by James Erith
‘Allowed to what?’ Sue cut in.
Kemp ran his eyes up and down Sue’s body. ‘Fancy a date, sexy Sue? Take you to the cinema. There’s a new Bond film.’
Sue stood up smartly. ‘Listen. I will never be interested, Kemp. Besides, you’re far too young. Now go away.’
‘Woah, no need to be like that,’ Kemp said, standing up and grasping his heart as though mortally wounded. He turned to his mates and winked. ‘Oh well, worth a try. One day eh, you and me.’ Kemp extended his arm and patted Sue’s bottom.
Sue rounded on him, slapping his face, the sound like the crack of a whip. ‘Don’t you ever, ever touch me you filthy animal, or I’ll report you for assault.’
Kemp’s happy face vanished and a look of anger flashed in his dark eyes. ‘You’ll do what? Tell on me? Tell on me ... again,’ Kemp fumed. ‘Yeah, well big deal! Do you have any idea the number of hours I’ve spent in detention because of you two—?’
‘You deserve everything you get,’ Isabella said calmly.
‘Forty-two,’ he said, ignoring her. ‘That’s how many. Forty-two wasted hours.’ He thumped the table. ‘The teachers must think you’re making it up – the way you pick on me—’
‘Pick on you. Get lost, loser,’ Isabella said, ‘you make me want to vomit.’
Kemp smiled. ‘Well now, speaking of vomit, a little bird tells me you’ve made a ba-rom-eter?’ He said the word very slowly and as he did he felt under the desk and pulled away some sticky tape. He held up a small recording device. ‘Hello little birdie.’
Isabella shrieked.
‘Brilliant isn’t it?’ Kemp said, turning the black box around in his hands. ‘Superb reception for such a tiny thing. I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ he continued, rubbing home his advantage, ‘just before the football starts I’ll announce – perhaps with Coach’s megaphone – that there’s a big storm on its way which will devastate the whole area. What was it, boys?’ he turned to the sniggering pair. ‘Ah, that’s it ... white water rafting in two hours ...’ He looked triumphant. ‘And all because you dreamt about it. Isn’t that lovely.’
The boys laughed, thickly.
Isabella’s face was like thunder. ‘That’s immoral and illegal, Kemp!’
He waved her protest away. ‘Now, pray tell where this clever barometer thing is.’ He took a couple of paces to their desk. ‘Christ, is this it?’ he said picking it up.
‘Don’t you dare—’
‘A glass jar filled with liquid and a straw.’ Kemp seemed genuinely disappointed. ‘What a pathetic, terrible, useless piece of sh—’
‘Put it down!’ Isabella demanded.
‘Why? If anyone saw this you’d be laughed out of school.’ He turned it around in his hands.
‘Put it down—’
‘Give me one reason?’
‘Because I asked you to, that’s why.’
‘Not good enough—’
‘Because it’s an important part of my module—’
Kemp sneered. ‘No it isn’t. It’s not even on your syllabus.’
‘Please—’
‘What will you do if I don’t?’
‘Put it down!’ Isabella roared.
The door swung open.
‘Archie,’ Isabella gasped, relieved, ‘what are you doing here?’
‘Oh!’ he looked at their faces. ‘I’m dropping off a book ... what’s going on?’
Kemp held the barometer in the air. ‘Archie, my friend. Your sister thinks she should tell the world about a huge storm that’s coming based on this hilarious scientific instrument. What do you think?’ Kemp placed the barometer on the edge of the desk where it swayed for a moment and then righted itself.
Archie frowned. ‘Er, I don’t know.’
‘Well if you don’t know, Archie, then I really should break it – to save these girls showing it to anyone and making complete idiots of themselves—’
‘No!’ Isabella cried.
Kemp ignored her and raised an eyebrow, ‘and of course, to protect the great academic reputation of Upsall School.’ Kemp laughed and slapped the desk with his free hand.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Archie said, trying to read his sister’s face. ‘Why don’t you give it back?’
‘What!’ exclaimed Kemp, turning on him. ‘Don’t get me wrong, but I’m the one who’s going to decide whether they can or can’t have it back. Tell you what,’ said Kemp, addressing the girls again, ‘if Sue goes out with me, I’ll give it back.’
