The Destinies of Darcy Dancer, Gentleman

13

Mr Arland knocking early on my door in the morning. And saying neither sad nor glad that he would await me in the lobby. And that we must hurry. I quickly brushed my hair in order to warm up my brain and found a long grey strand. Clearly turned that way from all my recent cares. It was all twisted and I plucked it out.

The lobby this morning full of traffic. Of business men arriving and country squires departing. Mr Arland being very businesslike checking through our hotel bill. Wouldn’t tell me how much it was as I tried to look but said it was substantial. We called at gentlemen’s outfitters the top of Grafton Street. Where Mr Arland said he obtained his silk Trinity ties. And where a most agreeable shop assistant officiated over my purchase of shirts socks and underwear. And we stepped back out on the street.

‘And what did my father say to you.’

‘Kildare, it would do no good to tell you.’

‘You are no longer my tutor.’

‘That’s correct.’

‘What will you do.’

‘Find a teaching post I suppose.’

‘Will you like that.’

‘Not really.’

‘Isn’t there something else you could do.’

‘Yes. But I probably won’t.’

‘Why.’

‘O I don’t know. There’s much to recommend merely remaining a stick in the mud.’

‘Sir, this is one of the saddest days in my life.’

‘Come Kildare, buck up.’

‘I can’t sir jump up and down in joy and be jolly.’

‘I know you can’t Kildare. I know you can’t.’

We were passing the cinema where last night I saw the cowboy film with everyone being shot off horses and gentlemen in saloons downing whiskeys while pulling out their guns and between the briefest of insults blasting each other to death. Well pardner if you don’t reckon to get yourn head shot clean off you’d all better vamoose. Any normal person would be exhausted losing their tempers so often on the brink of death. And most of the film was quite utterly silly. But they were amazing good horsemen. And following some amusing cartoons and at the end of a travelogue concerning a trip to Mexico I went by myself to have supper. In the cinema’s cosy café upstairs. Upholstered seats and little lamps on the tables. Five different teas you could order on the menu. Among which were The Tasty, The Savoury and The Epicure. All consisting of tea, bread and butter but with the variation of eggs boiled, fried or poached and with either tomato, sausage or bacon. The girl who served me had a big freckled cheeked country face and spied from behind a cupboard watching me eat. To rush out smiling the instant I finished anything on my plate, asking would I be wanting more. Before I could say no, with my mouth still full, she said sure you’ll have another helping. Rushing away and returning with more sausage, tomato, poached egg, tea, bread, jam and butter. Out of politeness for her hospitality I kept on eating as best as I spiritually could. Till I was physically gorged groaning. But I knew she knew I was from the country, and out of that comradeship she was only trying to give me the best of service and hospitality. As well as clearly depriving her employers of a profit.

Ten thirty by the blue dial of Trinity’s clock. As we crossed this wide street and went by the big grey bank. The clanging roaring trams. The street aswarm with bicycles. Big rumbling horse carts stacked with barrels. Replenishing Mr Arland said, the empty cellars of the pubs following the weekend. And getting ready for Monday night which would leave them even emptier. The pavements astir with expressionless faces on their way. A blond young man on the bridge holding out a tin cup and stoically turning the handle of a street organ. Who had also stood there as a young boy through Mr Arland’s undergraduate years. Past an ice cream parlour of cold faces seated inside the windows. And further on under the gloomy granite portico of the post office. Where we turned down a street called Henry. To buy me a suitcase and two blue blankets. And with all my new supplies packed in, we took a train.

In the empty chill first class carriage, Mr Arland spoke of Clarissa’s friend Rashers Ronald who, aided and abetted by the actress, was in feverish hot racing pursuit to marry a very fat, dyed blonde lady widow who owned four pubs, an eighty acre farm, two newsagents and a tobacconist’s shop. From the latter of which Rashers was already collecting a daily ration of twenty free cigarettes of a brand nicely named Mr Arland said Passing Clouds.

In a drizzling rain, six stations down the track, a motor car met us. To take us further cross country several miles from this town and up a winding drive to a big stone country house. From which as we mounted its wide bleak steps, I swore instantly to run away. Mr Arland I thought had moisture in his eyes as he shook my hand in this large barren cold front hall. He said he’d just been to put in a good word with a master he knew. And I felt a shuddering in my breast and globules in my own eyes hearing the motor car door shut, the engine rev and the wheels move away over the pebbles. Two small boys carrying my bags took me back through a long passage and up stone winding stairs into a long dormitory. The day now darkening out the windows. Parklands and fields. A lake. Over which I could see the distant slow progress of swans flying. And as I stood, my bags stacked next to a mattress doubled back on the bed another larger boy my size came up to me.

‘You are in our form. I’ve come to present the compliments of Supreme number one. What’s your name.’

‘Kildare.’

‘And your christian name.’

‘Reginald.’

‘Reggie.’

‘I’m afraid I do not want to be called that.’

‘Alright then. Kildare. Well Kildare, you look a good sort. Who would you like to challenge for supremacy. There are those ranking from one down to twenty seven.’

‘No one.’

‘Well then you shall be everyone’s slave.’

‘I shall not be anyone’s slave.’

