Last Day of Term!

The last day of term was here at last, six weeks of summer holiday.The school bell sounded like an angry fire engine and seemed to irritate the morning sun. Uniformed legs picked up pace, some tripped in white socks and made us stare.
The school was old and so were the teachers. Mr Bush was 36 and wore a beard to match the hedges that grew around the playground. There was one teacher, Miss Sharp, who taught Gym. She was 26 but only looked about 19, she was cool.
The school entrance had a bottle in the neck, as usual, and elbows niggled and felt like needles. The corridors were heaving with runners, screamers, bumpers sleepers. The bully looked happy, the wimps did not. The smell of polished oak and beach still made me feel sick. Better than a stink bomb, I thought.
I caught sight of the twins, Frost, who looked fathers apart; the smaller by ten minutes always seemed to follow. They were the same age as me, one year from schools leaving. The elder, and bigger by far, Frost, stops in front of me.
“Paul, Paul, you must come with us.” He says, with mischief dancing through his eyes
while the dart up and down.
Why? Where? I enthuse, catching the excitement in younger frosts eyes.
“We’re heading for truancy, away from this mad house. We’ll take the bus, back into town, then on another we'll go, for twelve stops out. Up on the moor and down to the woods behind our house, we’ll make a swing to cross the river. It’s a red hot day and detention and the cane can wait six weeks. Come with us now, you can have first go on the swing.”
I was sold and turned to leave with them, but then I caught her eye. She smiled. The one with the long blond hair and that I fancied more each year. This year I was in love, my first lesson.
“Sorry big frost, I’ve got history with you know who, first lesson. I may not see her for six weeks.” The thought worried me as I fought my way through the masses. I saw her disappear into the classroom in a huddle of giggles with her mates. I fought harder so I could get a seat where I could see, or maybe even touch her!
Mr Higginbottom’s breath stunk of garlic kippers and had done since the first year. I think he lost interest in me at about the same time I did him, I was normally marked absent. He usually had something derogatory to say, on the occasions when I did turn up, but my new found enthusiasm seemed to of him left speechless, (Thank god). I tried to look casually bored but almost dived into the seat across from her side.
Half way through the sighing lesson I was sat there with glee hidden in a tingle between clenched thighs. I rested my head to one side and pretended to write with my pen. I was gazing at her out of the corner of one eye, whilst Higginbottom’s voice droned a steady ‘hum’ of repetition, in the distance.
She looks.
I look.
She smiles.
I burn, and turn away. I berate myself with clenched teeth and check to see if anyone’s looking. Ten minutes later I decided a note was called for and was busy scribbling, words that only she could see.
“Harris……HARRIS!!!” A wooden board rubber bounced off my desk and covering me in chalk dust, flew past and managed to remove some plaster from the wall behind me.
“I ASKD YOU A QUESTION LAD!”
The brunt of everyone’s laughter landed in my seat.
“I ASK! ‘AGAIN’ WHICH KING WAS NICKNAMED LONGSHANKS?”
The sniggering made me feel sick, my silence made me feel thick.
“Umm….. Henry… Sir” I guess, badly. Laughter erupts from a few.
“HENRY, MY ARSE LADDY, GET OUT OF THE CLASSROOM SO THAT I DON’T HAVE TO WASTE ANY MORE OF MY TIME WITH YOU………. .GO AND KEEP THE WALL COMPANY, SEE WHO FALLS ASLEEP FIRST?” His out take of breath seemed to dampen the sniggers.
“QUIET, YOU LOT”. He boomed, with veins like hose pipes in his neck.
During ‘kipper breath’s’ rant, I managed to conceal my note with a tight grip. I shrank into the collar of my black blazer and blazed towards the door.
“HARRIS”! Fired like a cannon, from the narrow eyed, but not so speechless, history fiend, stunned me and I stopped mid stride. Holding out a flat claw, he nodded with his skeletal sockets.
“BEFORE YOU LEAVE, LET ME SHARE WITH THE CLASS, YOUR MEANINGFUL CONTRIBUTION TO TODAYS HISTORY LESSON. GIVE ME THE NOTE…LADDY!”
I clenched my fist tight around the burning piece of paper, with white knuckles. I froze to the disinfected floor. Eyes burned my cheeks into an embarrassingly deep purple. I turned, in desperation with anger mounting a strong challenge. For just a splitting second, I caught what looked like a wicked grin, twitching at ‘Kipper’s’ top lip.