‘Never!’ Both girls instinctively replied. Sue slid her chair back so fast it fell backwards and clattered on the floor.
‘There are rules for a reason, Kemp,’ Isabella said, regaining her composure, ‘so listen up. Here’s what happens; you put the barometer down and leave it exactly as it is, while we go and get Mr Bellwood. Do you understand?’
Kemp scratched his fat nose. ‘Bellwood will never believe you – and I’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing. Your little brother can prove that, can’t you Archie?’
Archie shrugged his shoulders.
The girls began to gather up their things and headed towards the door.
Kemp wasn’t finished. He winked at Sue and blew a kiss to Isabella. ‘Remember, Mrs Douglas wants to see you both in the science labs. I’m just the messenger.’
‘You’ll pay for this,’ Isabella yelled, as she closed the door, ‘if it’s the last thing I do.’
SEVEN
SWEAR ON YOUR LIFE
Archie stared at the floor, slightly hoping it would open up and swallow him.
He didn’t particularly want to follow Isabella and Sue out of the room, but he had no desire to hang about with Kemp, Mason and Wilcox either. Before he had a chance to make a move, Kemp was inspecting the barometer, turning the glass jar round and round in his hands. ‘Not bad, I suppose, but why is the straw bending down?’
‘If you’re so interested, you should have asked my sister,’ Archie said. ‘Something about atmospheric pressure.’
‘Atmospheric pressure? Cool,’ Kemp said. ‘Although your sister is the most pretentious, stuck up girl I’ve ever known, you’ve got to hand it to her – she is clever.’
Kemp fiddled with the glass barometer with its straw hanging off the side. Moments later he strode over to the window, opened it, thrust his hand out and dropped the barometer out of the window.
A second later the instrument was in tiny pieces over the concrete floor below.
‘Christ alive, Kemp,’ Mason said, ‘you’re asking for it, didn’t you hear her? She’s gone off to get Bellwood. He’ll go mental.’
Kemp smiled. ‘You really think so? Well I don’t know how it got there – do you?’
Mason suddenly realised what he meant. ‘Me neither,’ he said, his voice as thick as dough.
‘Nor me,’ said Wilcox shrugging his shoulders.
‘That leaves only one other person who could have witnessed it.’ Kemp turned to Archie. ‘So Archie, tell me. Did you by any chance see who dropped the barometer out of the window?’
‘Well, I’m not blind,’ Archie replied.
Kemp rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t think he gets it, lads. I don’t think he quite grasps the seriousness of the situation. Look, Archie, I like you, and if you want me to continue liking you, all you have to say is that you didn’t see anything. Get it?’
‘Right,’ Archie said, wondering why it was that Kemp was such a massive jerk when Mason and Wilcox were around. ‘I won’t say a word,’ he said mechanically.
Kemp hesitated. ‘I’m not sure that’s really acceptable. Swear on your life that you won’t tell anyone.’
‘Oh come on,’ Archie replied, ‘I’m not a kid and I’m not a sneak. You know that.’
‘Archie, I need you to promise – on your life – that you’re not going to tell anyone, that’s all,’ Kemp insisted. ‘I mean, unlike your sister, you can keep your mouth shut, can’t you?’
‘If you didn’t want anyone to know,’ Archie ar
gued, ‘why did you throw it out of the window in the first place?’
Kemp smiled. Archie was one of the only people at the school who didn’t seem to flinch when intimidated.
Wasn’t it funny how threatening words seemed to cause Archie no pain and physical beating seemed to cause Daisy, his twin, no pain either? He stepped in front of Archie and drew himself up. ‘Your big sister doesn’t like me. You know that very well and you also know she’s responsible for putting me in detention pretty much every week for the last two years. She cannot be trusted. Prove that you’re different.’
‘Oh belt up, Kemp, you’re just showing off to moron and muggings. My sister doesn’t like you because you do idiotic things like throw barometers out of windows and put dead rats in sports bags.’
