Itch

by Simon Mayo

  ‘Shame,’ she said. ‘What a waste.’

  And all my work, Itch thought grimly. ‘Yeah, you’re right,’ he said as he walked round it, leaving her staring after him. He had to tell Watkins what had just happened with Flowerdew.

  On his way to the staff room, he went to his classroom and found Jack sitting on her desk, chatting with Sam Jennings and her friend Jay Boot. Itch thought that Jay seemed to spend all her time either eating crisps or picking her nose. Today she was managing both, one hand for each.

  Classy, he thought.

  Jack glanced up, caught the look on Itch’s face and excused herself. She slid off the desk and came over. ‘What’s up, Itch?’

  He beckoned her out of the classroom and they walked along the corridor towards the staff room.

  ‘Flowerdew says he’s sent the uranium or whatever it is to Switzerland. He took it home to make it safe, but then decided it should be examined by these labs he knows. I’m going to tell Watkins what’s happened.’

  Jack looked as though she was missing something. ‘Is that so bad? I mean, I know he’s a jerk and everything, but if the labs are as good as he says they are, then maybe—’

  Itch was astonished. ‘The point is, it wasn’t his rock to get rid of. He should’ve put it in his lead box and then told me. And Watkins is still the geologist and not Flowerdew, in case you’d forgotten.’

  They had reached the staff room and Itch knocked loudly, saving Jack from having to reply.

  Hilary Briggs, one of the ICT teachers, put her head round the door.

  ‘I need to see Mr Watkins, please – it’s urgent,’ he told her. She disappeared again, and Itch continued where he had left off. ‘Why would he send it away so quickly? What’s the big hurry?’ He turned to Jack, but she shrugged.

  ‘No idea, but whatever he’s done, it will be for the good of himself, I’m sure.’

  The staff-room door opened again and Mr Watkins emerged. ‘Thought it would be you. What happened with Dr Flowerdew?’ He brought his tea with him as they walked down the corridor towards the entrance, past the head’s office. Itch recounted his morning’s conversation and Watkins listened with raised eyebrows. They pushed through the main door and stood in the sunshine. When Itch had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. Watkins turned to them both, having apparently come to a decision. ‘Leave it with me,’ he said, and set off back to the staff room.

  The heads of geography and science met after school. Watkins had gone looking for Flowerdew earlier but couldn’t find him. At the final bell he had cleared away slowly and, as the last students made their way out of school, headed for Flowerdew’s lab. He only just caught him.

  ‘Need a quick word if you don’t mind, Nathaniel.’

  ‘In a tearing hurry, actually. Can it wait?’ Flowerdew had his briefcase in his hand and his jacket over his shoulder.

  ‘Not really, no. Itchingham Lofte tells me the rock is on its way to Switzerland. An outcome he is very unhappy about – as am I. As his form tutor and his geography teacher, I’m the one he brought it to. You had an appropriate box for its safekeeping, but your jurisdiction finished there. You should have at least discussed this with me.’

  Flowerdew put down his briefcase and removed his jacket, placing it on the desk. For a moment Watkins thought he was about to be hit. Flowerdew was tempted. He stared at Watkins.

  ‘That’s really what this is about, isn’t it?’ said Flowerdew. ‘Your territory, your empire. It’s not about the boy or his rock at all. I’ve done what’s best for the school, Watkins – you know that. Do you think the head needs another “school in peril” story out there? No, of course not. The further that piece of radioactivity is from the CA, the happier she’ll be. Get over it, Watkins.’

  Mr Watkins’s eyes had been getting wider and his mouth more tightly closed as Flowerdew spoke. As usual, he had a biro in his hand, and now he pointed it at Flowerdew’s chest. ‘You’re new here. We all know that. And that’s OK because we all start somewhere. It’s just a shame – for you and for us – that you had to start as head of science. Your inexperience has been obvious from the outset, and never more so than over this business. The plain fact is, this is theft. The stone is Itchingham’s. If Lofte’s family wanted to press charges, they might be successful. And Dr Dart certainly doesn’t need that, either.’

  Both men stood facing each other. A few students and members of staff wandered past, looking in at the windows.

