Ahead of his Time by Adrian Cousins (children's books read aloud .txt) 📕

would always be able to spot the loners or misfits who sat by themselves regardless of how poor the weather was, just so they could avoid all other students and the teasing or bullying that came with the territory.

In my early years as a pupil here, I could undoubtedly resonate with those students. Even when the weather was shite, I could be found sitting on those benches on my own, or sometimes with Beth.

Jayne rattled on with her story and then moved onto a different subject as I drifted off thinking about Beth and our conversations whilst sitting on those benches, shivering in the cold but determined not to go back into the main hall. I guess I had Beth to thank for my growing confidence in the latter years at school. The toughness she developed from living in Lexton house, she managed to install in me, thus dragging me from the pit of wallow after losing my parents. School break times were a form of natural selection. The strong survived, and the weak shrunk to the dark corners to hide.

“Jason … Jason, did you hear me?” Jayne asked, as she leant forward and tapped my knee.

I jumped, which caused a large blob of ash to drop onto my regulation leather-patched-elbow jacket. “Sorry, Jayne, I was miles away. What were you saying?”

She shifted forward in her seat, adjusting her skirt hem over her knees with one hand whilst pointing out the window with the other. She waved her long brown More cigarette, which she expertly held between her fore and index fingers. “I was just saying that you didn't say how you knew Martin. He does seem to attract a lot of female attention,” she said, as I followed to where her finger was pointing.

“He’s an old frie—nd,” I slowly replied, as I looked to where Martin was leaning up against one of the wooden benches. Five senior girls were swarmed around him. He appeared to be telling a story with great animation as his hands shot in all directions and the girls hung on his every word. They were giggling, playing with their hair and gazing at him as if he was some Greek Adonis. Concerningly, one of the five was his mother.

“Jason … Jason, are you alright?” Jayne asked, as she turned her head to look at me. I was transfixed on the view of Martin and his femmes’ fatale.

“Yes, sorry, Jayne. I used to work with him some years ago. He’s a reliable chap,” I replied without looking at her.

“Oh, okay. As I said, he does seem to have the senior girls’ undivided attention. And to be quite frank, I find him a little odd. I don’t think it’s right he attracts the attention of those girls.”

“No … I agree.”

“You’re sure he’s okay and not one of those pervert men?”

“Ha, no. He’s no Jimmy Savile.”

“Oh, I don’t know what you mean. We like Jimmy Savile and always watch ‘Jim’ll Fix it’ on a Saturday night.

I turned to face her, momentarily taking my eyes off Martin. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“You’re away with the fairies today. I said I don’t know what you mean about Jimmy Savile.”

“Oh … err … nothing.” Stubbing out my cigarette and keen to distance myself from this conversation about Mr Savile, I sprang out of my chair and headed outside to break up Martin’s love-nest.

“Very odd,” I heard Jayne reply, but I was already halfway across the staff room.

Whizzing along the corridors, skilfully negotiating the chicanes of students who were milling about, I quickly made it to the foyer and the stone steps which led down to the central courtyard. As I hopped down the steps, the five girls were all walking back to the main entrance. Glancing up to the bench where Martin had been holding court, he’d disappeared and the girls were excitingly chatting as they passed me.

“Ohhhhh God, he’s gorgeous. He looks just like Woody!” blurted Sarah, as she clutched her hands to her chest.

I presumed she meant Woody from the Bay City Rollers, not the cowboy doll from one of the twentieth century’s greatest animated films. The girls were oblivious to my existence as I stood on the bottom stone stair, with my mouth gaping open and gormlessly staring at nothing. In fact, if you stuck a cowboy hat on my head, I think I had that shocked appearance which Woody donned when Buzz Lightyear first arrived.

This was a ‘Back to the Future’ dilemma. Marty had this very same problem and solved it by ensuring his teenage mother fell for his teenage father at the school dance. I didn’t have the luxury of a Hollywood storyline, and Martin’s father was a rapist, so that wasn’t going to work. This was a serious problem, and I’d have to sort Martin out as he’d failed to follow my explicit instruction not to talk to his mother.

29

Frenchie

My five mobile-phone-free months had, for the most part, felt like a release of the shackles of that tracking device that was permanently in your pocket. On balance, I definitely didn’t miss that all-consuming gadget that informed the world of your whereabouts at every precise moment, nor its magnetic ability to compulsively make you keep looking at it. However, after unsuccessfully searching the whole school and grounds for Martin, I wanted to scream and just pluck out my phone and ring him.

After conducting my first lesson of the afternoon, I had some free time. Although Roy had a pile of jobs for me, I set about on my search for Martin and located him back in the school office chatting to Miss Colman.

“Oh, Martin, thank you so much. I really do appreciate it as I know you must be so busy.” Miss Colman stood holding the small wooden step ladder as Martin expertly wielded his screw-driver, fixing a bracket to the top of the pigeon-hole unit.

“No problem, Trish. I’ll have this all fixed up for you real soon, lol.”

Miss Colman patted her hair-bun