Halston told me all about it. I was very shocked because Uncle Clary seemed to be quite a nice old chap. I felt a bit guilty too, because just the day before, he’d tickled me a bit when I took him his tea, and then he gave me a bar of Cadbury’s Whole Nut which I was going to save for a special occasion. I thought it was a bad thing to keep it since it was given to me by such a wicked person, so the next day straight after breakfast I fetched it from my locker and sneaked down below the tennis court where we’re not allowed and threw it with all my might far away into the river.
Q
I want to stay here on the grass forever. I’d like it if no one ever came back from the playing field, and I could just be so still that whole days and nights and weeks would go past. I would slowly change and start to become part of the ground, and then I wouldn’t even be a human being anymore. I’d like it that oceans of time would go by, and I wouldn’t mind it if the sun was baking hot, or the rain was beating down, or if there was six inches of snow on top of me. Just so long as I could be still and there was no noise in my head. If I was turned into Tom Thumb, I’d be high up in the sky. And if I was looking down at where I am now, I wouldn’t even be able to see myself because I would have disappeared. Perhaps there’d be just the tiniest bump with grass growing over what used to be me.
‘Teasdale, what on earth are you doing? We’ve blooming well had a search party out for you! You’re in big trouble, you are…’ It’s Wallington, standing over me with one foot either side of my chest, and I’m thinking he’s a giant house martin because he’s all mixed up with the dream I’ve been having. He looks down at me with a red face and his hands on his hips.
‘Sorry, Wallington. I think I was asleep.’
‘You’re for it, you are! Everyone has gone into High Tea. What on earth are you doing this side of the fence anyway? You know it’s out of bounds, don’t you?’
I don’t say anything, but I’m getting up and brushing the grass off my back and trousers and legs.
‘Headmaster will want to see you. Now! On the double!’ We walk back towards the school with Wallington’s hand on the back of my head like Mr. Burston was doing before, and it feels as though I’m a prisoner and being taken to a place for punishing. I suppose that really is the truth of what’s happening. When we get to the dining room all the talking goes down a bit when I come through the door, and then I wait while Wallington whispers to Mr. Burston at the centre table who then beckons me over. I’m really frightened because I’ve made such a mistake.
‘Sit down and have your tea, and then wait for me under the clock. I’ll see you in my study straight after.’ His face is red and when he looks like that I know he’s doing his best not to be angry. He’s probably saving it for later when he’s going to take the plimsol out of the cupboard to whack me with it for the first time ever. I try to eat my tea, which is Welsh rarebit and usually one of my favourite things, but it’s not going down and my throat is hot from doing my best not to cry. Theo’s sitting next to me, and he says ‘Where have you been?’ in a telling-off sort of a way. When I say I was asleep on the grass on the other side of the tennis court fence he looks at me as though I’m so crazy that there’s no point in talking to me anymore. Then he just stares at me for a bit, nodding his head from side to side to show how serious the whole thing is. He’s really pleased that I’m in trouble, that’s for sure.
The noises and pictures are back inside my head while I’m under the clock. I look at the big leather chair and remember the day last week when I was waiting for Mummy, and then I’m seeing the plimsol in the cupboard that’s waiting for me and Mr. Burston’s face red with anger. It’s my own voice that’s telling me I’m in trouble and I’m probably deserving it what with having left Mummy to fend for herself with the police and also being silly enough to fall asleep on the other side of the fence. And I’m thinking how mad is it that I’ve done that, because usually I never ever break school rules on account of the fact that I really don’t like people to be at all angry with me, and I just couldn’t bear to get the cane.
Mr. Burston opens the door of his study. His face isn’t red anymore. ‘Come along in, young man.’ He’s beckoning me with his finger, which he does to everyone who’s in some sort of trouble, then his hand’s on the back of my head again as we’re walking across to his desk. This time he doesn’t pull the wicker chair up for me, and I’m standing there with my hands behind my back twiddling my fingers. My knees are a bit wobbly, and my bum feels tingly where it’s going to be whacked. He goes round the back of the desk and sits down. The study is even darker than it was this morning because the sun doesn’t shine on this side of the school in the afternoon.