‘O well we shall see about that. Unless you challenge for supremacy you are at the bottom of the ladder. Where have you been before this.’

‘That is my business.’

‘You are, aren’t you, a rather cheeky fellow. Especially coming brand new here. I am second in supreme here. That is how we rank each other. With a number. First second and so on. There’s a mediocre chap Jones from Wales. You could I think just pop him one straight in the kisser and you would then be fourth in supreme.’

‘I would like nothing better than to be nothing in supreme here.’

‘O it is like that is it. Come come now. You are being a most tedious fellow you know. I think you may be nervous in your new surroundings. Are you anyone who matters.’

‘What do you mean by that.’

‘O I mean does your father have a title or own estates. The usual sort of thing. It helps you know if you are of the right sort. Are you the right sort.’

‘Don’t be impertinent.’

‘Ah you are of the most brazen sort. Dear me. Don’t be impertinent. You know that is a misdemeanour to speak to me like that. You’re not a potato digger are you. Or a boggie. Or a shopkeeper’s son.’

‘I said don’t be impertinent.’

‘And what Reggie are you going to do about it if I am.’

‘I shall sock your jaw off in quick fashion.’

‘Ah you challenge me to supremacy.’

‘I challenge you to nothing. I will merely do as I have just said if you continue along with your stupid little childish game.’

‘Well let me warn you. I am the sixth best fighter in this whole school. But you are a spunky. My name is Purejoy. And of course as you prefer I shall call you Kildare. But Kildare if you want my honest opinion, I think you are very much a type usually referred to as a curmudgeonly fellow. If you are scholarly enough to be familiar with the word. And perhaps should be left to your own sad devices. And miss out completely on all the goodies that the influential top members of this school are in the habit of enjoying. Including, of course, having your own private personal room and slave. O well maybe you’ve been sent down from another school for being similar to how you are now. But if you have any brains at all, you will change your tune.’

‘Goodbye.’

‘Certainly, goodbye. But you may be wishing all too soon that you had said something quite else.’

Darcy Dancer sat by the mattress. Looking again out on the fields as darkness fell. Until the lights of the dormitory were switched on. As somewhat smaller boys charged in. And whispered putting books back in lockers. At the sound of what seemed an evening dinner gong, they charged out again. Another boy came in and said he was delegated to escort me. And that until a better name was allowed him by Supreme number one I would have to address him as Stupid.

‘Have you a christian name.’

‘Yes. But that too has been changed.’

‘To what.’

‘Awfully.’

Down into a hall, lighted with brass chandeliers. Long refectory tables. A young woman serving soup. Stares at me. And stares again when I stare back. Chunks of leathery beef floating in thin brown gravy. Lemonade and tea to drink. Awfully Stupid sitting next to me. Being awfully loud slurping up his food. Purejoy at a distant corner table turned round once to look. With other heads boisterous and noisy turning with him. No doubt to rain retribution upon me for my reluctant attitude. To become a big bully with them. By midnight tonight I will be miles away. Wear three pairs of socks and all my six pairs of underwear. Head out cross country in the opposite direction from the new moon. Awfully Stupid nervously next to me nudging my elbow.

‘I say, Kildare, they are rather looking at you, aren’t they.’

‘So it seems.’

‘They call themselves the Presidium at that table. For infractions of their rules they conduct courts. You must be careful not to offend them.’

The serving girl still staring each time she comes to our table. Now when I look at her she casts her eyes down as she stands waiting with dinner ended. The clattering of dishes and shuffling of chairs and the silence as two masters from a high table file out. Followed by the bigger boys of the Presidium. Purejoy central among them. Who with three others now turned again to regard me with rather sickly grins as they passed. I stood next to Stupid who throughout the meal as I left food on my plate asked my permission to scrape it off on to his. I also gave him my entire pudding. Which seemed nothing more than stale bread chunks soaked in warm milk. Of which latter I could get plenty from some cow in a pasture tonight.

‘Stupid. Why not use your middle name for you. Do you have one.’

‘Yes.’

‘What.’

‘Kelly.’

‘It’s not very original. But we’ll call you that then. At least it’s much better than Awfully Stupid.’

‘I hope no one finds out you’re not calling me Awfully Stupid.’

‘Don’t worry if they do. They’ll have to account to me.’

‘But they can be wretched. They always travel together. And have bodyguards. Supreme number one two and three conduct attic torture after lights out. They push red hot pins into your skin. If you cry out they later shove your head under water in the tub. And if they think your bottom is awfully attractive they bugger you.’

A bell tolling eight. Darcy Dancer with Awfully Stupid in the library. As this boy whisperingly showed a play he had written and kept secretly hidden stuck up underneath a library table. Another boy entering as Awfully Stupid tucked his manuscript up under his sweater.

‘Are you Kildare.’

‘Yes.’

‘God I’ve been looking all over school for you. Follow me. Mr Michael wants to speak with you in his study.’

