Chapter 4. A big fight

The next Sunday Abagail, Adam and Albert, using the freedom of the day off, climbed to the highest point on the island. St Tom's had a "rule of three". It was permissible to wander about the island on your own, or in groups of three or more, but not in twos.
"Some sort of monastic thing, to prevent close friendships excluding other people" thought Adam.
"Three just argue" responded Abagail.
The rule had the effect that Adam and Abagail found it difficult to snatch time in private together. However Albert was happy to make up the third. The sun was shining and they lay on some rocks. The could see all the way round the island, the monastery with its little jetty to the east, and the rockier shore where seabirds dwelt to the west, punctuated with little sandy beaches. The ruins left by the ancient monks were all about, a few stone arches surrendering to the disruptive forces of scrub and brush growing between their stones. There were hardly any trees on the island. The playing field, close by the monastery, stood out as an incongruous square of pure green. All round the coast, like a thin necklace, ran the track where they had to do their punishment runs. Rabbits darted about near them.
"If only we had some sandwiches" said Adam, "it would be so nice just to have a picnic here".
"Yes, I'm hungry" said Abagail, "that's the worst thing about this place, the absolutely awful food".
"And the prep" said Albert.
"And the bullying fifth years." said Adam.
"OK," said Abagail, "Food, prep, bullies. All bad. What is good about this place?"
"No Alex" said Adam.
"Whose Alex?" asked Albert.
"Oh, just our mother's horrid boyfriend." said Abagail, "we hate him with a passion, and he hates us also, which is why we were sent away to boarding school. Dear Daddy insisted on St Tom's. You're lucky, Albert, you've got something to look forward to when term ends. We don't."
She looked at the rabbits. "Could catch one of those and eat it" she said.
"Funny you should say that," said Albert, "you know we're doing woodwork for our Saturday activity. Anyway, I thought I'd make a boat. Then we could sail it, maybe even escape."
"OK" said Adam, dubiously.
"Well, anyway, brother Peter said I didn't have the resources to build a boat. However much time you spent down here in the woodwork room, you'd never complete it, he said. Maybe you can get the sixth form to take you out. They can do sailing. Anyway, he said, what would you do with a boat. I didn't like to say 'escape' so I said I'd use it for fishing. We discussed what else I could make and I suggested snares for the rabbits. 'That's certainly a realistic project' he told me, 'but unfortunately it is illegal. The wild mammal's protection Act forbids it.' So I'm making a lobster pot."
"Never had lobster" said Adam.
"Yes you have, in France, before Mummy and Daddy got divorced" said Abagail, "you ate it and I didn't like it."
"So will you give us one of these lobsters?" asked Adam.
"Sure," said Albert, "when I finish the pot"
"I want a rabbit" said Abagail.
"It isn't allowed to catch the rabbits" said Albert.
"Who says?" said Adam.
"The law, and brother Peter"
"One law for lobsters, another one for rabbits" said Adam, "you know they boil lobsters alive. I'd call that species discrimination."
"But rabbits are cute and fluffy whilst lobsters just nip you" said Abagail.
"You wanted to eat one" retorted Adam.
"Yes, I'm really hungry" said Abagail, turning lazily over on her stomach. "Not hungry as in empty, hungry as in hungry for something decent, like a solid lump of meat."
"There you see, we are hungry" said Adam, "children's rights beat animal rights. That law was made for well fed people. It doesn't count for us."
"I'm not sure about this, Adam" said Albert.
"Oh, don't be so wet" said Abagail, "just make a rabbit trap, Albert."
"What if brother Peter finds out?"
"He didn't about the waterboard, did he?"
"That's what I'm worried about. Once bitten"
"Albert", said Adam, seriously, "we've got to do this. Now we've planned it, you'll never forgive yourself if you funk out. Abbey and I are hungry, you're hungry too, so is everyone. We've got to have some decent solid meat or we'll all go mad. You'll be such a hero."
"I'll see" said Albert.
"No, agreed" said Abagail, and held out her hand.
"Agreed" said Albert, and slapped it.
"We won't leave you in the lurch" said Abagail, "if brother Peter finds out we'll all three own up to it."

Rupert was a fifth year. With the other fifth years he had just come out of detention following the incident of Amy's waterboarding. Now he had got to hear that Adam cried easily, and he decided to have some fun.
"Adam", he said, "come here. I hear you've been crying in lessons." Adam looked down, ashamed.
"At St Tom's we've got a tradition. Crybabies are tossed in a blanket by the fifth form"
Adam felt the cold chill of fear running over his body.
"Don't worry, Adam" said Rupert, "I'm warning you because I can protect you from them. I can stop them doing that to you, if only you'll do one little thing in return for me."
Adam nodded.
"Bring me a cup of tea tomorrow morning."
"We're not supposed to drink before communion" protested Adam.
"Oh don't worry about that" said Rupert, "you wouldn't sneak on me, would you Adam? I know you're not a sneak. I'll protect you from the rest, I promise."
"OK, thanks Rupert" said Adam.

