Chapter Nine
Maggie’s mouth dropped open.
“Ok,” she stammered. “That’s fine. Sure.”
“I’ll give you a call,” said Gareth, “and we’ll get together in the Senior Common Room one lunchtime. One of the photography students has taken some photographs of the game. We’ll wait until those are developed, then choose whatever we think is best for the magazine. I’d like to send an article in to our local paper, too.”
“Wow,” croaked Maggie. “Okay.” She walked off in a daze to find her father, who was sitting on a bench outside the staff room with his ankle heavily bandaged. Nick was giving him a blow by blow description of the game.
“Maggie was amazing,” he said. “She was so confident.”
“No, I wasn’t,” said Maggie, “but I did it anyway. It was much easier with linesmen,” she added.
Maggie found herself suddenly very popular in the next few days. Her classmates, many of whom had complained bitterly about having to keep a journal for Mr Marshall, were now united in their support for her. Excitement increased as the class took their fitness tests and the day of the end of term assembly approached.
“You’re sure to win the prize for the best journal,” whispered Melanie as they took their places in the assembly hall on the last day of term. Maggie couldn’t speak. Her fingers were firmly crossed for luck. They listened to the jazz band play and joined in the school song. The headmaster gave the usual speech about ‘trying hard at all times’ and ‘behaving responsibly in the holidays.’ Various notices were read out and mid-year subject achievement certificates were presented. At last Mr Marshall stepped forward.
“I have a special announcement to make,” he said. “At a suggestion from one of the pupils, my Year 9 English class had a fitness test and kept a weekly journal to record their involvement in sports and exercise programmes during the term. I am delighted to tell you that nearly all the class kept up their journal and improved their fitness level. They will be rewarded with a trip to the mountain one day next term.”
Maggie’s class promptly cheered. Jacob put his fingers between his teeth and whistled, which drew a rebuking frown from the headmaster. Mr Marshall raised his hand for silence.
“I also promised a prize to the student with the best kept journal. This is going to a pupil who has excelled in their chosen sport and brought great credit to the school. This pupil has done well in more than one sport and has been recognised at both Regional and National level. The award goes to – Seth Hardy.”
There was an outbreak of applause and more whistling from Jacob as a beaming Seth walked up the hall and climbed the steps to the stage. Mr Marshall handed him a certificate and a book voucher. Maggie clapped hard. She had been so sure she would win. She bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from crying. Mr Marshall sat down with the other teachers.
The headmaster stepped forward.
“Before you go,” he said, “we have one more award. It was decided through discussion with the PTA that the school should offer an achievement award each year for any junior student who has contributed in an outstanding manner to an aspect of school life.” He motioned to his deputy, Ms Shirley, who carried forward a huge silver cup. The students gasped. The headmaster continued. “This award goes to a student who is probably not our best student either academically or in the sports area. However, she has shown that by determined effort it is possible to make a great contribution to our school. I refer, of course, to our young referee, Maggie Johnson. Maggie, come forward please.”
Maggie found herself propelled towards the stage by hands patting her on the back as the cheers rang out. She climbed the steps in a daze of happiness and accepted the large cup the headmaster handed to her.
“Well done, Maggie. Would you like to say a few words?” he asked.
“Oh,” said Maggie, modestly, “it was nothing, really!”
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