Scholarship

by Ian John Copeland

  Chapter 5 - Lent Term 1968

  The first lesson of the term was English with Mr Barnes, a gentle return to the daily grind of learning. Lower down the school Mr Barnes spent a lot of time reading to the younger boys, who were always enraptured by his ability to put on a wide range of different voices, but with the Sixth Form boys Mr Barnes took far more interest in the subject as he could now have real conversations with the boys on literature.

  Over the holidays they were supposed to have read Coral Island and Lord of the Flies. Mr Barnes glanced around the room. Judging from the reaction of some of the boys to the lesson, it was apparent that some had only very briefly skimmed through the two books. Pip, he was glad to note, had read both books cover to cover and seemed especially enthralled with the idea of being a castaway, something that suited his romantic dreamy side.

  “So what do we make of the two books? Are they connected in any way?”

  Clancy was first to speak, his right as the brightest boy in the Sixth Form.

  “They are both about boy castaways, sir, and their struggle for survival.”

  Hardly the most observant finding, but at least it was a start. Mr Barnes looked to Pip, who clearly had something to say, even though he had not yet volunteered.

  “Well, Pip?”

  “The two main characters in Lord of the Flies, Ralph and Jack have the same names as the two boys in Coral Island. I am sure that is not a coincidence.”

  “Most probably not. Why do you think that is?”

  “Writer’s conceit, sir, to lull the unwary into a false sense of security that the Lord of the Flies is just another adventure story.”

  “And isn’t it just another adventure story, Pip?”

  “In one way yes, but in another it is more about good and evil and how quickly the boys become savages. That shows up in the end; the bit when the other boys kill Simon and Piggy. By the end all, including Ralph, have become savages.” There were a couple of gasps in the room; some boys clearly had not yet finished reading the book. “That was like the death of civilisation or reason. Although I think the author may have got it wrong in one way.”

  “Oh really, what might he have got wrong, Pip?” Mr Barnes was intrigued; Pip clearly had been doing some thinking.

  “Well, I think perhaps Jack was right when he concentrates on getting food, when he says ‘we need meat’ perhaps that was the right thing to do at the beginning rather than to look for rescue.”

  “So really what you are saying is that Jack’s priorities are the more immediate ones whereas Ralph was more interested in the longer term, civilisation?”

  “Precisely, sir, it’s not as black and white or good and bad, merely a difference in priority. Jack understood that the immediate priorities were food perhaps, and having strong leadership. Ralph wanted civilisation more than anything, even at the risk of not having enough food to meet the immediate needs.”

  Mr Barnes surveyed the class, their usual early term torpor already cleared.

  “Interesting, any others see that?”

  “It was the choir that became savages, sir.”

  Peter’s comment caused much amusement.

  “Well that should come as no surprise to anyone should it, Peter? After all, that probably applies at this school as much as anywhere else. Beware boys with angelic voices.”

  Mr Barnes looked meaningfully at Pip. He was no longer a choirboy. Pip’s reputation was somewhat sullied since last term.

  The English lesson soon passed, but double maths with Mr Durrant went more slowly, unless you were Clancy, who seemed to enjoy maths as if it were a giant puzzle with clues to solve. For Pip maths was a series of disconnected events with no central purpose other than the setting of exams even though he could walk through most of maths; it just didn’t interest him very much.

  The final lesson that morning was art. In the Sixth Form Pip was dismayed to find he was down to just one art lesson a week. Still Mrs Prince persevered with the boys and encouraged those, like Pip and Peter, who showed any real talent. That term, their work was to be figurative. Pip found himself concentrating hard on a large blank piece of paper and then slowly let a swirl of looping lines travel across the sheet, some intersecting, some flying over and under each other, like a complex road map, yet that was not what it was. Pip was not entirely sure, but he imagined veins and arteries. It was enough to satisfy Mrs Prince, who would collect several of Pip’s drawings for the art show on sports day at the end of the school year.

  Now that the term proper had started, the seating at lunch was strictly by class so Pip sat with his fellow Sixth Formers. Every so often, when not engaged in a conversation about Lord of the Flies Pip looked two tables over to where the new boy Sacha was sitting deep in conversation with Mr Durrant, Jonathan alongside him. Pip found himself jealous of Jonathan. He did lessons with Sacha and shared a dormitory with him, all for an accident of birth. Three weeks later and Pip might have been in the same form.

