Sunday Best by Bernice Rubens Read Free Book Online Page A

coughed and composed his face with a seriousness that indicated he was coming straight to the point. ‘You will have noticed,’ he said, ‘that Mr Parsons is absent from school. You especially, Mr Verrey Smith,’ he offered with a sick smile, ‘would have noticed his absence, since the bulk of his work has fallen and will continue to fall on your shoulders.’
    His use of the future tense heartened me a little, and I returned a smile that was a mere arrangement of my features, rather than an expression of goodwill.
    â€˜You will have been told that Mr Parsons has the ’flu,’ the Reverend went on, ‘but I am bound to tell you that Mr Parsons,in body at least, is perfectly well, but that I have found it necessary to suspend him from his duties until an inquiry is complete.’ He left a pause for anyone imprudent enough to ask why, but we all knew better than to question his authority. The answer would surely be forthcoming. As for myself, I trembled less, tho’ I still did not feel absolutely in the clear.
    â€˜I have called this extraordinary meeting,’ he went on, ‘because it has come to my notice that Mr Parsons has been indulging in perverse practices on the school premises.’
    My body slackened, and I slumped in my chair, overcome by a mounting fit of giggling that I could not control. The relief that I felt at my acquittal was finding its full expression. And while rocking to and fro with my convulsions, I desperately sought some excuse that would account for my hysteria. Mr Gardiner eyed me with horror. Whatever the cause of my outburst, it was certainly no symptom of pneumonia. Most of the staff shifted with their disgust, and a few of the more generous amongst them thought I was simply mad, and I wondered whether I should offer to the Cloth a plea of temporary insanity. By now, I was laughing aloud. Bless you, Mr Parsons, I said to myself, you poor little bugger, but bless you and your buggery for putting me in the clear.
    â€˜I fail to see what is so funny, Mr Verrey Smith. Perhaps you would care to explain yourself. This is a very serious matter.’
    I took him up on it, feebly inspired. ‘It is because it is a serious, and, I may add, a tragic matter, that I laugh, in the same way that I laugh when told of someone’s death. My laughter is close to tears, Headmaster.’ It was a game try, and I think it convinced nobody. But then nobody could call me a liar, and I was by then able to control my hysterical relief and to assume a serious air. The headmaster decided to be satisfied, and to drop the subject since he had no notion of how to handle it.
    â€˜If I could have your attention,’ he went on, ‘I would like to tell you how the matter came to my notice, to outline the events, so that you will all have a true picture. A situation like this one is open to all kinds of rumour, and I want you to shut your ears to it, and to remember only the facts that I shall give you. The decision as to what to do with Mr Parsons is mine and mine alone, but as his colleagues, you are entitled to be aware of the facts that make any decision on my part necessary.’
    That, in a nutshell, was our headmaster’s version of democracy. He often referred to his ‘game little band’ of staff, and dropped us tit-bits of confidential matter, professing an interest in our opinion, but determined to ignore it. He had already made his decision. Of that there was no doubt. Mr Parsons would get the push, and the Reverend, who was a vindictive man, would make jolly sure that poor old Parsons wouldn’t get another job. It struck me that Parsons was a very unfortunate name to be saddled with such an offence and I wondered whether our chief was taking it as a personal affront to his own collar. Poor old Parsons. Apart from my own personal indebtedness to him, I felt wholly on his side, and I was determined that, whatever the consequences, I would