"With the cross....."
Miss Harvey straightened, banged furiously on the lectern and brought the singing to a halt. She turned and glared straight at Simon. He felt himself redden, and despite his best efforts, he literally started to quake in his shoes. Simon knew he was looking guilty, and that knowledge only compounded the circumstances and led to further appearance of guilt.
"Simon Scott!" shouted Miss Harvey. "You deliberately disobeyed me."
Simon sensed that this was the command to confess his guilt in front of the whole school. But he could not do that. Simon knew who was responsible, but dared not look round at Barry Spence. Instead he looked at Miss Harvey and was aware of the younger classes who were stood in front, between Simon and Miss Harvey, turning round to view the object of Miss Harvey's accusation, the sea of silent faces making him even more confused and frightened.
"Miss, it wasn't me," said Simon.
"Do you deny it?" demanded Miss Harvey, angrily. "What is it that wasn't you?"
"Please Miss, it wasn't me that sang Mar Chin."
Miss Harvey lifted her head in triumph.
"I did not say in what way you had disobeyed me, boy. You have just admitted your guilt in front of the whole school, haven't you?"
Simon knew when he was beaten, and just stayed silent, head down, looking at the grey socks of the second year boy standing in front him, and finding time to notice the two green hoops around the tops, and the line of his thigh muscles as his legs disappeared into his grey school short trousers. Then Simon heard Miss Day's voice.
"It was someone here, Miss Harvey, but I'm not sure if it was Simon."
Simon's hopes rose as he heard Miss Day speak up for him, only for them to crash as he heard his enemy's scornful retort.
"Well, Miss Day, I have just heard the boy admit he knew what he had done. We all heard it, didn't we?" she demanded of the school en masse.
"Yes Miss," replied the school dutifully en masse.
Simon looked up to see Miss Harvey's triumphant face, and Miss Day's embarrassed face, downcast. Simon felt grateful for her intervention, but he knew that it was to no avail. For some reason, he knew that it was his role in life to take the blame, and nothing could stop the inevitability of that, not Day, not Daniel, not Mummy.
Miss Harvey picked up her cane, that was never far away and flexed it with both hands.
"Simon Scott, we will deal with you at the end of assembly. Thank you, Miss Smith, verse two again."
The singing started, and Simon noticed that Barry Spence sang MARCHING this time.
The assembly seemed to last an age to Simon. Each time he raised his eyes, Miss Harvey seemed to be watching him. Simon started to cry, the tears rolling down his cheeks in a slow procession.
At the end, after the prayers, in which Miss Harvey called upon the children to love each other for the sake of Lord Jesus, who loved each and every one of them, the dreaded moment arrived.
"Scott! Come out here!"
Simon willed his feet out of their place in the line facing the front of the hall and walked to the side of the hall and slowly down to the front, to stand in front of Miss Harvey. His head hung, looking sideways he could see the children looking at him.
Then Miss Harvey thought of a new way to extend Simon's torment.
"Mrs. Hastings, I think the infants should return to their classes before I administer the punishment."
Simon turned and for a moment his eyes met with those of Mrs. Hastings. Somehow, she managed to convey to him a message of warmth in that brief instant, before she turned and led the infants with their teachers out of the hall.
"Now then, junior school," said Miss Harvey, "it is my unpleasant duty to demonstrate that obedience is the first lesson that must be learnt. Watch and learn yourselves."
Like some spectre of death, the headmistress turned to Simon.
"What have go to say for yourself, boy?"
"Please Miss, it wasn't me," Simon replied, so quietly through his tears that only Miss Harvey could have heard him. Simon wondered as he said it how he got the courage to maintain his defence, despite the overwhelming evidence against him; or was it just desperation to avoid the pain to come? Simon knew she hated him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Certainly, Simon's temerity in maintaining his innocence fired her up now.
"How dare you!" she snapped. "Bend over!"
At the front of the hall, in front of all the juniors, Simon slowly leant forward, feeling the pressure of Miss Harvey's hand on his back until he reached an acceptable angle. He saw Barry Spence smirking and behind his own class, the fourth years, some of them laughing quietly. He sought Daniel's face in vain. If only he could find Daniel, it wouldn't be so bad. He was aware of himself on the stage, in front of the school, as though watching himself. He tried to pretend it was a film.
