Thompson’s Lost Plimsole

Part 55

The stated time and date for the open day at the school had arrived. The previous day had seen a flurry of activity in the kitchen, where cakes had been baked, along with biscuits, buns and a number of cream topped trifles. As parents arrived, they were greeted by the smiling faces of Mr and Mrs Wormwood. David had been given a five pound note to spend in town and had been ordered to stay away until the evening. The last thing that Mr Wormwood wanted, was for his wife’s brother to be lolloping around school frightening the parents.  A number of bottles of port, sherry and vintage wines had been retrieved from the school wine cellar and Mrs Wilde had also been busy creating vol-au-vents with various fillings, and other small, tasty titbits, to help soften up the parents.

Senior boys had been seconded to act as waiters and also as guides. Various gymnastic displays had been organised as had a cricket match between the masters and boys. Mr Murphy, the games master, stripped down to his vest and shorts, gave a display of his muscular physique to an attentive group of young mothers whilst the school scout troop engaged a number of the fathers in a demonstration of their campcraft skills. The Wormwoods could not have been more genial hosts. After a hearty luncheon accompanied by several rousing and patriotic songs from the school choir, their appetites sated and any concerns regarding the welfare of their offspring abated, the parents retired to their vehicles, but only after giving their sons a motherly hug or a firm but fatherly handshake, safe in the knowledge that their children were receiving the proper care and attention equal to the fees that were being paid.  As soon as the final car disappeared from view, the mood changed. Any leftover food was returned to the kitchen store and all un-imbibed spirits were recorked and locked away. The boys would, of course, receive the same bland fare as usual for their evening meal and there was still the matter of the complainants to be dealt with. In the privacy of his office, Mr Wormwood gave each of these boys six of the best, three on each hand. David, having spent the best part of the day away from the school, also now had some bullying to catch up on. Thompson could only look on as this oaf went about his self-imposed duties, tripping up the small boys, twisting their ears, catching them in a headlock and generally tormenting them. The business with the powder in the cake had only caused the greedy Mrs Wormwood a few days of discomfort, so a larger dose would be needed, and tonight would be a good night, due the amount of rich pickings leftover from the open day.  Thompson waited until lights out and then quickly climbed down from his dorm window; however, unlike the last occasion, this time he was being watched.

Due to the sudden passing of the rehearsal pianist, Miss Rosemary Clench, the services of Mr McQueen had been called upon. This was to be a reasonably static production for the chorus. There would, however, be some Japanese fan based choreography, some gesticulating of hands and arms and a fair bit of deferential bowing, which pleased Arnold Blanch. Arnold wasn’t built for dancing. Eating, yes, but not cavorting around the stage, especially on a full stomach, a state that Arnold liked to maintain. Dancing held no such fears for Douglas Gilbert, as any opportunity to take a young woman in his arms was one not to be missed. Offstage, there were very few occasions where it was fitting to be allowed to be so intimate with a person of the female persuasion. Douglas already had his eye on a young woman who had joined the society for the first time. Apparently, she worked as a clerical assistant for the County Council, an attractive blonde girl called Petunia Harbottle.

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