Following this boy out to the front hall. And up the main flight of stairs and along to the end of another corridor. Stone flagged, chill and Gothic. The boy asking if I played cricket or rugger. And said nothing further when I said no. He left as I knocked. Come in. A small sitting room. Warm inside. A turf fire blazing in the grate. Mullioned windows left and right of the chimneypiece. Books on opposing walls from floor to ceiling. This gentleman with long black wavy hair and sad brown eyes in a grey tweed suit. An insignia on his blue tie just like one I’ve seen Mr Arland wear. Bag of golf clubs in the corner. He puts a hand out. To shake rather softly mine.

‘Please. Sit down. It’s all very strange for you I’m sure. This institutional life. I understand you’ve not had the doubtful pleasure of being in a school before.’

‘No sir.’

‘Well I’m sorry we’ve temporarily had to put you among smaller boys. But we weren’t quite expecting to have you so soon. Indeed we were only expecting you for an interview. However. We’ll get it all sorted out. Mr Arland is an old friend of mine. Speaks very highly of you. I’m not exactly headmaster but I’m senior enough perhaps to be able to do some things which may make your stay here more comfortable. Wretchedly cold out in the dormitories for a start I know. Please don’t continue to stand. Do sit.’

‘Thank you. But I’d just like to stand sir. I’ve been sitting rather much already today.’

‘By all means, then. I suppose you’re well used to big old gloomy places like this. From what Mr Arland tells me.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Well both he and I were together nearly Trinity’s entire golf team. He’s always been a somewhat shy retiring fellow. But a cracking good golfer. Easily ranked among the very best. He’s very sad no longer to be tutoring you. But I suppose you already know that.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Tell you what. I think we might make things here a lot easier for you. School’s chock full of a lot of little ruffians. And a few but very few, rather tough types. Not to worry. We have to get used to you just as you have to get used to us. But I might just be able to see to it that you have no hard passage to row. But no favouritism you understand.’

‘Thank you sir, but really it isn’t necessary.’

‘Well I’m not sure you may not find it so. It is not as if you have come out of some other school. You know going through the mill. The hard knocks, and all that sort of thing. What.’

‘Well one does, merely by living a country life come by hard knocks, sir.’

‘Ha ha I’ll bet you do by jove. Mr Arland said you chase the fox.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well plenty of hard knocks in that pursuit.’

‘I agree sir.’

‘We’ve had scarlet coats through here a number of times. Had to fetch a man rolled on by his horse to hospital with two broken legs. Awful sight he was too. But the defiant gentleman was trying to fight us away and be lifted back up on his horse.’

‘Remounting is essential sir in order to ensure your nerve is not lost.’

‘Good lord, what about the man’s legs.’

‘You can always ride without legs but not without nerve, sir. At least if you have even a little bit of legs left.’

‘Well anyway. Legs or not, you seem well able to take care of yourself. And you know where to come. Find me here most Monday and Thursday evenings. Just knock. And Mr Arland tells me, you do a little reading.’

‘Not really as much as I should sir.’

‘Well you’re welcome to these shelves any time.’

‘Thank you sir.’

‘And tell me, not that I want to pry into your relationship with Mr Arland, but you do know who Mr Arland’s father is.’

‘No sir.’

‘Ah. Well that is not, that question, let me hasten to say, indicative in any way that you should know.’

‘I know his father is an aristocrat sir. But that is all I know.’

‘O well that’s enough. We could all do with being more aristocratic. Not really that it is finally any spiritually decisive factor in living a better life. But it materially helps to get one going. Course it can sometimes hinder one to keep going. So. Good to have you with us, Kildare. Goodnight.’

Back through the corridors. Hear my footfalls echo. Men make that sound going to the scaffold. Sound of voices elsewhere. Portraits on the walls. Scent of turf smoke. Organ music. Get back fast now to plan. Would pack what I could in a pillow case, if it weren’t so white. Best fill a sweater, tie the sleeves closed, break an ashplant out of a hedgerow. And carry my woolly possessions suspended over my shoulder. That just sounded like a scream. Followed by piercing laughter. Getting educated like this must be a barbaric experience.

Darcy Dancer entering the dormitory. Faint yellow light. My bed down the far end. Past all these others. Must pass so many beds undetected. Two boys giggling and shoving. Stand aside for me to civilly walk by. As if I might bite them if they did not. The girl who served soup. Something about her face nearly familiar. Standing at the side of my own bed. Smoothing down the blankets with the palms of her hands. Awfully Stupid sitting there. Clad in green pyjamas and pink socks. Jumps up as I arrive. Everybody’s eyes in this place are like those of a frightened animal. And this girl. Even as she leaves. Grey sweater peeking out at the throat and sleeves from underneath a blue overall. I cannot think why she would stare at me so. Just as I find I stare back. Each time rather more wanting to look in her eyes.

‘I can call you Kildare. Can’t I.’

‘Yes Kelly.’

‘Please. They were seen earlier. And I hear they are still lurking around. You must address me properly.’

‘Who were seen.’

‘The Presidium members of course.’

‘I don’t in the least care if they are around Kelly.’

‘You should you know. Last term a boy got hung up by his wrists and ankles for two hours from an attic rafter. And there are even much worse things than that.’

‘What.’

‘I’ll tell you later I think.’

‘Why not now.’

‘Well. I think it’s so sinful.’

‘What is sinful.’

‘They make you masturbate while they all watch and you’ve got to do it three times in quick succession in order to be let off a beating or hanging.’