  ‘Well, it’s all out now then, isn’t it?’ said Flowerdew. ‘You’ve never liked me – you’ve always made that very clear – but I thought I could trust your professional judgement. I see now that I was wrong.’ He started to put on his jacket. ‘I am a very well-respected chemist, you know. I have dealt with minerals all my life; I have spoken around the world on the subject, and if I say this stone needs to go to the labs in Switzerland, it does. OK?’

  Watkins took a deep breath. ‘Wrong tense, Nathaniel, wrong tense. You were a respected chemist. Before you got sacked. That is what happened, isn’t it? You don’t leave a high-flying international job for the CA voluntarily. It’s quite obvious you don’t like being here – staff know it, pupils know it. Our assumption in the staff room is that you had something to do with that terrible oil spill. Would that be right? The one off Nigeria that led to the deaths of seventeen oil workers?’ Mr Watkins’s voice had been rising steadily, and Flowerdew’s face drained of colour as he went on, ‘Did you think we didn’t know? Did you think we didn’t connect the name of our sponsor and the name of your old company? You really do think we’re stupid.’

  ‘YES!’ exploded Flowerdew. ‘I DO! This crummy little school is going nowhere! Most of the teaching is second-rate and sometimes third-rate. You wouldn’t believe the level of incompetence I see around me every day. And what passes for informed comment in the staff room is frankly laughable. If you expect me to accept—’

  The door to the lab opened and Dr Felicity Dart appeared. She came in and shut the door behind her.

  Watkins spoke first. ‘Ah, Dr Dart. Do come in. Dr Flowerdew here was just giving me his opinion of the CA. Do go on, Nathaniel – you’d got to the bit about third-rate teaching and general incompetence, I think.’

  Flowerdew had regained some of the colour in his cheeks but that was because he was clearly furious.

  Before he could say anything, Dart held up her hand. ‘No. No. Not here. I will not have two of my most senior staff rowing in a classroom. In my office, now.’ She turned and walked out, leaving Watkins and Flowerdew to follow like two naughty schoolboys.

  ‘I was acting in the interests of the school, Dr Dart. The radioactivity coming off that rock was scary.’

  The head had shown them to her small sofa, so they were sitting uncomfortably close to each other. Flowerdew, now more in control of himself, was leaning forward to argue his case, forcing Watkins to sit back. ‘It needed to be off school premises as soon as possible.’

  Dart nodded. ‘That is very true, and we are very grateful you had a lead box to hand. Not many schools would have been so lucky. But I would have preferred it if you had taken Mr Watkins and Itchingham into your confidence. It might be that these Swiss labs are better equipped than West Ridge, but there’s no getting round the fact that it wasn’t your rock to send in the first place.’ Watkins looked impassive while Flowerdew’s temper was rising again. ‘How long will they need to conduct the tests?’ asked the head.

  ‘I don’t know; it depends what they find.’

  ‘You need to get it back, Nathaniel, as soon as they have completed the tests. And to keep any complaints at bay – I know you were taking something dangerous off the school premises, but sending it abroad was uncalled for since it wasn’t your property – you need to apologize to Itchingham Lofte.’

  There was silence in the head’s office. Then Flowerdew said, ‘Very well,’ and walked out.

  Later that evening, as instructed, Flowerdew picked up the phone and dialled. It rang jus
t the once, and Christophe Revere answered.

  ‘The tests are complete,’ Flowerdew told him. ‘The results are the same. I’ve sent you the data.’

  ‘And the boy? Did you question him?’

  ‘Yes. He got it from this mineral dealer called Cake. He says he doesn’t know where he lives but I’m on it, Christophe – I’ve asked to meet him.’

  ‘We’ll pick up the stone tomorrow. We’ll send a courier. It’ll be our usual firm.’

  Flowerdew smiled. ‘I remember. It’ll be ready. Goodnight, Christophe.’

  9

  LAST PERIOD WEDNESDAY for Itch and Jack was English, with a teacher everyone called the Brigadier. His real name was Gordon Carter but no one used it. His nickname came from his large moustache and the fact that he seemed to want to march everywhere; no one knew whether he had actually been in the army or not. Today they were reading Lord of the Flies, and Itch hated every minute of it. This was partly because he struggled with essays – he always seemed to run out of things to say after the first paragraph – but mostly because it was about bullies. He couldn’t help putting his own class on William Golding’s island. Imagining 9W without a teacher or parents after a plane crash, he knew very well who would be first to be targeted by the class thugs.

