I had just turned 14 when I saw Miss Stamford being straddled
by Mr Crawford.
I blame Ralph. Well
actually, I partly blame Ralph. In
fairness to him he suggested pilfering a couple of her freshly baked buns after
class. I on the other hand proposed we
take the lot, sell them and use the money for cigarettes. Ralph didn’t smoke, but agreed nonetheless.
So there we were, an hour after lights out, stealthily
sneaking down the corridor to Stamford’s domain. We knew she baked on a
Thursday and that her wares would be handed out in the staff room the following
morning as part of their “thank god it’s Friday” routine.
“George, I need to pee” Ralph whispered to me. Dear god I
thought, any suspicion of the smallest of risks and Ralph’s bladder springs
into life.
“Hold it in, we won’t be long”. I told him.
Crouching down at the classroom door, I glanced in the
darkened room. All the ovens were
flashing the time 23:02, not a soul in sight.
Furtively I twisted the heavy brass knob and with the tiniest of creaks
the door opened. We were in!
We both silently scurried in. Me, impatient to get to the
goods. Ralph, eager to get this over
with and return to the sanctuary of his lower bunk.
Just as I grasped the cupcake extraordinaire, the sound of
muffled voices outside the door stopped me dead in my tracks. What the hell? Poor Ralph, he looked
terrified. To be honest I wasn’t
thrilled at the thought of Stamford catching me with a handful of her buns!
Grabbing Ralph “Quick, behind here” I whispered, nodding at
the baking station at the back of the room.
Together we scampered behind the confines of the station, me holding the
buns, Ralph holding his crotch.
The familiar creak of the heavy door made us both hold our
breath. The door closed and we both heard
Stamford’s muffled laugh, and then, another set of footsteps. She wasn’t
alone. I looked at Ralph, he looked at
me. We were both curious. Slowly we
raised our knees and diligently glanced over the steel hob. She wasn’t alone, I couldn’t believe it, sour
faced Stamford, hand in hand with crusty Crawford. I held back the belly laugh, threatening to
explode at any moment and clutched Ralph’s shoulder for support.
Ralph, looked at me.
You know the look? Uncomfortable.
Wanting to be anywhere than where he was right at that moment and I saw the
accusation in his eyes. “This is all
your fault George”, he hissed at me. I
shrugged.
And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse Crawford
lifted the ample proportioned Stamford onto the work station right at the front
of the class. I mean, I couldn’t believe it. She harps on day in day out about
cleanliness and there she is, large as life with her buttocks pressing down
where pastry is prepared. Talk about
double standards.
Just as Crawford climbed up and straddled Stamford, Ralph let
out an almighty moan and emptied his bladder all over his feet, my feet and the
blasted buns.
I never saw Ralph again, which was a shame, he was a good
friend to me, he lost his scholarship and never returned. Stamford took a leave
of absence and hasn’t been seen since.
As for me, well father was called in, made a hefty donation
to the school charity and all I got was a 4 week detention, every night, Monday
- Friday with no other than the headmaster, crusty Crawford.
Hayley Mars
