Now several pupils held out their hands and amid exclamations and laughter they each held a vile brown creature. Alison, at their table, was obviously up for it, but Alison wasn’t afraid of anything. Cat wished she wasn’t sitting at her table, though at least she was at the far end of it. Cat, Bethan and some others stayed quiet and waited for it all to be over.
Cat concentrated on breathing, slow and deep.
Why would anyone want to do this? The horrible thing sat there, antennae waving, crouched on tiny legs. When Professor Bryden touched the shiny brown back, a sizzling noise came like cold water poured on a hot roasting tray and everyone shrieked.
Miss Bleakney noticed Cat and her friends sitting silently. “Girls, none of you want a go? Any of you? You might regret it if you don’t.”
That seemed exceptionally unlikely.
“Yeah, come on!” said some of the boys.
“Go on! You’re not scared, are you?” It was Danny. And even if he didn’t say so, she knew it was directed at her.
“No, Danny. But just because you can have a deep and meaningful relationship with beetles, doesn’t mean we all have to,” Cat said. He shrugged.
“OK, I will,” said Emily.
Traitor! Ailsa held her hand up too, of course. And Amrit, who didn’t like to be left out of anything.
With any luck they’d all be bored after that. Or the lesson would end or something. Cat sneaked a look at the clock. Still twenty minutes left. Too long.
Cat realized something then. There was only one way to deal with this. Only one way to get Danny off her back. She would have to pretend not to mind. No, she wouldn’t actually volunteer to touch the thing, but if she got as close as she could, made every possible effort to look as though she didn’t mind, Danny would see that this wasn’t something he could get her on.
Professor Bryden was coming towards them with his plastic box full of disease-ridden, pointless bark impersonators, followed closely by Miss Bleakney. At that moment, Cat could willingly have strangled Miss Bleakney with her own over-long hair. Look at her: smiling away as though this was just the most exciting biology lesson in the whole history of biology lessons.
Here he was. Cat craned her neck, pretending to be interested.
Professor Bryden stood between her and Bethan, just behind them. He smelled sickly – old-mannish and unwashed – as he leant between them to put the box on the table. He wore a brown tweedy jacket, with baggy pockets.
He reached his hand towards the box and the smell of his jacket caught in her throat. He really was a horrible little man. There was something definitely creepy about him. She was sure he’d looked at her when he’d been walking towards them. Did he sense her fear?
“They’re quite cute,” she said lightly, as he brought one out and placed it on the back of his hand and she tried not to shrink from him. They weren’t cute, not even a little bit. They were disgusting. They looked artificial. Their only skill was in looking like a piece of rotten bark. They couldn’t fly, or build webs, or migrate to South Africa, or do anything vaguely clever.
“Well?” said Professor Bryden to Emily. “Are you ready?”
Emily nodded, her face a mixture of excitement and fear. She looked like someone who has just chosen to skydive and is regretting it but going to do it anyway.
“Hold out your hands. Nice and steady.” And the whole class watched while Emily did.
Cat struggled to stay in control, to stop her eyes and head buzzing with dizziness. She didn’t think she could speak. The thing was so close. And about six centimetres long. It raised its shell a little, and it was all she could do not to gasp. Professor Bryden put a small piece of apple a little way in front of its mouth and it began to walk slowly across Emily’s hand towards it.
Emily squealed, “Euuch, it’s tickling! It’s horrible!”
It was indeed horrible. How on earth could anyone find it anything other than horrible? It was disgusting and also incredibly boring. Cat felt trapped by both the disgustingness and the boringness of this thing. She made a vow there and then to give up biology at the very earliest opportunity. What was the point in devoting precious hours to studying such a stupid subject?
The world was extremely badly designed sometimes.
Presumably her parents had both had to study insects since they must both have done biology. But what was the point even for them? Did any one single thing about cockroaches come into their work? Mind you, madness and insects couldn’t be that far apart. She thought of Danny and his collection. Probably he’d end up as one of her mother’s patients.
