gave Copper Pie a how-did-you-manage-that face.
‘Three,’ said Jonno. ‘What about you?’
‘Three,’ said Bee. ‘So that means we’ve done fifteen.’
‘But how many were rotten cheating liars?’ said Fifty.
‘None.’ I shook my head. So did everyone else.
‘Well, that’s good,’ said Bee. ‘It means we know the guilty one is one of the last eleven. It’ll all be sorted by end of lunch. Tribe does it again.’
We did a mini Tribe handshake and plodded back into class.
‘Right class, it’s mental maths. You know what to do. Books out and pencils ready. I’ll read the questions and you answer what you can,’ said Miss
Walsh.
Alice’s hand shot up.
‘No, Alice. There can’t be any questions about this. We do it every week.’
Jamie stood up and shouted out. ‘She’s dropped her pencil, Miss. It’s under Ed’s seat.’
‘Jamie! You do not shout out, you put your hand up. Haven’t we been through this enough times?’
Jamie sat down, said ‘Yes’ and then put his hand up. Ed picked up Alice’s pencil and gave it to Jamie. Callum took it off Jamie and gave it to Alice.
‘Right,’ said Miss Walsh. ‘Are we all ready?’
‘Yes,’ shouted Jamie, with no hand in the air.
Miss Walsh sighed, retied her bun-type thing and read out the first question.
I try and get top marks so I was concentrating quite hard when the Head came in and interrupted Miss Walsh’s flow.
‘You know who you are. The five of you, follow me!’
You can tell a lot by the way people speak. The Head was not inviting us for tea and scones, if you get my drift.
In the Head’s office there are pictures everywhere. Loads were done by the kids in school but some are posh in gold frames, and there is a certificate and a photo of the
Head being given a cup and another photo of the Head opening the school library after it was ‘modernised’. I liked the library the way it was before, when the books were all over the
place in no order and you could take out what you liked. Now there’s a system and you have to sign ‘out’ and back ‘in’. (I was having a good look at the walls because
I was too scared to look at the Head.)
‘Enough is enough,’ she said. ‘A kangaroo court indeed! What were you thinking?’
There was silence. So Bee spoke. ‘What exactly is a kangaroo court?’
‘It is a cowboy court.’ The Head looked at our faces and gave us another clue. ‘A court that cannot possibly deliver a sound judgement because it is made up of people who are
not equipped to understand or implement the law. A lawless court. A bogus court. A sham.’
I was getting the picture. The Head had obviously found out about the Year 3 interrogations. And she didn’t seem to be impressed, which was odd considering we were trying to catch the
thief for her.
‘We were only trying to help,’ said Jonno. ‘Flo, Keener’s sister, said that Jack was very upset.’
‘She begged us to help,’ said Fifty, making a prizewinning begging face together with praying hands.
‘What is it about the five of you? I know you to be decent, responsible children, yet you cannot walk around a corner without causing some disruption or other. I have had to talk to you
about bribery, about emails sent without authority . . . Can you not follow the basic rules of school, which are not dissimilar from those of life?’
It was a question, but no one had an answer. I smiled, hoping to remind her of the decent, responsible bit before she handed out the punishment.
‘You will do no more interrogations of the Year 3 class, and you will personally apologise to those you have already quizzed. Mr Dukes is expecting you. Go away, and do not attempt to
interfere further. We, the staff, will address the matter of Jack’s medals. Try, for the rest of the term – which is, after all, the end of your time in this school – to think
before you act.’
Not bad advice, I thought.
‘Yes, we will,’ said Bee. ‘Thank you.’ As I
‘Three,’ said Jonno. ‘What about you?’
‘Three,’ said Bee. ‘So that means we’ve done fifteen.’
‘But how many were rotten cheating liars?’ said Fifty.
‘None.’ I shook my head. So did everyone else.
‘Well, that’s good,’ said Bee. ‘It means we know the guilty one is one of the last eleven. It’ll all be sorted by end of lunch. Tribe does it again.’
We did a mini Tribe handshake and plodded back into class.
‘Right class, it’s mental maths. You know what to do. Books out and pencils ready. I’ll read the questions and you answer what you can,’ said Miss
Walsh.
Alice’s hand shot up.
‘No, Alice. There can’t be any questions about this. We do it every week.’
Jamie stood up and shouted out. ‘She’s dropped her pencil, Miss. It’s under Ed’s seat.’
‘Jamie! You do not shout out, you put your hand up. Haven’t we been through this enough times?’
Jamie sat down, said ‘Yes’ and then put his hand up. Ed picked up Alice’s pencil and gave it to Jamie. Callum took it off Jamie and gave it to Alice.
‘Right,’ said Miss Walsh. ‘Are we all ready?’
‘Yes,’ shouted Jamie, with no hand in the air.
Miss Walsh sighed, retied her bun-type thing and read out the first question.
I try and get top marks so I was concentrating quite hard when the Head came in and interrupted Miss Walsh’s flow.
‘You know who you are. The five of you, follow me!’
You can tell a lot by the way people speak. The Head was not inviting us for tea and scones, if you get my drift.
In the Head’s office there are pictures everywhere. Loads were done by the kids in school but some are posh in gold frames, and there is a certificate and a photo of the
Head being given a cup and another photo of the Head opening the school library after it was ‘modernised’. I liked the library the way it was before, when the books were all over the
place in no order and you could take out what you liked. Now there’s a system and you have to sign ‘out’ and back ‘in’. (I was having a good look at the walls because
I was too scared to look at the Head.)
‘Enough is enough,’ she said. ‘A kangaroo court indeed! What were you thinking?’
There was silence. So Bee spoke. ‘What exactly is a kangaroo court?’
‘It is a cowboy court.’ The Head looked at our faces and gave us another clue. ‘A court that cannot possibly deliver a sound judgement because it is made up of people who are
not equipped to understand or implement the law. A lawless court. A bogus court. A sham.’
I was getting the picture. The Head had obviously found out about the Year 3 interrogations. And she didn’t seem to be impressed, which was odd considering we were trying to catch the
thief for her.
‘We were only trying to help,’ said Jonno. ‘Flo, Keener’s sister, said that Jack was very upset.’
‘She begged us to help,’ said Fifty, making a prizewinning begging face together with praying hands.
‘What is it about the five of you? I know you to be decent, responsible children, yet you cannot walk around a corner without causing some disruption or other. I have had to talk to you
about bribery, about emails sent without authority . . . Can you not follow the basic rules of school, which are not dissimilar from those of life?’
It was a question, but no one had an answer. I smiled, hoping to remind her of the decent, responsible bit before she handed out the punishment.
‘You will do no more interrogations of the Year 3 class, and you will personally apologise to those you have already quizzed. Mr Dukes is expecting you. Go away, and do not attempt to
interfere further. We, the staff, will address the matter of Jack’s medals. Try, for the rest of the term – which is, after all, the end of your time in this school – to think
before you act.’
Not bad advice, I thought.
‘Yes, we will,’ said Bee. ‘Thank you.’ As I
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