The Brothers' Lot - Kevin Holohan [13]
“Yes sir,” answered Anthony, and darted from the class in relief.
“Mr. Bradshaw, I see by the smirk on your face that you enjoyed that little interlude. Let us see how you enjoy your visit to Brother Loughlin’s office. Out! Now!” barked Mr. Pollock.
Bradshaw stood up and slowly moved toward the door.
“And you can join him, Mr. McDonagh,” added Mr. Pollock.
McDonagh got up and he and Bradshaw left. The puzzlement abroad in the rest of the class was not evident in the two boys. They had a pretty good idea of what they were in for.
Mr. Pollock managed to kill the rest of the double class by inspecting all the books in the cupboard and making each boy sign for what he received. A collective sigh of relief greeted the bell that signaled the ten minutes of morning break.
6
Outside Brother Loughlin’s office was not a pleasant place to be. There was nowhere but Mrs. Broderick’s adjoining office to wait in. She had been at the school longer than anyone. Even Loughlin was a little scared of her. Some of the more articulate sixth years had christened her Only the Good Die Young.
McDonagh, Bradshaw, and Slater from 5-F stood awkwardly half in and half out of her office. Mrs. Broderick ignored them and harrumphed her way through whatever it was she did to pieces of paper to keep the school running. Slater and Bradshaw rubbed their palms together behind their backs to work up some heat that would dull the inevitable leathering they were going to receive. Small break had come and gone and still nothing had happened. The waiting was the worst. They knew it. Brother Loughlin knew it. It wasn’t subtle but it worked.
McDonagh, Bradshaw, and Slater were not new to this experience, but this was one of the more severe raps they had been got on recently, even counting the fire in the toilets that had never been conclusively pinned on them. This time they were in for it. The three of them had been seen at the end-of-year sports day in June carrying Mr. Laverty’s tiny car into the middle of the waste ground beside the Saint Francis Industrial School sports field. What annoyed Mr. Laverty more than the moving of his car were the sticky multicolored spits they had left on the door handles and windshield.
They watched the brown door behind Mrs. Broderick’s head. On the right-hand side was a little gadget with lights on it. At the moment the red light read Engaged. When it changed to the green Enter they would have to go in. They were unsure if it would be a group beating or if they would be broken down individually. Their hearts sank as they heard the unmistakable hurried squeaking of crepe-soled brothel-creepers approaching. Mr. Pollock entered, glowered at them, and wiped the sweat from his head.
Seconds later a gaggle of angry Brothers crowded into the doorway.
“I told you I would deal with this,” Mr. Pollock snapped at them.
“Out of the way!”
“This is an emergency!”
“We have to see him now!”
“Brothers! Gentlemen!” weaseled Mr. Pollock in a pitch honed to cut through even the most uproarious cacophony of voices.
Brother Tobin, the Physics and Geography teacher, broke past Mr. Pollock and barged into Brother Loughlin’s office waving the newspaper. “Take a look at that then!” he stammered, his tobacco-stained shock of gray hair standing up in alarm.
Brother Boland and Brother Kennedy followed Brother Tobin and soon there was a shouting match going on. Mr. Pollock strode into Brother Loughlin’s office and closed the door behind him with a sickening vacuum-like clunk.
The boys could make out the agitated rising and falling tones inside Brother Loughlin’s office but none of the words. Mrs. Broderick too was obviously trying hard to hear what was going on, but as soon as she noticed the boys were aware of this, she glowered at them contemptuously and went back to stapling bits of official-looking paper to other differently colored bits of official-looking paper.
Mr. Pollock’s head suddenly appeared in the crack of the open door: “You boys, yes, you boys there, back to your classes! We’ll deal with you later.”
A