The next morning Adam got up ten minutes early to make Rupert a pre-Matins cup of tea. Rupert was all sweetness and light.
"You know Adam", he said, "you and Abbey are really popular with the seniors. She's got real spunk, your sister. And you're obviously an intelligent guy. People respect that. You'll get on with us fifth years."
Adam was flattered, and didn't know what to say.
"Just one thing, Adam" said Rupert, "put one sugar in it next time, would you not mind."
"I thought I agreed to make one cup of tea" thought Adam, but he didn't protest.

He noticed that Rupert took communion as usual that day.

The next day, Adam went to Rupert's room (the fifth years had shared study bedrooms, two to a study) with the second cup of tea.
"You're late" said Rupert, "come here". With that he cuffed him round the ear. "If you're late next time you'll get it harder. Now dismiss."

The third day Adam made sure that he spat in the tea, mixing a great deal of spittle in carefully, before giving it to Rupert.
"Rupert, I've got to warn you that you drink this to your destruction" said Adam.
"You what?" said Rupert
"The destruction of your immortal soul, and possibly body as well."
"You're a right one" said Rupert, "look, you care about your soul if you want, I couldn't care about mine. You're going to have such a hard time, Adam."
However he didn't cuff him that day.

When Abagail got to hear about this she was furious.
"It humiliates you and it humiliates me" she said, "Adam, like it or not I am associated with you. You can't let this happen."
"He's a fifth year," said Adam, "what can I do. Of course I spit in his tea. He's drinking my spit, though he doesn't know it."
Abagail grinned. "OK, that's a start" she said.
"He'll get my germs", said Adam
"But Adam," said Abagail, "you can only give him germs that you've already got. That's the problem. You can't give him anything serious like cholera unless you've got cholera yourself, which you haven't. That's why just spitting in his tea isn't going to do any good."
"OK, I'll lace it with cyanide"
"Where would you get cyanide?"
"From the science lab" said Adam.
"So you're really going to ask brother Kieran if he's got any cyanide so you can poison Rupert?" asked Abagail, and laughed slightly at the absurdity, "What does cyanide look like, anyway?"
"I dunno, OK, bleach."
"The cleaning cupboards are locked."
"We'll find a way of getting some out".
"The problem with bleach" said Abagail, "is that they'll find out, and then you'll be expelled. Which leaves me here alone. What you need to do is to use a naturally occurring substance. Then no-one knows that you've done it."
"OK, so what's a natural poison?" asked Adam.
"I dunno, something like typhoid or cholera." "I heard of someone dying after eating shellfish"
"Perfect." said Abagail.
"So how can we make sure we get an infected shellfish?" asked Adam.
Abagail did a bit of research on the internet.
"It's crabs" she said, "crab is the most dangerous shellfish to eat if not properly prepared. At the sides of the shell are structures known as “dead man's fingers” which are poisonous if not removed. And there are plenty of crabs on the beach".

Adam went down to the beach and soon located a small green crab in a rockpool. He fished it out, and smashed it to death with a rock. He then put the carcass in a plastic bag, and hid it under his bed, next to the radiator. Rupert was still finding pretexts to cuff him, and still going to communion.

The dead man's fingers were quite easy to recognise. They were filamented, greyish structures clinging to the niches in the corner of the shell. Adam excised them. Fighting back his disgust, he mashed it up with some water, unboiled and from the rainwater tap, naturally. He then placed the mixture in packet handkerchief and squeezed it, collecting the poisoned juices. He put this in the teacup, then the milk in, making sure that the tea wasn't too hot so that it would sterilise things, but not so cold as to be undrinkable. In a few minutes it was ready to give to Rupert.
"This tea is cold" complain Rupert, after a sip, "and the milk is slightly off. Come here."
He gave him a sharp cuff across the ear. Adam cried in pain.
"Sorry, Rupert" he cringed, "won't happen next time"
"It had better not" said Rupert.

After Matins the community immediately had Mass, ranks of uniformed children and the eight monks in their habits crowding out the little chapel. Rupert took communion as usual. A few minutes later he felt a sharp kicking in his stomach. He felt queasier and queasier as he went to his first lesson, which was maths with brother Jumbo. "Sir, I feel ill" he complained. He felt he ought to be sick, but could not be sick. As he walked out of the classroom, he seriously wondered whether he would make the sick bay.

Three hours later, as the bell went for Terce, the children heard the chatter of a helicopter overhead. It landed on the playing field and two white coated doctors got out.

"We've done it", said Adam, to Abagail.

However by evening the helicopter had left, with Rupert still in the sick bay.

"That will still teach him", said Adam
"But how does he know it was us? It's no better than spitting in the tea if he doesn't know whose done it." said Abagail
"Look," said Adam, "we can't say it was a poisonous crab. That's too compromising. But blab it about that I was spitting in his tea, and that's how he got ill."
"Will do", said Abagail, and before prep had ended the story was all over the school.

