‘Very well. We can forget that, then. I’ve got the timetables here. If anyone has any problems with them, don’t bother me. I’ve got enough on my plate already without getting myself in a lather over what you lot want. Sort it out between yourselves. I’ll leave it to you, Forster, to sort out the rest of it all. You’re Form Captain and so forth? Yes. Well, I’ve got to sort out the Cadets right now. The only bloody thing worth dealing with in this whole bloody school. Forster, five sharp this evening, you hear me?’ And without waiting for an answer he was gone, slamming the door behind him so hard that a little spurt of dust lifted from the floorboards in front of it.
‘A charming creature, is he not?’ Harry Forster was back in character now, and came to the front of the room and with a wicked mimicry of Staveley’s attempts to be lissom lifted himself on to the desk as easily as if he’d drifted there. ‘Now, my dear young ladies, let me introduce us all, hmm? You must then introduce yourselves. You can have no idea with what eagerness, not unmixed with trepidation, we have looked forward to this day. To have females amongst us in this cruelly misogynistic place — it promises us so much! And now we have had the chance to observe you, why, our trepidation vanishes like a puff of wind and we are left all eagerness. You are precisely what the apothecary ordered.’
‘He’ll burst if he goes on like this,’ someone said. ‘Listen, don’t you think you should tell us your names? Then we’ll know where we are.’
The blonde opened her mouth eagerly but Dilly got in first. ‘I’d have thought it was better manners for you to tell us who you are first,’ she said waspishly. ‘Seeing we’re the new arrivals. And seeing we’ve been fairly thoroughly insulted already and it’s not half past nine yet.’
‘The lady speaks aright!’ declaimed Harry. ‘Oh, all right, all right!’ as someone aimed a kick at him. ‘I’m Harry Forster. English, History and French. President of the Drama Society, clarinet in the school jazz combo, Captain of Cadets and all round young marvel. These twits are Richard and Robert Carter, the unholy twins, same subjects as mine but utterly repellent with little in their heads apart from rugger in the winter and cricket in the summer. A real load of balls, believe me. This is Vivian Botham, who is —’
‘Arse, Arse, Arse!’ several of the other boys chanted and Dilly looked over her shoulder at the boy beside whom Harry was now standing, with a hand on one of his shoulders. He looked back at her with a face quite smooth of any expression and Dilly managed to nod at him and smile. He was a very small boy, she decided, and then realized that half the problem was that he was standing beside Harry, who had to be at least six foot two. He’s about five six, she thought. Shorter than me. Poor little devil. Arse — no wonder, with a name like Botham. This time she did smile at the silent Botham, embarrassed by her own thoughts, but he stared impassively back and said nothing.
‘I’m Gillian.’ The blonde girl got to her feet and moved away from the others to stand with her back to the big desk, leaning slightly backwards. She’s not just endowed with bloody hair, Dilly thought irritably, gazing at her, she must be a 38D if she’s an inch. And no bloody waist to speak of. I hate her. ‘Gillian Brownlow. I’m doing English, History and Music. I do hope we’re all going to be friends.’
The room seemed to rearrange itself as everyone in it began to move and start talking; several of the boys made for Gillian, who stood and smiled at them and said very little, just looking from one to the other contentedly, and the girl on her other side, who had long sleek dark hair, and, now Dilly could see her face clearly, was obviously an Oriental of some kind, made for the twins as Dilly herself stood and watched them all, her face a little twisted.
Harry came and stood beside her. ‘And you are?’ he said invitingly.
‘A female,’ she snapped. ‘So get your patronizing over nice and quick, hmm? Then I can get on with what I’m here for.’
‘Ah!’ he said softly and smiled even more widely. ‘At last! Someone I can relate to. Another of a beleaguered minority! Welcome to Chauvinist Towers, my dear girl. They’ve had a great time so far with just a couple of niggers like me and a handful of Asians and Jews. Now they can get to work on you women too; it’ll take the heat off the rest of us, perhaps? A delicious thought!’
She looked at him. ‘If it’s that sort of place then why do you stay?’
