I wanted to ask
Lindsay out, but there was always someone else around. The potency of Cupid’s
arrow deranged me enough to contemplate approaching her anyway, but I thought
better of it. Apart from not having the funds it wouldn’t be fair to put her on
the spot in front of others, not if she was pretending not to notice me.
I’ll take her to the pictures; that’s what I’ll do, everybody goes to the pictures. I’ll have to save up first though. With all that goes with it a trip to the pictures will set me back a quid, at least. I’ll just have to be patient.
NELSON AND GILLINGHAM
Eh? What’s this about?
The title Jennifer Sanders had
chosen for her English project puzzled me, until I saw how she’d used photos of road nameplates at
Our teacher had some news
for us. ‘I’ve arranged a school trip to see an open air production of The
Merchant of Venice, in
Shit
Hearing the trip was non-uniform softened the blow. The only problem was I owned nothing my mam hadn’t bought. Buying some decent clobber wasn’t beyond my means but it meant dipping into the Lindsay fund. Never mind, I’d need some decent gear anyway, if I was going to ask her out.
In Maths… on a scorching hot afternoon the heat in Mister Rye’s classroom was
stifling. With the sun blazing through huge windows at the back of the
classroom, the usual suspects on the back row were getting roasted.
Their sufferance was no
concern to Shelley Jordan. There was no sunlight at the front of the
room, where she’d taken her exercise book to Cyril, for marking.
Knock! Knock!
Someone had knocked at the door yet
nobody came in. I couldn’t see who it was but from his desk at the top of the
room, Cyril could. A member of staff in need of a quick word, I presumed, when
Cyril rose from his chair and lumbered to the door. As soon as he stepped into the corridor and the door closed
behind him the lads at the back found their voices.
‘Cor, it’s like a bloody oven
in here.’
‘I’m sweating like a pig!’
‘Open the bleeding windows.’
‘Yeah, and drop the blinds.’
Sitting in the corner nearest
to the blind cord, Martin Waterman was under pressure to do the honours but he
was reluctant to leave his chair.
‘What if Cyril comes in?’
‘You’ll be alright, just do it
quick, before he comes back.’
Still uncertain, Martin edged
his chair back just enough to allow him to lean back and pull the cord.
Oh no!
Only one side of the blind dropped. I felt for Martin as he struggled with the cord. He tugged and tugged, but the blind was still half up and half down when Cyril re-entered. The tension in the classroom was horrendous. While the rest of us kept our heads down, Martin sat in terror. Still holding the blind cord, the poor bugger looked like a tethered goat.
Cyril was back at his desk and
about to mark Shelley’s work when he spotted the blinds. A loud guttural noise
rumbled across the classroom.
‘What do you think you’re
doing, boy?’
‘I was just trying to drop the
blinds… it’s hot back here Sir,’ said a trembling Martin.
‘Well stand up and do it
properly.’
Shelley, still waiting for her work to be marked, then made a massive mistake. Standing to
one aside and slightly behind Cyril, she pulled a nur nur nur nur nur type face behind his back. This serious
underestimation of the old growler’s peripheral vision earned her an unexpected
close up of his face and the full blast of his booming voice.
‘And what do you think you’re
doing?’
Shelley almost jumped out of
her skin. Her eyes popped and her sizeable conk looked even bigger when her
chin vanished into her neck. I was already breaking up inside when Cyril
followed up with an observation that threatened to give me internal injuries.
‘And stop looking at me like a
startled parrot!’
Startled parrot! He called her a startled parrot! Ha-ha! Brilliant!
Oh, my insides. I thought I
was going to die, or at least bite through my lip. Startled parrot; a wonderful
description!
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