"Coffee for you" said a fifth year, a tall youth called Martin, "coffee for you Amy. Oh, you've already had one. I've made an extra. Adam, can you drink up this extra coffee?"
They were in the boys' calefactory after prep. The room was still buzzing with news of Rupert. Apparently matron had been seriously worried, but the doctors had given him some treatment in time and there was now no danger.
Adam took the coffee. The fifth years left. A moment later Adam caught his foot on the carpet and tripped, spilling the coffee.
Sean overheard Martin and Amy giggling on their way from the calefactory, and felt an immediate surge of alarm.
"Are you crazy" he cried, and burst into the calefactory. He almost collapsed in panic when he saw Adam sprawled over the floor.
"Adam, did you drink it?" he cried, "there's bleach in that coffee!"
Dazed, Adam shook his head.
"It just spilt. Thank God, thank God, thank God" Sean was beside himself. After convincing himself that none of the bleached coffee had been ingested, he calmed down. "I'm calling an emergency JC meeting" he said.
All the school from the fifth year down were soon assembled. "Now I've got something to tell you", Sean said, sitting down in the chairman's seat, "people are using poison. If we are not careful we'll soon get to a state where no-one can eat or drink anything without fear that it has been spiked by someone else. We can't live like that. No poisons are to be used, any more, by anybody. I mean that, immediately. Throw them all away. This has got way out of hand. And not a word of this to father Abbott or any of the prefects, anyone outside this room, in fact."
There was a buzz, and the school filed away. The meeting had taken less than two minutes.

Next day Rupert was still in the sick bay, but was making a good recovery. Adam felt guilty, and vulnerable. He wasn't sure that Sean's admonition would have any effect, and was terribly afraid of further attacks. He wanted some adult, Father Abbott even, involved. But to tell him would be sneaking.
"However you can't sneak on yourself" thought Adam, "can you?" He decided there and then to go to Father Abbott and make a clean breast of it.

Steeling himself, he knocked at Father Abbott's study door.

"Sir," he said, "it was me who poisoned Rupert" "This is not the confessional" said Father Abbott, with a smile, "Now how did you do that?"

Adam suddenly felt ashamed, and looked down. "With a crab, Sir" "A crab?" "A poisonous crab, mixed up in his tea."

"Adam," said father Abbot, "cases of serious food poisoning are always carefully investigated. In this case the only thing that Rupert had eaten or drunk that the others hadn't was that cup of tea. So the cup was taken away and analysed, and sure enough traces of contamination were found. It is not as easy to commit an undetectable murder as you seem to imagine. And since you were openly boasting about having spat in the tea, it was obvious that the contamination was deliberate, and not from saliva either."
"So you knew already" said Adam, "why aren't I in prison for it?" "I am not in such a hurry to bring criminal charges against my own children" said Father Abbot, "if we'd have known what was going on in time then of course we would have intervened, because of the physical danger you were putting each other in. But in the event Sean handled the case perfectly well, and there was no reason for me to be involved. Are you dissatisfied with the way Sean settled things?"
"I'm still scared, Sir"
"We'll that's a fear you're just going to have to live with. You'll have to trust to the good sense and moderation of the other pupils, and of Sean. But I don't think you'll be disappointed."
"Thank you, Sir"
"This time, everything has worked out. But you need to consider that you will not always find a way of retaliating against a bully, and you won't always be so lucky in avoiding even more extreme counter-retaliation. Nor is there always be a Sean to protect you. So what will you do then, Adam?"
"I don't know, Sir" "Neither do I, neither does anyone. You'll have to work that one out for yourself. Now please go, and consider what you are doing a bit more carefully in future."
"Thank you, Sir" said Adam, and began to leave.
"Oh, and Adam" said Father Abbot "Yes?"
"Maybe it is better if this conversation never happened."

