“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” she demanded.
“Well, I didn’t think you’d believe me,” said Mr Carter.
“Why do you think I believe you now?”
Mr Carter shrugged. “I dunno. You’ve seen all the new rules I’ve made. They’re not very old-style Mr Carter-ish, are they? They’re more old-style Ryanish, aren’t they?”
Ryan nodded in agreement. “Yes. I don’t approve of any of them,” he said.
“And also –” said Mr Carter, pointing to Ryan – “he’s here now, agreeing with me. Why would Ryan do that?”
Dionna thought for a moment. “It could be one of his pranks.”
“One of his pranks,” said Ryan wearily, “that he’d got the most anti-prankster head teacher of all time to come in on?”
Now, Mr Carter nodded in agreement.
Dionna shook her head and sat down again, looking at him closely. “I can’t believe it, Ryan. You’re in Mr Carter’s body? Isn’t that weird? What about going to the toi—”
“We’ve agreed not to discuss that,” said Ryan.
“It’s best,” said Mr Carter.
Dionna looked from one to the other. “Are you living in his house?” she said to Ryan. (That is, Mr Carter.)
“Yep.”
“Ordered pizzas on his credit card yet?”
“Fourteen. In one night.”
“Hmm,” she said. “Maybe it is you. But … OK. What’s my mum’s name?”
“Esther.”
“Who’s my favourite singer?”
“Beyoncé.”
“Who’s my best friend?”
Mr Carter paused. Ryan looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
“Well … me. I hope. I mean him,” said Mr Carter, pointing at Ryan.
Dionna nodded. She seemed to be taking her time about what to say next.
And then she said, “But I just heard you say that the school was going to close down. Because of what you’ve done. And that you were proud of that, pleased about it!”
“Well,” said Mr Carter. “Um … yeah.”
“Even though you know that would be really, really upsetting for me because I’d have to go back to Oakcroft!”
“Oh,” said Mr Carter.
He felt a falling in his stomach. He knew this was bad and was about to say, “Thing is, what with all the changing-bodies thing, and the being-head-teacher thing, and the doing-whatever-I-like-with-the-school thing … I kind of forgot about that.” But he didn’t. Mainly because he realised it wouldn’t help much.
“And so you know what?” she said, getting up. “I’m not sure you are Ryan. Or at least, I’m not sure you are my best friend.” She was at the door by now, looking back into the room. “Because my best friend would never, ever do that to me!”
There was a chance at this point, perhaps, for Mr Carter to say, “OK, no, you’re right, I’ll do something to stop that happening.”
But he didn’t say this either. Because he could see Ryan smirking at him and he didn’t want to back down from his former triumph about the school closing. So he just looked at her and shrugged. Like a naughty, told-off little boy.
Which meant that Dionna shook her head, raised her eyebrows and went out, slamming the door.
“Oh dear,” said Ryan, still smirking.
“Sorry, Head Teacher,” said Tina Ward, who was waiting outside the school gates to pick up her son. She had Holly with her in a pushchair.
Mr Carter wasn’t really listening. He was looking around. He was looking, in fact, for Dionna, who had run away just after he’d seen her in the office. He wanted to reassure her that everything would be OK. Although he hadn’t quite worked out how to do that yet. Or indeed whether it would be.
“What?” said Mr Carter distractedly.
“Oh, never mind,” said Tina crossly. She had thought about turning over a new leaf with him, by apologising for Ryan’s behaviour, but now that he’d just ignored her she was convinced that he was not a nice person all over again.
“About what?” said Ryan, appearing at the gates. “What are you talking to him for?”
“No, Yan!” said Holly. Then, looking questioningly at Mr Carter, she added, “Yan?”
“I heard!” said Tina, turning to her son. “I heard you had to go to his office again! I had hoped the new head might have led to a change in you!”
“I see,” said Ryan, nodding. “Well, in a sense, it has … I’m quite the reformed character.”
Tina frowned. Ryan was still clearly playing up, speaking in this posh, grown-up way that he’d been doing for a while now. It was annoying.