The first stroke smashed across Simon's bottom, and the pain seared through him. He winced and cried out. One of the little first year girls started to cry. Then Simon saw Daniel at the back, his face impassively rigid as he watched his friend's agony. Simon tried to meet his eyes, but Miss Harvey put paid to that.
"Face down boy!"
Simon turned his head down, shut his eyes and somehow survived the rest of his punishment. As the sixth and final blow fell, he felt dizzy and nearly toppled forward, just managing to stop himself. Slowly he stood up, tears streaming down his face, chest heaving and sobbing, his disgrace for all the junior school to see.
"Let that be a lesson to you, Simon Scott. I assure you that you will tire of your disobedience before I ever tire of trying to reform you. Return to your class."
Simon walked back to where his class were waiting, and then with them back to classroom. As they passed the door to Mr. West's room, he and Miss Day were in conversation.
"The woman's quite mad, you know," Mr. West was saying.
"As the proverbial Hatter," agreed Miss Day, "and as for reform, what a hope! She should try a bit of loving sympathy. She's always had it in for that boy."
Simon did not hear Mr. West's next comment, and he wondered vaguely who they were talking about, but his preoccupation with his pain and disgrace was not conducive to sustained thought on the matter. The conversation between the two teachers did have one effect which was only eventually to worsen matters for Simon. Whilst they were each venting their frustration at Miss Harvey's iron rule on each other, Simon arrived back in his classroom unsupervised, along with the rest of his class.
Cynthia came up to Simon, genuine concern on her face.
"Are you alright, Simon?" she asked.
Simon, touched by the sympathy, felt a further tear roll down his face.
"Softy!" shouted Barry Spence, hoping to provoke further distress in Simon, amid more catcalls from his followers.
Sidney Forth joined in at this point, swept along on the wave of victimisation of Simon.
"Proves he should never have been born, just like Miss Day said," yelled Forth to the class. A roar of approval greeted this announcement, and Forth grinned at his triumph.
Simon, unable to respond to the Spence gang, was suddenly overwhelmed by his anger and frustration. Forth he could respond to, Forth he could attack, and all Simon's fury was streaming up through his body, filling his consciousness, his mind aware only of Forth, and oblivious to all other inputs. He launched himself at Forth, whose idiotic grin of triumph transformed into alarm as he saw the projectile that was Simon coming at him, hatred all over his face.
Simon hit Forth with such force that both boys were carried across the top of Forth's desk, knocking it over, the lid opening as it toppled, smashing off as it hit the ground, ink from the inkwell trickling out onto Forth's strewn books. Simon landed on top of Forth and started hitting him about the face and head as hard as he could, uncaring of the pain caused to his own hands. Blood started to ooze from Forth's face as the boy tried to protect his head from the onslaught as best he could.
Something in Simon sensed that he had do
ne enough, but the anger still needed a further outlet. He turned and saw Forth's books scattered about. His rage returning, Simon picked up an exercise book and ripped it in two, flinging the parts in opposite directions, and stamping and trampling as best he could on the rest of Forth's possessions.
One of the halves of the exercise book landed at the feet of Miss Day, who, hearing the commotion, had hurried from her talk with Mr. West to see what was going on.
"Simon!" she shouted, "what do you think you are doing?" Then she saw Forth's inert form on the floor.
"Sidney, are you all right? Let me look at you," said Miss Day, hurrying over and kneeling by Forth's side.
"I think so, Miss," said Forth, sitting, and then slowly standing up.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Miss Day, as she started to see the mess created by the fracas, "What has been going on?"
"Miss, he just attacked me," said Forth.
"That's right, Miss," said Spence, and the gang chorused agreement.
"Miss, they were calling Simon names and things," said Cynthia, and Susan and Pamela chimed in with similar comments. Suddenly there was commotion again as the children argued, putting their case.
The silence came quickly, children stopping in mid sentence, as they became aware of another presence in the room. Standing in the doorway, like the personification of evil, was Miss Harvey, still carrying the cane. She spoke with ominous quietness.