Meanwhile blonde Mary was adjusting to her new life. The first two weeks had been exciting. She was used to international travel, to staying in the homes of the mothers' film star friends, and to a mixture of the luxury of delicate meals prepared by fleets of servants, and the hardship of spending nights in airport departure lounges and lonely hotels. Even the food hadn't been much of a shock. Many times blonde Mary had been offered weird concoctions of lobsters in brandy sauce, or plain lentils by a vegetarian actress, or raw fish on a journey to Japan. Her mother had made her eat them, out of politeness, so she adapted quickly to eating things that she didn't like, and pretending that she enjoyed them. However now the monotony was beginning to get her down. Life at St Tom's was all hardship and no luxury. They got up early, prayed, had Mass, had a horrible breakfast, then had lessons all day, punctuated by horrible meals and the offices. Then there was prep all evening, and just a bit of free time, before Compline and lights out at night.
"It's no life for a girl like me" thought blonde Mary, "I should be in California, with a mobile phone that works and a television I can watch when I want, and lots of friends. That's what I miss most, real friends like me. These others are not my equals. Abbey, OK, there's something pretty about her, but her father is only a computer programmer. Cecilia is just spoilt. Short Mary, there's nothing about her. As for Mandy, she's just a charity case. It's a real embarrassment. There's no-one like me, no-one I can really make friends with as a equal. Certainly no-one I could possibly invite back to America. What on Earth was Mum thinking about sending me here?"
She lay on the dorm bed, brushing her long hair with a designer hairbrush that had a peacock embroidered on the back and had cost two hundred dollars.
"Hey Mary, what are you thinking about?" said Abagail, bursting in.
"Oh, I think deeply, about lots of things" said blonde Mary, "I was thinking of my dear Mother and all the friends I have in America, and how funny it is, that now the most precious people in my life are you."
"So who's most precious to you, of us four?" asked Abagail.
"Well of course you, my dear Abbey." said blonde Mary.
"Oh come on Mary, you'd say that to anyone" said Abagail, "who do you like, really, amongst us four?"
"Mandy, she is so clever" said blonde Mary.
"Mandy?" said Abagail.
"Yes, Mandy, I admire her. To come from where she's been to where she's at. That must have taken a lot of work. You know how I hate academic work. Especially anything to do with maths or science. Ugh. But Mandy has succeeded in clawing her way up the gutter to be as equals with us. I admire her for it. And particularly I despise the other Mary, for making her feel bad about it. If you consider, really the other Mary has nothing. She's a nobody. Her father's a doctor. That is nothing. A British NHS doctor gets less in a week than a plastic surgeon in America gets for a single operation. They couldn't even afford an apartment in Manhattan."
"The other Mary is spiteful, isn't she," said Abagail, "and Cecilia is spoilt and going on all the time about how she hates St Tom's. I really hate that. I mean, if you don't like something, don't moan, do something about it. We're going to do something about the food, for instance?"
"A protest? Abbey, you can't. Father Abbot would never stand for it. Me, I would have complained already if I thought it would do any good. My mother taught me how to read people." blonde Mary told her.
"No," said Abagail, "I've got the boys to promise to catch a rabbit. We'll have decent food when they do, and you will be invited."
"Like Elmer Fudd. Two carrots, two turnips, some celery. Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop. Then some salt and pepper. Then catch one rabbit. Hmmm." blonde Mary laughed, "I'll believe this rabbit when I see it."
"Well don't tell anyone", warned Abagail.
"To think I'd get excited about a rabbit", said blonde Mary, "life is so much more interesting outside of this high security institution. In California there's this restaurant that doesn't even have a menu. You order what you want, and if they don't have the food in they say sorry Ma'am, and send out a man on a scooter to buy it. Then you get complimentary drinks. If he can't get it, the next meal is free."
"So why doesn't everyone order elephant's ear burgers?" asked Abagail.
"Oh that would be disgusting. They don't take clients like that. No, any food you want, you can just have. That's what its like in California."

Mandy, Cecilia, and short Mary entered from the calefactory.
"Mary, since when have you needed to brush your hair at night?" asked Mandy.
"It helps it lie smoothly", explained blonde Mary, "it goes out of position when you sleep on it, and if it's out of position already it gets firmed up like that. Not good."
"You wouldn't understand, Mandy", said short Mary.
"Mary will be a film star some day" said Abagail, "I can just see it. Then we'll go into the cinema and see her hair blown up on the big screen, every strand visible, and say, 'I saw her brushing that hair, in our very dorm room'".
"Oh, I'm going to go into acting" said Cecilia, "or modelling, maybe. Definitely something like that".
"You're not pretty enough, like Mary" said Mandy.
"Mandy", said Abagail, "that was obnoxious, and it isn't even true. Cecilia is a spoilt brat, but she's a pretty spoilt brat."
"Yes, pretty spoilt" said short Mary, and everyone laughed.
"I know you say that," said Cecilia, "but I'm not spoilt. I just hate it here so much. As you should. I hate the discipline, the food is awful, the lessons are OK but you could get them elsewhere. Basically our parents are paying a lot of money for a load of rubbish"
"Except some of our parents aren't paying," said short Mary.
"And do you hate us, Cecilia?" said Mandy, "Isn't that what boarding school is supposed to be about, making friends? Why do you think you're so much better than every other person?"
"Oh, so pious, Mandy" said short Mary, "as if you'd know what a boarding school is all about. No, most of us are dumped here, as are you".
"I'm certainly feeling very dumped" said blonde Mary.
"Yes, leave Mandy alone" said Cecilia.
"Oh, I don't need your help" said Mandy. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" screamed Abagail. "Jesus, this dorm gets me down. Let's face it, we're in hell here and it our few moments of leisure what do we do, make it even more hellish for ourselves".
"It's alright for you" said short Mary, "Abbey, you've got your brother. We, we've got nothing. So no lectures from you please on right and wrong."
"Oh my brother," said Abagail, sarcastically, "yes, the source of all my happiness. My twin brother."

The girls pulled their clothes off and got ready for bed, settling down ill-tempered.

The first year and second year boys were knocking a ball round the school yard at lunchtime.

"Adam, pass it" called James. James was the only really good player. Sebastian was competent, whilst Albert was relatively effective in goal, as long as the blazers were placed close enough together for his smallness not to be too much of a disadvantage. Adam and Ibrahim were hopeless.

"You're meant to pass it" complained James, "it's kind of, the game."

They were playing with second years mixed in with the teams.

"From now on", said James, "put Ibrahim and Adam in separate teams. Then each team only has one dud player."
The second years agreed, and Adam was transferred.

