by J. J. Moody
He edged away back to the group, which was pretending not to look at Ms Villeneuve as she addressed the man who had been lying on the seats.
“Mr Evren please, I have asked you before. You are not to sleep here on the bleachers like a” – she paused momentarily – “beggar”. Her perfect composure and posture cracked just a little.
The man had turned and sat up, but did not look directly at Ms Villeneuve. Instead he gazed at the pool. Ben noticed it was the same man who had been painting the chimney earlier.
“Yes Ms Villeneuve,” he said, with a low, musical accent that sounded quite at home in the old school.
Then he stood up, taking his mop and bucket, and turned to Ms Villeneuve. He appeared about the same age as the headmistress, but there was something very much older about him. Perhaps it was his beaten clothes and cap, or his craggy face and paint-dappled hands. He smiled softly, disarmingly, but his eyes were sharper even than Ms Villeneuve’s.
The headmistress seemed to lose her composure once again.
“Yes,” she said. Her eyes dropped away, and she turned back to the group, which was watching Mr Evren intently.
“Let’s move on,” Ms Villeneuve said, and they began to walk back toward the changing rooms.
As they left, Ben glanced back at the pool quickly, and then at the strange man. He was motionless, watching the pool. But just at that moment, he turned to look straight at Ben.
That evening Ben eagerly took Toby and Paddy to the little park just up the road and played in the late summer sun that had burst through the drizzle as they arrived home. The aching in his chest all but disappeared as he chased after Toby, rolled on the wet grass with Paddy, and laughed till he was too tired to move. Toby rode on his back, and they pretended to be warriors on horseback valiantly fending off Paddy the terrible dragon, and for a brief while all the coming changes were packed away out of his mind.
Three weeks later, Ben started at Hulstead College.
Before they left home, his parents took almost half an hour posing him for photographs in his new school blazer on the front doorstep. He noticed several other children being put through a similar ritual as he glanced up and down the road.
When they were finally satisfied, his parents delivered him to the stone steps of the Great Hall, and hugged him vigorously. He felt the ache in his chest returning as he waved goodbye to them. Finally, after they were out of sight, he joined the herd of other uniformed children trudging off towards their classrooms.
Ben’s heart pounded above the chatter of children as he climbed the stairs to the second floor of the Newton Building, and walked down the long, gloomy corridor to room 2D. He walked through the open door into a small classroom, which contained about thirty wooden desks, arranged in six columns. There were a handful of other students who had already claimed the desks at the back of the room, and were playing on their phones, relaxing into their new territory. At the head of the class was a large table, and an enormous blackboard covered the front wall behind it. He carefully selected a seat in the first column against a wall, and in the middle row, hoping that this would avoid the prominence of a front row seat, but also the appearance of mischief from proximity to the back row, and therefore maintain a balance of anonymity as far as possible. There was also a large boy seated directly in the line of sight from this desk to the teacher’s, which would further advance his strategy.
Room 2D gradually filled up as it drew closer to 8.45am, and Ben met some of his new classmates. A girl called Lucy Day walked in soon after he did, and smiled at everyone, before sitting directly in front of him. She had a little white streak in her dark brown hair, and earring studs in the shape of tiny pineapples and strawberries.
“Hi I’m Lucy Day,” she said with a beaming smile that was as white as a toothpaste advert. “What’s your name?”
“Ben Silverstone,” Ben replied, trying to remember if he had brushed his teeth in the hurry that morning.
“Do you live in the village?”
“Yes we just moved to Pickall road a few weeks ago, to the little cottage on the corner.”
“Oh wow that’s a beautiful house I’ve always dreamed of living there!” She was still beaming.
“It’s a bit old, but my parents really like it I suppose. Where do you live then?”
“I live over in East Hulstead near the East Hulstead Tavern, so it was really easy to walk here up the hill.”
