past the astonished male receptionist, she stomped her way down the echoing corridor until arriving outside the headmaster’s office, whereupon she did a wonderful impression of Arnold Schwarzenegger (who hadn’t been heard of yet) by kicking the door open. The headmaster, who had been quietly studying some papers, stood up as if a bomb had been placed under his backside. Barker had never seen such a small woman make such a big entrance!
By this time, I was in a state of nervous shock, but Mam proceeded with her mission which I was convinced would end with even more retribution being meted out upon me. All Icould think of was that this man Barker was ten times as big as the prefect and probably had a strong right hand to match. Now, as his tiny visitor, trailing an even tinier boy, moved up to his desk, he calmly and politely greeted her with, ‘Yes, Madam, how may I help you?’
‘Are you aware of the fact that my son is allowed to be publicly beaten by another boy?’ she bellowed.
‘Well, Madam, you see, I have only recently joined the school. There are certain traditions here and although they have been here for over 100 years, I don’t entirely agree with them either, but they take time to change.’ I was flabbergasted at his apparent acceptance of Mam’s position and listened as he continued. ‘However, I’m sorry but your son has to be punished.’
My heart sank again as vastly exaggerated pictures of his ability with a cane flashed through my terrified mind. I stood incredulous, as Mam not only proceeded to agree, but suggested the worst thing my small boy’s mind could have imagined. ‘You can punish him, but the other boys must not touch him.’
The words didn’t reach my lips, but my face must have read like a book. ‘Mother! This is a stupid decision; he’s bigger than the prefect! This guy has just come out of the Army, just look at his muscles!’
As I started to shake, Barker turned to me and looked me straight in the eye. ‘Daniels, you must be punished. You will write me an essay on what is wrong with this school.’
Shock, astonishment and relief must have been written across my forehead in the beads of sweat that had begun to drip on to my collar. I wrote my essay and over the next two years everything that I had suggested was changed. Discipline and respect, including touching your hat as a Master walked past, I felt should remain, but many of the other ‘traditions’ should not. I had discovered that standing firm for fairness eventually brought its just rewards.
CHAPTER 3
A N A MAZING D ISCOVERY
A s 1953 approached, Europe quietly celebrated the demise of one of its most infamous dictators, Stalin. As well as the Russian leader, country singer Hank Williams, composer Sergei Prokofiev and poet Dylan Thomas also died. Even as 1953 was a year of death, it also heralded the key to life as two scientists at Cambridge University unlocked the mystery of DNA.
My days were filled with catching buses to and from school, reading magic books and struggling with homework that would have been easy if I hadn’t spent so much time on magic.
I tried to avoid sports as much as possible and looked like the skinniest white wimp of all time, well, at least to me. One of my worst fears was of going to the swimming baths. I couldn’t swim. Some people can’t and some people have negative buoyancy. I have it, my dad had it and my brother Trevor has it. We could sit on the bottom of the pool with lungs full of air with no problem at all, as long as we could stand up when we ran out of air. Dad should have been able to swim – he had six toes on one foot and they were webbed. Really.
Anyway, not being able to swim was a real pain. One day, in one of those small advertisements that you get in the Sunday papers (Are they still there? I haven’t taken a newspaper in years. I’ve read so many lies about me I can’t believe what they write about anybody any more. Shame, isn’t it?) I saw an
By this time, I was in a state of nervous shock, but Mam proceeded with her mission which I was convinced would end with even more retribution being meted out upon me. All Icould think of was that this man Barker was ten times as big as the prefect and probably had a strong right hand to match. Now, as his tiny visitor, trailing an even tinier boy, moved up to his desk, he calmly and politely greeted her with, ‘Yes, Madam, how may I help you?’
‘Are you aware of the fact that my son is allowed to be publicly beaten by another boy?’ she bellowed.
‘Well, Madam, you see, I have only recently joined the school. There are certain traditions here and although they have been here for over 100 years, I don’t entirely agree with them either, but they take time to change.’ I was flabbergasted at his apparent acceptance of Mam’s position and listened as he continued. ‘However, I’m sorry but your son has to be punished.’
My heart sank again as vastly exaggerated pictures of his ability with a cane flashed through my terrified mind. I stood incredulous, as Mam not only proceeded to agree, but suggested the worst thing my small boy’s mind could have imagined. ‘You can punish him, but the other boys must not touch him.’
The words didn’t reach my lips, but my face must have read like a book. ‘Mother! This is a stupid decision; he’s bigger than the prefect! This guy has just come out of the Army, just look at his muscles!’
As I started to shake, Barker turned to me and looked me straight in the eye. ‘Daniels, you must be punished. You will write me an essay on what is wrong with this school.’
Shock, astonishment and relief must have been written across my forehead in the beads of sweat that had begun to drip on to my collar. I wrote my essay and over the next two years everything that I had suggested was changed. Discipline and respect, including touching your hat as a Master walked past, I felt should remain, but many of the other ‘traditions’ should not. I had discovered that standing firm for fairness eventually brought its just rewards.
CHAPTER 3
A N A MAZING D ISCOVERY
A s 1953 approached, Europe quietly celebrated the demise of one of its most infamous dictators, Stalin. As well as the Russian leader, country singer Hank Williams, composer Sergei Prokofiev and poet Dylan Thomas also died. Even as 1953 was a year of death, it also heralded the key to life as two scientists at Cambridge University unlocked the mystery of DNA.
My days were filled with catching buses to and from school, reading magic books and struggling with homework that would have been easy if I hadn’t spent so much time on magic.
I tried to avoid sports as much as possible and looked like the skinniest white wimp of all time, well, at least to me. One of my worst fears was of going to the swimming baths. I couldn’t swim. Some people can’t and some people have negative buoyancy. I have it, my dad had it and my brother Trevor has it. We could sit on the bottom of the pool with lungs full of air with no problem at all, as long as we could stand up when we ran out of air. Dad should have been able to swim – he had six toes on one foot and they were webbed. Really.
Anyway, not being able to swim was a real pain. One day, in one of those small advertisements that you get in the Sunday papers (Are they still there? I haven’t taken a newspaper in years. I’ve read so many lies about me I can’t believe what they write about anybody any more. Shame, isn’t it?) I saw an
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