by Matt Drabble
“Teacher’s pet,” she smirked and poked out her tongue. “All ready for tomorrow’s game?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” he sighed. “I’m afraid that a lot of the lads’ attentions are on the holidays.”
“I’m sure that you’ll do fine,” she smiled back. “Have you seen Sarah anywhere?”
“Why? Is she ok?” he asked worriedly.
Her heart sank a little at his obvious concern for her friend and she felt just a small stab of jealousy. “She’s fine.”
“I was worried about her after the other night. She always seems so tightly wound and buttoned down, but for a moment she looked wild and scared. I know that I’ve only known her a relatively short amount of time but it did seem so out of character,” he said earnestly.
Jemima couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have a man like Stuart worry about her so.
“Has she opened up to you?” Stuart asked. “You know, anything about her past before she came here?”
“Not really, no,” Jemima replied honestly. “Anytime I’ve asked she either changes the subject or just clams up. I’ve always had the feeling that something happened to her once, something bad. But if she doesn’t want to talk about it then who am I to press it?”
“Her friend?” he answered pointedly.
Jemima looked at Stuart with her conscience pricked and felt bad about her petty jealousy. “Why don’t you try talking to her?”
“Oh man, I’ve been burnt down that particular road on more than one occasion,” he laughed. “I can’t help but feel worried about her. People that tightly wound tend to explode at some point.”
She nodded in reply. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should try again. Term ends on Friday and I was planning on heading home for the holidays but I know that Sarah always offers to stay on site. Perhaps I’ll stay behind as well for Christmas.”
“You know what, that’s a great idea,” Stuart said enthusiastically. “I’ll do the same. We can make it a real holiday for all of us; maybe we’ll break down some of those barriers after all.”
Jemima watched as he bounded out of the doors and onto the playing fields to his waiting boys. He was a good man and she really couldn’t begrudge Sarah any happiness, or at least she shouldn’t.
Sarah was taking a stroll when she met Maurice in the grounds. She could hear the high pitched peeping of the ref’s whistle from over on the playing fields on the other side of the school. For once, she did not want to wander over and watch Stuart run the team through their paces.
“Penny for them?” Maurice asked, as he put down the wheelbarrow that he was pushing.
“Sorry?”
“For your thoughts,” he said attempting a smile. His was a face etched in stone and seemingly permanently miserable.
“Nothing really,” she lied.
“You know, you are a strange one, Miss,” he said, not unkindly. “I see you all the time wandering around on your own and keeping to yourself.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” she retorted.
“Ah but I’m happiest by myself; you, on the other hand, are on some kind of self-imposed exile. I see that young teacher buzzing around you trying to make friends. I see that maths guy making goo-goo eyes at you and I see you pretending not to notice and pretending not to be interested.”
“It’s complicated,” she said quietly.
“It always is, Miss,” he replied, putting a rough calloused hand gently on her arm. “Life can be hard and brutal at times, and our defence is the people around us. You should let some of them in; no matter what you ran away from, there is always forgiveness.”
Sarah felt herself close to tears. This was the longest conversation she had ever had with the caretaker and probably the most meaningful with anyone since she had left Eden. “Maybe you’re right,” she sighed.
She suddenly felt eyes on her from behind and spun around quickly, feeling the threat. She couldn’t see anyone at first, and then she saw him. The new boy, Joshua Bradley, was standing some 20 feet away.
He was partially obscured behind a tall range of trees but his presence was strangely palpable. She turned to say something to Maurice but she found that he was wheeling away quickly without saying goodbye.
“Out for a walk Miss Mears?” Joshua asked, startling her.
She turned to see him standing next to her and tried not to panic. He seemed to have covered the distance between them impossibly quickly but she quickly tried to calm her imagination. She had panicked enough for one week already.
“Where are you going, Mr. Bradley? This isn’t a hotel you know; we have rules about pupils and where they are allowed to wander,” she said firmly.
Joshua replied by looking down at the rugby kit that he was wearing with a strange small smile.
Sarah covered her embarrassment by looking away quickly so as not to show it. “I’m sure that Mr. Keaton will be waiting for you; on your way now,” she ordered.
“Apologies if I startled you, Miss,” he said.
She turned around, half expecting him to have vanished into thin air but he was just walking away naturally.
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Alex Thompson used his anger to good effect on the field. He was skilful enough to sidestep his opponents but tonight he was more interested in running straight through them.
It was bad enough that he was going to be stuck here over the holidays, but the whole class had been obsessed with the new kid after his grand entrance.
He carried the ball hard and dipped his shoulder into Michael Jenkins. He smiled cruelly as Michael’s face contorted in pain as his beefy shoulder hit the smaller boy’s chest. He completed the act by making sure that he trampled Michael hard underfoot as he ran over him.
The practice session was halted by the shrill blast from Mr. Keaton’s whistle. “Thompson!” he yelled loudly.
Alex feigned his innocence with his best angelic expression. “It was an accident,” he said. “It’s not my fault if he can’t tackle.”
