‘Well, if you’ve got any better ideas, you tell me.’
Al looked round at them all. They were standing in the playground, forlorn, despondent. They’d tried everything, explored every avenue, examined every possibility, but to no avail. Grandmas, sisters, cousins, neighbours—there was always some reason why any one or other of them couldn’t be asked. So each and every one or other had been rejected, always reluctantly, always with an ever-mounting sense of frustration. With the list exhausted, they found themselves left with only one alternative. And it could not be said that any of them viewed it with much enthusiasm…
‘Well?’ he said. ‘Have you got any better ideas?’
Each of them in turn mumbled something inaudible and shook his head. No, they hadn’t.
‘Well, then,’ he said simply. ‘We’ve got no choice, have we.’
‘So what you’re saying,’ said Eddie, ‘is that if we want to do this, we’ve got to make these toy rats ourselves.’
‘That’s about the measure of it. I know it sucks but I don’t see any other way round it.’
‘In other words, we’ve got to learn how to sew,’ said Jon. ‘Yeah, right, I can just see us lot doing that.’
‘And if we are gonna do it,’ said Tony, ‘we’ve got to find someone who’ll teach us. And I can see that happening even more. Sorry, Al, but maybe we should just forget the whole stupid idea.’
‘What! And then we’ve got to do Cookery for the rest of the year. You want that?’
They didn’t and he knew they didn’t. He pursued it, rammed home the prospect of an eternity of Miss Palmer and her fairy cakes.
‘And never mind just the rest of the year, it’ll be for the rest of our time at school. You want that?’
‘Well…no,’ said Tony. ‘But how are we gonna do this, Al? I mean, look what we’re up against.’
‘Look,’ he said patiently, ‘all we have to do is stitch a few bits of cloth together an’ stuff them with something that’ll pad them out here an’ there an’ we’re done. It’s not as if we gotta make them move or anything like that.’
‘Yeah but we’ve still got to get that far. Sorry but I think it’s a bit more complicated than you think.’
‘And we’ve still got to make them look real,’ Jon reminded him, ‘or at least real enough to fool old Palm Trees into thinking she’s eaten one. That’s gonna take some doing.’
‘Oh, you think?’ said Al. ‘Remember they’re gonna be covered with gravy an’ stuff like that so they don’t need to be anything fancy. Surely we can manage that.’
‘I dunno,’ said Tony. ‘Like I said, sewing really is a bit more than just digging a needle into a couple of pieces of rag an’ hoping they’ll hold together. I should know, I’ve watched me mum do it enough times. We’ve gotta learn, Al.’
‘There’s books.’
‘Yeah, like we’ve got the money to buy books,’ said Jon.
‘That’s what libraries are for, yer berk!’
‘So are you gonna walk in an’ ask the librarian for a book on sewing?’
‘If I have to,’ said Al indignantly. ‘How are we gonna do it, otherwise?’
‘Get someone to teach us,’ said Eddie quietly.
‘We’ve been through that one already,’ said Jon. ‘An’ we keep coming back to that one question—who?’
They fell into silence, the three of them, each lost in his thoughts. Al shook his head wearily: this was not the way he’d planned it. His Great Idea was faltering, was about ready to be consigned to the scrapheap labelled Might-Have-Beens that was the fate of so many of their ideas. They’d tried their best, he had to admit, but every last option was gone. Only one thing for it: backtrack and see if they’d missed anything along the way.
‘Tony,’ he said, ‘has your sister forgiven you yet?’
Tony looked up, suddenly uneasy, suddenly looking like he didn’t want to answer. ‘Uh…not yet. Why?’
‘Because she could have helped us out, that’s why. I don’t suppose there’s any chance she might…you know…’
‘Uh…I don’t think so.’
‘Not even if we sucked up to her an’ said sorry for yesterday?’
He peered at his friend hopefully, at the only real way out of this dead-end, but his friend’s look said it all.
‘Not a good idea,’ Tony said quickly. ‘Especially after what I did last night.’
‘Why, what happened?’
‘You do not want to know.’
‘Yes we do,’ said Al. ‘What did you do?’
They gathered round him, expecting to hear the worst, even hoping to hear the worst. Tony just looked down at his feet.
‘Let’s just say it had something to do with half a tube of toothpaste and the loo brush,’ he said quietly.
They glanced at each other, eyebrows raised: no doubt about it, he was as crazy as she was.
‘Well, I guess that’s her definitely out, then,’ said Al. ‘You know, when you foul something up, you really foul it up, don’t you?’
‘Sorry.’
‘Forget it.’ He looked round at his friends again. ‘Come on, there’s got to be a way. There’s got to be someone we can get to teach us how to sew.’