Darcy Dancer opening suitcases. Lights out. Boys going back and forth to the wash room with towels toothbrushes and toothpaste. Blackness on the windows. Someone passing down there with a lantern. Fog outside. The new moon would be long set now. Be such a black black night. Awfully Stupid does really seem awfully stupid. But harmless. Sitting as he does, his face wretched with anxiety, cracking the knuckles of his fist again and again. Licking his lips. As he thinks up some new question. Then scratching his head. Then frowning. Before finally leaning forward to speak.

‘Are you fearless, Kildare.’

‘No. I have fears, Kelly.’

‘You don’t seem to.’

‘Well I do. But bullies don’t frighten me. Fear can be quite good for you. It makes you watch out.’

‘O you’re so absolutely right, you really are. I’m bloody well watching out all the time.’

‘That’s jolly good then Kelly.’

‘You know I wish you were going to stay here next to me. I really do. I hardly have any real friends. I really am all alone down here in this corner now. That was Dunster’s bed. He got pneumonia. And it wasn’t long after he got the tub treatment too. I think that’s what gave it to him. But you’ll probably get your own room soon. Wish I had one. Even though locks aren’t allowed. I’d lock it right up. They hate me because I’m a shopkeeper’s son. Only they won’t admit. But so are some of them. I come from County Kildare the same as your name. Where do you come from.’

‘Kelly I think it is time for you to go to sleep. And conserve your energy for your fight against your torturers.’

‘It’s no joke Kildare, the way you make it sound. What are you doing. Putting on all those layers of underclothing.’

‘Just underwear, I’m easily chilled at night. Doctor’s orders.’

‘O.’

‘Goodnight Kelly.’

‘Goodnight Kildare.’

An owl hoot. Some whispering. Stare up at this ceiling. Till all is sleeping. And a dog barking. Somewhere far out there in the darkness. Be sheep dogs chasing me cross country. If only I had Kern and Olav. They would merely snap their necks one by one. As they did with any dog venturing into Andromeda Park. How many miles will I have to go. Without boots my feet will get awfully wet. But they slow you down when you have to run. From farmers bulls and dogs. Poor old little Kelly. Sat there tonight the side of his bed as if he were in prison. Awaiting execution in the morning. He’d be absolutely no use out roughing it. Terrified of shadows. Chewing his fingernails and cracking his knuckles the way he constantly does. And now his bed squealing as he tosses and turns.

Silence growing in the dormitory. Whispers hushing. Only a snuffle and a cough here and there. But that was a whimper. A torch light flashing in the door and down the beds. Must be a master. Checking the inmates. See if any have escaped. Just wait perhaps a little longer. This morning Mr Arland said, just as we went by that alley down which Lois took me, that we were all in our own little ways on a treadmill but that he hastened to add that it was prudent to consider one’s position there fortunate. But my monotonous presence here clearly will be unblest. If only I had had time to reconnoitre the ground floor. Should have ate more of my supper. Feel gnawing pangs of hunger now. Even stuffed as I was in the Grafton Cinema Café. Kelly would conclude I was permanently departing if I inquired of him where stores are kept. Kitchens just in back beyond the dining hall. Borrow a bit of bread cheese and butter. The more butter the better. None served at supper. Poor old Kelly there just releasing a snore. Only grown up thing he seems able to do. Nannie nannie, some other little boy has just cried out. Shadows. The end of the dormitory. One two three four. And now five. Tiptoeing. Creaking. Coming down this end. Best to appear asleep.

Figures stopping at Darcy Dancer’s bed. Two moving up one side, two the other. One standing at the foot. And a hand reaching. Pushing Darcy Dancer on the shoulder.

‘Kildare. Wake up. We are the Presidium. I am the spokesman. We have come to invite you to an inquisition.’

‘What inquisition.’

‘Your inquisition. Get up. And come with us.’

‘I won’t get up and come with you.’

‘You will if we make you.’

‘Well then try and make me.’

‘There are five of us. And one of you. Don’t be so daft now to challenge us.’

‘I don’t care how many.’

‘Keep your voice down. I suppose you plan to shout and wake everyone up. A cowardly call for help. Is that it.’

‘No.’

‘Well then. We see you’ve made a friend of Awfully Stupid there. To start with that’s awfully stupid of both of you. At least Awfully Stupid is not that stupid that he would refuse to come. Are you Awfully Stupid.’

‘No Supreme number one.’

‘We of course, Kildare, will merely take Awfully Stupid in your place, if that’s the kind of thing you prefer. We’ll let you listen to his agonizing screams through the ceiling. Awfully Stupid has the most god awful scream you can imagine. Ah that’s better. You are getting up. We thought you would not want harm to befall your new little friend. You may put on socks trousers and jacket. But no shoes. For silence sake. There is much stealthy creeping to be done.’

Darcy Dancer, preceded by two in front and followed by three behind, walking out the dormitory door. Turning left into a small corridor. And up three steps into another. Under an archway to a landing. And up a tiny narrow staircase. Another door. Opening into a water closet. A ladder being brought in. The door closed. And latch secured. The suspended electric light bulb pulled aside by a string.

