by Fenton, John
As I walked past Brother Francis I said quietly for him to hear, ‘See you, shithead.’ His face reddened and I smiled to myself.
Tom Banks walked me out of the office and shook my hand. ‘Good luck, John,’ he said, ‘and keep up the football.’ As I walked away towards Gordon House he said loudly, ‘You should have been here from the start.’ I waved my arm in a final salute.
Mr Reid was a grey-haired, heavily built, softly spoken man who had been Housemaster of Gordon House for over a decade. He and his family occupied a large four-roomed flat that took up half the ground floor. His wife was slim and her face was thin and lined but it was obvious that in her younger years she would have been beautiful. They had a son who was twenty-two years old and his photograph stood proudly in a silver frame in the centre of the large mantelpiece that dominated their living room wall.
Mr Reid sat looking at me, appraising me with his dark-brown eyes. ‘You will be the youngest person in my house,’ he said. ‘Most of the boys who come to me are nearly eighteen years old and have academic potential. I don’t know exactly what I should arrange for you as your educational
‘I’m not thick, sir. I’ve read a lot of books and I’ve always managed to understand what I was reading.’ level is so much lower than the rest.’ He adjusted a cushion on his chair and sat back. ‘I find it hard to believe that you have been out of proper schooling since you were thirteen. It’s scandalous. What the hell were they thinking about?’
Mr Reid responded immediately: ‘I never said you were thick. You have to be bright to have been sent here but it is going to be difficult to find out exactly where to slot you in.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Maybe you can be set separate work by the teaching staff and they can give you extra tuition in their night classes. I’ll have to speak to G.B. about it.’
‘Who’s G.B., sir?’
‘Mr Shaw, the headmaster, who you met earlier. His parents must have had a love for the works of George Bernard Shaw to have given him the same Christian names. Most of the boys and all of the staff call him G.B. and I think he quite likes it.’
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. ‘Is it all right if I smoke, sir?’
Mr Reid nodded, reached into his pocket and pulled out a squashed box of Swan Vesta matches and held them out for me. I took one and lit my cigarette and handed them back, shaking my head in disbelief, ‘I can’t believe that two schools can be so different. I would have been slapped and booked just for having cigarettes in Vincent’s and here I can sit and smoke while I’m talking to you.’
He smiled. ‘That is nearly all down to G.B. When he came to this school he changed everything. All of the old ways went out of the window and G.B. rules came in through the door. He said that if boys were shown respect, they would give respect and he was right. As soon as G.B. rules had been implemented the behaviour of the boys improved. It is second nature to all of us now to help our boys, not punish them. Our exam results are as good as any of the local schools and I think that our boys are better behaved than any of them. We occasionally have a hiccup when one boy misbehaves, but that happens in any school.’
‘G.B. said that I had to clear it with you to go to town and find out the times that masses are said on a Sunday.’
Mr Reid looked surprised. He sat back in his chair and his eyes reappraised me. ‘I’m not often taken unawares but your request did just that. In all my years in this school that is the first time I’ve been asked by a boy about going to church. Of course you can go. What church are you looking for?’
‘Catholic, sir. I’m a Roman Catholic.’
‘St Mary’s is in the town. I’m sure there is a board outside that gives all the times.’
‘When can I go and check, sir?’
‘Any time this afternoon. Just give a tap on the door when you’re leaving. By the time you get back I will have sorted out some sort of timetable for your lessons.’ He looked me up and down. ‘I’ll also sort you out some overalls and boots as you don’t want to ruin your own stuff.’ He stood up and walked to the door and opened it. ‘Come with me and I’ll show you the rest of the house and where you will be sleeping.’
I followed him on his grand tour. There were two large rooms downstairs, a television room and a home study room. There was also a washroom and toilet. On the first floor there was a small dormitory on either side of the staircase. Both dormitories had beds for ten boys. In the middle of the landing and opposite the stairs was a large washroom with showering facilities and toilets. The top floor was identical to the first floor.
