‘Who?’ I asked.
‘Amanda Lawrence. She sent me to get you. Please follow me.’
‘Right,’ I said and stood up.
I followed the girl out of the hall, over a hockey field and across a neat courtyard. A few older girls stood around talking and drinking tea but didn’t seem to notice me pass by. My guide then led me up a double staircase and along a narrow passage with a number of closed doors on either side. It all seemed rather surreal, like I was somehow watching myself from the outside.
I was sure I would be suspended if I were discovered in a girls’ boarding house at ten o’clock in the evening. In fact, considering I’m already on final warning thanks to last year’s Mad House debacle, this may well be enough to see me expelled. The thing was, at that precise moment, I didn’t care a damn.
The girl stopped at a door marked HOUSE LEADER. Underneath was the name AMANDA LAWRENCE (6th Form). The girl knocked timidly but there was no answer. Then she knocked louder and a husky voice called out, ‘Come in, Samantha.’
Samantha opened the door and entered timidly. ‘Spud Milton to see you, Ms Lawrence.’
The husky voice said, ‘Thank you.’ Samantha nodded and then let me in.
Amanda’s ‘study’ was also a bedroom, a kitchenette and a small library. Her walls were painted white with beautifully framed poetry and song lyrics hanging at odd angles. There was also a painting of a naked girl with red hair standing against the trunk of a large tree.
And there she was – Amanda – lying in bed dressed in cream silk pyjamas with her red locks spread across the pile of white pillows that supported her head. Littering the bed were books, files and notepads filled with writing that now seemed as familiar as my own.
And then her wide mouth cracked and suddenly Julia Roberts was smiling at me. There was nothing to be done, except to fall passionately in love with her immediately.
AMANDA Hey, stranger, where’ve you been hiding?
SPUD I was going to ask you the same question.
AMANDA I like the new deep voice.
SPUD Thank you.
AMANDA Is it real?
SPUD (Blushing)Sort of. It comes and goes. But mostly goes.
AMANDA (Laughing) You’re still funny.
SPUD And you’re still …
AMANDA … Beautiful. I know … Take a look at this …
Amanda lifts up her pyjama top and flashes a muscular milky white washboard tummy at Spud.
AMANDA I’ve been going to gym – religiously.
SPUD (More blushing, and sudden unexplained lameness in left leg again) Wow! (Pause, awkward silence. He points to the nude picture of Amanda on the wall.) Nice painting …
AMANDA Thank you. My dad is a brilliant artist.
SPUD Your dad?
AMANDA Don’t be a prude! It’s perfectly natural, you know.
SPUD (In nodding agreement) Of course.
AMANDA How’s the Crazy Eight?
SPUD Simon’s left school, maybe for good.
AMANDA He was the boring guy with blonde hair?
SPUD That’s him. Anyway we now have a new guy. A crazy Malawian called Garlic.
AMANDA Why is he called Garlic?
SPUD Because that’s his name.
AMANDA (Mocking) Of course. (Now looking at Spud directly in the eyes) Why have you come?
SPUD Because you invited me. Why did you invite me?
AMANDA To see if you’d come –
SPUD Well, I did.
AMANDA I can see that. So … how’s life?
SPUD Not bad. I got into A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
AMANDA The Wrexham production?
SPUD I’m spending the third term there.
AMANDA No doubt you’ll fall in love with some stupid simpering girl who thinks you’re marvellous …
SPUD What do you care anyway?
AMANDA Okay, I’m jealous, it’s irrational. Get over it.
Toe-curling pause.
SPUD I’d better go. The bus leaves at 11.
AMANDA Can I at least have a goodnight kiss?
Spud shuffles forward and leans down to kiss Amanda’s cheek. Amanda takes Spud’s head in her hands and kisses him passionately. They stare into each other’s eyes.
AMANDA How wonderful.
SPUD Um, maybe we should –
AMANDA Good to see you again, John Milton.