Ben wasn’t sure exactly where East Hulstead or the East Hulstead Tavern were. He talked to Lucy for a while before the other students seated near him arrived. She didn’t seem to have any of the first day nerves that Ben and some of the other students did, and helped relax all of her neighbours.
Behind Ben sat Jordan Knight, who Ben had met on the school tour with Ms Villeneuve. They exchanged a few pleasantries, but Jordan seemed more interested in shouting over Ben towards Lucy than talking to him.
Ben had the wall to his right, but to his left, a tall, lean and tanned boy called Freddy sat, whom Ben thought looked far too old to be in his year. Freddy and Jordan seemed to know each other already and quickly became absorbed in discussing their summer holidays and sporting achievements.
Sylvie arrived with Lucy and sat next to her. She was a French exchange student spending a term at Hulstead College and staying with Lucy.
“I.... do not speak se good English, I ‘ope se teachers will be nice to me, do you think?” she said.
“I’m sure they will be,” Ben responded. They talked for a while about her school in Paris, which sounded even older than Hulstead College.
Behind Freddy was a boy called Hidashi, who had grown up in London and was now boarding at Hulstead College because his parents had moved back to Tokyo. He laughed a lot at everything Ben and anyone else said to him and seemed very happy to be there.
Room 2D finally reached its full capacity, and the noise of the children inside it reached an almost deafening intensity. Then, just after the school bell rang for the beginning of classes, the students began to discern a soft thudding noise, and slowly quietened to listen more closely. The thudding was causing puffs of dust to fly off the blackboard and up from the table at the front of the room, and it was even making some of their pencil cases rattle towards the edges of the desks as it grew louder and louder. Finally the thudding stopped, and the door swung open. The most massive, muscular man Ben had ever set eyes on stooped through the doorway, and thudded towards his table. The children coughed and shielded themselves from little pieces of the ceiling falling onto them. After a moment of rearranging the papers at his desk while the dust settled, the man took up a single sheet and a pen, and introduced himself.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Mr Lomonosovsky,” he pronounced in a thick accent.
Jordan and Freddy sniggered loudly, but Mr Lomonosovsky was unphased. He probably could have squeezed the life out of each of them at the same time without much effort at all if he had chosen, Ben thought.
He quickly took the roll call, and then began. “We start this first day with Science, of Physics. So what is Physics, for you?” He waited.
“It’s a type of science,” Hidashi shouted eagerly, “to do with movement, and things like that”.
Mr Lomonosovsky was pleased. “Yes good. Very good. This class is obvious to be one of strong ones.” He seemed to flex an enormous bicep, and Ben worried his shirt would tear.
“Physics is movement yes, and power and energy.” He paced across the room towards the blackboard as if to demonstrate. “Physics teaches us about concepts of matter” - he crushed the chalk to the blackboard, leaving a powder trail falling from the words as he wrote - “and energy, and how these interact to give us things like heat, light, sound, electricity, magnetism, and so on.” He waved his hands as if collecting all of these things in a mighty ball.
Mr Lomonosovsky continued to thud around as he discussed the concepts and structure of the curriculum. Ben started to wonder how much food he ate to become so enormous, an
d imagined whole farms of cows and chickens awaiting slaughter for his meals at his home. The floor seemed strained with each step.
“I have the strongest record of examination results in this year group, and I must retain that. The formula for perfect results is” - he turned back on the blackboard and, finding his previous chalk destroyed, pulled out a new piece - “hard work + attention.” He paused, turning back to them. “You must study hard, complete your homework on schedule, and ensure you train your minds to reach potential. You must pay attention to everything – every detail – I teach you in this classroom. If you fail, I will notice. I carefully monitor performance statistics for this class, and you will be punished.”
There was a collective gulp.
Ben was not surprised to see Mr Lomonosovsky walking towards the gymnasium building after the class.
Towards the end of his first day, Ben went back to the gymnasium himself, for the first of the week’s exercise sessions, which was a swimming class. He changed into his Hulstead College swimming shorts beside Freddy, who had brought with him an expensive looking pair of swimming goggles. Ben tried to laugh at his jokes about how many girls from the years above them he had managed to kiss in the school holidays.
