Finish the video, dismiss the class and head back to your work

There’s no point pressing Abigail. If she wants to talk to someone, she can talk to someone. That someone is unlikely to be you.

“Everyone, pay attention to the video,” you tell the girls. “Silence.” You have to shout that several times before the girls obey. The lure of gossip is strong. Returning to the previous attitude is impossible.

When the video ends you still have fifteen minutes of class, but it’s clear Abigail’s not coming back. Instead, you dismiss the class. They’re all keen to go.

Having seen them gone, you head back to your office. You still have 15 minutes to work on your idea for an assembly.

Your assembly. Yes, you have your idea. St Perpetua.

An obscure saint. One of those early Christian saints, remembered through landmarks and local names. Reason for canonisation long since obscured by the mists of myth.

At the University one of your colleagues had spent years tackling this issue. He had gathered every saint’s name, gleaned from the names of towns, churches, fields, stones and bumps in the ground. He’d catalogued them into a database, through variations of spelling, over geographical distribution and then he cross-referenced with every myth, from local ramblings in the pub to mentions gleaned from hagiographies.

For your final year dissertation you’d worked for him, translating another batch of Latin texts, and as a reward, he’d allowed you to examine his life’s work. One saint you’d investigated was St Perpetua, driven by the memory of the school, of the young girls in their tight uniforms.

St Perpetua was one of the more obscure saints. No hagiography. Few mentions in the more popular saints’ lists. Yet the database did contain a few references, enough to tie a basic story together. St Perpetua, a devout, young lady had saved the predecessor of your home town and its local church from pagan raiders, intent of sacking the church and stealing its gold.

The rest of the story was vague.

For starters, the setting. There were references stating it went back to the 5th or 6th Century, making her Romano-British and the raiders Anglo-Saxons. Others claimed she lived in the 8th or 9th Century, making her Anglo-Saxon and the raiders Vikings.

Some stated she was a nun, and she was accompanied by other nuns from the local nunnery. Others insisted she was the daughter of the local lord and the girls who joined her were other daughters of local magnates.

Most stated she led them willingly. One stated she was sent by her father.

When she faced the raiders, most stories hint that she preached the Word to them and they fell down and immediately converted. Some were more salacious. One stated that the kind of the raiders stripped her in front of his men, and all the men who looked upon her nakedness were instantly blinded by God. Most claim the girls returned to the town unmolested. Others that the raiders married the women, and either settled or returned home.

Whatever did happen, Perpetua was a forgotten saint. The only remembrance of her a small chapel that lasted until it was demolished to make way for the founding of the school, some 150 years ago. And the school had taken her name.

The story of St Perpetua herself is probably not fit for a school assembly, but you know you can use it to talk about local history, and get the girls interested in local affairs. That you believe fits Mrs Oversight’s brief perfectly.