Maxwell's Revenge Read Free Page A

‘Obviously, this early in the term, there are not too many notices. Departments have their SEN register for the new Year Seven. I’ve asked Subject Leaders for the usual results breakdown and Bernard will be number crunching by Friday. So if anyone has anything to add, now is the time.’ He looked out over the sea of faces and sighed inwardly. They were all so young, these days. If he’d had any culture at all, he’d feel like war-weary Stanhope in Journey’s End welcoming the green boys to the killing fields. He was beginning to have panic attacks when addressing serried ranks in case he wasgiving the Sixth Form his prepared speech for the staff and vice versa. There was not so much as an eyebrow quivering out there and thank goodness. He dismissed the meeting and reached behind him for his jacket. If he was quick, he might avoid being grabbed by …
    ‘Headmaster,’ Maxwell’s voice sounded as though it was actually inside his head, slicing through what passed for his brain. ‘Could I have a moment of your time?’
    ‘Not really, Max, no,’ Diamond said without turning round.
    ‘No problem. I’ll just leave this in your office, then.’
    Diamond spun round. What game was this? Maxwell never backed down. He stood like an ox in the furrow. He would never be the first to blink. His eyes met the man’s smile first and then travelled down to the envelope in his hand. His resignation! Oh, frabjous day!
    Maxwell was still smiling and the envelope was still being proffered. He wondered sometimes how Diamond had ever got this job. He sometimes seemed very slow on the uptake. ‘It’s a wedding invitation, Headmaster,’ he said, hoping to give his man a hint.
    ‘Oh.’ Even Diamond could tell that that response was a little dour. ‘I mean, thank you so much, Max. Congratulations. I assume it is for your wedding? Ha ha.’
    ‘Nolan is a little young as yet, Headmaster. But as soon as he names the day you will, naturally, be a guest of honour.’
    ‘What? Oh, yes, ha ha. Yes.’ Diamond took the envelope and waved it roguishly at Maxwell. ‘Well, as I say, congratulations, Max. Um. Well, I must be away.’ And he was off, like a rat up a pipe.
    Sylvia joined Maxwell. ‘What was that about?’ she asked him.
    ‘I just gave him a wedding invite. You’d have thought I was giving him arsenic.’
    ‘Perhaps he thought it was your resignation,’ she laughed.
    Maxwell looked thoughtful. ‘You may well be right, Sylv. But I’m not sure I intend to give him the satisfaction. I’ll see him out, you see if I don’t.’ It was pure Victor Meldrew at his most waspish.
    ‘Does Jacquie know you intend to stay here until you are ninety?’ Sylvia asked.
    ‘Until next year? Oh, she knows about that. It’s the fact that I’m staying till I’m a hundred she’s not ready for.’ He smiled at her. ‘Good night, Sylv. See you tomorrow.’
    He made his way out to the bike sheds for what seemed like the millionth time, when in fact it could have been no more than the nine thousandth or so. He breathed in the smell of new-mown grass and sun-warmed tarmac andthought again that the fresh air at the end of the first day back at school was the sweetest air in the world. So he was in quite a good mood as he swung round the corner of the Science building to be hit square amidships by a trolley laden with boxes.
    He went down under reams of recycled copier paper like a ton of bricks. He lay there, winded, and looked up to try and see what had happened. A face looked at him over the edge of the trolley. It looked like an extra from a Lord of the Rings film – wispy beard, deep-set, beady eyes and all.
    ‘Oliver Lessing!’ Maxwell wheezed, when he was able. ‘What are you doing here?’
    ‘Volunteering,’ Lessing spat. ‘County delivery service. Look at what you’ve done. That paper is all bent now, thanks to you.’
    ‘Lucky you,’ Maxwell said, hauling himself up using the trolley for support. ‘You’ll excuse me if I