Читать книгу Head Kid - David Baddiel - Страница 18

“Good afternoon, parents,” said Mr Carter. Even though this was Parents’ Open Afternoon, and the point was to make parents feel happy about the school, he said it in more or less the same voice he’d used in assembly, and so most of the mums and dads immediately looked a bit scared.

“Are there any sandwiches?” whispered Eric Stone, father of Ellie and Fred, to his wife, Janine. They were standing in the playground, which Mr Carter had insisted the pupils transform into an inviting space for this special day. It was normally just a long stretch of tarmac with a broken climbing frame at one end, but now there were stalls and colourful bunting, and a big banner that was supposed to say “WELCOME TO BRACKET WOOD PARENTS’ OPEN AFTERNOON!”

Although it actually said WELL COME. Which made it sound as if the school was trying to make the parents, who didn’t really want to, come. Which in most of the parents’ cases – certainly in Eric and Janine’s – would be true.

“Bacon ones, maybe?” Eric continued, looking around hopefully.

“No, Eric!” hissed Janine. “It’s not a greasy spoon café It’s a school!”

“Thank you all for coming today,” continued Mr Carter. “A fair few of you have turned up, which is good. Although I shall be sending letters to those who haven’t.”

“Blimey,” said Tina Ward under her breath, exchanging a glance with Susan Bennett, Barry’s mum. “I don’t much like his attitude!”

“Thank God we made it,” said Geoff, Barry’s dad.

“It is my intention, as I’m sure your children –” Mr Carter gestured behind him, where Years Two to Six were standing in a series of neat (by Bracket Wood standards) lines – “will have told you by now, to transform this establishment into a school that you can be proud to send your children to.”

“And also one that won’t get another Inadequate OFFHEAD rating,” whispered Jackie Bailey, Malcolm’s mother.

“YBBI,” said Libby, Malcolm’s teenage sister who had been dragged along by her mum and was, as ever, bored. She spoke mainly in acronyms. This one meant You’d better believe it.

“Yes!” said Mr Carter. “You HAD better believe it!”

Libby looked a bit shocked that he’d heard. And understood.

“Oh yes, Libby Bailey, I’ve checked all the files! I know you used to go here, where no doubt you learnt to speak mainly in initials … because you didn’t learn enough English when you were here, is my opinion!”

“Hey!” said Libby. “TITLU!” Which means That is totally, like, unfair.

“But,” continued Mr Carter, ignoring her, “that is all going to change. So. We’re going to go into the school in a minute, but first, some children from the lower school are going to do a little performance with the school pets.”

Two Reception pupils, a girl and a boy, came forward, holding a box. They were followed by Miss Finch, in a very nice dress that made her look like the Gruffalo in a very nice dress, and a smiling Miss Gerard. It was lovely that she was smiling, although this did mean that you could see her teeth, which were particularly red-wine-stained today. Which might have been also why she wasn’t walking very steadily.

The children put the box on a table in front of Mr Carter, who grimaced at them in a way that was possibly meant to be friendly and encouraging, but looked more like he was having a small fit.

The girl turned to the parents and, in her loudest outdoor voice, said, “THE SCHOOL PETS ARE TWO TORTOISES. WE GOT THEM FROM ORWELL FARM TO LOOK AFTER.”

Then the Reception boy said (but so quietly it was almost impossible to hear) …

“Their names are Benny and Bjorn. Which a long, long time ago were the names of two men in the band called ABBA.”

“YES!” said the girl, so loudly it made Eric Stone jump. “ABBA!”

“Although the one called Bjorn is actually a girl.”

“SHE IS A GIRL!”

“We are going to take them out and talk for a little while about what tortoises eat and how long they live and the best way to look after them.”

There was a pause. Miss Gerard, who had been looking off to the side and swaying slightly, went, “Oh!” then came forward and lifted the top off the box.

The loud Reception girl lifted up the male tortoise.

The quiet Reception boy lifted up the female tortoise.

There was a short pause when no one said anything.

Mr Carter frowned.

Miss Gerard went, “Eh?”

Mr Barrington took off his enormous glasses.

And then all the parents and all the pupils – except the two holding the tortoises, who just looked confused – started to laugh.

Because the male tortoise was wearing a pair of underpants. And the female was wearing knickers. And a bra.

When I say wearing, what I mean is that Benny – the male tortoise – had a pair of underpants, classic Y-fronts, size small, draped across his shell. His little legs were actually poking through the holes where legs are meant to go. And Bjorn – the female tortoise – was wearing a pair of flowery knickers in the same way, but above them, across her upper half, there was a small bra, such as might have been worn by a Barbie.

The whole image of the two tortoises wearing underwear was made worse – or better, depending on how you looked at it – by both children deciding to hold the tortoises up, with their bellies facing the laughing parents. I should stress at this point that neither tortoise looked at all bothered by this. Bjorn, in particular, looked quite pleased about the outfit. It made her look more like a lady, more as if her name should be, perhaps, Bjornita.

Mr Carter, however, did not look pleased about it.

At all.

“Stop laughing!” he shouted at the children.

They did, immediately.

Mr Carter turned round. “I said …” he snarled at the parents, “STOP LAUGHING.” They also stopped immediately. You could have heard a pin drop. It looked as if the new head teacher’s threatening power had got the situation under control. He turned back to the two Reception children, terrified by now, still holding up the pair of tortoises. They were shaking a little.

Which is possibly why, at that point, Benny’s Y-fronts slipped slowly off his little body and fell in a pile beneath him. Bjornita’s little head turned to look.

And everyone – parents, children and teachers alike – fell about laughing again.

Everyone, that is, but Mr Carter, who, after looking around with contempt at all the hysteria, picked up the underpants and looked inside the waistband.

“Ryan Ward,” he said in a terrifying tone. “My office. Now.”