Inside the pool room, Ben shivered, recalling how cold it had been on his previous visit. The gym teacher was Mr Taylor, who separated them into groups and instructed them on the way the class would proceed. Ben was disappointed to be put into a lane group with Jordan and Freddy, but he tried to mimic some of their confident gestures and avoid shivering as best he could. He noticed Mr Evren dozing on the bleachers again, and wondered how anyone could ever fall asleep in this cold, damp, dark place.
The class began, and Ben began swimming laps up and down the pool. He felt his heart quicken as he glided over the dark deep end the first few times, and tried not to look downward. He was glad to find nothing rising up and attacking him, and felt more and more confident as he swam, easily overtaking Freddy, and drawing up towards Jordan.
The session ended with a whistle just as Ben cruised up beside Jordan.
“Great session Taylor!” Jordan shouted. He turned to Ben as he removed his goggles. “Not bad Silverstone, you thrashed Freddy!”
Freddy’s head emerged slowly from the water with a glum expression unconcealed by his expensive goggles. “Rubbish pool,” he muttered. “No wonder someone got drowned in it. And can’t they afford heating?”
“Don’t be such a wuss Rothburg,” Jordan laughed. “They keep it cold on purpose to keep the blood pumping faster or something.”
Mr Taylor had finished the class and was instructing people to get changed, and get going to their next classes as he moved towards the exit.
“Silverstone, shall we just get in a couple extra?” Jordan asked casually.
Ben felt a surge of panic. “What, now?”
“Yeah.” Jordan was already putting his goggles back on.
Ben looked at Freddy, who stared back at him blankly. He was caught, fearful of disappointing Freddy and Jordan, but worried about being late for his next class. He attempted to hide his concern, and pulled his goggles back down over his eyes to set off.
Ben’s heart beat faster now, but not because of the pool. He accelerated hard, catching sight of Jordan’s splashes ahead of him. Jordan swam back past in the other direction, and Ben estimated he was ten or so strokes behind him. He barely noticed the depths of the pool as he turned, following Jordan back to the shallows.
How long would Jordan swim for? Ben thought. When would they stop, and go to the next class? Perhaps Jordan didn’t have to go to one for some reason – maybe he had a free period? He tried to catch sight of the clock in between breaths. His heart beat hard.
Ben turned again. How many more lengths had past? Was he heading back to the shallow end, or towards the deep one? He looked up ahead of him, and saw the building darkness. His heart fell. Suddenly he was more aware than ever of where he was in this strange pool, and swimming towards the deep dark waters. And where was Jordan now? He should have seen him go past in the opposite direction by now. Come to think of it, had he seen him go past in the previous lap, or the one before?
He swam hard. He felt cold, in spite of the all the strain of his swimming. The water seemed to be heavier, and rougher. His limbs began to ache. Despite his renewed efforts he seemed to be going slower. He must be near the end by now. Where was it?
He tried not to look down, but the more he tried, the more he began to glimpse dark shadows beneath him. He imagined things watching him from below as they circled, and he started to feel like he was being held, and tugged downwards.
He pushed hard again, and with relief, his fingertips hit the edge. He seized it quickly with both hands, and pulled his weary body out of the pool, rolling away from the edge. He drew deep breaths, and finally rose onto his knees, looking back at the pool.
“Lesson is over. You best be on your way.” The musical voice of Mr Evren came from a few steps away. He tilted his head slightly and squinted as he rubbed his stubbled chin, appraising Ben.
Ben stared back at Mr Evren, and then at the pool. He gasped for air. He didn’t know what to say, even if he had breath to say it.
“You are a good swimmer” - Evren turned his eyes to the pool - “but it’s dangerous to swim in the pool by yourself.”
Ben coughed. After a moment he nodded, and jogged towards the changing rooms.