  After lunch was the reading period. As a member of the Sixth Form, Pip was allowed to read in the Sixth Form common room, a privilege that he took full advantage of. Pip was a keen reader; he could easily lose himself in a good book. Over the years he had moved on from Dr Doolittle, Biggles and Tintin. Pip was working his way through the Swallows and Amazons series and was currently enthralled with Peter Duck, despite the presence of girls in the story.

  The afternoon of the first full day of the term saw most of the Fifth and Sixth Formers grouped together on the senior pitches where the major matches were played. Thirty odd boys were milling about before being divided into two scratch teams seemingly at random to play a game of rugby. As it was the beginning of term, the boys were comparatively smart in their school regulation games kit of black shorts and olive green and purple harlequin shirt accompanied by purple socks. Underneath was the second ‘away’ shirt, all white apart from a purple collar and green cuffs.

  In the space of this games session Mr Wallace and Mr Durrant hoped to choose the First XV for rugby. The school had a small number of fixtures with neighbouring schools in Cornwall and Devon, which meant finding a respectable team to field. On occasions, they even fielded a Second XV, but this was quite a challenge with a good number of Fifth Form boys making up the numbers. In the initial selection process, Pip found himself playing as a lock in a team opposite the Johnson twins, Peter Morgan, Jonathan and Sacha. Peter and the Johnson twins were bound to be the core of the First XV, fast and with sufficient mass to break through any opposing team. But it was another selection that interested Pip. Both Jonathan and Sacha were placed on opposing wings. As Jonathan was left footed he was on the left and Sacha on the right. It quickly became apparent why these two were on the wings; both boys were small and nimble, fast on the ball and able to catch on the run. Sacha seemed to enjoy throwing himself into the fray with great enthusiasm and not a little recklessness, his spotless new games kit soon covered in mud. Mr Wallace was soon taking note of a possible team player.

  Pip himself settled for the second row of the scrum, not heavy enough to be in the front row and no longer small and nimble enough to be out on the wing. Rugby rarely made use of Pip’s pace in an open field.

  The game was very uneven. Pip’s team was being flattened and never seemed to have possession. Not long into the game Pip realised that he was playing against the first choice team and had not made his way into it in the initial selection process. Normally that would not have bothered him, as he disliked the physicality of rugger, having twisted his neck badly in a collapsing scrum last year. However, the thought of not being in the First XV when it looked likely that Sacha and Jonathan were going to play in the team gave Pip a new lease of energy and enthusiasm. Twice towards the end of the game Pip found himself with the ball running clear. He used his pace to outdistance most of the other players in an attempt to score. On the first run Pip scored much to his team’s delight. Spurred on by this success, five minute
s later, Pip made another run forward with the ball. He was almost clear through when suddenly Sacha chased him down from the wing and tackled him hard. With his weight behind him, the younger boy leapt, with both hands enclosing Pip’s thighs, locking them together and forcing him into a fall that made Pip crash into the damp Cornish mud.

  “Oi!”

  Pip turned over rapidly to see his attacker squatting on his haunches, hands between his knees, much like an ape would stand, a broad smile on his face.

  “Oh sorry!”

  Sacha jumped to his feet, still broadly grinning before extending a hand. For a precious moment Pip was tempted to push one of his feet out, trip Sacha and pull the younger boy down into the mud and wipe the grin off his dirt-splattered face to show the younger boy who was boss. However, this thought passed in a fraction of a second and another more generous response emerged from Pip as he took the proffered hand and let the younger boy pull him up, his hand holding Sacha’s grasp a fraction longer than strictly necessary.

  “That was a good tackle. Where did you learn to play that?”

  “We played Sevens at school in Hong Kong; I am good at tackles.” Sacha smiled, he didn’t do it often, but when he did, his whole face lit up.

  Although Pip’s efforts were not rewarded with a try second time around, it was clear Mr Wallace was suitably impressed with both his new right wing and the sudden surge of enthusiasm from the normally unenthusiastic Pip. Mr Wallace decided to add Pip’s name to the list. It was not going to be a particularly good team this year, but Pip would at least make up the numbers in the scrum with his powerful legs and with his pace he might score the odd try on break-out from a scrum.

  As the week progressed, Pip began to look forward to the afternoon games sessions, mostly because it was the one time he could legitimately mix with Sacha as they both now played in the First Game for rugby on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. However, for cross-country on Wednesdays, the Fifth Form boys were in separate games as cross-country was done by year.