Broken-hearted teacher who fell in with wrong kind of pupils

Of all the disturbing questions raised by the Amy Gehring case, one stands out: how did a farmer's daughter with an impeccable background find herself surrounded by allegations of drunken sex sessions with her pupils?

The answer appears to lie in her bizarre desire to get close to her young charges. Indeed, the record shows complaints about alleged inappropriate behaviour with two boys were made a few weeks after she arrived from Canada on a working holiday visa.

And by the time she reached a prosperous town in the Surrey stockbroker belt she had plunged into a teenage world dominated by drink and sex. Yet there was nothing in her background to indicate that she would be forced to clear her name after allegations of sexually targeting 14 and 15-year-olds.

She had glowing references and was unknown to Canadian police. She grew up on her father's farm in Ontario, a country girl described by the supply teacher agency that employed her as a typical "girl next door".

Her friend, Linda Simpson from Norwich District High, reacted with shock when she heard what had happened after school hours in England: "The Gehrings are such a good family and every one of them is nice," she said.

While she was at school Gehring met a boy her own age and fell in love with him. Their relationship continued while she studied biology at the nearby University of Guelph and when she began an eight-month teacher training course at the University of Western Ontario.

She hoped to marry him. Christmas Day 1999 was to have been her big day. She had been going out with her boyfriend for five-and-a-half years and expected him to propose. That morning she was devastated when her boyfriend ended the relationship. He was, she said, the love of her life and she slid into a deep depression. The move to England was seen as a new beginning.

A reference from Norwich District High School principal Sharon Dickson described Gehring as "organised, pleasant, and a team player" who would be a "positive addition to any staff ". By the time she was arrested in February last year, she had worked at five schools in Surrey. Teachers at the school were so impressed they asked her back. What they didn't know was that after classes Gehring was drinking at pubs with pupils and even staying at parents' homes.

"It was hard to make friends here because I had moved all over teaching," she told the police. "I was like really, really lonely." She became involved with an exclusive group called the In-Crowd. They were affluent, attractive and hedonistic. They partied most nights, got riotously drunk and had lots of sex. Their average age was 15. She was 26 - more than 10 years older than most of them - but no one seemed to care.

Most of the pupils she befriended came from well-off families in the Surrey town which, for legal reasons, cannot be named. Their parents work in the new hi-tech businesses that proliferate on London's southern fringe, doing jobs that demand long hours, following routines that often mean their children have the family home to themselves in the evenings.

There was always a venue for a party. They began with trips to off-licences and supermarkets by schoolchildren armed with fake proof-of-age cards.

They stuffed carrier bags with their favourite drinks - Smirnoff Ice, Bacardi Breezers and the inevitable Malibu - and descended on whichever house was been nominated for that night's party.

When the drinks ran out, they headed for the pub. "They are an absolute nightmare," one pub manager said. "We have doormen but on a Friday and Saturday night I will be on the door too, to make sure none of them get in. They try, try and try again to get past us - they just won't give up."

Another pub manager said: "Mostly they are boys, though there are always a few girls with them, and they drink solidly and become a nuisance. You watch them getting drunker and drunker."

At one party Amy Gehring vomited on the hand of one of her teenage friends after consuming 10 drinks. Such a scenario is common, according to the mother. "The ones that aren't being ill are being chatted up by the blokes," she said.

Among some teenage girls a reputation as a "slag" is worn as a badge of honour. At 14 and 15 many of the girls are sexually experienced, although they may not always have a clear recollection of their encounters. When the parties break up, parents in expensive 4x4s and company cars arrive to pick up youngsters who may be in a nearcomatose state.

Drink and sex may be a modern rite of passage for Amy Gehring's Class of 2000, but that fails to explain the motives that drove her to befriend this group so closely. The nearest we get is a snippet from her police interview. Describing her utter, despairing loneliness in England she said: "I got attention - especially from the girls. I really liked it ."