“One more trick like that and you’ll be watching the game tomorrow from the bench,” Keaton replied sternly.
Alex looked at him in disbelief. He was the best player on the team by far and everyone knew it; there was no way that Keaton could afford to drop him. “Bullshit,” he said sullenly.
Keaton’s face flushed purple and Alex immediately regretted his words. The maths teacher was normally a pushover but now he looked mad. “Off, now!” Keaton growled.
Alex stomped off the field, unable to comprehend just how it seemed like he had been removed from the centre of the universe. He was the biggest dog in school, if not the only dog, and now he was being sent away like a naughty schoolboy.
“Not the showers,” Keaton barked. “Take a seat on the sidelines and you can watch the rest of practice.”
Alex found himself amidst the unheard of sniggers from the other boys. He didn’t think that the day could get any worse.
“Ah, it’s Bradley isn’t it?” Keaton shouted to a new figure wandering onto the field of play. “Joshua Bradley?”
“Yes Sir,” the new kid answered.
“Practice starts at 6 pm sharp Bradley. Don’t be late again; it shows disrespect to me and your teammates.”
“Sorry Sir. I got lost looking for the pitch,” Joshua answered.
It turned out that Joshua was a natural athlete of pace and power; of that, there was no mistake.
Alex had expected that the new boy, being American, would know nothing about rugby, but he seemed to know everything about the intricacies of the game.
More shocking was that the team soon rallied around him and he was quickly organizing attack and defence structures, yelling at teammates who had strayed offside.
It may have been Joshua’s first day, but Alex couldn’t help but feel his own power slipping away.
“Thompson,” Keaton called over to him. “Let’s test the new kid out,” the teacher said absently as he watched Joshua race down the wing
for another try. “And don’t hurt him,” Keaton stressed as Alex smiled.
The game restarted and Alex tracked Joshua across the field. They both appeared to play fly half and so they were opposite each other.
Alex was concentrating on making a big hit but the new boy’s hands were quick and the ball was long gone before he could make contact. He had to reluctantly admire Joshua’s skills.
His hands were fast and sure and he had a left foot sidestep that was hard to read and even harder to catch.
From a scrum close to their own line Alex swept around the back as he watched Joshua carefully.
The opposing backline were set for right side play but he suddenly knew that Joshua was going the other way.
The new boy deftly chipped the ball ahead, over the defence, but Alex had read it all the way.
He raced over and followed the ball’s trajectory as it bounced in field; he timed his run perfectly.
As Joshua caught it, he smashed into him horizontally like a missile. He hit him as hard as he could muster and his shoulder smashed into Joshua’s ribs. He heard the huge exhale of breath, and he was sure that he heard something crack, along with the gasps from the other boys.
“Jesus Christ!” he heard Keaton exclaim as he rushed over.
Alex dragged himself up to his feet and towered over the new boy, proud of his work. Keaton shoved him roughly aside as he knelt beside Joshua.
“Bradley? Bradley?” Keaton asked as he checked the boy over carefully. “Are you ok?”
Alex thought that the new kid was on his way to hospital, right up until he stood up.
“Good hit man,” Joshua said, tapping his ribs. “Solid.”
Alex tried not to show his frustration at the miraculous resurrection but he was also impressed. The new kid could take a shot and didn’t complain, and man he could play. He could feel the other boys looking at him to see his reaction. “Good game,” he said, extending his hand and the tension broke.
“You free tomorrow night, Bradley?” Keaton asked.
“I made the team?” Joshua asked.
“Damn right you did” Alex said, slapping him on the back. “Tomorrow we play Maplecrest School. Tough bastards! Sorry Sir,” he said, remembering Keaton’s presence. “But with us in tandem, we’ll smash ‘em.”
“No, we’ll kill ‘em,” Joshua grinned and only Keaton winced at his choice of words.
CHAPTER 5
Hannah Marks, the school nurse, stood at her bedroom window as the first flakes of snow began to fall.
Maurice had forecast the weather as always, but he had also said that it would only be the first shots of war across the bows of the season. The grumpy caretaker was always right in the subject of the weather. He was a ruddy-faced country man who seemed in tune with elements.
She selected her warmest outfit from the wardrobe and wrapped herself in thick wool and a waterproof jacket. Ravenhill was located on an exposed and brutal part of the country and the winters were notoriously harsh.
This year had been the mildest by far that she could remember but Maurice had still warned her that the snow was coming and that it would be a mean storm.
This was her year off from the rota for staying in-house during Christmas and she desperately wanted to see her daughter’s new family.
Amy lived down in London with a new baby called Lily and a husband who worked in television.
Christmas always seemed like such a magical time for children and she prayed that the weather would hold off for another two days at least. Ravenhill had been cut off a few times in the past when the snow had come down in heavy fat flakes and buried the landscape in a thick white carpet. It could be a beautifully picturesque scene, but not if you had plans for the holidays.
Her room was set back from the other staff accommodation as she wasn’t a teacher. She had worked as a nurse in a large city hospital until the constant Friday and Saturday night bloodbaths had finally worn her down.