But it seemed a distant prospect. Any adult they asked, questions would be asked of them in turn, questions they did not even dare to begin to answer. That then left only sisters, and since Tony alone amongst them actually had a sister, that door was closed to them as well. Even as he was thinking this, Al felt a nudge in his ribs.
‘Look who’s here,’ Jon was saying.
He looked. They all looked. It was the new boy, the one from Chapworthy College they had so rudely introduced to the school the previous day. The experience seemed to have had some effect on him for he was wandering alone by the fence, not making any attempt to communicate with anyone else, trying hard to blend in with what little background a fence round a playground had to offer.
Tony sniggered. ‘Shall we ask him if he wants the bogs again?’
‘You leave him alone,’ said Al. ‘Remember what Franklinstein said yesterday? He covered for us so this must be one okay guy.’
There were murmurs of agreement, Jon adding: ‘He doesn’t look very happy, does he?’
‘Probably feeling a bit out of place,’ said Al. ‘You know how it is—new faces and you don’t know any of them.’
‘Yeah, does look a bit lonely, don’t he?’ said Eddie.
‘Maybe,’ Al said tentatively, ‘we should…you know…’
‘What?’ said Tony. ‘You mean go and say Hi?’
‘Why not? Don’t you think we owe him something, especially after what we did to him? And even more especially after what he did for us afterwards.’
‘Well…yeah…maybe…’
‘Okay, gang vote. Hands up all those in favour of going and talking to the new kid.’
Four hands were raised.
‘Okay, let’s go.’
They strolled over to the fence, trying their best not to look menacing. Even so, as they approached him, he looked up, saw them coming and backed off in stark terror. But again, he only had so far to go before all hope of escape was blocked. This time, it was the fence, and he grabbed it with both hands and held on—hard!
‘It’s okay,’ said Al easily, ‘we just wanted to say Hi.’
‘Oh. Right,’ said the boy, not relaxing his grip. ‘Hello.’
‘Yeah, that and thanks for yesterday.’
‘Thanks? For what?’
‘For not splitting on us to Franklinstein.’
‘Franklinstein?’ he repeated, puzzled.
‘Mrs. Franklin,’ said Al. ‘Otherwise known as She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed. You know! The headmistress?’
‘Oh, that. Think nothing of it. Only thing I could do, really, under the circumstances.’
‘Yeah, well, thanks. Right, guys?’
They sort of mumbled something that could have been thanks without actually sounding like it.
‘And sorry for the w
et trousers,’ Al went on. ‘We just got a bit carried away. So, sorry. Right, guys?’
Another mumble, even less clear than before.
‘Right, guys?’ Al said again and louder.
There was a chorus of mutterings of ‘Yeah, yeah, sorry an’ all that stuff.’
‘Apology accepted,’ said the new boy. ‘As you say, just a bit of fun that got out of hand. No real harm done.’
Al looked at him, at this newcomer who’d acted like an old and trusted friend, an ally against the never-ending war against the scourge of every teenager’s life—teachers. His first impressions had been right, this guy did not belong here. He was too refined and restrained. He couldn’t imagine this cultured creature standing up and creating mayhem while the teacher was out of the classroom, or spreading ink on the seats in the girls’ toilets, or—or anything, really, that they got up to in order to make the schoolday just that little bit more bearable. But for all that, he seemed okay, seemed like someone they could get along with, and that counted for a lot.
‘Right,’ he said, ‘now that’s out of the way, I guess it’s time for a few names. I’m Alex—but everyone calls me Al. This haggard berk suffering from a big sister is Tony. This thick arse who looks like he’s always forgetting his own name is Eddie. And this, the only one of us with any brains except me, is Jon.’
‘Delighted to make your proper acquaintance.’ He started shaking hands all round. They responded uncertainly, like this was not something they were used to.
‘So what’s your name?’ said Al when he’d finished.
‘I’m so sorry, most impolite of me. The name’s Pike.’
‘Uh…is that a first or second name?’
‘Second, of course. My first is…’ He hesitated, looked embarrassed. ‘…er…Sebastian.’
It took a moment for that one to sink in.
‘Sebastian,’ Al repeated slowly.
‘My parents’ fault,’ said Sebastian Pike. ‘They didn’t want an ordinary name for their one and only offspring so they settled on something a little, shall we say, exceptional?’
‘Well, they got that right,’ said Al. ‘I’ve got to say, it’s gonna take some getting used to.’
‘Stuff that,’ said Jon. ‘I ain’t calling anyone Sebastian, least of all a member of this gang.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Sebastian Pike, puzzled. ‘I wasn’t aware I’d signed up with your, er…gang.’
