loathed him, and the things I had learned about him since our first meeting hardly improved matters. A vicious, mindless lout who had used that belt of his as a weapon on more than one occasion in gang fights. He had appeared in juvenile court twice and was at present on probation for breaking into the local youth club leader’s flat, smashing everything in sight and defecating on the doormat as a grand finale. On top of everything else, he and his gang terrorized the entire district. And Carter didn’t want any trouble.
Varley reached for the bat. I called, ‘Get back to the end of the queue and wait your turn, Varley.’
‘Who, me, sir?’ There was outrage in his voice at the perceived injustice of the suggestion.
‘Yes, you,’ I told him firmly. ‘Get back to your proper place.’
He threw the bat a good fifteen or twenty feet from him, turned, and slouched towards the end of the queue.
‘Go and wait for me in the corridor outside the classroom,’ I told him.
He glanced uncertainly from me to the class, realizing, I think for the first time, that when the chips were really down in any kind of public confrontation, he was on his own.
Perhaps I had pushed him too hard. One should always leave people a way out, some possibility of a retreat, but I was too young to be aware of that particular rule of life. He walked past me very slowly, insolence and defiance in every step. A yard or two away he started to whistle, then produced a comb and pulled it through his hair.
The class waited silently, not even a titter. There was an unnatural stillness. Somewhere thunder rumbled on the horizon of things and the swollen, grey belly of the clouds seemed ready to split wide open at any moment. I was hot, I was sweating and I’d very definitely had enough.
‘Two seconds, Varley, to get through that door,’ I called. ‘That’s all you’ve got.’
The end of things for him, too, I suppose, and he spun to face me, snarling like a trapped animal. ‘Just you fucking well try to make me!’
I started to run at him, he turned and made for the door, too late. The flat of my hand caught him between the shoulder blades, sending him headfirst through the doorway, to fall on his hands and knees by the steps.
I stood just inside the door, breathing hard. ‘Now get upstairs.’
I was aware of the woodwork room door opening, and Wally appeared. Varley crouched there for a moment then came up suddenly, that belt of his free in his hand, the badges glinting. I managed to grab hold of the end before he could strike a blow, and threw it into the corner.
I can see his white, pinched face now as he rushed at me in the gloom, the hatred blazing in his eyes, for me, for the whole world. There was a flurry of ineffectual blows, one landing on my cheek rather unpleasantly, then he tried to put his knee into my groin. There seemed to be only one thing to do after that, and I punched him in the stomach as hard as I could.
He doubled over in pain, and Wally grabbed him by the collar and ran him into the woodwork room, which was empty, for, by chance, he was enjoying a free period before taking my class.
I stayed by the door, panting for breath, hands shaking. Wally shoved Varley down into a chair, came back, and offered me a cigarette from an old battered silver case with some sort of regimental badge on the cover.
‘What should I do?’ I said as he gave me a light.
‘No use going to Carter,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to handle it yourself. Unless you want to make a police job of it.’ He picked up the belt. They wouldn’t have much difficulty in describing this as an offensive weapon.’
‘But you don’t think I should?’
‘Not unless you want them to do the job for you.’ He took out his pipe and filled it methodically. ‘I’ll back you all the way, whatever you decide.’
He had placed the belt over the end of the banister. I picked it up and nodded. ‘All right, give me five minutes with him, then you can
Varley reached for the bat. I called, ‘Get back to the end of the queue and wait your turn, Varley.’
‘Who, me, sir?’ There was outrage in his voice at the perceived injustice of the suggestion.
‘Yes, you,’ I told him firmly. ‘Get back to your proper place.’
He threw the bat a good fifteen or twenty feet from him, turned, and slouched towards the end of the queue.
‘Go and wait for me in the corridor outside the classroom,’ I told him.
He glanced uncertainly from me to the class, realizing, I think for the first time, that when the chips were really down in any kind of public confrontation, he was on his own.
Perhaps I had pushed him too hard. One should always leave people a way out, some possibility of a retreat, but I was too young to be aware of that particular rule of life. He walked past me very slowly, insolence and defiance in every step. A yard or two away he started to whistle, then produced a comb and pulled it through his hair.
The class waited silently, not even a titter. There was an unnatural stillness. Somewhere thunder rumbled on the horizon of things and the swollen, grey belly of the clouds seemed ready to split wide open at any moment. I was hot, I was sweating and I’d very definitely had enough.
‘Two seconds, Varley, to get through that door,’ I called. ‘That’s all you’ve got.’
The end of things for him, too, I suppose, and he spun to face me, snarling like a trapped animal. ‘Just you fucking well try to make me!’
I started to run at him, he turned and made for the door, too late. The flat of my hand caught him between the shoulder blades, sending him headfirst through the doorway, to fall on his hands and knees by the steps.
I stood just inside the door, breathing hard. ‘Now get upstairs.’
I was aware of the woodwork room door opening, and Wally appeared. Varley crouched there for a moment then came up suddenly, that belt of his free in his hand, the badges glinting. I managed to grab hold of the end before he could strike a blow, and threw it into the corner.
I can see his white, pinched face now as he rushed at me in the gloom, the hatred blazing in his eyes, for me, for the whole world. There was a flurry of ineffectual blows, one landing on my cheek rather unpleasantly, then he tried to put his knee into my groin. There seemed to be only one thing to do after that, and I punched him in the stomach as hard as I could.
He doubled over in pain, and Wally grabbed him by the collar and ran him into the woodwork room, which was empty, for, by chance, he was enjoying a free period before taking my class.
I stayed by the door, panting for breath, hands shaking. Wally shoved Varley down into a chair, came back, and offered me a cigarette from an old battered silver case with some sort of regimental badge on the cover.
‘What should I do?’ I said as he gave me a light.
‘No use going to Carter,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to handle it yourself. Unless you want to make a police job of it.’ He picked up the belt. They wouldn’t have much difficulty in describing this as an offensive weapon.’
‘But you don’t think I should?’
‘Not unless you want them to do the job for you.’ He took out his pipe and filled it methodically. ‘I’ll back you all the way, whatever you decide.’
He had placed the belt over the end of the banister. I picked it up and nodded. ‘All right, give me five minutes with him, then you can
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