Mr Reid opened the right-hand door and pointed to a bed in the far left-hand corner. ‘That’s yours. If you have anything of value you can leave it with me and I will look after it for you. Don’t leave it in your locker as we have thieves in the school and it will go missing. There are a lot of clever boys here, but they were not put here for their honesty.’
I went over to my bed and sat down on it to test the springs and mattress. It was comfortable enough and I stood up and opened the small locker by the side of the bed to check that it was empty.
Mr Reid smiled. ‘Is it up to your standard, John?’
‘Compared with Vincent’s, this is great.’
‘Stay here for a little while and adjust yourself to your new surroundings. When you’re ready you can take a walk around the school grounds to familiarise yourself with the layout of all the different classrooms and workshops. Don’t forget to tap on my door when you decide to go into town.’
He closed the dormitory door quietly and left me alone. I was glad of the time alone as my brain was trying to come to terms with everything I had been told and to accept the enormity of the changes in my circumstances. I slumped back down on my bed and closed my eyes feeling a sense of optimism about the future for the first time in ages.
Chapter 26
January 1961
The low winter sun blazed unrelenting rays through the home-study room window and completely obscured the words on the page I was reading. I turned my chair so that the sun was behind me. I was having trouble reading Dickens’ novel A Tale of Two Cities and doubted if I would be ready to précis it in two days’ time. I loved history but I knew very little about the French Revolution so there was no chance I could skip any of Dickens’ dialogue. What the fuck was a French émigré? I reached for my dictionary and thumbed through the pages.
The first three months in Ardale had been a bigger ordeal than I thought they would be. Most of the lads in the school were studious and pleasant but there were also a few arseholes. I had come across the biggest arsehole on my third day. I walked into the television room and took one of the back seats as most of the others were occupied. A lad came and sat next to me and whispered in my ear, ‘Have you got a spare cigarette?’
I reached into my pocket and gave him one and asked him if he wanted a light. I never heard anybody tell me to be quiet and after I had given him a light, I asked him his name. Suddenly, a tall lad appeared in front of me and said, ‘I told you to shut the fuck up.’ Before I had time to react, he slapped me hard with his open hand across my cheek.
As far as I was concerned, there were people who walked around with a bullseye in the centre of their faces saying ‘hit here’. This arsehole was one of them. I came flying out of my chair and crunched my head into the centre of his face and pushed and ran him, knocking over chairs, to the far wall, where I smashed another head-butt into his unprotected face. It was possibly the most one-sided fight I had ever had. As he slid down the wall I stepped back and kicked him hard in his midriff. I heard someone running towards me and turned just as his friend was about to jump on me. I leapt backwards and grabbed an overturned chair and hit him with it. By this time the room was in chaos and Mr Reid came running out of his flat. He hurried over and took the chair out of my hands then turned around to a big-built red-headed lad and said, ‘What started this?’
Unlike Vincent’s, the lad told him exactly what had happened and
left out none of the details. Mr Reid listened carefully and when the lad had finished he said, ‘Thank you, Paul.’
He pointed to me. ‘Come with me. We need to have a few words.’ I followed him out of the room, making sure I bumped into the arsehole’s friend as I walked past. I grinned at him through clenched teeth and said quietly, ‘We’ll finish it when I come out.’
Mr Reid ushered me to one of his dining chairs.
‘Sit down there, John; we have some serious talking to do.’ He walked around to the other side of the table and sat down opposite me. ‘If that had been anybody else except Bainbridge and Thomas you would be in serious trouble. I know what Bainbridge is like and I know how quick he is to use physical violence. His friend Thomas is no better. But this still doesn’t exonerate you because of the level of violence you used. I know in your eyes it was self-defence but that is no excuse. You can’t go through life hitting people. When he slapped you, instead of beating him into a pulp, you should have come to me so I could deal with him. That is what a responsible adult would do. If you had hit him first, I would be accusing you of bullying. These boys have not had the same background training that you have.’