‘Because I’m not the sort of person to run! My dear, they can sneer till they’re blue, but they can’t touch me. I’ve got more charisma than any other chap in the school, don’t you know?’ Again his accent changed subtly and she stared at him, fascinated in spite of herself. ‘The Head’s madly grateful to me — wheels me out whenever the Labour brass comes sniffing round from the Town Hall, proving to ’em he’s as liberated as they are by having me here, and half the school’s in love with me even if the other half wants to bring in the Ku Klux Klan to lynch me. But those little ones in the third and fourth!’ He gave a deep theatrical sigh. ‘My dear, such a burden and such a responsibility! But one does one’s best!’
She stared at him. ‘Do you ever stop putting on an act?’
‘Hardly ever,’ he said. ‘So boring to be ordinary, don’t you think? I do. What’s your name?’
‘Dilly Langham,’ she said after a moment. ‘If it’s any of your concern.’
‘It’s easier to say than “hey you”,’ he said a little absently. ‘Dilly — an odd name.’
She reddened. ‘I can’t help it. It wasn’t my choice.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. One can always change what one doesn’t like.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said bitterly. ‘Just like that. Try it on my father.’
‘Point taken. Parents are hell. So what are you doing? Let me have a go: not the sciences, I don’t think, you wouldn’t be here if you were interested. We’ve got the lousiest labs this side of the Mile End Road and you can’t say worse than that. English? Yes. Art — you look bad-tempered enough to be one of the arty lot. And History, I’ll bet. Eng. History. That’s why you looked at poor old Staveley like he was a heap of shit. Don’t worry. He’s not as bad as he tried to pretend. Just the average sort of ass, really. Am I right?’
‘Not completely,’ she snapped. ‘I’m doing French too.’
‘Four As! There’s posh!’ He sounded Welsh now.
‘Why shouldn’t I? Does it put you out in some way?’
‘Oh, not i’ the world, ma’am, not i’ the world!’ he said airily. ‘I’m glad you’re here. You could be worth fighting with. Got a bit of muscle. The rest of ’em don’t look too promising. Except perhaps the Malaysian piece. Another beleaguered minority. Better and better.’
‘You’re a bloody offensive bastard,’ Dilly said with a sudden flare of anger. ‘Where do you get off calling people names?’
‘Names? When did I call anyone a name, for God’s sake?’ He looked genuinely bewildered. ‘I know it’s tough coming to somewhere new, but you don’t have to come on quite so bitchy.’
‘She’s not a piece! She’s a girl, for God’s sake,’ Dilly snapped.
He looked blank and them made a small grimace. ‘Thou speak’st aright, I was indeed in error. Mea culpa, mea culpa —’
‘Oh, piss off,’ Dilly snapped and moved away from him. ‘I’ve got better things to do than play your stupid games. If you want to talk to me, talk properly. Then maybe I’ll be interested.’
‘Oh,’ he said and stood and watched her as she went over to the desk to look over shoulders at the timetables Staveley had left for them. And then moved quietly away. She felt him go and was absurdly pleased with herself. What a dickhead, she jeered inside her head. Completely.
Beside her the Oriental girl murmured, ‘Are you doing sciences or arts?’
‘Arts,’ Dilly said. ‘You?’
‘Maths and Physics.’ She was gloomy. ‘I told my father it was stupid sending me here. You ought to see the labs — diabolical.’
‘So I’ve been told. I’m Dilly Langham.’
‘Bonnie Ching.’ She he
ld out one hand. ‘I thought this party ought to be fun, for sure. Not too sure now. That Staveley …’
‘Yeah. Bad news. Have to see how it goes.’
‘No women staff either?’
‘I don’t know. Haven’t seen any.’
‘Christ,’ Bonnie said feelingly. If there was just one woman in the staffroom it’d help. Can you imagine how it’s going to be?’
‘I knew before I got here. But they never listen, do they?’
Bonnie knew at once. ‘Parents,’ she said heavily.
‘Yeah. Parents.’
There was a little silence and then Bonnie said, ‘That poor devil — imagine being called Arse.’
‘Sort of thing boys would come up with,’ Dilly said, and glared over her shoulder at one of the boys who had pushed past her a little more roughly than she thought he should. ‘Can’t keep their minds above their bloody navels.’