"Just what is going on in here, may I ask?"
Miss Day started to speak. "There seems to have been an accident ...."
"Simon Scott attacked Sidney Forth...", chimed in a voice.
Then there were others.
"..and just kept hitting him...made him bleed....they called him names, Miss...smashed the desk...ripped up the books...the others started it...poured ink on his things..."
"Quiet!" snapped Miss Harvey. There was quiet. "Simon Scott, are you responsible for this assault and the damage school property and to Sidney's books?"
Simon remained silent, not daring to say anything. It was all so unfair, so unjust. How is that Spence's lot can get away with anything, but I get caught straight away? She didn't come in when they were being nasty to me, did she?
"Your silence speaks more than your feeble lies and excuses ever could, boy," said Miss Harvey. "As you have just received punishment for disobedience, I shall not cane you again this morning. Instead, you will come to me at playtime this afternoon for punishment. Perhaps in the interim, you might reflect on your future in this school."
Miss Harvey turned and swept out of the room. Most of the class looked at Simon with awe, and fear for what he was due to suffer again so soon. Simon saw Spence looking at him in new way, that Simon could not interpret. Forth was glaring, indignant at his physical defeat, gloating at the prospect of his assailant's torture to come.
Miss Day again spoke. "Come on, now, boys. Pick up the desk. Girls, help Sidney to tidy up his things. Simon, come here please."
Simon went to Miss Day's desk, while the rest of the class busied themselves clearing the debris.
"What happened, Simon?" asked Miss Day, gently.
He knew that she was being sympathetic, sensed too that she disagreed with Miss Harvey in some way, but intuitively knew that she was powerless to help, and the effort of trying to justify his actions to her would change nothing, and was not worth the attempt. He shrugged, and remained silent.
Miss Day knew too that Simon was somehow aware of her impotence in the matter, and that he was ready to talk, if he ever would be. Poor boy, he really got dealt a raw deal in life.
"Go back to your place then Simon," she said, "and maybe we'll talk later." But she knew that they would not. There was no way across the abyss to reach that boy and offer help, even if she knew what help to give. And there was always Miss Harvey, who would never approve.
Simon went back to his seat, among the glances of his classmates, who were looking at him in a new light. Even Barry Spence regarded him with a slightly puzzled face. But Simon could not quell the anger within him. Somehow the outburst had failed to satisfy this new need to lash out, his soul remained unsatiated, the thirst of his frustration unquenched. All the years of insults, taunts and jibes flowed through his mind, fuelling the resentment he felt against Spence, Forth, Miss Harvey and even Miss Day for her inability to help. As the morning's lessons went on, Simon mechanically went through the motions of taking out books, putting books away and so on, but his mind was elsewhere, seething with emotion.
By midday, the desire to escape had become overwhelming. Fear of the caning to come at afternoon playtime drove his feelings upward. There was no hope here, no justice, no protection from persecution. The only way was out.
So Simon took his coat from the peg and instead of joining the dinner line, walked out into the yard and through the gate with the children going home for lunch. Mr. Ashby on the gate made as though to speak to him, but Simon was simply walking with the rest, and he decided that really he had no cause to question Simon. After all, the poor kid had probably had enough, and the last thing he wanted to do was to get him into further trouble with Miss Harvey.
Once in the street, Simon faced a decision. Where to go? Automatically, he headed towards home, and Mummy. But Daddy might be at home, and he would most likely hit Simon for leaving school. For some time, Simon wandered round the streets, past the time when he should have returned to school. No going back now!
1955/10 Truancy and Theft
Simon found himself at a bombsite. Some had now been built on, but this one still had piles of bricks and wood, the remains of someone's home. He wondered if anybody had been killed. He sat for a while, trying to hide among the rubble, but there wasn't enough. Some had been removed. He wandered down to where there were bombed out houses. Some windows still had dirty glass in them. Simon picked up a half brick from the rubble and launched it at a window. The resulting smash was very satisfying and he spent a few minutes throwing stones and smashing in an orgy of broken glass, venting his frustration in the destruction until a man shouted at him. He ran off as fast as he could.
