Friday Barnes 3

by R. A. Spratt

  Harriet chuckled. ‘Of course, but only if you promise to pick it all up again.’

  Friday upended the bin. There was a lot of scrunched-up paper covered in notes and mathematical scrawl, several chewing gum wrappers, a warped piece of red cellophane and two bottles of two-in-one shampoo. ‘Chewing gum is against the school rules,’ she pointed out.

  ‘I know,’ said Harriet gleefully. ‘I’m a bad girl, aren’t I?’

  Friday started putting the rubbish back in the bin. ‘Ow!’ She stopped suddenly and looked at her finger. A drop of blood started to form. Friday’s face went white.

  ‘Don’t look at it!’ urged Melanie. She rushed forward, pushing past Harriet, and covered Friday’s finger with a tissue.

  Friday sat down heavily on the floor. She breathed deeply and stared at the carpet while Melanie found a bandaid (she always carried them because she often fell over) and wrapped it around her finger.

  ‘How did you do that?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘With this,’ said Friday, carefully leaning forward and plucking a sewing needle from the floor.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Harriet. ‘Sorry about that. But if you come into someone’s room, empty out their bin and search through their rubbish, what do you expect?’

  Friday pulled herself up to her feet. ‘May I look in your wardrobe?’

  Harriet smiled. ‘If you like.’

  ‘You don’t normally ask,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I wanted to see how Harriet would react to the request,’ said Friday.

  ‘And did I shock you?’ said Harriet with a smirk.

  ‘No,’ said Friday. ‘Your body language and facial expressions are entirely consistent with an over-privileged teenager who thinks they have got away with something clever, and is therefore confident they will never be caught.’

  ‘Really?’ said Harriet. ‘What a shame facial expressions can’t be taken down and given as evidence in court.’

  Friday slid open the wardrobe door. It was as neat as the rest of Harriet’s room. Her dresses and blouses were all hung up. Her sweaters and t-shirts were all folded and on shelves, and her shoes were neatly lined up on the floor of the wardrobe. One pair was even still in the shoe box. Friday ran her fingers across the lid. There was a slight tear on the surface of the cardboard as if someone had torn off a label.

  Friday closed the wardrobe and turned to look around the rest of the room.

  ‘Found anything yet?’ said Harriet with a snigger.

  ‘Yes. Melanie, you had better go and fetch the Headmaster,’ said Friday. ‘We’ve found our culprit.’

  The smug smile disappeared from Harriet’s face. ‘You can’t prove anything.’

  ‘Yes, I can,’ said Friday. ‘I’ve caught you red-handed with a camera.’

  ‘What?’ said Melanie.

  ‘I’ve found all the evidence,’ said Friday. ‘The red cellophane in the rubbish bin –’

  ‘I was wrapping a present!’ said Harriet.

  ‘The cellophane is warped from exposure to heat,’ said Friday. ‘As it would’ve been when you wrapped it around a lightbulb to construct a makeshift dark room in your wardrobe. Red light is used in dark rooms because it doesn’t affect the photographic paper. Then there are the shampoo bottles.’

  ‘Washing my hair is not a crime,’ said Harriet.

  ‘No, but according to any hairdresser, using two-in-one shampoo is.’ Friday picked up a bottle from the bin. ‘No wealthy student at this school would ever use shampoo-and-conditioner-in-one, certainly not a girl with luxuriously glossy hair like yours.’ She opened the bottle and sniffed. ‘Just as I suspected – developing fluid.’ Friday opened the other bottle and sniffed that. ‘And this is fixative. So in this bin you have everything you need to make a dark room to develop a photograph.’

  ‘But I don’t have a camera,’ said Harriet.

  ‘Yes, you do,’ said Friday. ‘I just saw it in your wardrobe.’ She strode over to the wardrobe and picked up the shoebox. ‘To make a camera, all you need is a light-proof chamber and a tiny aperture. This shoe box was your light-proof container. And the aperture would have been made by the pin that I just pricked my finger on.’ She took the lid off the shoe box and held it up to the light. A tiny beam shone through.

  ‘There’s a pinprick in the lid,’ said Melanie.