‘Hey, you’ve got to be with us,’ said Al. ‘We’ll show you what’s what with the teachers, what kids to avoid, how to skive off morning assembly—all that sort of stuff.’
‘All essential to the success of one’s school career, I agree,’ said Sebastian Pike. Then he was looking a little uneasy, was glancing nervously at them all again. ‘Er…is there an initiation ceremony?’
They laughed. ‘If there is,’ said Al, ‘you went through it yesterday. So how about it? You gonna hang out with us?’
Sebastian Pike shrugged. ‘Why not? After all, we’ve been introduced, I’ve been initiated—yes, why not?’
‘Great! You guys okay with this?’
A chorus of approval rang out, the first time he’d seen them happy all day. There was, however, one small problem still to be addressed.
‘Sebastian!’ Tony muttered darkly. ‘Bit of a mouthful, ain’t it? Can’t we shorten it or something?’
‘I believe one can,’ said Sebastian Pike. ‘I believe the correct abbreviation is Seb.’
‘Seb,’ Jon repeated dubiously. ‘Sounds a bit foreign to me.’
‘That’s the first three letters,’ said Tony. ‘Can’t we use his last three, call him Ian?’
‘I would have objections to that, I fear,’ said Sebastian Pike.
‘Bit of a problem, then,’ said Al, scratching his head.
‘And I may have the solution.’
‘Yeah? How?’
‘Well, my compatriots at my own school couldn’t bring themselves to use my given name either, so they settled on a rather unique and imaginative solution.’
‘Which was…?’
‘They took my first initial and run it into my surname, so forming the nickname Spike. It sort of stuck, and I have to say I’m now really rather attached to it.’
‘Hey, neat!’ said Jon. ‘I can go along with calling someone Spike.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ said Tony. ‘Beats plain old Sebastian any day.’
‘Spike,’ Eddie murmured. ‘Yeah, I like that.’
‘Well,’ said Al, ‘if you’re okay with that, then so are we. Spike it is.’
‘I’m glad that’s settled.’
‘So,’ said Al, ‘you’re here on this exchange scheme. Bit of a bummer, huh.’
‘Indeed. You might say I drew the short straw.’
‘Why? Didn’t you want to come?’
‘Let’s just say I didn’t have much say in the matter.’
‘Oh, right! Just told you to get out there and get on with it, yeah?’
‘Not exactly. You see, my being here probably has more to do with the fact that my father plays golf with my headmaster who also happens to play golf with your headmistress’s husband—’
They groaned a chorus of ‘Right!’ and ‘So that’s it!’
‘—so I was sort of the natural choice. Believe me, I’m not here through any intrinsic merit of my own. Or choice, come to that.’
‘Do you mind being here, then?’ said Al, picking up on that.
‘Time will tell. It’s new experience, which is always a good thing, however one feels about it at the time—even yesterday,’ he added with a grin.
They laughed, felt uneasily, embarrassed. Just as Franklinstein said they would, dammit!
‘Well,’ said Al,’ since you’re here, you might as well make the best of it. Like I say, stick with us and we’ll keep you out of trouble. Anything you want to know?’
‘Well, as a matter of fact, I haven’t actually found the toilets yet.’
‘Why? Do you want to go again?’ said Tony brightly.
‘No,’ said Spike carefully, ‘I was merely asking for future reference.’
‘We’ll show you where they are,’ said Jon. ‘Just yell.’
‘And about yesterday—,’ Al began.
Spike shook his head. ‘No more to be said. Apology has been made and accepted. The matter is closed.’
‘No, I know that, it’s just…I don’t know…Why did you cover for us? And after what we did to you.’
‘Oh, that!’ He shrugged, dismissive. ‘Right thing to do, really. Have to stick together and all that. I mean, teachers are the same everywhere, aren’t they?’
‘You got that right,’ said Al with feeling.
‘And it got me the afternoon off, and that in turn got me out of History.’
‘Don’t you like History?’ said Eddie.
‘Can’t stand it. I mean, let’s face it, there’s no future in it.’
It took a moment for that one to sink in, then they were laughing again, long and loud.
‘No future in History,’ said Jon. ‘I like that.’
‘So what sort of subjects do you do at school?’ said Al. ‘I mean, our lessons are boring. We never get taught anything interesting. Same for you?’
‘By and large,’ said Spike ruefully. ‘And as if that were not enough, I’m afraid our school has rather succumbed of late to the more progressive way of thinking in education.’
‘Yeah, we know what you mean,’ Al groaned, thinking of their Cookery classes.
‘I mean, would you believe they actually have us—boys, every one of us, mind you—actually have us learning things like sewing?’
Silence. They stared at him, all four of them, suddenly unable to speak. He glanced from one to the other, puzzled.
‘Have I said something wrong?’
SIX