“Anyway! Nice to see you, Mum!” said Mr Carter, turning to face her properly. Dionna was nowhere to be seen, so – in a rather typical eleven-year-old-boy way – he just decided not to worry any more about the thing that had been really worrying him.
“I beg your pardon?” said Tina.
And also he’d said Mum. So that was something else to worry about.
“I said … I said …”
“Yes … Mr Carter!” said Ryan fiercely. “What did you say?”
“I said … I said, ‘That’s all right, chum!’”
Tina frowned. “I beg your pardon? Again?”
“It’s a new policy! I consider teacher-parent friendliness very important! So all staff will now make sure they address all parents as ‘mate’, ‘pal’, ‘me old mucker’ or indeed … ‘chum’!” said Mr Carter hurriedly.
Ryan stared at him. Then very slowly shook his head.
“OK,” said Tina. She frowned, but laughed. And added, “Mate!”
“Thanks, buddy!” said Mr Carter. This made her laugh more.
“That’s all right, comrade!” said Tina through her laughter.
“Friend!” said Mr Carter in a squeaky high voice, putting both his thumbs up. “Ooh, friend!”
This made Tina bellow with laughter.
“Hey! Ryan! Mr Carter knows that meme!” she said. “You know, the one that you showed me – from that TV show—”
Luckily for Ryan – who was looking very confused and still shaking his head – this was the moment Holly decided to shout again, pointing at him.
“’No Yan! No Yan!”
“Oh, not again!” said Tina. “It is Ryan, Holly!”
“No Yan! Other! Other!”
“Yes,” said Ryan. “Exactly. The thing is, Ti— Mum, I genuinely believe that the baby might possess some kind of insight here. Did you hear her call me ‘other’? As in, not Ryan.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” said Tina. “You know perfectly well she’s saying ‘brother’. You know she never says words properly.”
“Doesn’t she?” said Ryan. “Hm. It’s never too early to try phonics, I always say.”
Tina just stared at him.
“Yes, well, anyway, my point is I think she may be actually perceiving the truth in a deeper way than you as an adult can comprehend, and—”
“Ryan! Stop talking like that. And go and get in the car!”
“Car? You – I mean, we only live over there!”
“Yes, but we’re not going home. We’re going to see Annie.”
“’Ocolate!” said Holly, trying a different tack.
Tina tutted. “Excuse me a moment,” she said, pushing the chair away a little and crouching down to sort out the baby.
“Who’s Annie?” Ryan asked Mr Carter quietly.
“My great-aunt. Mum’s aunt,” replied Mr Carter.
“Oh super. What’s she like?”
“Nice. But farts a lot. I mean, like, a lot.”
Ryan sighed. “Great. Really. Great.”
“It is kind of funny.”
“Now, you see, Ryan, that is typical of you. I’m sure it’s not her fault if she has stomach issues. And it’s very important to take that kind of issue in old people seriously.”
“OK. I’ve always found the only way to get through it is to laugh about it. She doesn’t seem to mind. But whatevs
.”
Tina came back to them, pushing the pushchair.
“I thought I told you to get in the car!” she said to Ryan. “I’m sorry, Mr Carter, I really don’t know what’s got into him at the moment.”
“I really don’t know either, pardner!” said Mr Carter.
“Friend!” said Tina in a squeaky voice, doing the thumbs-up thing.
Then Mr Carter joined in and together they went, “Ooh, friend! Friend! Teacher friend! Parent friend!”
And it seemed as if they were never going to stop. So Ryan sighed and walked towards the car.
“OMG,” said Tina, “I’m not even joking. But something has happened to that man. Something good.”
“Has it,” said Ryan flatly. They were sitting together on a sofa in Aunt Annie’s living room. Aunt Annie herself, a tiny woman with an enormous behind, had gone to make some tea. The living room looked as if it had last been decorated in 1957. There were a lot of glass cabinets dotted around the place, containing plates and mugs commemorating various events in the life of the British royal family. A very old, very thin-looking cat with no teeth stared at them from the opposite sofa.