Adam had been told at primary school that "football builds teamwork" however he had never believed it. Particularly he didn't believe it now. It was a reasonably pleasant way of wasting a lunchtime, but he didn't place any further value on it. Brother Gwilliam, who did games, he rather disliked, and the feeling was pretty mutual. However they ran about and kicked the ball at lunchtimes, and got formal lessons in five-a-side each week. The rules were very similar to normal football, except the ball could not be kicked above head height, headers were disallowed, and only the goalie was allowed within the area, which was semi-circular. This last rule was difficult to replicate on the school yard. Because they played on the dirt it was impossible to chalk. Playing on the cobbled area would have given the ball a funny behaviour as it bounced on the uneven surface, and have meant that Albert couldn't dive. So they just arrived at an area by mutual consent. The main purpose of the rule was to eliminate goal-lagging, which could be detected easily enough.

By the third week, the first years were ready for their first match. It was with St Dunstan's, another Catholic school on the mainland. It was mainly a rugby school, but they agreed to knock up a team to play with St Tom's. The minibus was loaded on to the boat and the boys and brother Gwilliam got on. It cast away from the shore. Then there was a long drive through the bleak Scottish highlands.
"They have no real experience of organised soccer or of five-a-side, whilst you have plenty by now" said brother Gwilliam, "so I'm expecting a resolute performance. Don't let the school down, remember the honour of St Tom's rests on you."
Adam wondered how the honour of St Tom's could be affected by anything so trivial as a football match, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. The minibus came in through the wrought iron gates of St Dunstan's.

St Tom's won the toss and James and Sebastian kicked off. They soon lost possession and the St Dunstan's forwards came towards Adam and Ibrahim. The St Dunstan's boy easily slipped past Adam's tackle, and took a shot at goal. Albert just saved it. Albert passed out the ball to Ibrahim, who tried to kick it up to James but got intercepted by a St Dunstan's boy. The attackers again slipped past Adam, and took another shot on goal. This time Albert jumped on it and grabbed it like a baby. He passed it out to Adam. Adam tried to pick out James, but a St Dunstan's boy ran up and dispossessed him. This time the shot went home. It carried on like this, with the St Dunstan's boys making attack after attack on the St Tom's goal. James and Sebastian began to hang back, and the shots decreased in frequency, with James acting as defender. Occasionally St Tom's got a run forwards, but the ball remained almost always in their half. St Dunstan's scored two more goals before half time.

"You've defended well" said brother Gwilliam, "now let's see more attacking play. We can still win this game, but you're going to need to score some goals in the second half."
James and Sebastian tried to run up, and made a few attempts on the St Dunstan's goal. But again and again St Dunstan's slipped past them, penetrated the weak defence, and scored two more goals.
James and Sebastian now decided to hang back, and again the play was mainly in St Tom's half. However this wasn't the St Tom's team of the first part of the game. Realising that there was no way they could win, and tired from long play, the St Tom's boys began to lose heart. They made mistakes. Three more times Albert picked the ball out of the back of the net.
Eventually St Tom's got the ball forward again. Adam ran down the wing and received a pass from Sebastian. There was only the goalkeeper between him and the net, however the goalkeeper looked menacing. Adam decided to cross to James. He kicked the ball weakly, and it ended up in the goalie's area. The St Dunstan's goalie retrieved it and kicked it down, where St Dunstan's scored another goal. St Tom's hung on for another grim fifteen minutes, and conceded only one more goal. There were no further chances.
"That's another one we've won" said the St Dunstan's goalie, as the teams changed together in the changing rooms.
"I thought you just put a team together, especially for us" said Adam. "We do it for other schools too. Comprehensives, mainly. They like to play with us on a one-off basis. There's no league, like for rugby. This is the third match we've played this term", the goalie explained.
After the match there was a meal. The St Dunstan's boys were served spaghetti bologanaise. Unlike at St Tom's the spaghetti wasn't watery nor the meat sparse and overcooked. They had a rich tomato sauce with mushrooms and onions in it, and no gristle in the meat. In a specially nice touch it was topped with Parmesan. Then pudding was a fruit salad with whipped cream - bananas, oranges, and grapes.
"Is it always like this, or is this specially for us?" asked Adam.
"This is pretty normal", said one of the St Dunstan's boys, "I'd say we get spaghetti bol once every two weeks."

Because it was too far to travel back that night, they stayed over. The St Tom's boys were offered spare rooms, two to a room. Initially James and Sebastian, and Adam and Albert were going to sleep together. However Adam perceived that this would be a cause of distress to Ibrahim, so he elected to sleep alone. It was the first time in over two weeks that Adam had slept in private. He luxuriated in the clean, soft white sheets, and the little table with its own kettle and teabags. You had to get water from a communal bathroom, but that took only a little away. There was even a lock on the door, which he snicked shut. He slept till reville. The postmortem on the drive home was surprisingly lacking in bitterness. "You played well, boys" said brother Gwilliam, "you can't expect to win the first match you play as a team, so cheer up a bit. What I want to see is more passing up from the defence. There is no offside rule in five-a-side. That's the main difference from regular football. If you can just get the ball up to a forward, you can have a shot on goal." Adam wasn't listening, absorbed by the splendour of the Scottish mountains. It was a totally different world to London. There, everywhere you went there were buildings and streets. Tube stations nestled up to busy shopping centres, with housing in the back parts. The people you saw on a journey you would never see again, it was just a sea of constantly changing faces. Here, everything was strung out over vast spaces. When a car was seen in the opposite direction it was an event. They stopped in a small village for petrol and the attendant knew brother Gwilliam. Eventually they reached the boat again, and after the crossing were back at St Tom's. The gates of the main school closed behind Adam like a prison. "It doesn't have to be this way", he thought, "why can't we be like St Dunstan's?"