  ‘That is the aperture,’ said Friday. ‘The sticky-tape tear on the front is where Harriet would have taped a piece of cardboard across the hole to act as a shutter.’

  ‘You can’t dob me in!’ wailed Harriet. ‘I’ll be expelled. And I can’t get expelled. I’ll be the first person in my family to get anything less than a postgraduate degree.’

  ‘I can dob you in,’ said Friday, ‘because that is what I’ve been hired to do, and I can’t see any moral justification for what you’ve done. You only did it for the money. And your family must be well-off if you’re studying here.’

  ‘But I do need the money,’ said Harriet.

  ‘Why?’ asked Friday.

  ‘The Pimpernel stole my laptop!’ wailed Harriet.

  ‘I didn’t see that coming,’ said Melanie.

  ‘But laptops aren’t allowed on school property,’ said Friday.

  ‘I know,’ said Harriet. ‘That’s why I couldn’t report the theft. It was 3G capable. I’d been using the laptop to do extra online study drills to keep my grades up. If my parents find out I’ve lost my laptop and my grades drop, they’ll kill me.’

  ‘Surely they won’t literally kill you,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I don’t want to find out,’ said Harriet.

  ‘The first thing you need to worry about is not getting expelled,’ said Friday. ‘The Headmaster is seriously angry, but if you donate the proceeds from your crime to the school’s beautification program, I’m sure he will be forgiving.’

  ‘But my laptop?’ said Harriet.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Friday. ‘No thief is going to elude me for long. When I catch The Pimpernel you’ll get your laptop back, or at the very least get the ticket stub for the pawnshop he sold it to.’

  Chapter 14

  Trouble with Binky

  When Friday and Melanie returned to their dorm room, they found the door unlocked.

  ‘Someone’s broken in,’ whispered Friday.

  ‘Again?’ said Melanie. ‘Should we go in and find out who it is?’

  ‘It might be a dangerous psychopath,’ said Friday.

  ‘Who at this school is a dangerous psychopath?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘Half the student body,’ said Friday. ‘And all the teachers in the maths department.’

  ‘I suppose,’ agreed Melanie. ‘Well, we could stay out here but the dangerous psychopath is bound to find us eventually, so we might as well go in and get it over with.’

  ‘All right,’ said Friday. ‘But stay behind me. If he’s violent, I’ll try reasoning with him while you run to fetch help.’

  ‘I’d rather run to the dining room and have another jam tart,’ said Melanie. ‘They were very good tonight.’

  Friday pushed open the door to the room. ‘Who’s in there?’ she called.

  ‘It’s only me.’

  Friday stuck her head around the door. ‘Binky?!’

  Melanie’s older brother Binky was sitting on her bed. He was perched on the corner, because he was self-conscious that he was a large boy and he didn’t want to rumple or break anything accidentally.

  ‘Why did you break into our room?’ Friday asked.

  ‘I didn’t,’ he said, shocked at the suggestion. ‘The door was wide open when I arrived.’

  ‘That’s probably my fault,’ said Melanie. ‘Closing things isn’t my strong suit. That’s why I try to always leave the room with you. I know you’ll close the door behind you. But if I’m on my own, the responsibility is too much.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Friday. ‘Have you just come to visit Melanie?’

  ‘No,’ said Binky earnestly. ‘I need help.’


  ‘You’re not in a fight again, are you?’ asked Friday.

  ‘Gosh, no,’ said Binky, shaking his head. ‘Something much worse.’

  ‘What?’ asked Melanie.

  Binky leaned forward and whispered, ‘I’ve fallen in love.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I know,’ said Binky, nodding his head in agreement.

  ‘Know what?’ asked Friday.

  ‘Binky isn’t very good at that type of thing,’ explained Melanie. ‘You know, expressing himself and talking to girls.’

  ‘He talks to me,’ said Friday.

  ‘Yes, but I don’t think of you as a girl,’ said Binky.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Friday.

  ‘I think of you as more as a figure of authority who rescues me when I’ve got myself in a terrible bother,’ said Binky truthfully.

  ‘Well, that is nice,’ said Friday. ‘But you could think of me as a girl as well.’