“Yes! Just now, I found myself really warming to him. But before … I mean there was that whole business with your funny fainting spell and the hospital, which turned me right against him. And then he seemed so stuffy and strict at the Parents’ Open Afternoon. And of course he was so angry with you about the tortoise thing, which was, let’s face it, quite funny.”
“Was it.”
“Yes. Up with your best.”
“Hm.”
“So … I didn’t take to him at all.”
“Didn’t you,” said Ryan.
“No, he seemed a right—”
“Yes, all right, Tina,” said Ryan. “Can you stop going on about it? You haven’t stopped talking about him all the way here.”
Tina shrugged. “Oh well. All I’m saying is he seems to have loosened up a lot. Which by the way is the opposite of what seems to have happened to you. And I’ve told you – stop calling me Tina!”
“Hello, loves!” said Aunt Annie, coming in with a china teapot and some cups on a tray that had a picture of a steam train on it. “Shall I be mother?”
She set the tray down in front of Tina and Ryan.
“’Ake! ’Ake! ’Ake!”
“She hasn’t made any cake, darling,” said Tina to Holly, who was on her knee, grabbing at the air.
“’Iscuit?”
“Sorry, Annie, have you got any?” asked Tina.
“Benny?” said Annie, looking round as she poured the tea. “He’s dead. This cat’s called Chairman Meow.”
“No, Annie,” said Tina more loudly. “Switch your hearing aid on!”
“John? He died years ago!”
“Your hearing aid!” She pointed at her aunt’s ear, where indeed there was a hearing aid lodged inside. “It’s off!”
“Yes, he had a very bad cough,” she said, handing over a cup to Tina. She settled herself down on the armchair. “That’s what killed him.” BRRRRRAAAPPP!
There was a pause after this for about a split second, before Holly burst out laughing.
“Ha ha ha ha ha! ’Art! ’Art!”
“What are you saying? What are you saying, little one?” said Annie in an old-lady-speaking-to-a-baby voice, bending her face down close to Holly’s and wrinkling her nose. And to be honest, so were Tina and Ryan – and now, indeed the baby – but for different reasons.
“She’s so adorable, isn’t she? The sweetest thing.” FRRALLLLPPPPBssssssshhhh …
“Oh dear,” said Tina, “she’s always worse when she forgets to put the hearing aid on. It’s like she can’t hear that she’s doing it.”
“Can’t she …” said Ryan, “feel that she’s—”
“I don’t think she’s got much feeling … you know … around there.”
Tina said the words around there in a whisper, which Ryan felt was frankly unnecessary.
“Have a cup of tea, Ryan. Three sugars?”
“Er, no, thank you. I take it black, no sugar.”
“Could you hear something then?” said Aunt Annie as she dropped three sugar lumps into Ryan’s milky tea and handed it over. “Like a distant quack. Like someone stood on a duck’s foot?”
“Um …”
PDAR! PDAR!
“’Art! ’Art!”
“What are you saying, little one?”
“’Iscuit?”
“Should we do something?” said Ryan to Tina under his breath while Aunt Annie’s attention was distracted. Aunt Annie had at this point got up from the sofa and was bending over to put her face close to the baby’s. That’s right. Bending over.
“What do you mean?” said Tina.
“Well … call a doctor. I mean, something’s clearly wrong. The responsible thing to do would be to get some medical help.”
Tina frowned at him. “She’s been like this for years! There’s nothing wrong with her. And, y’know, better out than in. It would just upset her to point it out. Anyway, you normally just laugh at it!”
“Well, that’s awful. I shouldn’t have done. I’m a – a changed man!”
“Oh yes, I forgot,” said Tina. “You’re actually your new head teacher!”
“Yes! I am! Isn’t this proof that it’s true? Because I’m not laughing?”
Tina looked at him.
“Crip!”
“Dip? You want a dip? That’s very grown-up. Houmous?” “Yoghurt?” FNNNARRRR! “Taramasalata?” RRITTBAH!
“We’ll see,” said Tina.
Ryan frowned. Did Tina Ward really think that just because – FDAP! NISH! – he, who was really not an eleven-year-old boy – TIFTER! – but a responsible, sensible, serious forty-three-year-old head teacher – DING! – would collapse into laughter just because Aunt Annie had – JAHWOBBLE! – a small – PATOOSH! – well, not so small – FWEE! – problem with her digestion?
