Well, yay for leaving, Betsy. Sod 'em.
Today's thrilling installment of Fay's Adventures In Employment:
So, my flatmate spoke to Evil Boss today. God knows what possessed her - she was complaining to him about something else, but naturally he brought up the subject of contracts.
He explicitly told her that he does not consider himself bound by the contract, claiming that he was never shown it by his secretary. He says that he will pay us for May, but that he has not yet decided about June.
He says that he will charge us money because he has to recruit replacement teachers.
Let's just recap on the whole Not-Breaking-My-Contract thing. And the whole He-Doesn't-Recognise-Our-Written-Contract thing.
According to him, we have "an oral contract" with him, and that oral contract is exactly the same as his "standard" contract, which would prevent us from seeking employment with other schools in this city.
He told my flatmate that she and I are both "good eggs", that he would happily employ us next year, but that he will definitely not be paying us the summer pay or 2 months' salary that we're owed from the start of the year.
He told her that he's more pissed off with me than with her, because I indicated to him at the end of April that I would be renewing my contract, whereas she explicitly said she wouldn't. I then told him 2 1/2 weeks later that I would not. I didn't sign or date the note, I just ticked a fucking box - and I knew at the time that it was unethical to do such a thing when I wasn't sure about it, but I went with the 'cover your ass' option, and I really wish I hadn't.
He still maintains that he can prevent us from getting a work permit with our next employer.
I really, really really need a drink.