‘You see Kildare. We post a guard here during daytimes. Should someone want to use the water closet he then soon hears within the unpleasant sound of yawking and even viler sounds should such be necessary to defer further inquiry.’

The spokesman climbing the ladder rungs up to the top and pushing open a small wooden cover in the ceiling. Darcy Dancer signalled to follow. And the last member of the Presidium tugging up the ladder and closing back the tiny trapdoor. Candles lit. Vast rafters across the ceiling. Sound of dripping water into a great tank. Dusty wood wormy floors covered with little black beads of mouse dung. Stack of newspapers and magazines. In a circle, boxes draped with black cloth. Each with a numeral. One to seven. A chair with a high back emblazoned with a red skull and bones.

‘Now Kildare. You sir, shall be there placed in the middle. So the inquisition may begin.’

‘I’ll stand where I am.’

‘O dear you are difficult. How many pairs of underwear are you wearing.’

‘None of your business.’

‘Strange. Indeed if not even suspicious. Were you expecting us and wanted to keep warm. Surely you are not that cold here. Now the purpose of this convening is to find out exactly why, when given a friendly invitation to challenge for a place in supremacy among us and maybe even become one of us, you are instead defying us.’

‘I’m not defying anybody.’

‘You rejected Supreme number two’s overtures this very afternoon. We want to know why.’

‘I just don’t want to join anything.’

‘I regret we do not accept that as sufficient reason.’

‘It’s my reason. I’m not a joiner.’

‘O. What a pity. You are then a lone wolf are you. We still don’t think that sufficient.’

‘I think it is.’

‘Well we unanimously don’t Kildare. Now. Your full name is Reginald Darcy Dancer Thormond Kildare. Is that not correct.’

‘Incorrect.’

‘Of course we already know it is correct. You have, have you not, rather barrelled your name up. It’s all right the Darcy but the Thormond and the Dancer. That’s all a bit much.’

‘My name is Reginald Darcy Thormond Dancer Kildare. And not Dancer Thormond.’

‘O. Good gracious. And dear me. But I believe that such a slight variation as that is referred to in legal circles as being de minimis.’

‘You don’t, do you, Kildare know what that means.’

‘It means to be of a significance so small as to be deserving of no remedy.’

‘Dear me, you are a clever sort. But anyway one could be forgiven for getting names like yours a little mixed up. Now tell us, what do you know of the death of the Viscount Horatio Nelson. He is you see our patron, absent in death of course. Our members learn everything there is to know about the noble admiral’s life. And it is the required duty of any of our members to once each term climb to the top of Nelson’s pillar in Dublin.’

‘I know little of him and care less and would not climb a mouse’s back in his honour.’

‘Ah just as Supreme number two has mournfully reported to us. You are cheeky, irreverent but spunky. And handy with words aren’t you. What if we were to tell you that we cannot tolerate such remarks.’

‘Don’t.’

‘Don’t. O dear. Kildare, if you are not merely chancing your arm, you are for someone so recently arrived very much assured. But as you have yet to prove yourself to us you are not entitled to such haughty behaviour.’

‘I shall be as haughty as I damn well please.’

‘You mean that you are asking us to employ methods sanctioned by the Presidium and usually reserved for boys in lower forms, to make you see the light. I mean come come don’t for heaven’s sake try to make seeming shocking cads of us. We want to give you every chance. We want only to have a trim well run ship. And avoid floggings. We all benefit that way. Things are then conducted in a predictable manner. There are our circle wanks. A prize for those who can come off first. We have, as well, for those desiring, our own personal female slut. You would wouldn’t you Kildare like to know what it’s like to fuck a female. Or if one has made close friends with a boy of a lower form and you wish to have shall we say further and better particulars of his attractions. Well. Nothing could be simpler. Your privacy is ensured. Doesn’t that make sense to you.’

‘If you’re finished I should now like to return to my bed.’

‘We are not finished, not by a long chalk. Is that not so Supreme number two.’

‘Quite so Supreme number one.’

‘And so, Kildare, imagine, here you are. Totally at our mercy. And you choose to continue to behave like this. O well. I think the time has come to show you who is boss. And I hereby direct as empowered under the Presidium that the sanctions be imposed for infractions under the syllabus of punishments as constituted. Take his arms and legs Supreme two three four five.’

‘Touch me and each of you will regret it in turn.’

‘Grab him.’

‘Let go of me.’

‘Hold him, for god’s sake, hold him.’

‘Christ he’s strong.’

‘Hold him, get his head in a lock. Get him down, down.’

‘Bloody hell, don’t let him loose, knocking over the candles.’

‘Get him, the fucking bastard.’

‘O Christ, where the hell is everyone.’

‘I’ve got him.’

‘No you haven’t, you’ve got me you stupid bastard.’

‘A newspaper is alight.’

‘Put it out you sod.’

‘I can’t while this fucking Kildare is loose.’

‘I’ve got him.’

‘You’ve got me again, you sod.’

Crunching splintering timber. Of feet plunging through the worm eaten floorboards. A box sent bouncing. And one last candle sent flickering out. The smell of burning. And brightness once more. Of the pile of newspapers alight. And a box as well. Allowing all to see once again in this attic darkness. The milling bodies, grabbing twisting tugging and tumbling one on top of the other.