Simon realised that he was hungry. He wandered further and came to the shopping parade, which was fairly busy. Unfortunately, Simon didn't have any money. The newsagent and sweetshop was a natural target for a hungry boy, and Simon went in. Mr. Cole was serving behind the counter, but there were racks of sweets and chocolates on display. Lots of shops were doing that now, so you could choose what you wanted and then take it to the counter to pay for them, instead of having to queue and let Mr. Cole get you what you wanted, item by item. A lady was having some kind of argument with Mr. Cole, and then a man came in and waited impatiently. As the argument about a paper bill progressed, the man got more and more cross. At last he interrupted.
"Could I have a little service round here, please?" he said abruptly.
"Excuse me," said the lady, "but I was here first."
"The way you're going on, you'll be here when the bomb drops, too," replied the man.
"Wait a moment," said Mr. Cole, "there's no need to go off the deep end."
And suddenly the three of them were arguing like mad. Acting on instinct, Simon quickly scooped two Mars Bars and a packet of Refreshers and ran out of the shop back onto the parade. He broke into a run and turned the corner at the end. Heart pounding, he kept running, through the quiet streets, past the allotments. The den! Safety! He ran and lay panting on the soft grass of the den. The passing years had not diminished the importance of the den to Simon. It was not quite the secret place it had once been, because sometimes it was obvious that other people had been there, but Simon was now realistic enough to know that this was only to be expected. It did not reduce the significance it had as the place where he could relax with Daniel, and feel a whole person, accepted for what he was by the one person in the world (apart from Mummy) who he felt treated him with love and care.
Simon lay there elated. Then he started on a Mars Bar. It had been so easy! Just
pick it up and run. Simon was sure that Mr. Cole didn't know who he was, and would probably never miss a few sweets from all those others anyway. As he ate, his hunger seemed to grow, and the second bar went the way of the first. Wait till Barry Spence finds out what I've done, thought Simon. That would make him think differently about me. But the impracticality of telling Spence, even if he were believed, tarnished that particular daydream.
Simon peered out from the den. Others may come here, but once in, one was hidden from view, yet had plenty of warning of anybody coming. Ideal place. There was nobody around, nobody in the allotments. Spurred on by his success, Simon climbed from the den and walked down to the allotments. There were one or two small sheds dotted about, mostly rather old and broken down. Simon looked in through the dirty windows at bags of unknown materials, gardening tools, old pairs of gloves and jars of unknown liquids. Coming upon a shed with an unlocked door (many had padlocks) Simon went in. There was the usual assortment of gardening apparatus, and a small bench. Curious, Simon pulled open the drawer set beneath this. Inside was a book about cabbages or something, all soiled from being handled, some cutters, but screwed up beside them was a brown ten shilling note. Ten shillings! Simon could not remember the last time he had held a ten bob note. He thought of what that could buy, and stuffed it into his pocket. Cautiously, he looked round the allotments before quickly leaving the shed and hurrying back to the den.
His heart thumping, Simon felt that same feeling of elation that he had felt earlier. Somehow, the fear itself was exciting, and justified by the success of the venture. The elation and excitement drove out the emotions of anger and frustration, and the success drove away the feelings of inadequacy and helplessness.
After a while, sucking on a Refresher and holding the ten shilling note in his hand he noticed some children on the road at the other side of the allotments. It must be home time. This brought Simon down to earth again. He would have to go home at some time. What would Mummy say about the sweet shop and the ten bob note? He knew of course that he could not tell her. She would not approve and he felt a little ashamed at the betrayal of trust to come. But if Daddy knew, Simon would be well beaten. He never needed much excuse to hit Simon, so with an excuse like stealing (and Simon knew what he had done) the severity of the beating would be limitless. Simon had had enough beating, and the thought reminded him of his own soreness. Looking out again, Simon's heart leapt. Joy of joys! Daniel was walking across the allotments straight towards the den. Simon watched his friend approach with pleasure and happiness driving out the anxiety he had felt as earlier elation and triumph had driven out anger and fear.
The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel Page 8