  ‘I suppose,’ said Binky. His brow wrinkled as he thought about it. ‘But it’s not entirely my fault. You’re the one who chooses to wear those cardigans.’

  ‘So who are you in love with?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘I don’t know her name,’ said Binky.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Friday.

  ‘Haven’t had the courage to ask her,’ said Binky seriously. ‘She’s too beautiful for just a run-of-the-mill sort of conversation. I’d have to think of something charming to say, and that could take hours.’

  ‘So where have you seen her?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘Here,’ said Binky.

  ‘In our room?’ asked Friday.

  ‘She’s your neighbour,’ said Binky.

  ‘Ah, the princess,’ said Friday. ‘Everyone seems to be falling in love with her.’

  ‘No, not that one,’ said Binky, shaking his head. ‘She’s not to my taste at all. She’s too pretty and … princessy.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had a type, Binky,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I do,’ said Binky.

  ‘So what does your love interest look like?’ asked Friday.

  ‘She’s radiant,’ said Binky. His eyes glazed over as he imagined her. ‘She’s petite, has shiny brownish hair and has lips the colour of, well … lips.’

  ‘So, in other words, she’s short, has clean hair and normal-coloured lips,’ said Friday.

  ‘Yes, that’s her,’ said Binky happily. ‘And she has the warmest heart.’

  ‘How do you know if you’ve never spoken to her?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘Because she never says anything,’ said Binky. ‘She just glows through her eyes. At least, I think she does. It’s hard to tell because she wears rather thick glasses.’

  ‘You’ve fallen in love with Debbie!’ exclaimed Friday.

  ‘I have?!’ said Binky. ‘Jolly good. I knew I was doing the right thing to come here. You always help me out.’

  ‘Why don’t you just knock on the door and say hello?’ said Friday.

  ‘Are you out of your mind?!’ said Binky. He looked horrified by the suggestion. ‘What would that lead to?’

  ‘A conversation,’ said Friday.

  ‘Well, that’s not a good idea then, is it?’ said Binky. ‘Hardly my strength.’

  ‘He’s got a point,’ agreed Melanie.

  ‘Then what’s your plan?’ asked Friday.

  ‘I was thinking of impressing her by going in the Potato Dash,’ said Binky.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Friday.

  ‘Once a year they hold a race around the quadrangle,’ said Melanie. ‘Runners have to sprint through the corridors of the buildings that make the four sides of the quadrangle, then be the first to touch the flagpole in the centre, all while carrying a twenty-kilo sack of potatoes.’

  ‘It’s a great honour to win,’ said Binky.

  ‘The Vice Principal won it when he was a student here,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Really?!’ exclaimed Friday.

  ‘There was a bout of chicken pox that year,’ explained Melanie. ‘He was the only entry.’

  ‘There is one flaw in your plan,’ said Friday.

  ‘Only one?’ said Binky in surprise. ‘What is it?’

  ‘You’re very slow,’ said Friday.

  ‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said Binky, taken aback. ‘I know my score on the IQ test was on the low side, but I try my best.’

  ‘I don’t mean your brain,’ said Friday.

  ‘Although, it is,’ added Melanie.

  ‘I mean, you aren’t very fast at running, are you?’ said Friday.

  ‘No, you do have a point there,’ agreed Binky frankly. ‘But you might have noticed that I’m a big chap. Obviously tall. But also, under these clothes –’

  ‘Please don’t be disgusting, Binky,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I’ve got a lot of muscles,’ said Binky. ‘The rugby master has had me lifting weights. I can bench press a lot of those heavy disc things they put on the barbell. I thought if I kitted up in running shorts and a singlet, I might cut an impressive sight. Catch the eye, if you know what I mean.’

  Friday shook her head to try and rid herself of the mental image of Binky in skimpy clothes. ‘I think I get the gist of it.’

  ‘So what do you need from us?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘I wanted to talk it through with you,’ said Binky. ‘Find out what you thought of it as an idea.’

  ‘It sounds like a terrible idea,’ said Friday. ‘But that doesn’t mean it won’t work.’

  Chapter 15

  The Potato Dash

  ‘What’s that smell?’ asked Melanie.