“What about the smell?” said Ryan.
“It’s getting worse, I agree,” said Tina.
“No. I mean about her not knowing she’s doing it. Surely even if Aunt Annie is deaf and a little … numb … downstairs … her nose works, doesn’t it?”
Which, to be fair, was a relevant question to ask at this point, as the air in the room – never that fresh, frankly – was turning a little green.
“’Oo! ’Oo! ’Ells of ’oo!”
“What does Holly want? Blue? I’ve got a crayon somewhere— Oh my goodness.” Aunt Annie sat back down on her chair. “What is that smell? Dearie, dearie me. Have you noticed it, Tina? Ryan? Oh, I say, that’s awful.”
Ryan turned to Tina with an I told you so expression. He folded his arms as if to say, Now, please, can we take this seriously?
“You know what this means?” continued Annie, turning to her side. “Chairman! Chairman Meow!”
The ancient cat – quite surprisingly, since one might have assumed him to be deafer even than his owner – looked up, confused.
“Please stop doing that, you smelly cat! I’ve told you before. You have to try to control your flatulence!” “It’s making a terrible smell!” NOOOSH! “And it’s antisocial for everyone here!” “Do you understand?”
“Meow.”
“Good.”
She lifted up the teapot, smiling. “Anyone for more tea?”
And at that point Ryan burst out laughing. He laughed and laughed and laughed in a way that the head teacher inside him for many years had not. He laughed so much, in fact, that he farted.
While Ryan was at Aunt Annie’s, Mr Carter went back to Mr Carter’s flat. He was still troubled about Dionna. He took off the suit jacket and sat on Mr Carter’s not very comfy black leather sofa, wondering what to do. He tried watching TV, but not only was the screen quite tiny – all the series links were for channels called things like “History” and “Geographic” and “Natural”, so there wasn’t anything exciting recorded for him to watch.
Perh
aps I should call Mum, he thought. She would know what’s best.
Then he realised he couldn’t do that. Or, at least, it would take a lot of explaining and she wouldn’t believe him. And even if she did he doubted that at the end of it she’d be very interested in answering the question, “So, anyway, what should I say to Dionna to make her like me again?”
He got up and rummaged through the fourteen cardboard pizza boxes strewn around the living room to see if there were any bits of delicious stuffed crust left. But since he’d already done this last night, there weren’t. He went back to the jacket, took out Mr Carter’s credit card and went over to the phone.
When he picked up the receiver, though, he wasn’t sure about ordering pizza again – he didn’t know how much money Mr Carter actually had in his bank account and he didn’t want to spend it all on pizza.
Plus it didn’t feel quite as thrilling and fun just to do it again. He suddenly had an image of him ordering pizza every night, stretching into the future, and it didn’t feel fun at all.
In truth, he wasn’t that hungry. He just felt a tiny bit lonely. He even thought to himself, looking at the boxes, ’Izza. Just because it was what his baby sister would have said. Or maybe ’izza ’ox. He’d like to have heard that. It would’ve made him laugh and cheered him up.
Then he noticed that on the main phone console there was a light blinking. Which meant there was a message for him. Well, not for him. For Mr Carter. So maybe he should ignore it.
But, then again, it was blinking. And Ryan felt a tiny bit lonely. At least it would be good hearing another voice. So he pressed the button.
“Hello …” said a worried-sounding female voice on the machine. “This is a message for Mr Carter.
It’s Zadie at St Winifred’s. Your mum has taken a bit of a turn for the worse, I’m afraid. She’s stable at the moment, but maybe you should come down as soon as you can. Thanks, all the best. Zadie. Oh, I said that already. Anyway, bye.”
Back at the Wards’ house, meanwhile, there was an after-effect from the visit to Aunt Annie’s. It may have been caused by laughing more than he – Mr Carter-inside-Ryan, that is – had for years, or it may have been too much breathing in the … well … fumes, but Ryan suddenly felt a bit queasy.
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