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as she smoothed down any stray hairs which had escaped during her exertions of holding the step ladder whilst gazing up at Magnet-Martin. As Miss Colman turned, she saw me standing there and glanced away, coughed, and stared down at the floor. She was clearly highly embarrassed that I’d caught her swooning over Martin with the use of first names flowing freely between them.

“Mr Bretton, when you’ve finished screwing Miss Colman, I need a word.” Martin turned and burst in to laughter. Miss Colman stood open-mouthed, so shocked she was struck dumb, which was a rare occurrence.

“Oh bollocks, sorry you know what I mean … when you’ve finished putting that screw in Miss Colman … for Miss Colman … or whatever you're doing.” I waved my arms about, trying to play down what I’d said and desperately trying not to look embarrassed. Miss Colman was frozen in time as if she’d been turned to stone by Medusa.

Martin grinned, and I could see he was enjoying the spectacle of my embarrassment. He hopped off the ladder and tapped Miss Colman on the arm as if to break the Medusa spell. “Trish, don’t worry. Jason can be a bit of a dick sometimes.” He turned to face me and grinned again.

I now seemed to have been struck by Medusa, as I was stunned at what Martin had said. My fear Martin wouldn’t fit into the school life of the late ’70s was becoming very real. I accept it’s not easy fitting into an era forty years in the past, but Martin seemed to make no effort or think about his words or actions.

Roy broke the spell as he opened his office door. His head popped out as he leant against the door frame. “Mr Apsley, do you have a moment?”

With that stern flustered look across his face, I knew it meant further problems were about to heap upon me.

“Mr Bretton, don’t go anywhere. I need to talk to you,” I said, as I entered Roy’s office, without looking at either Martin or Miss Colman. Closing the door, I stood whilst Roy stared out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Jason, this Martin chap. Did you sell him your Cortina?”

“Err, yes, sort of. Well, yes, that was my old car.”

“Yes, I thought so,” he replied, without turning around.

“Is there a problem, Roy?”

“Well, I don’t know. But there’s a chap sitting on the bonnet of Martin’s car, and I don’t know why he’s on school grounds.”

I marched over to join Roy at the window.

“He looks familiar, but I can't place him,” he added, as I peered out to see who he was looking at.

Half perched on the bright yellow Cortina’s offside front wing and facing the opposite direction was a chap wearing a brown leather jacket. We both just stared for a few seconds, neither of us adding to the conversation.

“D’you think he’s one of Martin’s friends? I think you better have a word with Martin. Remind him that school property is private grounds, and he needs to ensure any acquaintances wait outside the school gates for him.” Roy turned to face me, arching his eyebrow that changed what he’d said from a statement to a question.

“Yes, of course, Roy.” I was now confused as I believed Martin had no friends. Well, maybe Mandy, whom I’d the pleasure of meeting last night. But this person sitting astride Martin’s car was not female and had clothes on, so it couldn’t be her. I was about to turn around when the man sitting on the car wing turned and faced the school entrance as he checked his watch. A cold shiver sprinted down my spine as I was transfixed to the spot. Medusa had got me again.

“Jason?”

“Jason, are you alright, old chap? The colour has drained from your face.”

I continued to gawp through the window. Although the windows were only thirty or so feet from Martin’s car, the man sitting on it wouldn’t be able to see me particularly well due to the window being leaded glass; the original windows when the school was built. However, I could clearly see Paul Colney sitting on Martin’s car wing – my old Cortina.

Roy grabbed my arm as he looked at me, breaking the Medusa spell. “Jason, I said, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Roy, leave it with me. I’ll sort this out.” I turned and exited his office. Miss Colman had reunited herself with her typewriter as she hammered the keys whilst glancing to her left at the note pad on the desk. Martin sat slouched on one of the high-backed wooden chairs near the door. His head leant back, staring at the ceiling, with his legs outstretched and arms folded.

I yanked open the office door and turned to Martin, gesturing with my head. “We need to go.”

Martin jumped up and winked at Miss Colman. “He’s so bossy!”

Martin followed me out to the main foyer. I grabbed his arm and manhandled him to the stairwell corner.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Martin threw back, as he glared at my hand, which I had tightly gripped around his elbow.

I chose to ignore his inability to fit into this ’70’s life and the misunderstanding of his position at the school as I needed to focus on our immediate problem.

“Martin, shut up! We have a real problem.”

He looked up at me as I kept hold of his arm, pinning him in place.

“After we spoke about the Colneys in the pub on Monday, and I said you can’t do anything … what have you done?”

Martin frowned. “Nothing. You said do nothing in your usual bossy way. So, for the moment, I’ve done nothing.”

“You must have! Because Paul Colney is sitting on the bonnet of your bloody car,” I hissed and pointed behind me to the main car park.

Martin’s eyes bulged. “Jason, I’ve done nothing. But now he’s here, I’m going to deal with him,” he said, as he shrugged from my grip and pushed past me.

I

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