At one time, heads saw grooming ambitious deputies for headship as a key aspect of their role. Local education authorities, too, although mainly having no consistent succession procedures in place, would promote the development of deputies with headship potential.

The result of both these initiatives - admittedly informal and variable ones - was to give the ambitious deputy real insight into the head’s role. It also put the deputy’s name on the local “possibles” list and might result in an occasional interview if only “for the experience”.

Carol, however, has a head nearing retirement and reluctant to rock the boat. His support extends only as far as saying: “You’ll be all right. I’ll make sure you get a good reference.” Her fellow deputy is also close to retirement.

When she suggested, a year ago, some redistribution of roles in the senior team, the head demurred, on the grounds of not wanting to upset the “first deputy”. He also says she can attend the occasional governors’ meeting “if she thinks it’ll be of any interest” but maintains that “they” won’t let her get more involved.

Carol’s frustration with this unhelpful attitude is beginning to affect her work. She is also conscious of time slipping away.

Her situation may not be wholly typical because of the personalities involved, but there is little doubt that schools’ new introspective self-centredness can create this type of blockage. Governors need more persuading than previously to spend their money developing someone else’s future head, and hard-pressed heads have less incentive to assist their fledglings out of the nest. LEAs, too, must act with more circumspection in their new arms-length relationship with schools.

So what should Carol do? First, perhaps, she needs to be clear about the problem. Is she wanting experiences which will prepare her for headship or is her real need help to write an effective application?

The most likely source of help with applications will be a trusted phase adviser or LEA officer who gets involved in headship appointments and will be able to compare her current application letter with successful ones. A frequent failing, for instance, is the letter full of “what I’ve done” with little about “what I think or believe in”.

If experience is what Carol needs and the real thing is not available in her school, simulation may be the next best thing. This might mean attending the kind of “preparing for headship” course run by the professional associations and other organisations. Not only will this provide insight into the role, it will usually have opportunities for testing, in a structured way, her skills and qualities against the demands of the job. Another possibility is the headteacher assessment programme of the National Educational Assessment Centre.

Either way, she should start to develop a network of like-minded people from around the country who, although possibly competing for the same jobs, will have more in common with her than anybody else. Empathetic phone calls and the knowledge that others are sharing her hopes and stresses can be very comforting when the invitation to interview fails to appear or the job goes to someone else.

Ultimately, though, she must tackle her own head. Get him to see that a frustrated deputy is no good to his school; that she can take over some of his problems without undermining him; that wanting to move and being able to do the present job well are not mutually exclusive.

She could even try flattery: tell him that helping her achieve headship would be a fine way to end his own career. One thing she mustn’t do is wait for him to go and hope to take over. Most governing bodies are looking for change and are not reliable promoters of their own staff.

Another thing she mustn’t do is give up. Most heads wrote a lot of letters and attended numerous interviews before getting appointed. It’s part of the initiation.

Mike Fielding is principal of the Community College, Chulmleigh, Devon.