  The Brigadier was wrapping things up: ‘Everyone to have finished this book by next week, please. You’ll find it difficult to write the next essay if you haven’t actually read the book. And I can spot a Wiki-cheat too. That is all. You may go.’

  ‘But, sir, the bell hasn’t gone,’ said Sam Jennings.

  ‘You may stay if you wish, but I have finished teaching and you have finished learning.’ He picked up his case and strode out of the room. The class gathered their scattered books and bags and shuffled into the corridor a good three minutes ahead of the rest of the school. The bell rang as they were going down the stairs.

  Itch and Jack waited outside Chloe’s classroom. She came out with two of her friends, but seeing her brother and cousin waiting for her she said goodbye, and the three of them headed out of the reception hall and towards the school gates.

  ‘You coming back for tea, Jack?’ asked Chloe.

  ‘Itch asked me. Tea is part of it; history homework is the rest, I think.’

  ‘I got a bit muddled, that’s all,’ said Itch. ‘Anyway, Jack hasn’t been round for a while.’

  He spotted the usual problem of Bruno Paul, Darcy Campbell and James Potts hanging around by the gates, but they appeared to be studying a new piercing in Darcy’s nose.

  ‘It can only be an improvement,’ said Jack.

  ‘Let’s hope it hurt,’ added Chloe, and the three of them turned out of the gates without being noticed. They headed through town and out towards the golf course.

  ‘I just want to go via the beach huts, if that’s OK,’ Itch said. ‘I need to pay Cake for the rock I don’t have any more. Did you know Flowerdew apologized this morning? Well, sort of. He called me in and said that he realized it would have been better if we had discussed the advantages of sending the rock to Switzerland. Before he actually did it. He clearly hated saying it. Dart must have told him to – he wouldn’t have volunteered.’

  ‘Doesn’t change anything though, does it?’ said Jack. ‘Still means you don’t have it and he does. Or his people do.’

  They had reached the section of the path that ran along the cliff edge, from where they could see the steps and the beach huts.

  Itch squinted in the sunshine. ‘I can’t see him. Maybe he’s asleep in one of the deckchairs.’ They walked off the cliffs and down the paved steps to the huts. A few were occupied with some early holiday-makers brewing tea and reading books, but there was no sign of Cake. Five deckchairs were occupied, none of them by his mineral seller.

  Disappointed, the three of them rounded the corner to take the road home – and practically fell over him.

  Cake was sprawled against the wall of the public toilets. He was bleeding from the mouth and it looked as though he had a few teeth missing. His skin was white and blotchy and he had lost some of his hair. He hadn’t changed his clothes since Itch had seen him last and his T-shirt was stiff with dried blood.

  Jack and Chloe gasped. ‘Cake!’ shouted Itch, and dropped on one knee beside him.

  ‘What happened? Who did this to you?’ asked Jack.

  ‘I should call an ambulance … Lean forward.’ Itch put his sweatshirt behind Cake’s head.

  Cake opened his eyes and croaked, ‘Itchingham Lofte.’ He managed a smile and the bleeding started again. ‘No one did this – don’t call an ambulance.’ He spoke in a half croak, half whisper. ‘I have some information for you, but don’t come too close. I’ll try to speak up a bit.’ He cleared his throat.

  ‘Rest up. We’ll get you a drink.’ Chloe had a bottle of water in her school bag and she passed it to Itch, wide-eyed.

  ‘Here, drink this.’ Itch was going to tip the bottle up into Cake’s mouth but he stopped him.

  ‘Just put it where I can reach it.’ He took the bottle himself and sipped the water. ‘Now, I got stuff to tell you …’

  ‘OK, OK,’ said Itch. ‘But first, that uranium – or whatever it is you gave me – is in Switzerland.’

  Cake winced as he propped himself up. ‘You what?’

