Maxwell's Revenge by M.J. Trow Page B

goodness. You had me worried, there. Anyway, the reason I rang was to check you were up, firstly.’
    ‘No trouble. The time bomb that is your son was primed and ready to go at seven-thirty.’
    ‘Good. Also, I managed to get one of the mums from nursery to pick him up at around eight-fifteen. Are you all right with that? Will you be ready?’
    Maxwell looked down at his son. If there wasa category in the Guinness Book of Records for how many Coco Pops could be embedded in one child’s hair, then Nolan was a contender. ‘Ready? Aye, ready. We’ll be fine. We’re all ready and dressed as a matter of fact.’
    ‘My word,’ Jacquie said, with scarcely a trace of irony showing through. ‘In that case, my work is done. I’ll either see you tonight or let you know what’s going on. Oh, and Max, just one thing.’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘The only way to get Coco Pops out of his hair is to rinse them out. If you try combing, they just squash further in. Bye.’ And she was gone.
    Slowly replacing the phone, Maxwell asked Nolan, ‘Did you see when she put the cameras in place? Do you know where they are, eh, little man?’ And he scooped him up, all chocolately, and took him off for a bit of a rinse, careful all the time to keep him at arm’s length.
     
    Leighford High School didn’t look any different on that Friday morning. The dining hall was cordoned off with stripey police tape and the kids were a little subdued, but most staff agreed that that was a definite plus. Maxwell, Acting Headteacher, decided against a special assembly. He opted for a staff meeting instead. He stood at the front of the room, and waited patiently for the staff to settle down. He cleared his throat quietly and the room was still. So this was whatpower felt like from the front. He took a deep breath and waited for the comments from the old geezer sitting at the front. Oh, but hang on, he was that old geezer, so no point in waiting.
    He consciously copied Herr Hitler at the Berlin Sportpalast at his first big rally as Chancellor. He glowered left and right, but mostly right, and slicked down his hair, which sprang back immediately. Then he folded his arms until all the shuffling had stopped.
    All eyes were on him now – aged shits like Ben Holton, the Head of Science who was at school with Isaac Newton. Crawling toadies like Philippa Parses, distraught that poor Mr Diamond was no longer at the helm. And a goodly smattering of his old gang – Sally Greenhow of Special Needs, Paul Moss of the History Department, both Thingees from reception – rubbed shoulders with bright young things newly appointed by Legs Diamond; NQTs as green as grass who would be mown down by the withering fire of Year Eleven.
    ‘As of this morning,’ he said, no longer thinking in German, ‘our Lords and Masters at County Hall have decreed that, as a temporary measure, I shall be Acting Headteacher of Leighford High School.’
    Whoops and cheers all round, followed by laughter. Some were genuinely delighted. Some were hysterical. Some would not know what hit them.
    ‘This has been ratified by the Chair of Governors – and it’s nice to have the furniture on our side, isn’t it, boys?’
    Philippa Parses could not sit there and take all this. ‘Is this flippancy going to continue?’ she snapped.
    There was a silence. All eyes were on Maxwell.
    ‘I will attribute that remark to the fact that you are still in shock after the events of yesterday, Pippa,’ he said quietly. ‘If you wish to apply for compassionate leave …’ he peered at her more closely, ‘or early retirement, I shall be only too happy to consider it. In the meantime, I have a school to run. Can I or can I not count on your support?’
    Philippa wanted the floor to swallow her, but it wasn’t going to oblige. She lost eye contact and muttered a rather feeble, ‘Yes.’
    ‘Good,’ said Maxwell, ‘Now, people, to business …’
     
    Jacquie sat at the bedside of Mrs Bevell and listlessly flicked