Mr Warren, games master at St Dunstan's, gave his boys a debrief. "They only have five boys in the whole of their first year", he said, "we are picking from thirty. So well done everybody for winning, but it can't be like this for the rematch. Notice the discipline of the St Tom's team. They were way down, and still fighting, still trying to get that last chance. And no recriminations. Notice that. They accepted they had been beaten, with good grace and sportsmanship. I wish you had their spirit."

Back in the dorm, James was bitter.
"Adam", he said, "you're just in a dream all the time. We had a chance to score, and you can't even kick the ball out of the goalie's area. How bad is that?"
"Sorry, James" said Adam.
"I don't want a dud team. St Tom's will just be a laughing stock. Ten nil." he looked down at the floor in frustration. "This is bad for the reputation of St Tom's".
"Like how is it bad for the school's reputation?" Adam asked him.
"It is. Ten nil. We will be the laughing stock of Scotland." "Come on James, it's only a game." Adam protested.
"In your opinion. Yes, only a game. Doesn't matter what we score." James rounded on him.
"It's ungentlemanly to be too good at games." Sebastian offered.
"Just face it, we are useless." said Albert.
"Yes, James" said Ibrahim, "it doesn't really matter."
James realised that he was in a minority of one.

"Look," he said, "it might not matter to you, but it matters to me. I like sport. I don't want to go down ten nil. It's a humiliation. What would my father say? What's brother Gwilliam going to say?"
"We need to practise more." said Sebastian, "play our band of heroes against the second years at lunch time, instead of mixing up."
"Then we'll go down ten nil again" said James. "But St Dunstan's could pick and choose from thirty" said Adam, "we've got to face the fact that we'll always be playing a superior team."
"That's the answer," said Albert, "the teams we play will always be superior, because we're stuck with the material we've got. So the second years are good practise. Sure, we'll go down, but we'll learn how to close down superior opposition. Maybe we can hold it to one or two nil instead of ten. That's the best we can hope for. We can still play mixed every other lunchtime to keep some competitiveness."
"Alright", agreed James. And so it was settled.

Meanwhile brother Gwilliam had the unenviable task of reporting the disaster to Father Abbot.

"A complete catastrophe, I'm afraid Father," said the monk, "they were wiped out ten nil."
"Ten nil?" said Father Abbot, "what happened?"
"Adam, basically," the games master told him, "he's in a total dream. I think he just doesn't care. No interest at all in the result. Then Ibrahim is not exactly a star either. Albert's got the makings of a decent goalkeeper but he's not there yet, not by a long shot. James is the only one who is really good. So effectively it was three players against five. I don't see this working. We've got to strengthen the side. Drop Adam and maybe Ibrahim as well, and reinforce with second years."
"Oh no, Adam is not getting out of games as easily as that" said Father Abbot, "however I'd agree that ten nil isn't really viable. Let's see if we can find some weaker opposition."
"St Dunstan's told me that some of the comprehensives can put up informal sides. They play full elevens for the league, obviously." brother Gwilliam told him
"I think we've made the right decision on five-a-side" said Father Abbot, "the younger ones can't work effectively in teams of eleven. It just turns into a herd chasing a ball. But in teams of five, each member is vital. Adam and Ibrahim won't be able to coast for long."
"They won't coast at all" said brother Gwilliam.
"See if we can get a more respectable result next time," said Father Abbot, "I have a running bet with the head of St Dunstan's – if we don't win the rematch, that's a bottle of finest malt whiskey gone to waste"

Usually sporting results were announced after Mass. This time, Father Abbot didn't even announce the score. "You played well, boys" he said, shortly.
However news of the disaster was pretty soon all over the junior calefactory. The first year boys had to endure teasing from the older members of St Tom's, which irritated Adam and infuriated James. A motion was put through the JC meeting, "This house will support the first year football team for their next match" and two third years made sarcastic comments about tensely awaiting the results and getting talent spotters in from the Scottish premier league side Celtic. The first years sat as their ears burned, and didn't dare to take the floor to defend themselves.