‘Or ours,’ Bonnie murmured. ‘I like the look of Harry, though. Did you ever see anyone so gorgeous? Sort of a cross between Richard Gere and Eddie Murphy. Nearly as funny too.’
‘And doesn’t he know it,’ Dilly said. ‘I’m blowed if I’m going to fall for that one. Pretty or not.’
Bonnie nodded, her face alert and smiling. ‘I thought you liked him.’
‘I’m going to look around. I’ve got a free period now, according to this timetable. What about you?’ Ignoring any talk about Harry Forster seemed the best thing to do.
‘Got to go to the Physics lab to get equipment sorted out. See you later, maybe.’
‘Yeah.’ Dilly turned for the door.
‘You’re doing Art as well,’ a breathless voice said in her ear. ‘Do you mind if I stick with you for a bit? Don’t know anyone, you see …’
Dilly looked at the girl who was now standing with one rather hot hand on her arm. ‘None of us does,’ she said a little sharply. ‘You can if you like.’
‘Oh, thanks. It’s so awful being on your own. I — it bothers me and you look sort of — and you’re doing Art and French as well as me and —’
‘Yes, well, I suppose. Look, I’m going around the school now for a look around. I’ll be back later. Talk about it then —’
‘I’m Genevieve Barratt,’ the girl said quickly, not letting go of Dilly’s arm, and peering up at her anxiously. ‘Please call me Jenny. And please, don’t make me wait here on my own. I really don’t think — I mean, it’s a little bit — isn’t it?’
Dilly stopped and stared down at her, frowning. The girl looked harmless enough, if a bit of a wet, and maybe she’d turn out to be worth knowing; but right now, Dilly had a deep need to get away from all of them. The noise in the sixth-form room was loud and getting louder and she needed some air as well as comparative quiet.
‘Oh, well, if you must,’ she said then. ‘We’ll find the library for you, all right? Then I’ll go and look around a bit and you check out the books there. Then we can compare notes.’ The idea grew on her and she became a little more cheerful. ‘Yeah, that’s what we’ll do. Compare notes. Come on. This place is driving me bananas.’
And she pushed out of the form room as a loud bell rang in the corridor outside and the sound of running feet signalled that the day had started in earnest for the Foundation and its seven hundred pupils.
Five
What a wally, thought Dilly disgustedly. First day here, and so far she hadn’t seen anyone worth talking to. Except perhaps Harry Forster; but that was a thought not worth thinking, she told herself fiercely, so she wouldn’t think it. Instead she glared at the man and told herself again, What a wally. But she knew she was kidding herself. Really the Headmaster was gorgeous. Tall and sleek with the sort of hair that shone grey but was thick and springing like a child’s even though he wore it brushed back hard, and a face that looked like a real-life version of the drawings of the heroes in the comic books they all used to read when she was in the fourth form at St Aloysius. Not that she’d read them herself, of course, perish the thought; but she hadn’t been able to help seeing them when everyone else read them. And here she sat staring at a man who looked just like the Kevins and Nigels and Malcolms in the cartoons, only older and more intense, with a square chin with a cleft in it and a strong jawline and deep dark eyes, the whole bit. He had to be a wally.
He was standing now looking round at them all with a hint of a smile on his face and she noticed the way his glance lingered on Gillian and was even more disgusted. Wasn’t it bad enough the whole bloody sixth form had fallen into instant lust with Gillian? Did he have to look at her like that, as though his eyes were dribbling over her? Sickening wally, not just an ordinary one. A sickening one.
‘You can’t imagine how excited everyone is,’ he said, and his voice was gorgeous too. Rich, but not heavy, almost like the way Harry Connick sang, only English of course. ‘This school is four hundred years old and you are the first women to set foot over the threshold. As pupils, that is.’
Clever sod, Dilly thought, trying very hard to dislike him. Calling us women. And she saw Bonnie Ching beside her relax and look admiringly at him and knew she herself would be the next to slide under his spell, unless she was very careful.
