Twenty-past nine and no phone call from Dr Soft to report an accident or delay.
Nine-thirty and Dirk Dashley ran out of patience and told Mrs Smooth to phone Ofsted and find out where Soft Boy had got to.
Three minutes and many stammered apologies later, Mrs Smooth, passed on the conversation she had just had: there was no Ofsted Inspector of that name and so no Inspector would be calling.
“We’ve been had!” yelled the Head, now reduced to a mere Mr Dirk Dashley. “Hoaxed! I knew there was something odd about him when he kept calling me Arthur.”
Mr Dashley sat down in the foyer, head in hands, playing through the conversation he had had with Dr Ed Soft the previous day: he seemed to know so much about the school and had even gone to the trouble of finding out the names of many of the children across the ability range with whom he wished to speak.
The revered leader looked up, wondering how he was going to explain the disaster away to the readers of the “Southport Evening Standard”, only to see Arry Trumper passing by, enthusiastically whistling Pharell Williams’s up-lifting anthem “Happy” and clutching a well-thumbed copy of “Anagrams for dummies”.
CHAPTER 5
All's Well That Ends Badly
I don’t know about you, probably because I don’t know who you are, but I really like happy endings to books and films. Call me sad, but the happier the ending, the happier I am. I especially like endings where the baddies get caught and get their just desserts after making the lives of other people uncomfortable or just downright miserable. A happy ending makes me feel good about the world and I start to believe that we will all, one day, live happily ever after.
I think that Miss Flowerpot was also a big fan of happy endings because she was also a big fan of the Biffa Blue, Red and Green Trouser books which I mentioned previously. Whoever wrote the books had decided that happy endings were a good thing for children and so in every book, at every level, Biffa came out on top. No matter what difficulties and setbacks he faced, no matter how naughty the other characters were, Biffa ended up winning the day. I shall just give you one example to put you in the picture, just in case you are not familiar with the books. This one also happens to be Miss Flowerpot’s all-time favourite, by the way.
The story I want to tell you about is from the Red Trouser Series (Level 3, sub-level 5c, part 4) in which Biffa’s trousers were stolen off the washing line one morning. This made Biffa cry because he was going to a party that night and wanted to show everyone his special red trousers. They were special, not only because they were rather smart, but also because they had magical powers: Biffa’s red trousers could talk! I must say that I have always wanted a pair of trousers like that, but have never found any, either in the shops or on-line.
What was Biffa to do? Well, what he did was to go round the village where he lived and ask everyone if they had seen his magic talking trousers. First, he asked the postman, but he had no idea what Biffa was talking about. Next, he asked the nice lady who owned the sweet shop and she was very sorry because she knew nothing about the disappearance of the trousers. Then he went to the police station to see if anyone had handed in his magic talking trousers. The kind policemen told Biffa that he had been on duty since midnight and the only thing that had been handed in was a blue sock which could sing.
However, the policeman helpfully suggested to Biffa that he went round to see Simon Snatcher who was the village burglar. He was well known in the area because he was always taking things which did not belong to him. Biffa thought that this was a jolly good idea and so went round to see Simon to ask him if he had stolen any magic trousers that morning.
Biffa knocked politely on the door and a voice from behind the door said that there was nobody in.
“I know you are there Simon Snatcher because I heard your voice,” said Biffa.
“It’s not me, it’s just a pair of magic talking trousers you heard,” shouted Simon angrily.
Biffa did not believe Simon and burst through the door to find that Simon had run off and that the talking trousers had been tied to a chair and gagged with a belt.
“I knew that was Simon Snatcher’s voice,” said Biffa, putting on his magic trousers after releasing them from the chair and untying the belt.
The trousers were really glad to see Biffa and thanked him for saving him from the clutches of naughty Simon Snatcher.
It all ended happily ever after, as Biffa went to the party wearing his smart red talking trousers and Simon Snatcher was boiled in oil.
Now that’s what I call a happy ending and Miss Flowerpot agrees with me. Every time she reads that story out to the class she can hardly hold back the tears of joy at the thought of Biffa getting his magic trousers back and Simon getting punished for being so naughty.
“That’s such a lovely, lovely story boys and girls,” Miss Flowerpot would say, dabbing her eyes with the bow of her lemon blouse. “So we must never steal magic trousers off a washing line must we? Or we might end up like Simon Snatcher and get boiled alive.”
What I have just told you about is just one example from the hundreds of stories in the Biffa the Bear Reading Scheme which the children of the Privy Street School either read or had read to them in the Reception Class.
When Arry was in the Reception Class, he was never keen on the Official Reading Scheme and expressed his dislike by refusing to read about the exploits of Biffa and his impressive wardrobe of coloured trousers. Instead he chose to read books which he enjoyed and thought more relevant to life on the mean streets of Southport. Alternatively, he read some quite naughty books which he knew would annoy Dirk Dashley if he was caught. However, Arry never got caught, either because Arry was too smart for Miss Flowerpot or Miss Flowerpot just decided to look the other way, rather than send him to see Mr Dashley to face the full might of the Discipline Code (Stage 2, Part 5, sub-section 3a: Naughty Books).