SPUD Good to see you, too, Ms Lawrence.
Pause.
AMANDA Won’t you close the door on your way out?
SPUD Definitely.
Julia Roberts smiles and Spud limps out of the room, along the passage, down the stairs, and out into the freezing night.
Fade to black.
SCORING SCORECARD
RAMBO Said there was nobody hot enough to get him interested.
GARLIC Kissed a large girl called Myrtle.
BOGGO Disastrous night all round. Handed out 100 business cards and twelve roses, and spent the entire night dancing with Fatty.
FATTY Still hasn’t kissed a girl.
VERN Danced non-stop like a robot for four hours.
SPUD Kissed his ex-girlfriend in her room and may just have fallen in love again for a few minutes.
Wednesday 17th June
Today forty-six people were massacred in Boipatong township in a clash between the ANC and the IFP. Lennox said he heard a foreign observer on the BBC stating that South Africa was experiencing a full blown civil war.
9 days until exams begin
16 days until Mad Dog’s farm!
Friday 19th June
Viking wasn’t impressed with the arrival of the annual NAPAC anti-drugs production. Not only were the actors loud and pretentious but their scenery was also far bigger than expected and the afternoon Dream rehearsals had to be moved off the theatre stage and into Viking’s classroom instead.
20:00 The NAPAC drugs play was dire. The crowd behaved poorly and the show had to be stopped twice because the audience was talking louder than the actors. Why is it that these anti-drugs plays always talk to you like you’re either eight years old or a head case?
CRAZY EIGHT CRITICISMS
SPUD Weak script and dodgy acting (especially from the guy with the lisp). If that’s the standard of professional acting in this country then I’ll be a millionaire by twenty-five! 3/10
BOGGO Lame play, no hot chicks. 0/10
FATTY Identified a strong yet spiritual component in the play. Unfortunately, the play has also made him want to experiment with mind-altering substances. 7/10
GARLIC Said the annual production of Grease in Blantyre, Malawi was far better. 4/10
RAMBO Worst play ever. Reckons that the actors didn’t know what they were talking about. According to Rambo nobody freaks out straight after taking a drag of dope. He said the actors should have at least taken the drugs beforehand, so their performances could be more realistic. 0/10
VERN Made his feelings felt when he set fire to the play programme. 0/10
Saturday 20th June
Mad Dog called and spoke to every single member of the Crazy Eight. He sounded so excited about us all coming up to his farm that he would frequently bark loudly down the line for no apparent reason. He reckons we will have the time of our lives and that he’s going to show us what the African bush is really all about. He then said that he still missed the Crazy Eight and asked me to call Simon to the phone. When I told him that Simon had had a nervous breakdown and left school, he wouldn’t believe me and demanded to speak to Rambo again.
Rambo reluctantly came back to the phone and did a brilliant Sparerib impersonation, which Mad Dog swallowed hook, line and sinker. Rambo (Sparerib) gave poor Mad Dog a long lecture about his poor behaviour during his time at the school. He even accused Mad Dog of bonking his wife. The rest of us sniggered as Rambo held out the phone so that we could hear Mad Dog’s earnest denials and apologies. Rambo then staged a fake tussle in the background and Boggo seized the telephone and began commentating at a loud volume.
>
BOGGO Hey, Mad Dog, it’s Boggo!
MAD DOG Thank God, Boggo! Sparerib has just like shat all over me for the stuff I did at school …
BOGGO Sorry, Mad Dog, I can’t talk. Rambo has just attacked Sparerib.
MAD DOG What?
BOGGO He smashed him in the face. He’s actually drowning him in the urinal as we speak!
MAD DOG You’re joking!
BOGGO Listen …
Boggo holds out phone as Crazy Eight scream loudly and make drowning noises.
MAD DOG Noways! You okes are completely crazy, man! You’ll get expelled.