  ‘Dr Flowerdew, my chemistry teacher, ran a Geiger counter over it and it went crazy. He took it and sent it to some labs he knows from his old job. Says they’re much better than anything here. It’s caused quite a fuss, actually, but it’s gone, that’s the bottom line.’

  Cake listened in silence and in pain. He swallowed more water and licked his lips. ‘That’s a disaster. A real gold-plated disaster. My God, what do we do?’ He closed his eyes and drew his legs up, then put his arms round them and rocked back and forth.

  Itch, Jack and Chloe looked at each other.

  ‘Well, I’m mad about it, Cake, but why is it such a disaster? Presumably we’ll get the test results through and then the rock will come back …?’

  Cake shook his head. ‘No. No, no, no. It’s never coming back. And Flowerdew … of all people to get their hands on it. How can we have let this happen?’

  Now Jack spoke. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not following this. What’s happened?’

  Cake opened his eyes and turned to look at her. ‘Who’s this, Itchingham?’

  ‘My cousin, Jack. You met her at that Surfers Against Sewage thing at St Austell, remember? When I bought the arsenic. You can trust her.’

  ‘We’ll get you sorted, Cake,’ she said.

  ‘I remember now – a real-life Cousin Jack. You look like … You remind me …’ Cake closed his eyes again and was silent for a moment, lost in some memory. At last he came to. ‘OK. Well, this is where we are. These rocks are different. I’m not sure how, and I certainly don’t know why, but that Geiger-counter reading you saw explains why I’m like this.’

  ‘Whoa, whoa! Wait a minute,’ Itch exclaimed in horror. ‘You’ve got radiation poisoning? This is because of the rock? And you said rocks. You have more of these?’

  Cake started to look agitated. ‘This is all so wrong, so wrong. You kids mustn’t tell anyone at all about this. Anyone. No mates, no parents, no teachers, no police, no government. No one. When word gets out about these rocks – yes, I have a few more – everything is going to change. Everyone will want them, you see. If these are as radioactive as I think they are, everyone will want to get their hands on them: energy companies, politicians, and probably some seriously bad guys.’ He finished the water and dropped the bottle. ‘And, yes, it’s radiation poisoning. That’s why you mustn’t come any closer. My hunch is that my sweat and blood are worth avoiding.’ The cousins glanced at each other and instinctively edged back a centimetre or two. ‘And your man Flowerdew – I’ve heard of him before. I think he used to work for Greencorps. They’re a big multinational energy company – and, well, let’s just say they cannot be trusted; they absolutely cannot be trusted.’ Cake grimaced at his own u
nderstatement. ‘Of all people to get their hands on that rock …’

  ‘Wait,’ said Jack. ‘So if these rocks are so powerful, why haven’t you just got rid of them or handed them in or something?’

  ‘Handed these in to who? No one can be trusted with them, guys. I’m trying to keep them safe and not go near them now, but I might be too late. It took me a while to find a safe container for them but they’re OK for the moment.’

  ‘How do you know about Flowerdew?’

  ‘Oh, news went round pretty quickly – we all heard about him when he came here. I know some of the guys at the mining school, remember?’ Cake started coughing and winced. ‘And your radioactive rock is in a lab in Switzerland …’ He paused. ‘You’re sure of that?’

  Itch shrugged. ‘That’s what he said.’

  ‘Well, he’s moved very fast, then.’

  Cake was speaking more slowly now, and Chloe said, ‘I think we need to get you some help. Why can’t we call an ambulance?’

  ‘I’d never get out of hospital, little sister. I’d never get out. And they’ll want my rocks too. I’d love something to eat, though, and some more water – I’ll be OK if I can get home.’

  Itch took some money out of his pocket. ‘I was going to pay you for the uranium – or whatever it is. It’s all the money I have on me. I could get you some sandwiches from the beach shop – they won’t be up to much, though …’

  ‘They’ll be fine. Yes. Do it. Water and chocolate too.’

  Itch ran off past the toilet block and the bus shelter towards the beach shop.

  Chloe looked as if she had just thought of something. ‘Back in a second,’ she said to Jack, and darted off.

  Cake lay still, with Jack crouched down a couple of metres away. ‘How many rocks are there?’ she asked.