‘Something’s burning.’

‘Of course it is you stupid sod, put it out.’

‘Good lord somebody, there really is a fire, it’s going.’

‘Get this wretched Kildare first, get him.’

‘Eeeeke. Who’s got me. Someone’s got my balls.’

‘No need to scream about it.’

‘The ruddy wretch, stop him, he’s pulling my balls off.’

‘A randy devil like you will soon grow another pair.’

‘Voices down, you awful dumb ninnies, you’ll wake the dead.’

‘Well the place is ruddy well burning down, and that will ruddy well roast the dead.’

‘This is what it must have been like for Nelson at the battle of Trafalgar.’

‘Stop. This is Supreme number one speaking. Stop. I order it. The ruddy fire’s spreading. Let him go. Put the fire out. Put it out for god’s sake.’

‘There’s nothing to put it out with.’

‘Use jackets, anything.’

‘Good lord. The school is on fire. It’s ruddy well on fire. It ruddy well is.’

‘Let’s then get the ruddy hell out of here.’

‘Get water out of the tank.’

‘How, you stupid wretch.’

‘Climb in. Overflow it or something.’

‘You overflow it. I’m not drowning in there.’

‘We can’t let the whole school burn down.’

In the orange licking light, Supreme number three, climbing up and over the sides of the tank. Splashing in the water. Supreme number two coughing and eyes smarting.

‘That’s no fucking good. It’s not reaching the fire.’

‘Break the pipe.’

‘You can’t.’

‘Well you can’t get water like that.’

‘O God. The fumes. This is awful. I can’t breathe.’

‘Raise the alarm.’

‘Shut up, I’m giving commands. Quick all grab the pipe. Come on Kildare. You’re in this too. Break it. Altogether. When I count to three. One. Two. Three. Heave. Christ.’

The pipe wrenched from its join at the foot of the tank. Water shooting out in a jet across the attic floor, and splashing up against a joist supporting the roof.

‘Good God all that’s going to do is flood the entire school.’

‘Let’s get out of here. And anyone who breathes a word about this will answer to the Presidium.’

‘Look at it, the flames are spreading right along those dead ivy leaves. Right down the whole attic. There won’t even be a Presidium if you don’t get out of here fast.’

The trapdoor to the water closet pulled open. A whoosh of air coming in along with the electric light. Flames suddenly waxing brighter. Feverish hands grabbing. Count the silhouette of heads. Five figures crouched. The ladder lowered down. Supreme number one clambering into this much sought after aperture. To take an instantly ill appreciated precedence in exiting.

‘I say Supreme number one, that’s not awfully exemplary, leaving the rest of us behind. Certainly not in the spirit of Nelson who would be the last to leave his sinking ship.’

‘Shut up number three, this is a ruddy burning school not a ruddy ship. Besides with you stupidly soaking wet and diving in the water tank, I have to be at the bottom of the ladder first to count to make sure no one else has followed your feeble minded example and is left behind drowning.’

‘You liar.’

‘That’s a challenge.’

‘You bet it is.’

‘Shush. Good lord listen. It’s roaring. The fire is beginning to roar. Isn’t that marvellous how it can do that.’

‘It may be marvellous Supreme number five but upon my great grand aunt Queen Victoria, I am, gentlemen, not remaining to listen but am about to say toodle ooo. And upon decamping out of here where it’s already beginning to piss down from the ceiling I’m going to watch this conflagration from the front ruddy lawn in relative ruddy comfort.’

‘Come back here number four.’

‘Fuck you number one.’

‘By god, you sod I’ll see you flogged before the main mast.’

‘Well I’ll see you, my good man, barbecued before the school assembly.’

‘Someone’s got to yell fire. Quickly. We must rouse the school.’

‘Come on number two, and Kildare, get down.’

Darcy Dancer helping to guide Supreme number two clutching at the rungs. His eyes blinking and blinded by smoke. As these two last escapees descend spluttering and choking. Supreme number three holding the ladder at the bottom while shaking his head sidewards to dislodge water out of his ears. His soaked clothes clinging and a puddle collecting at his feet. Supreme number two wiping his eyes with a handkerchief.

‘I’ll say one thing for you, Kildare, you’re quite sporting. Thank you.’

‘No reason to abandon someone just because his closest colleagues do.’

‘Yes, well thank you again. I won’t, I promise forget it. But God they’re all gone. Leave the ladder. And we had better not stand here on ceremony.’

‘Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire.’

A voice shouting down the halls. Supreme number two running with one hand holding up his trousers. He trips and falls flat on his face just as the lights come on. And promptly go off again as I feel my way along this wall to retrace steps down the tiny narrow staircase. Take deep clean breaths of air. The sound of more running feet echoing. Ahead a bit of light. Move along this corridor. Here’s the archway and landing. Down three steps. Turn right. A door slamming. Shouts of fire now. Everywhere. Just time to get into this dormitory before anyone sees me. And let out my own little shout.

‘Fire. The school is on fire.’

Darcy Dancer as the light switches on. Running down the centre aisle between the grey tubular iron framed beds. Pulling on again his jacket just removed. And all these heads pop up from their pillows. And start to stare with blinking and rubbed eyes.