BOGGO Too late. OOOOHH, that’s a great one, Vern!
MAD DOG Vern?
BOGGO Hit him with a half-brick.
MAD DOG Noways!
BOGGO Spud’s just stuck his knee in Sparerib’s groin. Ah gee, that’s a typically low blow from Milton!
MAD DOG (With rising panic) Hang on, Boggo, this sounds serious. You can’t just beat up a teacher – you guys could get gated and the whole holiday will be cancelled.
BOGGO We couldn’t stand by while Sparerib shat all over you like that – the oke needs to learn some respect. All for one and one for all!
MAD DOG (Sounding a bit desperate) What’s happening now?
BOGGO No, Fatty, put the knife down! He’s not worth it!
MAD DOG (Panicking) It’s fine, Boggo. I don’t need revenge. I wouldn’t have passed matric anyway. Tell them to let him go. No hard feelings.
BOGGO Mad Dog, Sparerib says he’s ready to apologise and he’s coming to the phone …
Sparerib never made it to the phone because Rambo was floored by hysterical laughter. Boggo ended up telling Mad Dog that we had to take Sparerib to hospital and hung up.
The phone rang again and Rambo called Runt out of the common room and ordered him to answer the call.
It was good to see Runt doing fifty press-ups in the phone room again. Mad Dog still hasn’t lost his magic.
18:00 Rambo formally invited Garlic on the holiday to Mad Dog’s farm. The Malawian’s eyes widened and he leapt up and shouted ‘Woo hoo!’ at the top of his voice. He then rushed off to call his mom and ask her to change his flight home for the holidays. I don’t think I can ever remember Garlic being this happy. Unfortunately, this meant that he couldn’t stop jabbering away uncontrollably and firing unnecessary questions at everyone while we were trying to swot for exams.
Sunday 22nd June
Pike’s back from suspension. He seemed to be in high spirits because he chased Meg Ryan’s Son along the cloisters with a screwdriver. Whiteside halted Pike’s rampage and asked him why he was in the vicinity of the house. Pike gave our head of house the middle finger and disappeared through the archway with a sneering face.
Exams begin tomorrow. Seven days of hell coming up!
Swatting fever is upon us. The school is like a morgue as everybody crams in as much useless information as possible. Tempers are frayed and Garlic has been banned from asking questions because Rambo says it undermines school spirit. Boggo is also grafting extremely hard for a man claiming to have illegal copies of all our exam papers.
Overall, I’m not too worried about anything except Maths, which has to be the most pointless subject ever conjured up by educators.
Wish me luck!!
Tuesday 30th June
Can’t write much because my hand is throbbing from seven days of furious scribbling. My right hand has taken on the appearance of a nasty claw, riddled with paper cuts and badly chewed down nails. My handwriting is completely shot and my brain is so heavy with jumbled facts and figures that it has to be rested on a soft pillow at all times. The thought of our Crazy Eight bush experience has seen me through from the beginning. I feel ready to set free my inner monster.
Wednesday 1st July
Mad Dog called and asked to speak to Rambo. Rambo spent nearly an hour on the line to Mad Dog and scribbled down a series of notes on the back of an exam pad.
Apparently Mad Dog was hugely relieved that Sparerib hadn’t been smashed to death with a brick. Rambo assured him that he was fine and that everything had been smoothed over. Mad Dog said he’s been having sleepless nights about the Crazy Eight being gated for murdering Sparerib.
Great news is that Dad Dog has come up with a surprisingly brilliant idea. In return for working one day on his citrus farm, we don’t have to pay a cent for our holiday. All we have to do is sign a temporary worker’s slip and Dad Dog will write our holiday off to tax and simultaneously schnaai the tax man! Dad Dog is even sending down a truck to pick us up from the bus stop in Johannesburg.
Fatty and Boggo weren’t very impressed with having to labour on their holiday, while Garlic was so excited about the idea of farming that he lost control and asked three questions in quick succession and was promptly hurled in the fountain.