He stood up and walked me back towards the door. ‘It all ends here. I don’t want any afters. It’s finished. When you go back out there I want you to shake hands with both boys. Is that clear?’
I reluctantly nodded my head. The ignominy of being slapped by an arsehole was troubling me and I could still feel the burning sensation on my cheek.
I looked angrily at Mr Reid. ‘I’ll never let anyone hit me without hitting them back. I was thumped and bullied for years. It will never happen again no matter what the consequences.’
He reconsidered his decision. ‘In that case, I think you’d best stay in here for a few minutes, John.’ He placed an ashtray in front of me on the table. ‘Have yourself a smoke and calm down. If you feel up to it, why don’t you tell me about what went on in your last school? It might help me to understand you a little better.’
For the next half an hour I told him all about Vincent’s. I even told him about Jimmy Wilkinson. He was a good listener and sat quietly looking at me as I related all the different instances that led up to the foiled riot. I explained in graphic detail about the damage done to the boys’ backsides after they had visited the small dorm and the brutality of Brother Arnold.
When I told him about Brother Francis making me stand on the recreation room roof he shook his head sadly. ‘I’ve heard that things like that go on, but I never believed them.’
After I had finished my account, he said, ‘That explains a lot to me and now I know why you reacted the way you did when Bainbridge slapped you. I think it would be advisable if I had all three of you in here to make the peace as I don’t want any silly remark to start it all off again.’ He stood up. ‘You wait here and I’ll get the others.’
When Bainbridge and Thomas were led into the room I watched them warily from my seat. The fear in Thomas’s eyes was evident and I watched contemptuously as he held out his hand for me to shake. Mr Reid nodded at me to accept the apology and I briefly squeezed the offered hand. Bainbridge was completely subdued. His nose and mouth were swollen and there were still traces of blood under his nostrils. When I accepted his hand I had to restrain myself from pulling him towards me and giving him another head-butt. I thought that the whole thing was probably a farce and that Bainbridge was smarting over what had happened to him and Thomas. I stared deeply into his eyes so that he knew without doubt that I was ready for him any time of his choosing. He looked away and it was then I realised I would never have any more trouble from him. Mr Reid seemed satisfied and led all three of us back into the television room.
Life settled down and I slotted into a routine of studying and reading novels I borrowed from the library in the town. Most of the lads accepted the fact that I was nowhere near their academic level and quite often would help me try to understand whatever assignment I had been given. The only two subjects I had no trouble with were English and History. Most of the mathematics was gobbledygook to me and I dreaded going into the classroom and making myself look stupid.
One day soon after, I had another fracas with someone who made the mistake of targeting me. When I was asked by Mr Gray, the Maths master, what the letter d stood for in the formula P = dgh, I shrugged and said, ‘I haven’t a clue, sir.’ Before he could ask someone else, the class joker, Michael Ball, piped up, ‘Poor old Vincent’s, he slept through that lesson. He was tired.’
The whole class burst out laughing, even though it wasn’t particularly funny, and it reminded me of the way I had been teased and ridiculed at St Gregory’s all those years before. I looked at Ball and promised myself that after class I would deal with him – and I did just that. Before we went to our next lesson I followed him into the toilet and head-butted him in the face. He slipped over on the wet floor and I kicked him hard in his ribs.
I said to him, ‘Poor old Ardale, did you fall asleep when they taught you how to look after yourself?’ I kicked him again. ‘Don’t ever take the piss out of me again or I’ll really give you a kicking.’
I had hardly sat down in my next classroom before I was called out to go and see Mr Reid. He was far from happy when I walked into his room and gestured angrily for me to take a seat.
‘Why did you attack Michael Ball?’ he demanded. ‘Tell me exactly what led up to it.’
