today,â my mother said loyally, âand weâre sure a school like this is just what he needs to settle him down a bit.â
Settle down! Hell! I was already more settled than a dining room table. These guysâd take a sunset and colour it grey. By the time they finished with me I was going to be boring!
Chapter Nine
âI canât understand how you and James Kramer can be friends when one of you is dedicated to the good of the school, and the other seems dedicated to destroying it,â Gilligan said, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head with what was meant to be deep concern.
âWhich one of us is which, sir?â I asked, then wished I hadnât as Gilligan lit up like a fireworks display. It was three days after the Swimming Carnival. My career as hero of the House had been short indeed. This particular episode had arisen out of an amusing incident late the night before. Ringworm had decided he wanted to go and get his trumpet which heâd left in the Music Rooms. Iâd generously offered to go with him to show him how to get in. When we got there Ringworm was full of initiative.
âHereâs the light, I think,â he said, heading for a big switch by the front door that was clearly marked âFire Alarmâ. I was suddenly seized by a moment of madness. I donât know what came over me, Officer.
âYes, thatâll be it,â I said, backing off fast. God, the noise was unbelievable. I mean, even in daylight a fire alarm sounds loud, but at this time of night it was something else again. Ringworm stood there looking utterly foolish, as though he hadnât realised that there was any connection between his throwing of the switch and the noise that had now taken over the darkness. I turned to flee, took one step and found myself embracing the night watchman. I gave up without a fight.
I was saved â just â by the fact that it had been Ringworm whose hand actually fingered the switch and, luckily, he didnât mention the advice Iâd given him. He still seemed dazed by the whole thing. I donât think he ever fully got over it. James Kramer and Punk, in the dorm, backed me up by insisting that our trip out of the House was for an innocent purpose, although we were outside after Lights Out. James even said that he was going to go but Iâd gone instead, because my slippers were in better condition and my torch still had batteries that worked. All of which had some truth in it, and the circumstantial details sure impressed Gilligan. So all in all I came out of it with no damage that a good vet couldnât have fixed. Maybe they realised that Ringworm was a couple of strawberries short of a fruit salad.
I must have been dangerously high after getting off so lightly. I bounced into Maths and, seeing Dr Collins with his back to me, and feeling unnaturally friendly, I came up behind him and put my hands over his eyes.
âGuess who this is?â I said. Like I say, I donât normally clown around with this kind of stuff, but this time I did. Without a moment of hesitation he answered, âI donât know but I can tell itâs a smoker.â
You just canât win with these guys! I hadnât had a cigarette in three days, and neither had Melanie. It was no great problem. For one thing, we both needed to keep out of trouble for a while. Melanie had invited me to her place for the weekend. I was keen to go, and Gilligan had grudgingly given his permission. We had it all figured out â spread our last detention between Saturday morning and Sunday evening, go to the CCS meet Saturday afternoon â (it was at Pelham College, near where Mel lived) â then weâd have about twenty-four hours to ourselves. It was a cool prospect and it was actually quite decent of Gilligan to agree to our radical arrangements for the detentions. So after the little matter of the fire alarm I trod the straight and narrow as
Settle down! Hell! I was already more settled than a dining room table. These guysâd take a sunset and colour it grey. By the time they finished with me I was going to be boring!
Chapter Nine
âI canât understand how you and James Kramer can be friends when one of you is dedicated to the good of the school, and the other seems dedicated to destroying it,â Gilligan said, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head with what was meant to be deep concern.
âWhich one of us is which, sir?â I asked, then wished I hadnât as Gilligan lit up like a fireworks display. It was three days after the Swimming Carnival. My career as hero of the House had been short indeed. This particular episode had arisen out of an amusing incident late the night before. Ringworm had decided he wanted to go and get his trumpet which heâd left in the Music Rooms. Iâd generously offered to go with him to show him how to get in. When we got there Ringworm was full of initiative.
âHereâs the light, I think,â he said, heading for a big switch by the front door that was clearly marked âFire Alarmâ. I was suddenly seized by a moment of madness. I donât know what came over me, Officer.
âYes, thatâll be it,â I said, backing off fast. God, the noise was unbelievable. I mean, even in daylight a fire alarm sounds loud, but at this time of night it was something else again. Ringworm stood there looking utterly foolish, as though he hadnât realised that there was any connection between his throwing of the switch and the noise that had now taken over the darkness. I turned to flee, took one step and found myself embracing the night watchman. I gave up without a fight.
I was saved â just â by the fact that it had been Ringworm whose hand actually fingered the switch and, luckily, he didnât mention the advice Iâd given him. He still seemed dazed by the whole thing. I donât think he ever fully got over it. James Kramer and Punk, in the dorm, backed me up by insisting that our trip out of the House was for an innocent purpose, although we were outside after Lights Out. James even said that he was going to go but Iâd gone instead, because my slippers were in better condition and my torch still had batteries that worked. All of which had some truth in it, and the circumstantial details sure impressed Gilligan. So all in all I came out of it with no damage that a good vet couldnât have fixed. Maybe they realised that Ringworm was a couple of strawberries short of a fruit salad.
I must have been dangerously high after getting off so lightly. I bounced into Maths and, seeing Dr Collins with his back to me, and feeling unnaturally friendly, I came up behind him and put my hands over his eyes.
âGuess who this is?â I said. Like I say, I donât normally clown around with this kind of stuff, but this time I did. Without a moment of hesitation he answered, âI donât know but I can tell itâs a smoker.â
You just canât win with these guys! I hadnât had a cigarette in three days, and neither had Melanie. It was no great problem. For one thing, we both needed to keep out of trouble for a while. Melanie had invited me to her place for the weekend. I was keen to go, and Gilligan had grudgingly given his permission. We had it all figured out â spread our last detention between Saturday morning and Sunday evening, go to the CCS meet Saturday afternoon â (it was at Pelham College, near where Mel lived) â then weâd have about twenty-four hours to ourselves. It was a cool prospect and it was actually quite decent of Gilligan to agree to our radical arrangements for the detentions. So after the little matter of the fire alarm I trod the straight and narrow as
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