of the agent’s letter.
‘All right, I’ll think about it,’ I said. ‘If it comes to anything, I’ll dedicate it to you.’
‘There’s my lovely boy.’ She patted my face. ‘Now let’s get back to bed.’
I lay with my arm around her in the darkness for quite a while, listening to the rain. I thought she was asleep until she said quietly, ‘Oliver, don’t forget me too quickly, will you? I wouldn’t like that.’
As if I ever could.
5
LUCY
And the world’s shrunken to a heap of hot flesh straining on a bed.
E. R. DODDS
K HYBER STREET SEEMED MORE depressing than ever when I returned, squatting in the winter rain at the edge of the brick-field, black and ugly.
Slater was still not fit for duty, as Mr Carter informed me on the first day of term, and I would be required to continue as before. Which didn’t set well with the top class at all, for they had been counting on Slater’s return and a resumption of the old ways.
The many films and books over the years which have attempted to portray life in the downtown type of school have always seemed to me inaccurate in one major respect. They tend to portray indiscipline as an occasional outburst of major violence, most areas being covered, from attempted rape to vicious physical assault. In between we are expected to believe that young hooligans sit quietly at their desks while the teacher explains some intricate point of grammar on the board.
In my experience, it was the general indiscipline that was so hard to bear, the constant undercurrent of insolence, the regular buzz of conversation, the refusal to do anything but the barest minimum of work. The blank, invisible wall of hatred was such that there were times when I felt very much as I suspect a German soldier must on walking into a crowded bistro in Occupied France.
Things went from bad to worse during the first couple of weeks, and Varley and his friends were as difficult as it was possible to be. We were virtually back where we had started. To be honest, I had only myself to blame in some respects for I had allowed the iron control I’d achieved during the previous term to slip more than a little.
I drifted in a mood of real depression, not caring very much about anything, I suppose, and missing Imogene. Strange how seldom we value what we have until we have lost it, and her replacement didn’t help matters. A small dark eager girl of twenty-one, who looked about sixteen and wore deceptively simple clothes that had obviously cost a great deal of money.
She had one of those beautifully clipped, upper-crust voices that only the better kind of English public school seems able to produce. In view of all this, it was hardly surprising that her name was Harriet. We spoke briefly at a general staff meeting, for Carter had informed me that she lived in the Ladywood Park area. When I raised the matter, she seemed more dismayed than anything else. My general impression being that she didn’t care for me at all, I withdrew and left her severely alone.
But matters were fast approaching some sort of crisis with the top class. The flashpoint when it came was, as is usual in such affairs, the product of a rather trivial incident.
The weather turned strangely warm for the time of year, but only for a day or two. It was muggy and oppressive, rain in the offing, but at least it was dry, and I took the class out into the yard during a games period, to play rounders.
Varley caused nothing but trouble from the start for, as was to be expected, he was the sort of human being who was only interested in having the bat in his hand. Stage centre or nothing.
He insisted on batting first for his team, worked his way round the bases and joined the end of the line of boys waiting to follow him. He kept glancing at me furtively and I knew he intended to jump the queue as soon as he thought he could get away with it. I gave him a little rope, allowed him to bully his way up three places, but made no sign.
God, how I
‘All right, I’ll think about it,’ I said. ‘If it comes to anything, I’ll dedicate it to you.’
‘There’s my lovely boy.’ She patted my face. ‘Now let’s get back to bed.’
I lay with my arm around her in the darkness for quite a while, listening to the rain. I thought she was asleep until she said quietly, ‘Oliver, don’t forget me too quickly, will you? I wouldn’t like that.’
As if I ever could.
5
LUCY
And the world’s shrunken to a heap of hot flesh straining on a bed.
E. R. DODDS
K HYBER STREET SEEMED MORE depressing than ever when I returned, squatting in the winter rain at the edge of the brick-field, black and ugly.
Slater was still not fit for duty, as Mr Carter informed me on the first day of term, and I would be required to continue as before. Which didn’t set well with the top class at all, for they had been counting on Slater’s return and a resumption of the old ways.
The many films and books over the years which have attempted to portray life in the downtown type of school have always seemed to me inaccurate in one major respect. They tend to portray indiscipline as an occasional outburst of major violence, most areas being covered, from attempted rape to vicious physical assault. In between we are expected to believe that young hooligans sit quietly at their desks while the teacher explains some intricate point of grammar on the board.
In my experience, it was the general indiscipline that was so hard to bear, the constant undercurrent of insolence, the regular buzz of conversation, the refusal to do anything but the barest minimum of work. The blank, invisible wall of hatred was such that there were times when I felt very much as I suspect a German soldier must on walking into a crowded bistro in Occupied France.
Things went from bad to worse during the first couple of weeks, and Varley and his friends were as difficult as it was possible to be. We were virtually back where we had started. To be honest, I had only myself to blame in some respects for I had allowed the iron control I’d achieved during the previous term to slip more than a little.
I drifted in a mood of real depression, not caring very much about anything, I suppose, and missing Imogene. Strange how seldom we value what we have until we have lost it, and her replacement didn’t help matters. A small dark eager girl of twenty-one, who looked about sixteen and wore deceptively simple clothes that had obviously cost a great deal of money.
She had one of those beautifully clipped, upper-crust voices that only the better kind of English public school seems able to produce. In view of all this, it was hardly surprising that her name was Harriet. We spoke briefly at a general staff meeting, for Carter had informed me that she lived in the Ladywood Park area. When I raised the matter, she seemed more dismayed than anything else. My general impression being that she didn’t care for me at all, I withdrew and left her severely alone.
But matters were fast approaching some sort of crisis with the top class. The flashpoint when it came was, as is usual in such affairs, the product of a rather trivial incident.
The weather turned strangely warm for the time of year, but only for a day or two. It was muggy and oppressive, rain in the offing, but at least it was dry, and I took the class out into the yard during a games period, to play rounders.
Varley caused nothing but trouble from the start for, as was to be expected, he was the sort of human being who was only interested in having the bat in his hand. Stage centre or nothing.
He insisted on batting first for his team, worked his way round the bases and joined the end of the line of boys waiting to follow him. He kept glancing at me furtively and I knew he intended to jump the queue as soon as he thought he could get away with it. I gave him a little rope, allowed him to bully his way up three places, but made no sign.
God, how I
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