Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [7]
Suddenly he believed in miracles. A big boy came into the classroom with a message for the teacher. The lesson was cancelled. Everyone was to go to the school hall at once for a special assembly. There was a great scraping of chairs as the children jumped up, full of boisterous relief. It seemed that quite a few hadn’t learned that fearsome list.
‘No talking!’ shouted Mr Wilson, who looked as surprised by the change of plan as the rest of them. ‘Line up in alphabetical order and follow me.’
All the other classes were filing into the hall. The headmaster was on the edge of the stage, telling everyone to hurry up and to sit cross-legged on the floor so that the whole school could get in. It was only after Johnny had taken his place, crammed in between Albert Taylor and Ernest Roberts, that he noticed two people sitting on chairs behind the headmaster. It was the school nurse, and Dr Langford, with a stethoscope round his neck.
The headmaster called for silence and stillness. ‘As you can see, we have a visitor. Many of you may already know Dr Langford.’
There was an outbreak of chatter as the children compared notes on visits to the doctor. Johnny started telling Ernest how he’d had a ride on Dr Langford’s bike only that morning. The teachers, who were sitting on chairs all round the edge of the hall, shushed everyone quiet. Mr Wilson leaned forward and slapped Johnny on the head to shut him up.
The headmaster continued, ‘Dr Langford has informed me that the family of one of our pupils has become infected with a serious illness.’
There was another buzz of talking, quickly stopped by the staff.
‘Silence,’ barked the headmaster. ‘This is a most important matter. We have no reason to suppose that any of you are ill, but it is necessary for you to be checked straight away. You must all strip down to your underwear and make your way to the stage. Fold your clothes neatly, and leave them to mark your place.’
Johnny was horrified. He hadn’t expected to have to undress today. He was wearing his oldest pants and vest. They were full of holes, and badly needed a wash. He knew he’d be teased by the other boys, especially Albert Taylor who, because of the alphabet, was right next to him. He expected Ernest Roberts on his other side to have a go at him too. Ernest lived a few doors down from the Swansons. He had been Johnny’s friend and playmate until that term, when Mrs Roberts had taken him to the optician and he’d been prescribed thick spectacles. The boys at school were no kinder to Ernest than the girls had been to Olwen. Constant jokes about Ernest’s glasses had made him crack. Now he did Albert Taylor’s bidding in return for his protection. He’d become Taylor’s shadow, doing his homework and doling out insults and menace on command. If that meant persecuting his old friend, Johnny, for being short and poor, it was a price Ernest felt he had to pay.
Shivering with fear rather than cold, Johnny slowly pulled off his jumper and shirt. He saw Mr Wilson advancing again, ready to strike. Johnny winced, but Wilson reached across him and wrenched at Albert Taylor’s arm instead, revealing an inky trail that ran from his wrist to his elbow.
‘What’s this, boy?’ shouted Mr Wilson. ‘See me after school.’ He gave Taylor’s arm a quick twist as he flung it down again, and Albert huddled into himself, trying to hide the list of biblical names he’d written on his skin: Jamin, Ohad, Jachin, Zohar, Shaul, and many more. From the stage, the headmaster sent one of his nasty stares across to the group of boys around Taylor. It promised trouble in the future.
But the head had more pressing business. ‘Right,’ he said when everyone was undressed. ‘Now come up, class by class, one by one, to see the doctor. Then go back to your