Whilst engaged in his irregular reading, Arry would often gaze around the class to look at the other children who did not seem to be appreciating the adventures of Biffa and his smart trousers. Instead, they were staring into space, pretending to read or were just fast asleep. What a waste of existence, thought Arry. Books should be fun!
So when he left the Reception Class, he hatched a rather good plan to help future generations of students at the Privy: Arry decided to improve the Biffa stories by changing the endings. This was a long term project as there were a lot of Biffa books to get through. Luckily, Arry persuaded a couple of friends to help him. I cannot reveal their names to you as the two friends insisted upon complete anonymity: so I shall just call them both Jeffrey. Every night, Arry, Jeffrey and Jeffrey took home five books each and very neatly altered the ending by pasting a new version over the original page.
In order to monitor the progress of their plan, all three managed to slip out of their own classroom, using the excuse of needing the toilet. Miss Flowerpot’s classroom was just down the corridor so it was easy to peep through the window during the Literacy lesson, to see if the children were having fun reading yet.
At first, Arry and the two Jeffreys met with modest success, only seeing the odd child who had reached the end of a story (rather than pretending to get to the end of a story), chuckle and smirk. Then, as more children discovered the improved endings to the stories, they started recommending books to each other. After a few weeks, quite often for the whole of the Literacy lesson, the entire class was laughing, demanding to read more and more about Biffa’s trousers and many of them completing the entire Reading Scheme in less than half the expected time.
“Oh how lovely to see such busy little readers! Ofsted would be proud of all of you,” said Miss Flowerpot every lesson, as children were making rapid progress by zipping through the books and were even demanding to know if there was another series in which Biffa wore some yellow or black trousers, or even some dandy white flannels.
/> Unfortunately, the fad for enjoying reading came to an abrupt end when a child, in his new found enthusiasm for books, took home “Biffa finds some money” (Blue Trouser Series, Level 5, sub-level 1a, part 6). To be honest with you, this was not one of my favourite stories, although after Arry, Jeffrey or Jeffrey had improved it, the story rather grew on me. Having said that, the parents of the little boy who took the book home did not see the new ending as much of an improvement at all; in fact, they were quite annoyed by it and emailed Dirk Dashley to express their annoyance. They described the new ending as “setting a bad example” and characterised Biffa as “a social deviant”. In the original version Biffa found a wallet containing £500 and immediately returned it to the owner, who gave him ten pence as a special reward for his honesty, and Biffa smiled all the way home, pleased that he had done his good deed for the day. In the new version, Biffa thought that the man whose money he had returned had been jolly mean by only giving him a ten pence reward and so he hung him upside down from a lamp-post which, I’m sure that you will agree, was a much happier ending.
Dirk Dashley was a very sensitive man and he was especially sensitive about emails from irate parents, in particular when they involved criticism of Biffa the Bear and his smart trousers. He immediately read through “Biffa finds some money” to check out the claims by the parents. On discovering the irregular ending, Mr Dashley recalled the entire Reading Scheme and read the lot in one afternoon, becoming progressively more horrified at what Biffa and his smart trousers had been getting up to without his knowledge.
“Only you Trumper, only you, could have come up with a scheme like this!”
Dirk Dashley, for once, was absolutely right and Arry did not deny it.
“You are entirely accurate in your level-headed assessment of the situation most revered leader, but I do not seek any public recognition for my modest contribution to the improved literacy levels of our younger students.”
“You just don’t get it do you Trumper? You have vandalised an entire Reading Scheme, changed Biffa from a cuddly bear in smart trousers into some kind of urban delinquent and have succeeded in spoiling the endings of over three hundred stories.”
Harry held up his hand to explain, but was gunned down (metaphorically, you will be pleased to hear) by a volley of verbal bullets from Dirk Dashley, who by now was firing on all cylinders.
Picking up several books from three gigantic colour-coded piles which had been converted into an Unofficial Reading Scheme, Mr Dashley gave a brief overview of Arry’s crimes against Literacy.
“Let’s start with “Biffa visits the hospital” shall we?” (This book was from the Green Trouser Series, by the way). “Unless my memory is faulty, poor Biffa hurt his leg when he fell off his bike. I also seem to remember that he was very upset because he had ripped his smart green trousers which he had only just ironed. As a result of the accident, Biffa walked the two miles in the pouring rain to his local Accident and Emergency Unit and then waited twelve hours to see a nurse. On his way home in the dark, he thought how kind all the nurses had been to him and he whistled merrily because his leg now only hurt a little bit.”
Dirk Dashley paused to heighten the horror of changing perfectly good endings.
“That, Mr Trumper, is a good ending to a story and I know that Miss Flowerpot and the children agree with me. But you have to go and spoil it with a different ending, don’t you? We now read at the end of “Biffa visits the hospital”, and here I quote in full, “In his dissatisfaction at having to wait so long for treatment and having been refused transport home Biffa, dressed only in his string vest and underpants, hi-jacked an ambulance. And then, disguising himself with an ambulance driver’s green hat, he picked up ten soaking elderly people waiting for a taxi in the rain and took them home free of charge, before putting the ambulance on Ebay to raise money for the village soup kitchen.”