‘Now, it won’t be easy for you. We — the men here — will need time to get used to having you around and I dare say some of us’ll behave oddly until we do. Not sure whether to fuss over you or ignore you.’ He smiled devastatingly, looking directly at Gillian again. ‘So please be patient. Eventually we’ll all learn to regard you as people first and as women second. Though I doubt we’ll ever be able totally to ignore your femininity. I apologize in advance for that to the more — um — severe of the feminists among you …’
This time he caught Dilly’s eye and she tried not to scowl at him, working hard on keeping her face looking ordinary, and she must have succeeded because his gaze moved on to Bonnie. ‘But thus the world wags and why should we here at the Foundation be any different? Feeble men, all of us …’ And the smile appeared again and this time everyone laughed, and Dilly thought furiously, Tittering idiots!
‘Now, we do want you to fit in as just a normal part of the school, but we also realize that as women you do have a few special needs. Not least of which is someone of your own sex to talk to from time to time, apart from each other. So, let me introduce you to another new arrival at the Foundation, Mrs Clements. She’s your own particular member of staff here to advise and guide you on anything that worries you.’
Mrs Clements looks all right, Dilly thought, staring at her judiciously. Tall, well-cut dark hair, just enough make-up to look like a person without going over the top, a good suit in a rich russet that went well with the yellow shirt she wore under it, and a friendly face. About thirty-fiveish? Probably.
Mrs Clements was looking at the Headmaster in some alarm. ‘Er, Dr Roscoe,’ she began and he lifted his brows at her and she reddened slightly. ‘Headmaster, may I just make the point that I don’t yet know all there is to know about the way the school is run, so I might be a bit of a broken reed at first —’
‘Not to worry,’ he said and smiled at the girls. ‘You may not know all the answers, but you know a man who does.’ And again the girls giggled. ‘Treat me like the A A man in the advertisement, Mrs Clements. If one of the girls has a question you can’t answer, then refer to me. Between us, we’ll take excellent care of you all. Now, I’ll leave you to Mrs Clements, and remember, you’re a valued part of the school even though you’re girls, so don’t allow yourselves to be upset if some of the people here are less charming than they should be at first. You’ll soon tame them — us — I’m sure.’ And with another of his incredible smiles, which Dilly decided sourly he probably practised in a mirror, he went, leaving Mrs Clements leaning against the long desk and looking at them a little nervously.
There was a silence when the door closed behind the Headmaster and then Mrs Clements said, ‘I have to tell you I’m not in any sense a teacher. This is my first job in a school. You’re entitled to
know that, I think. I’m a nurse and a midwife with a good deal of experience in looking after children and young people. I’ve been appointed as a sort of welfare officer for you. So, the problems I’m best able to help with are those to do with your health, both physical and psychological and any, well, social difficulties you may have. Problems to do with work or exams and so forth’ — she held her hands out to show helplessness — ‘I’d be useless. But I can promise you that if you have any difficulties with any of the teaching staff you can use me as a go-between.’ She nodded, suddenly forceful. ‘Yes, indeed. That may well be a useful thing I can do for you.’
‘Are they that bad?’ Dilly asked, and Mrs Clements looked at her and made a grimace.
‘Oh dear, did I show it that clearly? Well, I have to say it’s early days yet, of course, but I’ve met a few of them. And I’m here to tell you there are one or two definite dinosaurs. You’d think the devil in a skirt had gone into their staffroom this morning, the way they reacted to me!’
Dilly felt her shoulders relax. This was better! She leaned forward eagerly and said, ‘Tip us off which ones?’
Mrs Clements laughed aloud. ‘No, of course not! That’d be making prophecies for you — self-fulfilling ones. I could be quite wrong. The people I’m thinking of could have taken a bit of a scunner to me personally, and’ll be positive angels to all of you, so —’
‘I’ll bet not,’ Bonnie said. ‘You can always tell the difference between someone who doesn’t like you because you’re not his sort of person and someone who doesn’t even try and hates you just because of what you were born. A woman or a different race or whatever. Believe me, I know.’
There was an embarrassed silence and then Mrs Clements said, ‘Yes, you could be right. And if you get anyone starting on you because you’re from the Far East, let me know and I’ll —’
Dangerous Things Page 5