‘Where. Where.’

With Awfully Stupid, most alert of all sitting up on his elbows. A deep frown on his singularly pasty unattractive face.

‘Kildare, is there really a fire.’

‘Yes.’

‘O my goodness. I must save my chocolate fudge.’

Awfully Stupid jumping out of bed. Rummaging in his locker. As a scream emits further up the dormitory room.

‘Look at that Kildare. What’s happened. The ceiling, the water is pouring down out of the ceiling over there.’

‘By jove, so it is, Kelly. How observant of you.’

‘Look, the plaster’s coming away, it really is pouring. And good lord right down on Pratt’s bed, and he’s still asleep poor sod.’

A master at the entrance of the dormitory in long white night cap. Tightening the belt of his dressing gown. A blanket clutched and pulled over his shoulders. Holding an arm out. Halting the first of the eagerly departing. And shouting down the line of beds.

‘Remember your drill, remember your drill. File out now, in an orderly fashion boys. To the left to the end of the corridor and down the kitchen stairs. Quickly. The school I regret to say is on fire. Leave belongings behind. But no need to panic. In orderly fashion now. Quick march. That’s it. Count you. As you go. Thirteen fourteen fifteen.’

Darcy Dancer, pushing many stockinged feet into his shoes. Painfully squeezing my metacarples into where they won’t fit with all these woolly layers. Awfully Stupid’s eyes bulging. A tin flowered box under his arm.

‘O dear kildare, there really is a fire.’

‘Of course there is, can’t you see everyone is leaving.’

‘I want to stay with you. Why are you putting on all those clothes and things.’

‘Because in the two or so hours it takes to watch the school burn down to the ground, it’s going to be awfully cold outside.’

‘You’re so right, you’re so absolutely right Kildare.’

‘Come on don’t dawdle.’

Darcy Dancer pushing Awfully Stupid in front of him. The master as they approach counting them twenty six and twenty seven.

‘You’re the new boy. That should be all of you. Go quickly now. Catch the others up. Good grief that groaning sound is that the ceiling.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Why it’s about to come down. Good lord it is coming down.’

The master, Darcy Dancer and Awfully Stupid all taking a step backwards. A cat scurrying past in the hall. Clearly everyone’s making a run for it. Lights grow strangely bright. As a great massive span of white dripping plaster, bellied downwards, yawns, creaks and cracks. Breaking and splintering from laths and joists. To plummet on beds, lockers and across the aisle. Thunderously followed by volumes of water pouring down on the rubble. The master putting his hands up to the sides of his face.

‘O my god. We’re ruined. O my god. Go on boys, go on. Out with you.’

A master standing now in front of each little group ranged over the soggy lawn. Lights on in all the school windows. Flames shooting from the roof of the north wing, reddening the smoke ascending into a descending fog. Bell ringing. Boys in pyjamas trembling in the chill. Older boys and members of the Presidium rushing in and out and up and down the front steps. Carrying portraiture. Others lugging chairs. Some unsportingly grinning. A little voice piping up behind one.

‘This is jolly good fun.’

‘Ruddy right but wish the flames would spread faster and keep us warmer.’

Motor car lights coming out along a road. An old man hobbling in big black boots and overcoat and carrying a pail of water towards the entrance. A cheer going up. A master pushing the old gentleman back with his pail. And a boo erupting. Awfully Stupid giving me a blow by blow description as he chews insanely on his cubes of delicious smelling chocolate fudge without offering me one.

‘That’s old Conners, the cricket pitch groundsman, and they won’t let him go in to fight the fire.’

‘He’d hardly get anywhere with merely a bucket of water, Kelly.’

‘Goodness Kildare, I guess you are so absolutely right, he wouldn’t would he. Look. The flames. The slates are falling through and the flames are coming right out. Right over our dormitory nearly reaching our beds.’

‘It’s not very good for the school, is it Kelly.’

‘I should say not Kildare, I should certainly say not. Look the headmaster. He hasn’t combed his hair. Getting up on the steps. lie must be going to make an announcement.’

‘All right attention everybody. Attention now. Cease the idle chatter. Now I want all of you. To listen carefully. There’s a long night ahead of us. And a cold one. Some of you may of course not have seen a school burn down before.’

‘Ha ha.’

‘But I don’t think there is any question but that many of you have not wanted to see one burn down.’

‘Ha ha ha.’

‘Alright cease the laughter. We are presently awaiting the arrival of the town fire brigade. Meanwhile our own school fire apparatus is being employed. We may be able to confine the fire to the north wing. In such case you boys from the north wing will double up. And I want no larking. We will serve a hot drink soon from the kitchens.’

‘Hear hear.’

‘Cease those remarks. All of you are to stay where you are until instructed to do otherwise. And on no account is anyone to re-enter the school. That is all. Except that a full investigation is to be carried out. As to the cause of the fire. I want any of you with any information to come to me and disclose such.’

‘Kildare do you think someone started the fire deliberately.’

‘I’m sure I don’t know Kelly.’

‘Gosh that would be really not nice.’

‘No Kelly it would not be nice at all if someone did set the school alight.’

‘Someone must have done it.’