Girls at St Tom's played netball. Mandy was easily the best, having a natural ability to aim accurately at the net. Since she was a bit behind in her academic work, not having had the good primary education that the others had enjoyed, it gave her a sense of value and of status. It was about the only sense of value she really had. Cecilia's letter had opened her eyes. What the girls said on the surface wasn't always what they thought underneath. Blonde Mary viewed netball with horror. She was naturally lazy, and used to watching TV with her fashionable friends whilst being waited on by fleets of servants, not to running and jumping. She also didn't like the idea that you had to fight for the ball. Everything she had, had been given to her. The idea of competing seemed alien, and impolite.
"Come on Mary" brother Gwilliam called to her, "show some effort. Attack the ball."
Mandy was on the opposing team, and intercepted a pass to blonde Mary. Brother Gwilliam shook his head.
"Mandy, calm down a bit can't you sweetest?" asked blonde Mary, after the game was over, "a girl like me needs to play gently."
"Yes, that was a bit rough, Mandy" said Abagail, "we all know how Mary hates games, no need to rub it in."
"Well I hate it when people don't try" said Mandy, "come on, you've got to show some effort, go for the ball."
"There's nothing I detest so much as effort," said blonde Mary, languidly. "Yes, it is vulgar" said short Mary, "didn't Sebastian explain how it is ungentlemanly to be too good at games?"
"Sebastian was only teasing" said Cecilia, "because the boys went down ten nil. Trust Sebastian to put a good gloss on it. You're always down on Mandy."

The girls left the changing room, and it was break. They made their way to the yard through the ruins, with Mandy and Cecilia hanging back.
"Mandy," said Cecilia, "you're too serious about games and about work. You're a goody two shoes. The other girls don't like that. I'm telling you, as a friend."
"I don't need your friendship, Cecilia" said Mandy.
"Well don't think blonde Mary likes you" said Cecilia. "Abbey, maybe, but you're putting her off. You put all the other girls off with your attitude. Trust me, Mandy. We all hate it here, you've got to accept and acknowledge that. We don't need someone in favour of the system."
"Abbey sneaked on me, I never on her, never on no-one." Mandy protested.
"It's never on anyone, Mandy" Cecilia corrected her, "I'm just trying to help you."
"Don't pretend that to me" said Mandy, "I know what your real attitude is."
Abagail had sneaked on her, short Mary was perpetually bitchy, Cecilia real attitude she knew from the letter, and she had lost blonde Mary's favour. Mandy was feeling very isolated and vulnerable.
"Mandy," said Cecilia, "I want the other girls to accept you despite your disadvantages."
"You bitch" said Mandy, "you hate me, I know you hate me."
"Mandy," said Cecilia, "I never."

Mandy slapped her hard across the mouth.

"Mandy, why?" gasped Cecilia.
"Bitch, bitch, bitch", screamed Mandy, slapping her violently. Cecilia made a half-hearted attempt to defend herself. However Mandy knew how to give a beating. Kicking and punching, she laid into Cecilia, knocking her head against the stone walls of the ruins, raining blows on her even as she laid on the floor.
The fight would have been undetected, however brother Dominic happened to be passing that way, and saw the two girls struggling on the uneven ground. He called out, and grabbed both by their shirts.
"That is most unladylike" he said, firmly.
"This vicious thing attacked me." said Cecilia.
"Be that as it may, Miss Cecilia" said brother Dominic, "you go straight to Father Abbot".

He dumped them both outside Father Abbot's great oak door, went in and briefly described the situation.
"Mandy, I hate you" hissed Cecilia.

Father Abbot called in Cecilia first.

"Sit down," he said, "and calm down. Now can you explain yourself?"
"You do not sneak" thought Cecilia.
"How did you come to be fighting?" asked Father Abbot
"We were arguing, Sir. I think I was making Mandy insecure. The thing is that all the other girls were beginning to gang up on her, and so I thought I would warn her. But it came over the wrong way. For some reason she thinks I hate her as well. Which I don't, really I don't. Except now I hate her, of course."
"So what were you saying to Mandy to provoke this?"
"I corrected her grammar, Sir. I think that was the final straw." Cecilia said
"And then what happened?" asked father Abbot "I hit her," Cecilia lied.
"I see" said Father Abbot, "and then she retaliated, did she? So that's how you came to be fighting?"
"Yes Sir. I'll know to keep away from her next time. She's got it into her head that I'm her enemy, for some reason. I suppose people with her disadvantages are like that, always seeing the worst in people, lashing out spitefully and with no intelligence. Look what she's done to me. Completely ruined my clothes."
"But you partly blame yourself" asked Father Abbot.
"I thought she was a friend, Sir, but now I realise she never was."
"And you're completely sure you hit her first?"
Cecilia nodded though clenched teeth.
"Thank you Cecilia for your account," said Father Abbot, gratefully. "We'll have Mandy."

Mandy was summoned in, Cecilia remaining still in the room.

"How exactly do you explain this?" asked father Abbot.
Mandy stared at the floor.
"Come on, how exactly?"
"I said that Mary wasn't putting enough effort into netball" said Mandy, "then all the girls ganged up on me. Now previously to this Cecilia and I ..."
Father Abbot put up his hand.
"Mandy, I don't want to hear this. What you did was vicious, and I would have had no option other than to expel you, other than for one thing, which is that Cecilia admitted to me that she struck you first. However your reaction was beyond all proportion. You cannot behave like that. However since it was mutual, punishment runs for both of you, tomorrow morning. Now please leave."
"I will never speak to you again, Mandy" said Cecilia.