The outraged Head paused once again, this time to recover from the trauma of reading the new ending.
“And that’s just for starters Trumper. We now move on to one of my favourites in the Blue Trouser Series which you managed to ruin: does the title “Biffa becomes an Ofsted Inspector” mean anything to you?”
Arry searched the darkest recesses of his memory, but could throw no light on the matter.
“Let me help you out here Trumper, by giving you a brief summary of the story I once enjoyed. Because Biffa had such well-ironed and clean blue trousers and because he wanted to help little boys and girls to enjoy school, he became an Ofsted Inspector. He was going to become a fireman or a doctor, but in the end, decided to help children out by inspecting schools. After a very busy day talking to children and teachers, and looking at lots and lots and lots of facts and figures, he walked out through the school gates singing his favourite song. Everyone had been so happy to see him and he had made lots of friends. The teachers had even said how much they liked his smart blue trousers. Biffa was really pleased that he had not become either a fireman or a doctor. He went to bed early that night, looking forward to making more new friends and making lots of people happy the next day.”
Arry’s memory did not seem to improve with the input of additional data.
“And now what do we read? Did Biffa the Bear become an Ofsted Inspector? Answer: yes he did. Did Biffa the Bear go into a school and talk to the teachers and the children? Answer: yes he did. Did Biffa the Bear sing his favourite song on his way home? Answer: yes he did. And did he make lots of people happy? Answer: yes he did. And how did he make lots of people happy Trumper? Answer: Biffa the Bear drove a large dumper truck into the school playground, loaded it up with all the test papers and target sheets he could find and took it all to a local quarry where he set the lot on fire.”
Arry looked quizzically at the revered leader.
The revered leader stared hard at Arry and said –
Unfortunately, you will never find out what Dirk Dashley said as he was interrupted by the clamour of distressed students banging on his door asking for the return of their stolen Reading Scheme. The main reason being that the Literacy lesson was due to start and many of them had not quite finished their book and they were keen to know what happened in the end.
CHAPTER 6
Arry in the Local Community
Nowadays, schools quite rightly take great pride in playing a big part in their local community. They do this in many different ways, of course: throwing parties for the elderly at Christmas, for example, taking part in projects to make the village or town look spick and span, and so on.
All the students in their final year at the Privy were expected to take part in this kind of community-based learning, as Dirk Dashley called it: it was seen as solid preparation for the transition to Secondary school and also ticked a big Ofsted box. It also gave Dirk Dashley and his Staff the opportunity for a one day transition from stress to rest, a welcome break from having to sort out the most seriously troubled students in their final term stuck, as they saw it, in the Privy. Occasionally, this day of rest was interrupted by a phone call reporting incidents of troubling behaviour, but this did not happen too often, I am pleased to report.
This particular year also gave Mr Dashley and the Staff a welcome rest from Arry and his irregular approaches to learning which, as his final year at the Privy had gone on, had become more and more, let’s say, regularly irregular.
It was the responsibility of the students and their parents to come up with an idea for a challenging Community Project for the day. All ideas were vetted by Dick Dashley personally and were usually passed without discussion: as long as there was a measurable, time-specific outcome, with a clear impact on the progress and well-being of the local community, he was happy. All locations for the projects were given the necessary legal checks to comply with Health and Safety Rules and all adults coming into contact with the student were scrupulously and officially checked.
Most projects Dirk Dashley had seen time and time again since being parachuted into the school and therefore required little more than a curt grunt or a polite nod of approval. In fact, over the years, it is fair to say, the projects had become tiresomely predictable, the top three being training an old lady’s dog to fetch its pooper-scooper out the cupboard before going for a walk, handing out leaflets to tourists advertising Southport’s latest beach attractions and helping the disabled to do their weekly shop at Tesco. The accompanying outcomes had also become disappointingly predictable: paintings of improbably pleased little dogs holding a pooper-scooper tightly in their jaws, morbid poems about fatal accidents involving obese beach bungee-jumpers and weekly pie-charts of projected pie sales in Tesco seemed to be the best outcomes on offer. There were the occasional imaginative novelties such as the diary of a poodle who cried when the student went home and a fully-costed, grand plan for disabled access to all Tesco top shelves, involving the use of a fleet of mini-forklift trucks, but these were unusual.
Neither Tracey nor Carl Trumper were aware of the annual Privy initiative, grandly titled “Community Relations Augmentation Project”, as Arry had conveniently lost the letter at the bottom of his school bag, an area in which neither Tracey nor Carl were prepared to venture without prior medical advice and a two week course of antibiotics. By the way, before I continue, I should point out to you what I told you earlier was not the real title of the scheme: it was just made up by Arry when he was trying to find an effective way of teaching one of the two Jeffreys the difference between an abbreviation and an acronym. I thought that I would mention it just in case you too were having difficulties understanding the difference between the two concepts. Hope that helps.
The Boy Who Preferred to Be Somebody Else Page 5
