstrated their game which was played just like the traditional version, except that before using their conker to whack their opponent’s, they told a joke. The jokes were awful, but Steff was delighted. Not only had they lessened the aggressive nature of the usual game, they’d made it more entertaining for onlookers.

Jackson challenged the winner. His jokes were so good that Steff awarded him his own gold star when she gave Kayla and Kim theirs.

Jackson’s own game involved hiding a conker under one of three cups, then moving them around and inviting people to guess its location.

Sleight of hand wasn’t one of his skills, but as everyone enjoyed listening to his “patter” as he tried to distract them, and was happy to be deceived, he earned another gold star.

One boy brought in a solitaire board, where the usual counters had been replaced by conkers. Another child had done the same thing with a draughts board. Neither had taken much effort, but the games worked and class members were happy to try them out, so they’d done what was required. Others had gone to more trouble. There were decorated cups for a complicated catching game which no one, even the creator, quite understood, but everyone seemed to enjoy.

Jasmin had brought in a whole box of toys and figures, half of which were dressed in blue and half in red. They were football teams and the conker was the ball. She proceeded to give everyone their own player and instruct them in the rules of the game. Thanks to her, Steff finally understood the offside rule and why penalties were so important. By the time the reds had won seven goals to six, with wheelchair-bound Cash having scored an ecstatic hat trick, Steff thought Jasmin deserved a whole sheet of stars.

“It sounded as though your class were having fun,” the head said at break.

“So much fun, and me too.”

“You achieved your aim then?”

“Yes, I’m sure I did. Most had put a lot of thought into their games and a great deal of time creating them. Others not quite so much.”

“You’d expect that.”

“Absolutely.

What I hadn’t expected was their reactions when playing. To ‘win’ at this task didn’t involve beating anyone else, but in entertaining them.

“The two with draughts and solitaire were good at showing the others how to play,” she continued. “They suggested moves and tried to explain why those might be good choices, but didn’t take over. Jackson’s game wasn’t very good, but he’s such a nice boy that everyone laughed with him and pretended to be surprised they’d won – that could so easily have gone differently. They’re such great kids.”

“They are, and a lot of that is down to you. It’s important for teachers to put knowledge and skills into their pupils and most of those I’ve come across do that pretty well, you included. Where you’re exceptional is in getting the best out of them. Because you believe in their good points, you let those aspects shine through.”

Steff didn’t argue. For one thing she was too embarrassed by the lavish praise to say anything. For another, she did think it was true that she saw the best in people and so helped bring that to the surface. She had with Tyler. She’d seen how good-looking he was, and how charming he could be, and allowed him to dazzle her. She’d seen how confident he was, how assertive, and allowed herself to be swept along by him.

That evening she said, “Tyler, I want to talk to you about what I want. My job, where to live, a family.”

“I know all that, babe.”

“I don’t think you… “ She trailed off as he answered his phone.

As he discussed his team’s chances of winning the next match, Steff’s thoughts drifted back to her chat with Ashley.

Her friend was wrong. Tyler wasn’t a bully – but he didn’t put her first. He wanted them to live somewhere which suited him and hadn’t even considered them staying in the tiny house she loved. He’d just assumed, as many did, that she’d want children and therefore need somewhere bigger. He’d not asked if that was the case. He hadn’t even bothered explaining the rules of football so she could try to enjoy the sport he loved.

Ashley had also been right. Steff should leave Tyler, and she’d tell him her decision – just as soon as he paid her enough attention to listen.

Like conkers, life was a game which could be played with many variations. She couldn’t win it following someone else’s preferences, by having her own ignored. She could only succeed by being the real Steff.