“OK, my turn,” said Ailsa, way too keen for Cat’s liking.
“It’s cute,” lied Cat, fixing a smile on her face with a huge effort. “I like its kind of shiny shell.”
“And no wings, you note,” said Professor Bryden.
Surely this was nearly over now?
Over Professor Bryden’s shoulder, Cat could see Danny. Smiling at her. Grinning. He mouthed something at her. One word. Nothing particularly bad. But enough.
Loser.
She could not let that go.
CHAPTER 12
DEATH
CAT’S mouth was dry and she felt the beginning of true panic. She wished she could be somewhere else. Anywhere. Everyone was looking at her, waiting for her. She had no choice. Well, she could scream and leave the room, but she’d never live it down.
“OK,” she said. “No big deal. I’ll hold it. After you, Ailsa.”
“No, go on, you go first,” said Ailsa. Grinning. Probably just a game to her – nothing malicious – but Ailsa didn’t know how hard this was. That it was serious; that Cat’s skin was crawling at the thought of touching this creature.
There was no point in postponing it – it was like jumping into cold water: you just had to do it without thinking too much.
It required every effort to force her hands out in front of her. Emily began to move her hands towards Cat, to pass the thing over. Slowly. No problem. Well, yes, a problem, but not an impossible one.
What happened next? When Cat thought about it afterwards, she couldn’t quite decide. It was as though someone jogged Ailsa and she in turn knocked the box with the other cockroaches, which Professor Bryden had put on the table; and at exactly the same time, just as Cat’s eyes were drawn suddenly to the box, she saw that two insects had half crawled out of it. Some of the other pupils must have seen this at the same time, because a couple of them shrieked. Emily’s hands came quickly towards Cat, opening as she tried to drop her cargo as fast as possible, but Cat wasn’t ready. She panicked.
Unable to stop herself, she flung her arm out in self-defence. It was a reflex action, something Miss Bleakney had told them about, designed to save you from a deadly enemy.
So Cat’s hand hit the insect with the power of a squash racquet. Emily squealed and pushed her seat back. The insect ricocheted violently off the hard table and flew with huge force onto the floor. People screamed. Cat couldn’t see the creature as she was on the other side of the table, but from the sound everyone was making, it was injured. She thought cockroaches were meant to be indestructible. Professor Bryden had already been going on about that.
“Ergh, that’s horrible!” said Alison.
“Do something!” said Bethan.
“Aw, the poor wee thing. Help it someone!”
Professor Bryden rushed round to that side, with a kind of strangled moan. He looked at it. Cat moved so she too could see it. The creature limped away, some of its legs damaged, lopsided now, leaning like a broken toy. Cat felt sick. But it wasn’t her fault – she hadn’t asked to hold the thing.
“Someone pass my bag,” ordered Professor Bryden, his voice tight.
Miss Bleakney hurried to fetch it. Otherwise she was no use at all. She flapped about, trying to get the pupils back to their seats. But she had little success, since this was about the most interesting thing that had happened in a biology lesson since The Explosion, an incident that did not appe
ar in the school prospectus.
With pain on his face, Professor Bryden opened his bag, his movements quick and fluid. He seemed to be making soothing noises towards the creature. He took a brown bottle from his bag. And a glass jar with something white at the bottom.
“Stand back!” he ordered. And when no one did, he raised his voice, shrill now. “Stand back, I said!”
He knelt down beside the patient. Pulled thin rubber gloves onto his hands, flexing his fingers. Tried to open the glass jar. But the lid was too tight and his hands were old-looking, slightly twisted and knobbly as though with arthritis.
“I’ll do it, Sir,” said Marcus.
“No, you won’t. Thank you,” muttered the man. Grimacing with effort, he eventually managed to get the lid off and he then opened the brown bottle. In the lid was a dropper. “Stand back further!” he ordered. Holding it as far as he could from his face, he squeezed the dropper, gathering up some of the liquid in the bottle. He began to drip the clear fluid into the glass jar, where it landed on the hard white substance at the bottom. Carefully, he replaced the lid on the bottle, but not before one drop had landed on the floor. Without fuss, he wiped it with his gloved finger.
