The World According to Bertie - Alexander Hanchett Smith [119]
Inside the building, Miss Harmony, who was enjoying a cup of tea in the staff room, leapt to her feet and looked out of the window before she hurried out to deal with the emergency.
‘Olive!’ she cried, as she ran towards the screaming girl. ‘What on earth’s wrong?’
Olive opened her eyes. ‘These boys spat at me, Miss Harmony,’ she said. ‘I was just talking to them and they spat at me.’
Miss Harmony sighed. Her task in life was every bit as difficult, she thought, as that taken on by the late Dr Livingstone.
78. Miss Harmony’s Fall
Inside the classroom, while the rest of the class busied itself with an arithmetical exercise, Miss Harmony took Tofu and Bertie to one side.
‘Now, I don’t think I really need to say how disappointed I am,’ the teacher began. ‘Spitting at somebody is not only a very unkind thing to do, it’s also very insanitary. You know that, don’t you? Both of you know that you should never spit at another person.’
‘I didn’t,’ said Tofu. ‘She’s lying, Miss Harmony. Olive tells lies all the time. Everybody knows that.’
Bertie drew in his breath. Tofu was telling a bare-faced lie now, and he marvelled at his ability to do so. Surely Miss Harmony would know that he was lying or, worse than that, she might ask Bertie if it was true. That worried Bertie: it was one thing for Tofu to lie to Miss Harmony; quite another for him to do the same thing. In fact, he would never be able to do it.
‘Now, Tofu,’ said Miss Harmony. ‘Why would Olive tell me that you boys had spat at her if you hadn’t? And, anyway, I noticed that there was something on her face.’
‘That was slime,’ said Tofu. ‘That had nothing to do with me.’
Miss Harmony turned to Bertie. ‘Now, Bertie,’ she said. ‘You’re a truthful boy, aren’t you? You tell me: did you spit at Olive?’
Bertie thought for a moment. He could answer this question quite truthfully. He had not spat at Olive, and he could tell Miss Harmony that. ‘No,’ he said, with some indignation. ‘I didn’t spit at her, Miss Harmony. Cross my heart, I didn’t.’
‘And Tofu, then?’ asked the teacher. ‘Can you tell me, Bertie: did Tofu spit at Olive?’
Bertie looked at Tofu. The other boy had been looking away, but now he shot a glance at Bertie and made a quick throat-slitting gesture with his hand. He did it quickly, but not quickly enough for Miss Harmony not to notice it.
‘I see,’ said the teacher. ‘Ignore that, please Bertie. Tofu has just confirmed his guilt.’
Tofu flushed. ‘It was her fault, Miss Harmony,’ he protested. ‘She told Bertie that he had leprosy.’
Miss Harmony frowned. ‘Bertie, did Olive tell you that?’
Bertie nodded miserably. ‘Yes, Miss Harmony. She took some blood of mine, you see, and did some tests.’
‘Blood!’ exclaimed Miss Harmony. ‘Are you making this up, Bertie?’
Bertie shook his head and began to explain to Miss Harmony about what had happened. He told her of Olive’s visit to Scotland Street and of the junior nurse’s set. When he came to tell her of the syringe and the taking of the blood sample, Miss Harmony winced, and shook her head in disbelief.
‘She actually put the needle in, Bertie?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ said Bertie. ‘Then she told me that she had done some tests and that I had leprosy. That’s when Tofu came and—’
‘Well, we can pass over that,’ said Miss Harmony hurriedly, adding, ‘in the circumstances. But first of all, Bertie, let me assure you: you do not have leprosy. You positively don’t.’
Bertie felt a great weight of anxiety lift off him. Instinctively, he felt his nose again: it seemed more firmly anchored than ever.
‘So,’ went on Miss Harmony, ‘you should now forget all about that. Olive had no right to do any of that, and even if we cannot condone spitting,’ and here she looked at Tofu, ‘there are some occasions on which a blind eye might properly be turned. And so I want you two boys to go and sit down and not to think any more about all this. No more nonsense about leprosy! And no more spitting