Everyone likes flattery; and when you come to Royalty you should lay it on with a trowel.
Benjamin Disraeli

For school owners, a shovel or even a JCB would be suitable.

Presumably you already know this. How else did you become a DOS? However, in case you ascended to your exalted station through some other means (all the other teachers killed in a most unfortunate accident, you the only sane candidate with a Celta, your abundance of fraudulent qualifications not questioned at interview), here are a few tips.

The Greeting Gush

This is what you do quite spontaneously on catching sight of the owner emerging from her Mercedes. A squawk of pure rapture should burst from your lips.

“Heavens! Mrs Gorgon!” you trill. “What a splendid surprise!”

Flutter your hands and eyelids (as when Mr Humphries in Are You Being Served? spots a customer) and swoop down on her car. Do all sorts of unnecessary fussing: shutting the car door, steering the owner around a dangerous puddle, carrying her diamond-encrusted handbag inside. Keep up a commentary on the weather, her new hairdo (“It’s so you, Mrs G”), the predicted joy of the staff when they see her.

The local staff, on cue, will appear at the school entrance, beaming and curtseying, as the owner glides in, extending a few fingers to be brushed by reverent digits.

If the owner is a man, a minimally butcher approach might be preferable, but do not stint on the fawning.

Any loitering English native speakers should be got rid of fast.

Escort the owner to your office and ease her on to the sofa. Offer all manner of refreshments. (You can always send out for these.) Sit in the armchair opposite. Try to echo her posture.

The Preamble

And I would have our courtier try to act in this manner, even if it is against his nature, in such a way that whenever his prince sees him he believes that the courtier will have something agreeable to say.
Baldassare Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier (1528)

Do not start talking about the various school crises straightaway. First you must make small talk.

Acceptable topics include:

1. Owner’s new hairdo/clothes/accessories. Your own deficiencies in this respect.

   Typical comment: “Oh, Mrs Gorgon, if only I had your figure, I’d kill for a trouser suit like that.”

2. Political situation in the nation’s capital. Warning: school owners are virulently in favour of authoritarian regimes.

   “You know, I often wish we had old General Shutemol back, we all felt so much safer then.”

3. Golf.

   “I hear the new course at Slumclearance Park was designed by Buldoza himself, and it’s frightfully difficult.”

4. Holidays.

   “Will you be getting away to the Bahamas this autumn?”

Once you have covered these topics for ten to fifteen minutes, you can go into the Huddle. Close the office door.

The Huddle

In lowered tones, leaning forward confidentially, raise the topic of the school’s latest crisis (no students, accountant vanished with funds, teachers on strike, teacher on remand for molesting accountant, etc).

Imply that you could not make a decision without drawing on the owner’s wisdom, experience, judiciousness, discernment, sensitivity and so forth.

Obviously your main aim will be to dispel any scintilla of a shred of suspicion that the crisis is in any way your fault. The owner will be looking for someone to blame, so you had better have a candidate lined up. Your predecessor is a good choice for up to twelve months, after which it gets rather difficult. Assistant DOSes and senior teachers are also possible. Do not blame the local admin staff, as they will be far more expert at passing the buck than you. (And they are almost certainly the owner’s relatives.)

Although most school owners are uneducated and dim, they possess a stock of peasant cunning and criminal know-how. They may not know an adjective from an adjutant, but they will soon sniff out an employee who is siphoning off school funds.

You should have an inexpensive answer to the crisis already worked out, but try to make it look as though the owner has thought of it herself. Look stunned by this brilliant solution.

After the Huddle, the owner may decide to inspect the school. You will have to take her to the teachers’ room.

Presenting teachers

Risky. Local teachers will reliably bow and scrape, but what about (say) Americans or Australians?

School owners may not in fact object to their rough ways, in the same way that the proprietor of a zoo may be amused by the sight of her pet gorillas scratching their balls. But it might still be advisable to prime her.

“OK, Mrs Gorgon, let’s go to the teachers’ room, where you’ll meet Nigel and Bruce. Nigel’s British and he’s, er, rather shy. So don’t be surprised if he doesn’t stand up or speak to you or, er, even look round. Bruce is from Australia, so, well, I’m sure you won’t be at all surprised by anything he says. Or does.”

Warn the teachers beforehand that anyone who is not on their best behaviour will be teaching Chatterbox 1 for the rest of their contract.

A few more tips

Do not be afraid to tease the owner (in an obsequious way, of course). They love to think they are not stuffed shirts.

Say things like, “It’s no good flattering you, Mrs Gorgon! You see through everything.” Or, “I know you don’t respect yes men...”

Mention God a lot. This goes down well in most countries.

The Farewell Fawn

Essentially a reversal of the Greeting Gush. The staff turn out once more, you open the car door and hand the owner in, everybody waves tearfully until the Mercedes disappears over the horizon, then you head out for a stiff drink.