Kemp chuckled as he recalled the rat incident. When he’d found a dead rat by the river, it gave him one of his best ideas ever – pop it in Isabella de Lowe’s games bag, and wait. And every day he waited, getting more and more excited about the slowly decomposing rat. It remained there for the best part of a week, with everyone wondering what the terrible smell was in the changing rooms. Then, on the afternoon of the school cross country run, as Isabella put on her tracksuit bottoms, out dropped the carcass, dripping in maggots.
It was dynamite. He didn’t realise Isabella had a vermin phobia and she’d screamed so much and puked everywhere and caused such a scene that eventually one of the teachers had to call an ambulance. They had to sedate her and take her away. She’d been in hospital for the best part of a week in a state of shock, and spent three hours a week for the next six months in counselling; well, that’s what Archie had said.
It was a triumph and the best bit was that no one suspected him in the slightest, apart from Isabella. The enquiry determined that the rat had taken a nibble of poison and wandered into her bag. But Isabella, he felt, had never forgiven him.
Archie sighed. ‘Look, if it means that much to you, I’ll do it, but only if you swear on your life not to do any more harmful, stupid, bullying things to Isabella, Sue or Daisy. You’re pathetic and I’m fed up with having to stick up for you. It’s got to stop.’
Kemp stuck out his jaw and moved it from side to side while he thought about what Archie had said. At last he nodded his head and said, ‘OK, I agree. On the condition that it lasts until she puts me into detention again. Well, come on then, you say it first.’
Archie sighed; it was like being a seven-year-old. ‘Do I really have to swear?’
‘Yeah. Of course – if you want me to.’
Archie shook his head. ‘I swear on my life that I won’t tell anyone that you dropped the barometer out of the window,’ he said. ‘Now you say it!’
Kemp grinned. ‘I swear on my life not to harm your sister and not to play any more tricks on her. There, good enough?’
Archie nodded. He didn’t for a moment think Kemp would take it seriously, but it was worth a go.
In his book you didn’t swear your life away just for nothing. But anything was worth a try to end the constant bickering between his sisters and Kemp. He hated the fact that he was always stuck in the middle.
‘Oi, Mason, Wilcox,’ Kemp said in his thuggish voice. ‘Go and see if a teacher’s coming. I want to speak to Archie – ‘bout something private.’
Mason and Wilcox sloped out of the room.
Kemp’s face seemed to lighten up and his tone was altogether different. ‘Yeah, sorry Arch. I know. I’ve been a bit of a tosser.’
‘You’re telling me!’ Archie replied. ‘Why do you do it?’
Kemp shrugged. ‘Dunno. Boredom. Can’t seem to help myself when I see your sister. Look, do you fancy bringing your rod over at half term,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘I caught a six-pound fish last weekend. It was brilliant – took me ages to land.’
Archie smiled. Thank God Kemp was back to normal again. ‘Only if you stop being a total moron, everyone’s sick of it.’
Kemp rolled his eyes.
Archie ignored him. ‘Well, I suppose I’ve got nothing better to do. Mum and Dad aren’t coming home – more work digging up bones in the middle of nowhere.’
‘They’re never at home, are they,’ Kemp said. ‘But at least you’ve got parents.’
‘I know,’ Archie said, drawing a hand through his hair. ‘It’s so rubbish, though. Solomon’s getting really worried. He thinks we can’t cope.’
‘Well, can you?’
‘Of course we can. Old Man Wood’s brilliant at stuff even if he is the oldest man in the world.’
They both laughed.
‘But admit it, Archie, you are the scruffiest person I’ve ever met. I’m hardly surprised he’s worried. I would be.’
Archie grinned. ‘And unluckiest,’ he countered. ‘I’d been running through the forest.’
‘Yeah, but being Tarzan doesn’t work well with headmasters.’
Archie’s eyes lit up. ‘Lucky he didn’t ask me to take off my jacket. I’d ripped the jumper almost the whole way down the back.’
‘Look, come for the day,’ Kemp said. ‘I’ll get my aunt to knock up some sandwiches and you can bring some of that unbelievable apple juice your old man whatsit brews.’
Archie smiled. ‘His name is Old Man Wood.’
Kemp repeated it.
‘OK. Deal,’ Archie said, ‘BUT it’s on condition that you keep to your word about my sisters AND you get your aunt to do those beef sarnies; the last lot were sweet.’
