I am shocked beyond beyondness

Not surprisingly Havoc Blythe knows all about me being with MI5, what with him being with the Service too. He sat in on the start of my meeting with Call, my contact in the Service, before discretely retiring to carry on with the task of stopping teachers who claim they were against the Ms Bland regime from setting fire to the books of teachers who they claim were “lackeys of the Norman Tradition.”

I was mortified about Havoc Blythe. I mean, I knew he knew, because Havoc Blythe knows everything, but still.

Does a woman have no secrets?

Call congratulated me, told me that my back pay was being sorted, that it would be in before Xmas, along with a bonus, and that Havoc Blythe had made it quite clear that I played a major part in the overthrow of the Bland regime so quickly.

“You mean they didn’t plan to get out when they did?” I asked.

“Of course not,” said Call. “They knew that you were countering their every move, and that in the end they had no chance of overcoming your strategy, and so they abandoned the place.”

“But they had the toxoplasmosis parasite all over the school” I said. “I thought we failed.”

“Rubbish,” said Call. “The plan was to infect every single person at such a level that simple injections would never kill off the virus. You stopped it at the early stages, and Her Majesty’s Government is very grateful. Very grateful indeed. Your modesty becomes you, perhaps you would like to come out for a meal sometime?”

I said I would think about it.

“Your work in undermining Ms Bland and her colleagues was utterly central to everything. Quite frankly I don’t know how you do it, and in fact we are thinking of giving you a post in a training college to show young recruits how you do it. Singlehandedly April you brought the whole school administration to a halt.”

I thought about it. I am not sure it is something I want to put on my cv.

“So what now?” I asked.

“Well the good doctor will have to calm things down, we need you and your worthy team to get the admin system running again, and we’ll have the school ship shape (if it were a ship at any rate that is how we would have it) before Christmas.”

“Hang on,” I said. “What do you mean ‘my worthy team’?”

“Didn’t Havoc Blythe tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“You are head of administration in the school.”

“No he did not tell me.”

“Probably didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Well if there is nothing else…” he made to move.

“Just a moment,” I said, “what are you saying my job is – and in terms of your answer where does the Bursar, and Ms Marchmount fit in?”

“You, April First, are head of administration. You can call yourself Bursar if you wish – that is up to you. The past Bursar has been attacked by a group known as Parents Against the Norman Traditions.”

“Pants?” I asked.

“Indeed,” he said. “The bursar ate a lot of chips I believe.”

I said that I thought he did.

“Then that would explain it. The chips were crawling in the parasite.” (I decided never to eat a chip again). “Mrs Marchmount has asked for compassionate leave to help her find a new man-friend – apparently the last one left when he heard that she might have toxoplasmosis inside her. But you have not been promoted because of their departure – it was always the plan that you would take over once victory was secure.”

“No one told me,” I said.

“Need to know,” said he, and I couldn’t think of an answer. Didn’t I need to know? Apparently not.

“So just get the school in order would you. Your cheque is in the post.”

And with that he got up and left.

As I strolled back to the office in a somewhat bemused state Havoc Blythe came up to me and pecked me on the cheek. “Congratulations,” he said, and sailed in that annoying way he has, back into his office.

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