She had trained as a nurse to help and mend, but the city had turned her into a triage specialist patching up the inebriated with often more abuse than thanks.
The job at Ravenhill had been a blessing and a change of much appreciated and needed pace.
Her duties at the school were mainly as resident physician, but she had to play an equally large role as the sympathetic ears for many of the homesick kids.
She had raised her own daughter a little too well in that she was no longer needed as much as she would have liked. So Ravenhill had become her home and these were her children now.
She was on duty today for the rugby match. She always travelled with the team and Mr. Keaton as her skills were more often than not required, especially when facing one of the comprehensive schools.
Rugby was a tough game and made all the more brutal when class warfare raised its ugly head.
The students of Ravenhill were perceived as being snobs and weak-willed because they came from money. But she had found that there were as many good and bad kids on both sides of the fence.
There was a gentle knock on the door and she crossed the room. She opened the door and was surprised at who she found standing there. “Rosa, dear!” she exclaimed. “Where have you been? Everyone was looking for you.”
Rosa answered by entering the room and closing the door quietly behind her.
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Sarah sat at the front of the coach alongside Stuart. The rugby team were full of the boisterous noise borne out of nervous excitement.
Barnaby had pulled her out of class that morning to ask if she would fill in for Hannah Marks as the school nurse was under the weather.
Sarah had collected a string of qualifications along the path of her career, several first aid certificates being among them. Her nights and weekends were occupied by online courses in order to stay her hand from the bottle’s tempting siren call.
She had been surprised to find herself looking forward to the outing. The walls of Ravenhill had started to feel like they were closing in on her lately and a change of scenery might do her some good.
She had been unable to shake the ominous feeling that had settled on her shoulders recently.
A dark cloud had descended and she felt eyes upon her, an intrusion into her carefully constructed solitude.
She’d had the distinct impression the other morning that someone had been in the trees beyond the school, watching her. Then one of the lunch staff had not turned up for work and that was followed by the Vance girl seemingly being snatched from her bed in the dead of night.
However, her fears had receded when the lunch lady was apparently back at work and the Vance girl had merely slipped out for a midnight rendezvous.
Her recent paranoia was unfounded and carried the potential to be harmful.
She remembered the looks that her peers had given her when she had started raging at the cop, only for a silver hip flask to drop from her pocket.
Jemima had been nagging her for an age to come out from her closet and she was starting to think that the young woman might just be right. She would forever be bathed in her guilt, but she had to try and live again before she went mad.
The bus rounded a sharp corner and she felt her knee brush against Stuart’s as they swayed with the motion. She suddenly realised that she was now thinking of him in terms of a first name basis, even if she used the prefix Mr. when she spoke her thoughts aloud.
“It’s great that you could make it,” he said, all too casually. “I was worried when Ms Marks was unable to travel today. I thought that we might have to forfeit because of not being able to bring a medical representative; of course, I was also concerned about Hannah as well,” he added hastily.
“What’s wrong with her?” she asked.
“Just a bit under the weather according to Rosa Marsh, the lunch lady,” he shrugged.
“And where was she hiding? I gather from Mr. Barnaby that the police were out looking for Rosa.”
“I heard that she had a sister who had had
a fall or something. Apparently she left without a word to anyone in somewhat of a panic; it caused quite the stir as the sergeant’s wife was good friends with Rosa and she sent him round to investigate,” Stuart chuckled.
“You’re remarkably well informed for a maths teacher, Mr. Keaton,” she said, raising an eyebrow with a small smile.
“Dora Tibbs proudly explained all the details to me over coffee at break this morning,” he grinned.
“That woman is incorrigible,” she said, shaking her head. “She always seems to delight in revealing just how far up Barnaby’s ass she’s gotten.”
“Ah, but she has her uses; it was she, after all, who told me about your suitability to act as school nurse for this afternoon,” he smiled happily.
Sarah tried to pull back from the conversation which was turning decidedly too friendly for her liking. She felt his confusion as she partially put up the barriers again; Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all.
She heard a loud burst of laughter from the back of the coach and leaned around to find the usual culprits on the back seat.
Alex Thompson was holding court as was his way, surrounded by laughing hyenas baying at his coarse humour.
She felt a little sorry for Deborah Vance, despite her panic-causing antics the other night. She dreaded to think about just what tales young Mr. Thompson was spreading about their evening together.
She made a mental note to have a one-on-one meeting with Deborah later and try and steer the girl onto a better path.
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Alex Thompson bathed in the adulation of his boys. He had told them all about Deborah and just what she had done to him.
Most of his information was based on the stack of porn DVDs that he kept hidden well away, but he was confident that his anatomical knowledge was correct.
He was the kid in school that knew how to get things. It was him that the other guys came to when they needed help with exam papers or a little salacious material.
The new kid, Joshua, was sitting a couple of rows down from the prized back seat and joining in the laughter.
He was starting to wonder if he had been wrong about the guy; maybe he would be an asset and not a threat.