He quickly showered, and dressed for the next class. He knew he was late.
His chest ached again as he reluctantly knocked at the next classroom, and entered. The teacher and other students stared at him as he apologised for being tardy and hurried his way to the last remaining desk, which was directly in front of the teacher. She waited for him to open his bag and take out his pencil case, and then continued writing on the blackboard. Ben stared into space for most of the class.
At the end of the final class of Ben’s first day at Hulstead College, the cold early evening had already begun to set in, and by the time Ben had walked home through the village it was almost dark. The streetlights struggled to illuminate Pickall road, as he made his way to his new home. He was glad to receive the hugs from his mother, and to be welcomed back into the warm glow of the kitchen. Paddy emerged with Toby to greet him, and whimpered until he was patted to satisfaction. But even the laughter and warmth could not completely dispel the ache in Ben’s chest.
A few days later, Ben had his first English lesson. Mrs Greenleaf’s voice was like a soft lullaby, and he needed to concentrate very hard to avoid drifting off to sleep as she introduced the Greek play ‘Oedipus The King’, as their first study. Lucy had read it already, and turned and smiled at Ben excitedly.
Mrs Greenleaf called upon certain students to play the characters through each section, as they read through together during the class. Mrs Greenleaf asked Ben to play the hero Oedipus during one scene, and chose Lucy to play his wife Jocasta. Ben blushed as he read the loving words in front of the class, and predictably, Jordan couldn’t resist making fun.
“Try not to drool on your desk ‘Salivastone’!”
Ben didn’t dare turn around, and tried to ignore the laughter.
Mrs Greenleaf talked a lot, but later must have noticed the yawns from around the room, and decided to wake everyone up.
“What do we think is underlying these words – what is Oedipus thinking?” She looked around the room. Her eyes rested for a split second on Ben’s, and he felt the blood rushing to his face in horror. He quickly looked downward, and pretended to be re-reading the section. He held his breath and hid, only releasing it with a stifled gasp when Mrs Greenleaf had settled on Lucy again.
“He’s worried that the prophecy might be true,” Lucy said excitedly. “He is worried that he might not be who he thinks he is. And that is beginning to shake his foundations a bit.”
“Yes, perfectly perceptive as always Miss Day,” Mrs Greenleaf responded with a pleased smile.
“What a
pile of rubbish,” Freddy and Jordan laughed to each other at the end of the class, as they rushed out to the playground for break.
Lucy turned towards Ben, and grinned with her white smile again. “So do you like the play Ben?”
Ben flushed, a million interpretations rushing into his head. What was going on here? Had he done something amusing? Was Lucy mocking him? Was this a trick? He finally managed to smile back, but at his own desk. He didn’t dare look up at her reaction. “Not bad,” he muttered to his pencil case, and immediately wondered what had possessed him to say such a thing. He frantically searched for something better to say about the words or the story, but by the time he had finished packing his bag and looked up, Lucy had gone.
He replayed the moment in his mind endlessly in a search for the perfect response as he walked home later that day.
“So how was your day today love?” Ben’s mother asked, as they ate dinner. His parents both looked at him eagerly. Toby munched on his soggy pasta beside them, a thin tomato and pesto moustache framing his mouth.
“It was alright I guess.” Ben decided not to mention anything of the excitement with Lucy although that was all he could think about. “We did English today, and started reading a play called ‘Oedipus The King’.”
“Oh that’s great I think I did that one when I was at school!” Ben’s father said. “Isn’t that the one about a hippopotamus called Eddy?”
Ben’s mother sighed as his father chuckled at his own joke. “Don’t be silly Steven! I’m so proud of you Ben, getting into that posh school and reading Greek plays in your first week!”
They both grinned at Ben widely.
The end of the week was in sight, and Ben was feeling great relief, by the time Tim Wisecroft arrived in his class. Ben didn’t notice him that day until English, when Mrs Greenleaf asked a question about the reading of Oedipus they had just been through.
