The truth of the occupation…

12/11/2008 by April First.

We gathered in the head’s study at noon for a meeting called by Havoc Blythe. Janice, Binky, Bodger, myself, and HB. Somehow we are “the team” – the people at the heart of the affair. Which is fine but I still have no idea what is going on.

“It was the pictures and the library books,” said Havoc Blythe. “Everything else was a blind – the stuff about the Norman tradition, calling everyone sir or ma’am, smiling in the corridor. Everything. The whole issue was the pictures and the library books.”

We waited patiently for a further explanation. “Nothing else made any sense – not in terms of Putin and the rest of the Academy team suddenly leaving. Why should they leave when they were getting everything sorted?”

“But they weren’t getting it sorted,” said Binky. “Everytime they tried to start a new surveillance technique Bodger stopped them. All their cars blew the tyres when they told us to carry out the bleepers.”

“But the point is,” said Havoc Blythe with what to me was just a little too much exaggerated patience, “we were spending all our time on the wrong thing. April said that the pictures were the one nice thing Ms Bland and her gang did in the school. Which is what tipped me off. With the old Academy team out of the way what would we do?”

“Leave the pictures up, put the books back, and return to the school to the previous status quo,” I ventured, rather pleased with my analysis.

“So everything was subterfuge so we never looked at the pictures?” asked Bodger.

I think Havoc Blythe was enjoying this.

“And…” All of us said it together. HB had had his moment, we wanted to know what was what.

“Put up a painting and what will a pupil or student in the school do?”

“Either deface it with graffiti, or else just put grubby paw marks all over it,” said Binky showing a fine and detailed inside knowledge of young person behaviour.”

“And the school encouraged more graffiti by having a graffiti issue. The whole notion of using a phrase from a 30 year old paperback was far too bizarre for it to be real graffiti,” said Bodger, smiling in a way that I have noticed he has when he has made a connection.

“So they put up the pictures, and the pictures are coated in…” HB paused and we waited.

And waited.

“In…” I said.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “It’s at the labs now, we should know tomorrow. But that is the key. So with the pictures being removed even as we speak, we’ll have the walls washed down tonight and we should be back to teaching as usual tomorrow. Meanwhile all the removed library books were put in store, and I only just go there in time to stop them being put back on the shelves. We are removing those for tests too.”

“And you will tell us what has been going on?” I asked.

“Promise,” he said. “What do you think of my new office?”

We went back to work.

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