Mad Dog says we are certain to have the best week of our lives and he’s hidden two crates of beer and a carton of cigarettes in a secret location for an almighty thrash in the bush.
I’m already packed! The money thing is a huge relief. Dad was meant to have given me cash at the long weekend but said that he’d poured everything into Frank’s pub. He promised he would ‘wire’ money through to me (?) but so far I haven’t seen a cent. The thought of borrowing from Rambo or Boggo meant that I would then owe them something.
As my grandmother frequently says, ‘There is nothing funny about having no money.’
Thursday 2nd July
06:20 Mom called to remind me about Wombat’s birthday and made me write down the number for Guinea’s Rest. She then asked if I knew about Dad’s pub. She sounded furious and on the verge of interrogating me so I told her that I was late for roll call and hung up.
14:00 FINAL REHEARSAL OF THE TERM: Looks like nobody has learned their lines apart from Vern, who made a great show of throwing his script down on the front of the stage as if he no longer needed it. The fact that the idiot only has six lines in the entire play didn’t prevent him from looking incredibly smug and walking around like he was carrying two surfboards under each arm. Viking wasn’t impressed with our words not being learned and said if the play were really important to us we would have sacrificed our exams to study up on The Dream instead!
After the rehearsal Viking gave us a sheet of paper detailing all the items we will need next term when we arrive at Wrexham College. He then handed out another page, which was a code of conduct stapled to the Wrexham College school rules.
‘Learn these, gentlemen,’ shouted Viking, ‘because if you so much as step out of line I’ll be dealing with you personally!’ He then wished us a good holiday and said if we didn’t return from the holiday word perfect, he would bury us alive and screaming in his empty swimming pool. ‘I have access to the school bulldozer,’ he roared with spittle clinging to his beard. Even The Guv looked afraid.
16:50 Called Wombat to wish her Happy Birthday. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to know who I was and told me all about her brain damaged son-in-law and grandson in prison. She rambled on about crime running rampant at Guinea’s Rest and accused Regina, her nursemaid, of stealing her unit trusts. I used Mom’s system of repeating ‘I know, it’s shocking!’ every thirty seconds or so and it worked like a charm.
22:30 Whiteside took great pleasure in sending Pike back to his house after busting him horsing around in the Normal Seven dorm. Pike apparently swore and spat at Whiteside who in turn threatened to run him in to Viking and get him expelled. Looks like the cage doors are closing in on the school vermin.
Can’t sleep. Truly excited about hitting the road and chasing the sun northwards to the great outdoors. Then there is also the whirring fantasy about arriving at Wrexham next term to the welcome of a long snaking line of the most beautiful girls in the country.
Friday 3rd/Saturday 4th July
Assembly: The Glock wished the cast of A Midsummer Night’s Dream a successful stay at Wrexham College next term before launching into a ten-minute tirade about obe
ying their rules and regulations and flying the flag for our school. My feet were tapping and not a minute ticked by without me noticing.
And then we were running and pushing and mocking down the driveway to where a bus waited to take us to Johannesburg.
Unfortunately, that’s where the excitement stopped. The 7hr 42 min bus ride to the City of Gold never seemed to end. The further we travelled, so the landscape became increasingly dry, flat and ominous. All I can say is thank God I don’t live in the towns of Warden, Villiers or Benoni! Everybody listened to their Walkmans or stared out at the burnt veld and everything was silent apart from the loud roar of the engine and the shrill squeaking that came from my seat every time I tried to get more comfortable. Slowly the great mine dumps appeared like humungous warts growing out of the scarred landscape as we approached the big city.
17:00 We stumbled off the bus at Zoo Lake in the northern suburbs of Jo’burg. Everywhere were pretty moms with beautiful clothes and blonde hair and smart looking men in suits, leaning nonchalantly against the bonnets of their fancy cars.
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