“Stand back!” shouted Miss Bleakney now, as if she realized that this could be a dangerous chemical.
Quickly, but gently, he lifted the struggling insect. It hissed viciously as he lowered it into the jar and finally screwed the lid on. In another swift movement, he peeled the gloves from his hands and put them in the hazardous waste container that Miss Bleakney held out for him.
The insect became still. The man put the jar away in his bag, along with the brown bottle.
“Back to your seats everyone,” said Miss Bleakney. She was tight-lipped.
As for Professor Bryden, he looked furious. He was no longer just a silly little man with a shiny head. His eyes were venomous as he looked around the faces: faces that all looked at him.
Silent faces. Of pupils who did not know what to say or think. A strange tension settled on them, a trapped energy, excitement mixed with horror. Cat felt exposed, guilty, yet angry too.
“That should never have happened,” said Professor Bryden, his voice menacing. “That insect need not have died, not at all. Why you need to be frightened of a tiny insect, I simply have no idea. Clearly it had more cause to be frightened of you. And yet it was not. How does that make you feel?” He looked around. Cat was sure he looked mostly at her.
“Quite,” said Miss Bleakney. “But they are only young. Perhaps we…” She stopped. “Now, everyone, I think we should thank Professor Bryden very much for coming in and sharing his knowledge with us.” And she started vigorous clapping. The noise of applause rose strangely into the room, shattering the tension, and now scattered laughter broke out. Miss Bleakney shouted above the noise.
“Quiet, please! Quiet! Marcus, please go to 4M and tell them that they may not come to the lab until I say so. And Rebecca, please go and get one of the cleaners – tell them there’s been a chemical spillage. Quickly, please. No, don’t be silly, Josh, we’re not all doomed. It’s just a precaution.” She ushered them out of the room as fast as possible.
This incident quickly spread around the school. Opinion was divided. For some, the man was a creep and should never have brought live insects into the class. But on several occasions during the morning break, pupils in the year below called Cat a murderer. Why her? Why not whoever had jogged Ailsa, or Emily who’d thrown the creature towards her when she wasn’t ready?
Cat’s friends stuck up for her. The others who’d been in the class didn’t care much whose fault it was. After all, it had been an exciting lesson and something to talk about. And it was only an insect. Danny? He grinned and looked her way at every opportunity. He was thoroughly enjoying himself.
Cat just wanted the day to end.
“Don’t worry. They’ll soon forget about it,” said Marcus. Marcus was sensible like that. And Cat knew he was right. Bethan and Ailsa stayed with her all through school, and she was glad of their loyalty, even though Bethan was somewhat exaggerating the drama of the situation. And Emily had said sorry, though it wasn’t her fault either – Cat knew she would have done just the same.
Then, of course, there were the rumours. Rebecca said she’d seen Professor Bryden coming out of the head’s office, looking furious. One rumour said he was crying. Alison was sure she’d seen him wiping his eyes. When a police car was seen in the school grounds, he’d obviously been arrested. When no one could be sure that they’d seen him in the car, he’d obviously escaped and was now on the run, a dangerous criminal. No matter that the school secretary laughed and said that the police had only been there because they were doing a talk to the juniors: that was obviously a cover-up. One rumour said that Miss Bleakney was going to be sacked. She’d been seen coming out of the head’s office too. By the end of the day, Professor Bryden was definitely a paedophile with a criminal record, and a murderer too, a poisoner.
Then there was a rumour that the chemical was chloroform. It put you to sleep, everyone said. It was dangerous. The rumours said it was banned by the government and they might all get cancer. The school should be evacuated.
Isabel even said she felt sick. Mind you, Isabel often felt sick. It got her out of all sorts of things. She was weedy. Fragile. Needed, frankly, to get a life. But then Bethan said she’d felt sick too. When she thought about it, so had Cat, but she didn’t think it was the chemical.