I couldn’t believe he had found out. What sort of school was this where boys ran around grassing each other up? I stared stubbornly at the floor. I wasn’t going to get involved in dropping Ball in the shit for taking the piss out of me. I had more backbone than that.
‘Look at me when I’m speaking to you.’ Mr Reid’s voice commanded respect and I looked up at him towering over me. ‘I heard that he made a joke in class. The big word in that sentence is joke. Ball is always joking. There’s not an ounce of nastiness in the boy and yet you decided to beat him up in the toilet. Explain yourself and your actions.’
‘You know why. You just told me that he made a joke out of me in the classroom. I’m nobody’s fool and I won’t allow someone to take the piss out of me. I’ve just made sure that he won’t do it again.’
Mr Reid banged his hand down hard on the table, ‘So you decided to beat Ball up for an inoffensive joke directed at you? How dare you! You acted like a mindless thug. I’m withdrawing all town visits for you for a month. You can go out once a week to church and no more than once a week. You cannot use the television room for a month either as I can’t trust you not to attack someone for looking at you the wrong way. I want to give you time to reflect on your thuggish behaviour.’
‘I’m not a thug. I just look after myself.’ I was puzzled. It seemed that all the rules were different in this school and I was feeling my way, trying to understand them.
‘No, you don’t just look after yourself.’ Now he was shouting, ‘You attack people to make them do your wishes. You use extreme violence in response to minor provocation. You’re a thug and nothing but a thug. We won’t have this sort of behaviour in our school and until I can sort something out, you are suspended from classes. Now get out and go up to your dormitory.’
I had seen a new side to Mr Reid and I left his room feeling chastised and ashamed. I spent the next few hours questioning myself and the way I acted. I knew why I hit Ball and in my mind he deserved it, but in Mr Reid’s eyes I acted like a thug. Was I a thug and didn’t know it? I decided that after Mr Reid had calmed down, maybe tomorrow, I would go back and ask him to clarify his remarks.
It was ten o’clock the next morning when I was taken by Mr Reid into his inner sanctum. He sat down opposite me and his whole demeanour told me that he was no longer riled about yesterday’s incident. He said quietly, ‘John, before you even start, I can tell you that the restrictions I set yesterday are staying as they are. Once I’ve given a punishment, I never change my mind.’
‘I understand that, sir. I just want you to
tell me why you think I’m a thug, as I don’t think I am one. There has to be something about me that makes you think I am. I just want to know what.’
He nodded his head thoughtfully and shifted in his chair. ‘Why do I think you’re a thug?’ He reached into a bookcase next to his chair and brought out a large dictionary and handed it to me. ‘Look up the word thug and read out its definition.’
I thumbed quickly through the book until I reached the word I wanted. ‘It says vicious and brutal ruffian.’
‘I think that sums up your behaviour yesterday precisely. You were vicious in your assault on Ball and quite brutal in the way you targeted a boy who was no match for you. Whether you like it or not, you have been socialised into becoming a thug. You see nothing wrong in using violence on people who have done nothing to deserve it and I blame it entirely on the school you came from. Somehow I have to try and correct this awful flaw in your character and make you realise that normal people will not tolerate this way of behaving. If I don’t check it while you are in this school, I fear that you are in for a lot of heartache and misery in the outside world.’
‘Don’t you find anything wrong in Ball’s behaviour, sir?’ I was still puzzled.
‘No I don’t. He joked about you possibly falling asleep in a lesson. He didn’t for one minute think you had; he said it for humorous effect. There will be numerous people in your life that like joking and messing about, and if you decide to hit them all, then I predict a lonely and troubled future for you.’
I stood up to leave. I respected him but what he was saying was the exact opposite of everything I believed. It had taken me over two and a half years to reach a position where people left me alone and now I was being told by Mr Reid that I was in the wrong. I didn’t want to stand by and let someone take the piss out of me without doing something about it. To act any other way would be a contradiction of everything I believed in. I walked to the door none the wiser and went back to my dormitory to continue my book.