‘It’s out of bounds, Teasdale. No one but staff and prefects are allowed on the far side of the fence without my express permission.’ He pauses and one of his eyebrows goes up. ‘You know that perfectly well, don’t you?’ he says.
‘Yes Sir I’m sorry Sir.’
He screws up his mouth to make his lips thinner while he’s thinking about the punishment. I’m waiting for him to say whether it’s going to be the cane or the plimsol.
‘Don’t let it happen again, please.’
‘No Sir I won’t Sir.’
‘Off you go now.’
Q
‘I cannot believe that you didn’t get a thrashing for that…’ It’s Theo, standing by the washstands in the dorm with toothpaste ready on his brush, but too disappointed and angry to be able to start brushing. I’ve been trying to keep out of his way since the end of prep, but now that we’re upstairs getting ready for bed there’s nothing I can do about it since he’s in my blooming dorm. He’s been going on and on. I came into prep quite a long time after it had started on account of standing under the clock, and when I sat down I could see him looking at me, desperate to know all about it. He threw me a little scrunched up note from his desk that said ‘Did it hurt?’ but I just ignored it. After that, he kept making little whistling sounds to attract my attention, but I just wouldn’t look over to him. Then he threw a crayon at me that hit the side of my head and with my mouth I made the shape of the words ‘bog off’ to him. I was hoping that Mr. Tulley who was taking prep this evening would hear the whistling and the crayon sliding along the floor, and he’d get into trouble, but no such luck. As soon as prep was finished he came rushing up to me in the queue for cocoa to find out all about it. When I told him that not only had I not been beaten, but I hadn’t even been punished he shouted ‘You’re fibbing! You’ve got to be fibbing!’ and just wouldn’t believe it.
Just as I’m bending over the washstand to wash my face with my pink flannel from home, my pajama bottoms are pulled right down to the floor. I drop the flannel and bend down to pull my pants up, but someone grabs me by the wrist and my head is being pushed down. Theo says ‘Grab his other hand, Chirly. Grab his other hand, quick!’ Then my other wrist is being held tight behind my back, and my head’s being pushed down so I’m bent over with my pajama bottoms still round my ankles. I fall down right to the floor with my nose pressed against the floorboards, smelling the polish and the dust. ‘Let me go! Please let me go,’ I’m shouting, but none of the others come to help me. Theo’s holding one wrist, and Chirl is holding the other behind my back and sitting on me, laughing and shouting, ‘Look at his bum! Look at his bum! Has it got red marks on it?’
‘I don’t believe it!’ Theo’s shouting. ‘There’s not a scratch on him. Not a single mark.’
‘Whack him with your slipper, Theo, quick…’ Chirl says laughing, and the very next thing I’m feeling is my bottom being hit.
It doesn’t hurt very much. But I want to pull my pants up. Everyone can see me, and I just hate to be bare.
‘Please let me get up, please, Chirl. Why are you doing this?’
‘It’s time you got the slipper, that’s why. Slipper on the bum for Stuart England’s bum-boy…’
‘What are
you talking about? Why are you saying that? It’s not true.’
‘Oh come off it, Teasdale,’ says Theo, ‘Everybody knows what you’ve been up to. Piss-pot bum-boy.’
‘Piss-pot bum-boy!’ says Chirl. ‘That’s good. That’s his name from now on!’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, leave him alone, you spastoids,’ Tom Whickham says very slowly as though he’s bored with them being horrible. I turn my head and from the ground, looking under the beds past everyone’s overnight bags, I can see his legs swinging backwards and forwards. He’s sitting on the side of his bed, watching it all. And that’s the worst part actually. I don’t want Tom Whickham to see me like this. I don’t even like it that he’s said anything to Theo and Chirl. I don’t want it that he’s got to stick up for me.
And then they’re getting off me very quickly and rushing over to their beds. Pugh’s just come in the door.
‘What on earth is going on in here?’ he says. I’ve already mostly pulled my pajamas up though I’m still on the floor. ‘Teasdale? What’s going on?’
‘Nothing, Pugh. I just slipped, that’s all. I just slipped over a bit.’