Cat couldn’t shake the incident from her mind. Her skin crawled when she thought of it.
At the end of school, instead of going home with the others as usual, she made some excuse, something about going back to fetch a book. Instead, she went to the biology lab. Knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Miss Bleakney was there, packing her books into a bag. She looked up when Cat came in.
“What can I do for you, Catriona?” Her voice had a touch of frost. She looked tired, too, her make-up almost all dissolved into the sweat of the day.
“I came to say I’m sorry about what happened,” said Cat. “I couldn’t help it. I really hate insects and I thought it was going to land on me when…”
Infuriatingly, Cat felt tears pricking behind her eyes. How stupid! But it had been a hard day. Everything going wrong. And the weekend too. Phiz and the athletics stuff. Life running away from her. Suddenly, she felt weighed down, emotional. With a deep breath, she forced it away.
Miss Bleakney smiled at her, though somewhat weakly. “It wasn’t your fault, Catriona. I take responsibility. Professor Bryden is not used to talking in schools. He should not have had … well, I should have stepped in earlier. I’m just relieved no one… Anyway, no harm done, eh? Now don’t be upset, and don’t think any more of it. Off you go.”
And Cat did, at least partly relieved.
She would put it from her mind.
It was only an insect. Really no big deal. No harm could come from its death.
CHAPTER 13
HUMILIATION
BACK in his home, he fumes and shakes, unable to keep still. He had almost been knocked down while riding home on his bicycle, so preoccupied had he been. So angry, so ashamed.
It is all that girl’s fault. Stupid little fool. With her pretty eyes and big hair and make-up. What was she doing in a biology lesson with her hair all dangerously loose round her face like that? Didn’t schools have rules any more?
Pathetic, she was, with her fear of his insects. A huge human with clodhopping feet, who could kill an insect with one swat – and actually had, come to think of it, or more or less. Injured it anyway. He’d only asked her to hold it, for goodness’ sake. In fact, he’d only been trying to help her. He’d seen the fear on her face. He’d thought how good it would be if he could cure her fear. And when he’d tried to, it had all gone wrong.
And the ethyl acetate. How could they criticize him for using it? They didn’t know anything about it. It wasn’t even particularly dangerous to humans or not i
n those small quantities. He is one of the most experienced scientists ever likely to set foot in that school, accustomed to working with such a chemical; has used it all his working life; has a licence for it, for crying out loud!
Well, had a licence. Yes, it was technically out of date, but does that really matter? He is an eminent scientist. Yes, retired, but once a scientist always a scientist. You don’t lose all your knowledge just because you retire through ill health.
He paces up and down the room. Panic is beginning to rise in his chest. Breathe, breathe, breathe. That’s what his doctor said all those years ago. Breathe slowly and the feelings of panic will go away.
But he is so angry. Justifiably. He’d had to sit in that head teacher’s office and watch her as she told him that the incident was unfortunate and that her first concern was her pupils’ safety. She appreciated, she’d said, that he was not acquainted with the modern rules of engagement with children, and she felt a degree of responsibility, she’d added, and regretted that the biology teacher had not asked him for an Enhanced Disclosure and certain assurances before his visit.
“Enhanced Disclosure?” he’d asked.
“Yes, CRB Disclosure, you may have heard it called. You know…”
“CRB?” he’d asked, none the wiser.
“Criminal Records Bureau. It’s—”
“Criminal! What on earth do you mean by criminal? I am no criminal!” He had spat the words at her, blazing, bitter fury boiling inside.
“No, no, no, of course,” she’d replied hurriedly. “It doesn’t imply that at all – really it doesn’t. It’s a legal part of the procedure for making sure that all adults who come in contact with our pupils are appropriate. It’s very—”
“Do you think I am not appropriate? Do you think I wished them any harm? I tried to educate them, and you stand there accusing me of…”
“You brought a dangerous chemical into the class,” she’d said, frostily. “Subject to restricted use. Not for use within a school classroom, with no appropriate procedures being followed.”
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