‘Kelly who is that girl who made my bed.’

‘O she is called Slut. Out of her hearing of course. The Presidium members take turns with her on a mattress they have behind the water tank in the attic. She’s quite kindly you know. She was put up the pole by a big landowner. And was sent to do penance in a convent after she had a baby. The Presidium are always snatching feels of her. And pushing her up the ladder into the attic. She sometimes slaps them. But mostly she giggles. Goodness that’s where the fire is. Right where the Presidium meets. Was that where they were holding your inquisition, Kildare.’

‘O no, we held that quietly in the library.’

A long file of boys moving off. Circling now around the school, heading on the gravel path, for the back kitchen. Sound of a sputtering motor vehicle. Must be the school’s personal fire engine. Lights fading and then brightening as the beams cut through the foggy darkness out across the park land. Its ancient wheels pulling to a stop at the front steps. Part of it painted red. Three men kitted out in long rubber coats unwinding a hose. Running up the wide grey entrance of the school. One carrying an axe. A moment later all coming back out again to say the hose won’t reach. The engine pumping water. Pointing the hose nozzle at the north wing. Driblets coming out as rain begins to fall. A cheer rising from all the assembled pyjama clad sneezing and shivering boys. Seems appropriate at this juncture that one should now just slowly slip away. And ask this stingy Kelly for some of his fudge.

‘Where are you going Kildare.’

‘To relieve myself Kelly. And might I ask you to have a piece of fudge.’

‘Certainly you may. But only a little piece.’

‘Let me have the box so I may choose something suitably small.’

‘Hey where are you going Kildare with my box.’

‘I’ll bring it back. In just a moment. Don’t panic’.

Darcy Dancer crossing over the soft mossy lawn. And further out into the wide wide darkness. Look back at the lines of assembled heads. The fire’s flames licking from the roof top up into the falling rain. Shouts and arguments as staff members assisted by older boys continue to lug out paintings and furniture. Mr Arland’s kind friend in a pair of boots and covered sensibly in a sou’wester. Directing the traffic of objets d’art. Had I hidden under the bed till all were gone from the dormitory, they might think I had perished in the flames. Then in my own living flesh I’d be off now in the world and be entirely somebody else. Except there would have to be a black charred skeleton left. If bones don’t burn. With perhaps only Mr Arland to mourn my departure. And maybe Miss von B too. And Uncle Willie. And now as I vault this stud rail fence. Clutch niggardly Kelly’s box of chocolate fudge tightly. That woman’s face. Staring at me making my bed and serving the soup. Seen her before. Down in the kitchens of Andromeda Park. She was a girl then. During my mother’s life. When the household’s senior members had their own servants to serve them under the big vaulted ceiling of the staff dining room. Closed up now all these years. Remember her on the stairs. And heaving big platters to table. When I sat with Crooks, Norah, Sheila and Kitty. She had then big mounds of glossy black hair. Rosy cheeks and blue eyes. Face all pale and thin now. Her hair all dull and greasy. Climb over this stone wall. The rain coming down in buckets. If it puts out the fire, it will also fatally warp all the school’s antiques. Uncle Willie said to me once. That if ever I should come upon hard times that I should go to him. And instead here I am. On this lake shore. Tripping over the stones. Hear the long beep of a plover. Go around till I can cut again back across fields. O god now I’m trodding in bottoms. Squelch of water. Coming up the sides of my shoes. Feet already wet. Must reach dry land. Over this ditch. Got to jump. Sexton said there may be a little water on top but it can be six feet deep in mud underneath. What’s that. A massive shadow. Moving. Big white curly head. Two horns nicely curving down. On a Hereford bull. Dear God. Although I don’t believe in you, here is an opportunity for you to prove to me you exist. If you will just not let that beast come after me, trapped as I am here on all fours on the edge of this bank.

Darcy Dancer holding his breath. The bull slowly turning to sniff in the shadows. And the welcome sound. Of ripping grass again. The behemoth grazing. And another shadow seems like a heifer nudging beside him. Much better that he jumps on her than he wastes time chasing me. Dead tree leaves thank god, underfoot. Feels like dry land. Bat flitting overhead. A cottage. Just get closer. Creeping up this mound of grass. The white washed wall around this dim lighted window. Peer inside. A table, dresser full of dishes. A pail. May be full of milk. To wash down Kelly’s rather excellent chocolate fudge I borrowed. And chew now at this very moment so gratefully. Like the cottage out in the bog lands. With the bog woman and blind bog man. Dog sleeping in front of the fire. Good lord. There they are. The inhabitants. Kneeling praying. A statue candle lit with its heart burning red. And the dog. Its head rising. Getting up to bark and run. Right at this window. If they catch me a Protestant sneaking around their yard. But they won’t now that I’m running. To get at least five miles away. Briars tearing my jacket. Get through this hedge. Charge up this hill. Right to the top. Feel warm now. The mist shifting. Making faint shadows of trees below. And beyond. Way back there. The red glow in the sky. So many young chaps’ future education going up in smoke. And a handy beacon to keep me straight in my direction. Which is I pray, truly westerly. And just hope I don’t come to a bog. And sink. Down deep in brown blackness.

Be found

Centuries later

Petrified