Tofu looked at Olive, who stared back at him defiantly, as would one who had science on her side. “Oh yes?” he said. “And can you get it from the spit of somebody who’s got it?”
“Of course,” said Olive. “That’s an easy way to get it.”
Tofu smiled at Bertie, and then turned back to face Olive.
“In that case,” he said, “you’ve got it too!”
And with that, he spat at her.
Olive screamed. It was an extremely loud scream, high and painful on the ear, and although there was a certain amount of background noise in the playground, it carried.
Inside the building, Miss Harmony, who was enjoying a cup of tea in the staff room, leapt to her feet and looked out of the window before she hurried out to deal with the emergency.
“Olive!” she cried, as she ran towards the screaming girl.
“What on earth’s wrong?”
Olive opened her eyes. “These boys spat at me, Miss Harmony,”
she said. “I was just talking to them and they spat at me.”
Miss Harmony sighed. Her task in life was every bit as difficult, she thought, as that taken on by the late Dr Livingstone.
78. Question Time for the Boys – and for Olive Inside the classroom, while the rest of the class busied itself with an arithmetical exercise, Miss Harmony took Tofu and Bertie to one side.
262 Question Time for the Boys – and for Olive
“Now, I don’t think I really need to say how disappointed I am,” the teacher began. “Spitting at somebody is not only a very unkind thing to do, it’s also very insanitary. You know that, don’t you? Both of you know that you should never spit at another person.”
“I didn’t,” said Tofu. “She’s lying, Miss Harmony. Olive tells lies all the time. Everybody knows that.”
Bertie drew in his breath. Tofu was telling a bare-faced lie now, and he marvelled at his ability to do so. Surely Miss Harmony would know that he was lying or, worse than that, she might ask Bertie if it were true. That worried Bertie: it was one thing for Tofu to lie to Miss Harmony, quite another for him to do the same thing. In fact, he would never be able to do it.
“Now, Tofu,” said Miss Harmony. “Why would Olive tell me that you boys had spat at her if you hadn’t? And, anyway, I noticed that there was something on her face.”
“That was slime,” said Tofu. “That had nothing to do with me.”
Miss Harmony turned to Bertie. “Now, Bertie,” she said.
“You’re a truthful boy, aren’t you? You tell me: did you spit at Olive?”
Bertie thought for a moment. He could answer this question quite truthfully. He had not spat at Olive, and he could tell Miss Harmony that. “No,” he said, with some indignation. “I didn’t spit at her, Miss Harmony. Cross my heart, I didn’t.”
“And Tofu, then?” asked the teacher. “Can you tell me, Bertie, did Tofu spit at Olive?”
Bertie looked at Tofu. The other boy had been looking away, but now he shot a glance at Bertie and made a quick throat-slitting gesture with his hand. He did it quickly, but not quickly enough for Miss Harmony not to notice it.
“I see,” said the teacher. “Ignore that, please, Bertie. Tofu has just confirmed his guilt.”
Tofu flushed. “It was her fault, Miss Harmony,” he protested.
“She told Bertie that he had leprosy.”
Miss Harmony frowned. “Bertie, did Olive tell you that?”
Question Time for the Boys – and for Olive 263
Bertie nodded miserably. “Yes, Miss Harmony. She took some blood of mine, you see, and did some tests.”
“Blood!” exclaimed Miss Harmony. “Are you making this up, Bertie?”
Bertie shook his head and began to explain to Miss Harmony about what had happened. He told her of Olive’s visit to Scotland Street and of the junior nurse’s set. When he came to tell her of the syringe and the taking of the blood sample, Miss Harmony winced and shook her head in disbelief.
“She actually put the needle in, Bertie?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Bertie. “Then she told me that she had done some tests and that I had leprosy. That’s when Tofu came and . . .”
“Well, we can pass over that,” said Miss Harmony hurriedly, adding, “in the circumstances. But first of all, Bertie, let me assure you: you do not have leprosy. You positively don’t.”
Bertie felt a great weight of anxiety lift off him. Instinctively, he felt his nose again: it seemed more firmly anchored than ever.
“So,” went on Miss Harmony, “you should now forget all about that. Olive had no right to do any of that, and even if we cannot condone spitting . . .” and here she looked at Tofu, “there are some occasions in which a blind eye might properly be turned.
And so I want you two boys to go and sit down and not to think anymore about all this. No more nonsense about leprosy! And no more spitting either!”
From the other side of the classroom, Olive had been watching this carefully. Now she saw the two boys sitting down in their seats and she noticed, somewhat to her alarm, that they were smiling. And now, even more to her alarm, she saw Miss Harmony beckoning her over to her desk.
“Yes, Miss Harmony?” said Olive as she approached the teacher.
“Olive,” said Miss Harmony. “I want a straight answer. No ifs, no buts. Just a straight answer. Did you take a blood sample from Bertie?”
264 Question Time for the Boys – and for Olive Olive looked down at the floor. “Maybe,” she said. And then she added, “I was only trying to help him, Miss Harmony.”
Miss Harmony expelled breath from between her teeth. To Olive, it sounded alarmingly like a hiss.
“You silly, silly little girl,” said the teacher. “Do you realise how dangerous it is to stick a needle into somebody? Do you realise that?”
Olive did not have time to answer before Miss Harmony continued. “And then you went and told him that he had leprosy!
Of all the stupid, unkind things to do, that takes some beating.
Do you even begin to understand how silly that is?”
Olive looked up at her teacher. She knew that her position was very difficult, but it was not in her nature to give up without a fight. “Please don’t destroy my confidence, Miss Harmony,”
she said.
“What did you say?” hissed Miss Harmony. “Destroy your what?”
“My confidence,” said Olive.
It was at this point that Miss Harmony felt her self-control evaporating. She was a graduate of Moray House, the benefi-ciary of a fine training in the Scots pedagogical tradition. She knew all the theory of how to maintain control in the classroom; she knew all the theory about reinforcing positive behaviour.
She also knew that one should never use violence against children, no matter what the temptation. Yet here, faced with this infinitely irritating child, she felt an almost irresistible urge to do something physical.
She tried to collect her thoughts. “Olive,” she said, “do you know the test that people used to see if somebody had leprosy?
They would pinch them on the ear to see if they felt pain.
The poor people with leprosy didn’t, you see. Look, I’ll show you.”
She leaned forward and took Olive’s right earlobe between her thumb and forefinger. “There,” she said. “That’s what they did.”
A Confusion of Daddies at the Dinner Table 265
She pinched extremely hard, and Olive gave a yelp of pain.
“Good,” said Miss Harmony. “So you haven’t got leprosy.
That’s a relief, isn’t it?”
As Olive made her way back to her desk, Miss Harmony looked out of the window. She knew that the eyes of all the children were on her; they had heard Olive’s yelp; they had seen what had happened. Yes, thought Miss Harmony. I have just abandoned everything I was ever taught, but, oh my goodness, it was satisfying!