Brother Dominic was next in Father Abbot's office.
"That was a really nasty attack" said brother Dominic.
"She needs a good beating" said Father Abbot. "
She's had plenty of good beatings," said brother Dominic, "that's half the problem."
"Fortunately," said Father Abbot, "Cecilia elected to take half the blame. Which makes things a whole lot easier for us."
"Maybe it was a mistake to have Mandy" said brother Dominic.
"No," said Father Abbot, "Mandy is not a mistake."

"I would go to my parents and insist that Mandy is expelled." said short Mary, as soon as she heard of the fight.
"She would have been" said Cecilia, "except that I said I hit her first. I didn't, of course."
"Why did you do that?" asked short Mary.
"Sneaking," said Cecilia.
"That's for boys" said Abagail, "you don't need to pretend anything. She attacked you."
"This is a boy's school, isn't it?" said Cecilia.
"Oh, look, there she comes" said Abagail, "look, let's none of pretend we can even hear her."
"Cecilia," said Mandy, "I need to talk to you."
"Did I hear a mouse squeak?" said Abagail.
"No it was definitely human" said short Mary, "or humanoid, should I say. Something in an accent we can't understand."
"Anyway, as I was saying," said Cecilia, "this is a boys' school, so I'd say that the rules are rules for the boys. It doesn't make sense to have one set for them and one set for girls, because that demeans us."
"Right you are, Cecilia" said short Mary, turning her back on Mandy, "but physical violence is unladylike. It has no place between us."
"Oh, I'd say the same for the boys" said Cecilia, "I don't see how violence is any more acceptable between boys than it is between two girls. What's your opinion, Abbey?"
"Oh, I'd take a cat fight more seriously" said Abagail, "but that makes it sound more trivial than it is. You've been hurt pretty badly, Cecilia."
Actually Abagail didn't know half of it. Mandy had kicked and punched Cecilia in such a way as to inflict maximum physical pain, whilst leaving a minimum of external injury, as she herself had frequently experienced herself. All Cecilia's joints were aching from the inside.

The next morning, Mandy and Cecilia were brought up in gym kit, and made to do the punishment run. There was a slight drizzle in the air and Cecilia hoped that they would be let off, but Father Abbot insisted on them doing it. Mandy raced round the island reasonably smartly. However Cecilia, who had done the run before in fourteen minutes, had been so badly beaten that she was incapable of making the effort. She desperately tried to keep up with Mandy, but her legs and ribs were sore and aching before she started. She managed fifteen minutes thirty.
"Twice round again", called the prefects. Cecilia, exhausted from the previous run, now had to run round twice. Every step was agony, she had a deep stitch. Worse, she had paced herself for a single circuit, and now her legs were demanding reserves of energy that were not there. However it was a different experience to the last punishment run. That one she had deserved, this was voluntary. If only she had not lied about hitting Mandy first, Mandy would have been expelled and she would have been comfortably in the sick bay. Instead she was pounding away three circuits of the island. Because of the time she also missed Mass and breakfast. She felt like being physically sick for the whole of that day, and couldn't concentrate on lessons. However she no longer hated Mandy.

It took Mandy most of that morning to realise that she had been sent to Coventry.

Meanwhile the boys were mainly interested in five-a-side. It was Albert who got the key. The second years were older and more able than the first years, and sliced through the first year defence, bombarding Albert's goal with shots as the St Dunstan's boys had done.
"I need some decent defence" said the goalkeeper, "at the moment we play Sebastian and James forward. Which means that there's no-one to protect the goal when they come through."
"The best players are forward to score the goals" said James
"But it's not like we're scoring many goals anyway," said Albert, "the play is always in our half. We need to pull one of you two back, to win it, then pass it up to the forwards to keep them under pressure.”
“Sebastian, then” said James, “but I won't score as many without another forward to back me up”.
"We're not looking to win, we're looking to told them to less than ten nil. We need a good player back. That's the reality, James.."
"So who can be second forward?" "Let's face it, Adam will never score a goal. So keep him back. Ibrahim goes forwards and tries to get it to you. We play a strong right, with you and Sebastian, and a weak left with Adam and Ibrahim."
Albert had argued James into it.

Playing the new system at lunchtimes, it worked surprisingly well. The first years still lost regularly, but it was by two nil or three nil. Sebastian could intercept the ball and get it up to James, who placed the opposing goal under a constant mild threat. They didn't really have many chances but it was enough to make the second years think and pull back. Sometimes they forgot themselves and pushed all four outfield players forwards, in which case James and Sebastian could break and get shots on goal. Adam was always back, so the first year goal always had a thin layer of defence. He could often get it up to Ibrahim, who passed it sharply over to James. They got a few chances that way. The problem was that James was invariably tackled, tried to pass back to Ibrahim, and lost possession. But Sebastian was back to intercept the inevitable attack, so second year breaks didn't translate to shots on goal so often. Often of course they lost their shape, and the game degenerated into a crowd of eight chasing after the ball, with no-one to receive passes on the other part of the field. But it was fun, and it filled the lunch hours.

Before they knew where they were, it was next Sunday. The children had now been three weeks at St Tom's.