Kemp nodded. ‘For you, Archie, consider it done. It’s the only thing she’s good at. How about you get round to mine on Monday morning – about 10 am?’
Archie had reluctantly begun his fishing trips with Kemp last year and much to his surprise, away from school, he found Kemp to be a totally different person. Quiet, fun – and a patient and knowledgeable teacher. Kemp showed none of his aggression and he had genuine skill with the rod and tying flies and reading the flow of the river and where the best pools were.
Archie wondered whether he wasn’t in some way jealous of people who were better than him at things, which was why he loathed Isabella and Daisy so much. Or maybe it was the gentle, calming effect of the river.
‘But you’re not to mention your sisters,’ Kemp said.
‘OK. Deal,’ Archie said. ‘But seriously, are Chitbury really going to kick lumps out of Daisy?’
‘I said don’t talk about her,’ Kemp fired back.
Archie sighed. What was it about Kemp and his sisters? Were they always going to hate each other?
THEY COULD HEAR footsteps coming along the corridor.
‘Quick, Bellwood’s coming,’ said Mason, as he ran back into the classroom.
‘Out of the window!’ Kemp suggested.
They ran to the window and pulled up the blind, only to find they were looking directly at Isabella, Sue and Mrs Pike.
‘Drat,’ said Kemp under his breath, and he smiled pleasantly back at them.
‘Kemp,’ the old teacher hollered, ‘and Archie de Lowe. Well, who would have guessed? Can you tell me anything about the glass fragments on the concrete floor?’
Kemp opened the window and looked out. ‘What glass?’ he said innocently.
‘This mess here,’ Mrs Pike replied.
‘No idea what you’re talking about,’ Kemp said. ‘Window’s been closed all along. Someone must have left it lying there.’ He shrugged again. ‘What is it anyway?’
Isabella shrieked. ‘Kemp, you know perfectly well what it is.’
‘A milk bottle?’ he offered.
Mrs Pike stared at him with her cold eyes. ‘No Kemp, I think you know that it’s Isabella’s barometer.’
‘A bar-hom-tier,’ Kemp said thickly. ‘What on earth is that?’
‘Archie, did you see Kemp with the barometer earlier?’
Archie stared at the floor.
‘So can you tell us what happened?’
‘Dunno,’ Archie said, running a hand through his hair.
‘What do you mea
n, you dunno?’
‘Dunno,’ said Archie again, this time turning a little red.
Kemp looked straight into Mrs Pike’s eyes, with a stare. ‘Honestly, there’s been no one around.’
‘Great!’ Isabella stormed. ‘Has Kemp made you swear not to tell or something equally childish?’
The classroom door swung open. ‘What have you done now, Kemp?’ boomed Mr Bellwood, striding in.
‘Nothing!’ Kemp said. ‘I was trying to explain to Mrs Pike here that I haven’t done anything.’
‘Yes you have, Kemp,’ Isabella shouted through the window. ‘You were the last person to have it and now it’s in bits. It must have been you.’
‘Prove it,’ said Kemp, thrusting his jaw out.
‘I shouldn’t have to. Archie,’ she pleaded, ‘all you have to do is tell us what happened—’
Archie shook his head.
‘Kemp, you’ve got history with this kind of mindless vandalism,’ Mr Bellwood added, his moustache twitching.
‘He should be expelled,’ Isabella shouted.
‘But I haven’t done anything—’
‘Of course you have—’
‘You can’t prove it – can you?’
‘I DID IT!’ Archie yelled. He couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘It was me.’
There was a long silence.
‘You did it?’ Kemp said.
‘You?’ Isabella quizzed.
‘Archie?’ Mr Bellwood said.
‘Yes,’ Archie sighed. ‘I was fed up with you two always getting at each other, so I thought I’d save everyone the trouble and lobbed it out of the window.’
He bowed his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
Isabella looked confused. This wasn’t the sort of thing Archie would do, so why was he taking sides with Kemp? ‘What did you say to Archie, Kemp? It’s like you’ve done a deal or something—’
Kemp bit his lip and stared hard at her, his eyes cold and narrow. Then he spun and marched out of the room.
EIGHT
STORM GLASS