“NOW… LADDY! GIVE.” He fumed. with garlic now smothering the kippers.
The classroom creaked in the tense morning sun. I could almost feel my class mates struggling to contain their excitement; they shuffled around in nervous anticipation.
No way out…..No time…No chance…..Panic rattled me, the shame of sharing my note would be the end of days……Shit! ‘Kipper breath’ started, in a slow stealth like movement towards me……No option!
I shoved the note into my mouth and chewed like a ravenous hound. The room exploded into laughter, squeals and shouts, banging desks in rebellious chants.
“HARRIIIIIISS!!!” He hissed, from his smoke kippered tongue, his words fizzled in a foul stench, and steam blew from his big red ears. I tried to keep my note down and gulped like mad with watery eyes. I sent my secret message on a journey of discovery. Kipper was sweating with rage, garlic ran down his forehead. He sprang and caught me in a pinch of temple hair. He dragged me, shirt tail flapping, through the welcoming door. Raging and screeching we went down the long well polished corridor, he threatening all but the life of me. Down to Mr Tailor, the head, the master of canes, he kept six inside a case and I knew that today I was good for one, two, or more.
I was made to wait outside his door while Kipper went in to demonstrate his loathing of me, and embellish my unacceptable behaviour. It was a familiar spot for I, who had sampled all of Mr Taylor’s collection over the past year. I resigned myself to the inevitable thrashing and gazed out of the little Georgian window.
I wondered if the twins had got their bus back into town or were they on the other one, for twelve stops out…Big frost would be first on the swing and younger would get one go in three, and if it wasn’t for her it could have been me....If only….If only.
Mr Taylor was a stern looking head, a true master with the cane who always seemed pleased to see me. He was a quiet man who seldom spoke outside his office. I still could not hate him, but I tried. I must have stood for 10 minutes or more until kippers breath was seeping under the door. I was summoned to enter my plea.
I stood in front of Mr Taylor’s large oak desk, on which was draped his large black gown and silly hat. He sat before me with his grey head cradled in his worn out hands, scowling up at me. I thought it a little strange that the Kipper was still here, perched at my shoulder breathing a controlled stench on my blazer. Normally canings were a private affair, unless I was with my mate Moley. He liked to cane us together, we couldn’t help but giggle at each other in our flogging and Mr Taylor seemed to like it.
“AAhhaaaa… Harris.” He sat back and folded his arms. The brightness in his voice was dimmed by underlying darkness in its meaning. In one swift movement he was out of the leather chair and stood by the glass, wall mounted, caning cabinet. I craned my neck round to see him trailing a finger across the glass door, I was trying to see which one it would be, when he spun round and caught my stare. He was back in his seat in another flash.
“There will be no caning for you today, my boy. In fact there will be No more canings for you, ever…..Not by me anyway…Although I did give it some considerable consideration…..Sort of a farewell gesture if you like. However I feel it would keep Mr Higginbottom from his lessons. Your behaviour has, and is, unacceptable at this school; you fall well short of the standards Boy….
Consider yourself expelled as from this moment. A letter will be sent out to your parents, I will be only too pleased to explain in great detail my decision and the reasons behind it. Including among others the incident surrounding Mr Barber’s marijuana plants, and on-going suspension. Luckily for you Dr Lami’s burns are not as serious as first appeared and he will hopefully, begin to reintroduce Bunsen burners back into his lessons next term, accident or not, negligence will not be tolerated…..Now gather your things and get out of this school…Mr Higginbottom will escort you to the gate.
Thankfully the breeze was in my face and Kipper was three paces behind me. We reached the gate in silence, he closed it behind me. I turned and we stared at each others loathing.
“GOOD RIDDANCE!” He growled, then he hid behind clenched teeth.
“How true” I conceded, the only time we ever agreed.
I walked up the hill with not a hard done by care. I counted my dinner money; just enough to catch up with the twins, maybe get first go on the swing. At the top of the hill I turned and looked back on the school, back to my past and that love with the long blond hair. I thought back to the playground, on our first encounter. The game was we had to eat a liquorice boot-lace from opposite ends and meet in the middle….something like that. I remember chewing for life and death, one at each end both eating towards a kiss goodbye when they meet. Everyone would giggle, but the thrill was worth it. I could feel the little secret swimming round my stomach, I felt a little sick so turned my back for the last and ran to catch the bus, my turn on the swing. School was definitely out and the holidays had just begun. Love could wait!
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