‘Okay, okay, wipe your nose, stop blubbing, and get into bed.’ I hadn’t even noticed that I’d started to cry. I get up and wipe my nose on the back of my pajama sleeve and get into my bed with everyone silently looking at me. Then I go under the sheets and stick my hand out to feel for my rug and pull it right up over my head so no one can see that I’m crying and to make it as dark as possible so I can think that I might be somewhere else.
I can hear Pugh talking very quietly as though I’m not here or at least I mustn’t be hearing the conversation.
‘What’s been going on, Chirl? Theodorakis? What were you doing to him?’
‘He slipped, that’s all, just like he said. And Theo and I were trying to help him up,’ says Chirl.
‘Don’t lie to me, you cretin. I want the truth. What were you doing?’
There’s a long silence and Theo and Chirl are deciding whether to say or not and after a bit I know they’re thinking it’s best not to. Then Pugh says in a loud voice, ‘I don’t want bullying in my dorm. Is that understood?’ There’s a long pause. ‘Is that understood?’ he says again, nearly shouting. ‘Pack it up, all of you. Get into bed. Now. I’m putting the lights out early, and I want silence—complete silence!’
‘Yes, Pugh,’ everyone says together, with Chirl and Theo being especially loud because they’re pleased that they’ve not got into trouble after all.
In the blackness of my bed there’s quiet for a while. After a bit, the door opens suddenly. I can’t see him, but it must be Pugh who’s been listening secretly outside. Without saying anything, he closes the door again.
The quiet goes on for a long time, and I’m thinking it might be the end of this horrid day with them all about to fall asleep, leaving me alone with the darkness. I hope I’m not going to start talking to myself inside my head and seeing pictures again.
‘What’s he done, anyway?’ It’s Lucky Lorrimer, who’s usually the first asleep, whispering to someone very loudly.
Chirl’s whispering back. ‘Shut up, Lucky. Pugh’ll come back in.’
‘I just want to know what he’s done, that’s all.’ I can hear the springs in his bed as he’s getting out and crossing over to Chirl. I fold back my rug just a little so that I can hear what they’re saying.
‘Get back to bed, Lorrimer.’
‘Not till you tell me what Teasdale’s done.’
Chirl stops the whispering then, because he wants me to hear.
‘Burston found him in Mr. England’s bed.’
‘What was he doing in there?’
‘Oh, for heaven sake, Lucky, don’t you know anything? It means Mr. England’s a prevert.’
‘Pervert, Chirl, you cretin,’ says Nick Earl loudly, because he’s forgotten about the whispering as well.
Then Theo starts up, even louder to make sure that I can definitely hear. ‘It means Mr. England’s been perving him up. Like what Digby and Forman do after lights out. Only when a master does it to you, it means he’s a pervert. And that’s a crime, which is why the police have been here.’
‘Golly!’ Lorrimer’s thinking about what he’s heard for a bit. ‘What will happen to Mr. England then?’
‘He’s probably going to go to prison,’ Theo says.
‘Blimey!’
Q
Way into the night, I peep out from under the covers, and it’s as black as black can be. I wonder if it’s ever happened before that I’ve been awake for as long as this. Lorrimer’s snoring loudly, but it’s not making any difference to the others in the dorm because they’ve all been asleep for hours and hours, too. About an hour ago I heard Pugh come in and take his clothes off in the dark. He splashed his face with water from his washstand and after, he came over to my bed and leaned over me, but it was dark enough so that he didn’t see me go right back down under the blankets. I made a big breathing sound so that he’d think I was asleep and wouldn’t ask me if I was alright. He got into his bed, and after a bit I could hear that he was asleep, too.
Now I’m all alone in the night again, and it’s the strangest thing to be so awake even though I want very badly to be asleep. It’s just too noisy in my head though, and it’s making my heart beat which is a thing that keeps you awake even when you think of sheep jumping over hedges. That’s a well known trick for wide awake people in the middle of the night, but it’s not working on me. I keep forgetting to concentrate on them, and there’s only about twenty jumping over before, without wanting it, I’m seeing pictures of Mr. England, and the folder, and Mummy in the park, and all the boys at the borstal where I might be sent.