  Friday and Melanie were standing with Binky at the starting line of the Potato Dash. All the other competitors were limbering up with stretches or by bouncing up and down on the spot.

  Friday sniffed the air. There was a very disagreeable aroma. ‘It’s part Tiger balm, part fear sweat and partly the chook poo Mr Pilcher is currently watering into the flowerbeds on the far side of the science block,’ said Friday.

  ‘I knew athletic events were unpleasant but I didn’t realise they would smell so bad,’ said Melanie.

  ‘So who is the favourite to win?’ asked Friday.

  ‘Higgenbottom is fast, and so is Derrick Struthers, and Jamison,’ said Binky. ‘But Rajiv Patel and Derrick’s brother, Jason, are devious. They’re roommates. Last year they concocted a scheme to slow everyone down with banana peels.’

  ‘Did it work?’ asked Friday.

  ‘No, the winner punched Patel in the nose and kept running,’ said Melanie.

  ‘You’re super brainy,’ said Binky, turning to Friday. ‘Do you have any tips on how to win a running race?’

  ‘There’s no point asking her now,’ said Melanie. ‘She’s too distracted by seeing Ian in his super-short running shorts.’

  ‘I am not!’ said Friday. ‘I haven’t even noticed him.’

  Friday turned round and saw Ian right behind her. He was stretching his quadriceps while standing on one leg. Friday had never seen him in so little clothing before. Students usually wore polo shirts for PE and much longer shorts. Not that Friday ever attended PE lessons if she could avoid it. She’d never noticed how lean and muscular Ian’s shoulders were before.

  ‘Now she’s too distracted,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Wainscott is a double threat,’ said Binky. ‘He’s fast and sneaky.’

  Ian smirked as he caught Friday staring at him. ‘Like what you see?’ asked Ian.

  ‘You have pleasing symmetry,’ said Friday truthfully.

  Ian raised his eyebrows.

  ‘You know you’re good-looking, so you don’t need me to tell you,’ said Friday.

  Ian smiled. ‘Please stop flirting with me. I’m trying to concentrate on winning this race.’

  Friday’s otherwise incredibly intelligent brain was suddenly unable to organise itself into finding a suitably cutting retort. All she could think to say was ‘bah’ but she realised this didn’t sum up her thoughts and feelings adequately, so she s
imply turned back to Binky.

  ‘Do I have to slap you to get you to focus?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘No, I’m focused,’ said Friday. ‘Run me through the rules of the race and maybe we can find a loophole.’

  ‘Oh, there aren’t any,’ said Binky. ‘Cheating is traditional.’

  ‘You’re allowed to cheat?’ asked Friday.

  ‘So long as you run from the starting line all the way to the finishing line through all four buildings,’ said Binky. ‘It doesn’t matter what you do to any of the other competitors along the way.’

  ‘That’s appalling!’ said Friday.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Binky. ‘The headmaster who founded the race believed that cut-throat and brutally unfair competition was good preparation for real life.’

  ‘He’s probably got a point there,’ conceded Friday.

  ‘Have you any thoughts on how you might cheat, Binky?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘Well, I am good at rugby,’ said Binky. ‘So I thought I could have a go at tackling someone. Only problem is, it would leave me lying on the ground too and it’s hard to win a race from that position.’

  ‘My advice is to run slowly,’ said Friday.

  ‘Really?’ said Binky. ‘I like the sound of that because running slowly sounds easier than running quickly, but it’s not the best way to win a race.’

  ‘You stand no chance of victory through cheating or natural ability,’ continued Friday. ‘The only way you can win is if the whole race degenerates into total chaos and all the faster runners take each other out.’

  ‘That would be good,’ said Binky.

  ‘All you’ve got to do is jog along at the back and try not to get knocked over,’ advised Friday.

  ‘And be handsome while you do it,’ said Melanie. ‘To catch Debbie’s eye.’

  But Binky had stopped paying attention. ‘Oh my gosh! There she is!’

  Debbie was standing just a few feet away from them. They hadn’t noticed her until now because Debbie was the type of person you could easily not notice. She was wearing her usual baggy cardigan but her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was wearing runner’s leggings.