The Tooth Fairy by Graham Joyce Page A

round and inspected the box that had been unpacked, checked and packed again.
    ‘All correct?’
    ‘Yes, Skip.’
    The next section of the evening comprised games. Skip stood on a chair with a whistle shouting, ‘Port,’ ‘Starboard,’ ‘Freeze,’ ‘Thaw’ and one or two other commands. Scouts charged back and forth in tumult. Sam, like Clive and Terry, tried to imitate what the others were doing, but without really grasping the rules they were all eliminated early. They stood around for twenty minutes until a winner was declared; whereupon the game was repeated, all three again making an early exit.
    The third slice of the evening was set aside for Badge Work. This involved free association with other patrols while Skip and his assistant leader were kept busy testing people in various arcane skills. Suddenly Sam found himself roughly bundled against the wall and lifted clean off his feet by Tooley. He was covered by his friend Lance, the boy with the appalling teeth, who stood close but with his back to them, keeping watch for Skip. ‘Those other two new boys. Friends of yours?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Tooley let him down, pretending to dust off his shirt. ‘Eagles chin Merlins, Falcons and Owls, don’t we, Lance?’
    ‘Yep. Chin ’em hard.’
    ‘You’re going to start with your pals.’
    ‘What?’
    Tooley put his ugly face very close. Sam could smell tobacco on his breath. ‘Never ‘‘what’’ me, right? Never ‘‘what’’ me. Yes, Tooley. No, Tooley. But never ‘‘what’’. Right?’
    ‘Yes, Tooley.’
    ‘What’s his name? Your mate with the stick-out ears.’
    ‘Clive.’
    ‘Right. You chin him before the evening is out, right?’
    ‘No!’
    ‘Please yourself. If you don’t, we’re going to pull your shorts down, and my friend Lance is gonna fuck you up your arse, right, Lance?’
    ‘Right.’
    ‘Remember: before the evening is out.’ Tooley turned from his ministrations, and both he and Lance blended effortlessly back into Badge Work. Sam looked at Terry, who was seated on a chair looking slightly pale, and at Clive who, in being taught how to tie a knot, seemed happy enough. Lance looked up and gave Sam a gorgeous flash of green-and-black dentures.
    Sam felt faint. Skip came by. ‘Everything all right?’
    ‘Yes,’ Sam said weakly. ‘Yes.’
    ‘That’s the stuff. All seems strange at first, but you’ll get used to it.’
    The appointed hour was approaching fast. Sam felt increasingly dizzy, what with Tooley squeezing past him every few minutes to tap his wristwatch and Lance intermittently beaming him beautiful mouthfuls of rotting teeth. When Skip stepped out of the classroom for a moment, Sam recognized all the signs of an engineered diversion. He stepped across the room towards Clive, fists clenched. Terry meanwhile beckoned him over, but he was not to be distracted. Clive had his back turned. He tapped Clive on the shoulder, but before he could do anything, a small fist hit him stingingly hard in the side of the mouth. Terry stood back, his fist still raised. Clive instantly looked up and punched Terry hard, and not in revenge for the blow inflicted on Sam, at the exact moment Sam landed a sharp blow to the side of Clive’s nose.
    Skip came back into the room to see all Scouts busy but for three new Tenderfoots dazed and confused in the middle of the room. ‘All right, lads? That’s the stuff, back to your patrols. Time for the flag.’
    Sam, Terry and Clive lined up at the rear of theirrespective patrols, each nursing a sore, bruised face as the Union Jack was unfurled. They saluted along with everyone else. All Scouts enthusiastically chanted the Scout Law. ‘I promise on my honour to do my best to do my duty to serve God, Queen and country and at all times to obey the Scout Law.’
    Then it was all over, and Moody Linda was waiting for them outside, resplendent in her blue uniform, slightly flushed with the small pleasures that a successful evening of Guiding can bring