I’m so awake that I hear Miss Carson walking along the corridor even before she opens the door. She’s got the pot in one hand and the torch in the other which is shining and making circles on the floorboards as she comes towards my bed. I’m getting out even before she reaches me. I try to pee but I’m just not able to do it tonight. I don’t ask her what time it is like I usually do because I only do that if I’m fast asleep and not thinking properly. I don’t think she’s used to me saying nothing at all.
‘Everything alright, Teasdale?’
‘Yes, thank you, Miss Carson.’
‘You sure? Haven’t you been sleeping?’
‘Yes. Yes, I have. Right until just now, actually.’
When I get back into my bed, she tucks the blanket into the side which means her face is right down close to mine. From the light of the torch I can see her big eyes looking at me trying to discover if I’m alright, and so I do a little smile in case she might be able to see. Then she gently touches the top of my head. I think she’s still being kind to me because of all the business with Mummy last week.
And then she’s walking away, shining the torch on the door. She closes it behind her, and I hear her going along the corridor back into the night. The silence and the blackness come back again.
I try to make the hours pass by looking at the ceiling to see if the shadows and cracks might be able to tell me some stories, but really it’s too dark for me to see anything properly.
And then I hear something and know it must be my clock ticking away in between Jollo’s paws at the bottom of my blue bag. That’s the strangest thing because I’ve never been able to hear it before. It’s as though it’s trying to catch my attention to let me know that it urgently needs winding because I’m on the edge of forgetting. That’s how it really is, too. I was on the edge of forgetting all my things from home—my clock, my album, Granny’s blue tee shirt, and the scarf that’s got Mummy’s smell on it. And Jollo. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had in all my life. He knows everything about me whether it’s good or bad. He knows if I’m frightened or sad or angry without my having to say anything at all. He just automatically knows. If ever I’m
not alright, I can feel he’s under the bed in the blue bag knowing all about it, and his friend the clock is in between his paws, wrapped up in tissue paper and ticking merrily away. Jollo’s always looked after me, ever since before Beirut. Ever since before I can remember. Actually, he looks after me much better than I look after him. And here we all are, far away from home, just a foot away from each other.
I lean out of the bed and wave my hand about underneath till it bangs into the bag. I pull it towards me and unzip it very slowly. I put my hand in and feel something soft and cool and slippery, and I know it’s Mummy’s silk scarf that I took from the drawer in her bedroom. I pull it out and hear the whispering swish of it unraveling, and then I weave it in and out of my fingers and kiss the smell of Mummy’s perfume. I think of her far away in a strange bed where she doesn’t want to be and wonder whether she might be awake in the middle of the night, too, thinking about me. After a while, I tuck the scarf under my pillow, though I know I mustn’t forget to put it back because I don’t want anyone to see it in the morning. Then I put my hand back into the bag and feel a small box. I can’t think straightaway what it is. There’s a little knob on the side, and I press it. All of a sudden, there’s a mixture of music and foreign talking, and I know it’s my little radio I’ve accidentally switched on, so quick as a flash I turn it off and snatch my hand out of the case. I lie as still as still can be, holding my breath and listening for any sign of one of the others waking up because of it. No one stirs though, and I let out my breath as quietly as I can. Slowly my hand creeps back into the bag, past the radio, the stamp album, the blue photo album, the tee shirt Granny gave me, and deeper down to where I feel the crinkly tissue paper that my clock is wrapped in. I feel Jollo’s paw for a second to say hello, lift out the clock, and put it right by the side of my cheek on the pillow. Very carefully I unwrap the paper as if the clock might be asleep and I’m not to disturb it even though I’m winding it up—it’s a bit like a father who’s got to take a small sleeping baby out of the car after a long journey and put it in its cot upstairs. I pull the rug up over my head and hear my breath and the ticking, and I see the green luminous time that shines for a few inches all around and tells me it’s 12.30, and I’m in another day. My lips touch the glass at the front and ever so gently I wind the clock and hold the little hammer thing between the two bells so it won’t make a noise. I’m going to make sure to keep the ticking from home alive before I give it back to Jollo to look after.
The House Martin Page 23