The Crimes and Punishments of Miss Payne by Barry Jonsberg Read Free Book Online Page B

corner, like a shaggy tank, appeared Slasher, followed in quick succession by the vast bulk of the Pitbull. My tongue spot-welded itself to the roof of my mouth and my legs turned to cottage cheese.
    What the hell was I going to do now? For one wild moment, I thought that maybe she had gone the wrong way and was simply retracing her steps to pass the house and go in the opposite direction. Yeah, right! The streetlights etched her face in sharp relief and I shuddered. She was coming back. God knows why, but it looked like walkies was finished for today. What was it Kiffo had said? An hour and a half. You could set your watch by it. What an idiot!
    The Pitbull was bearing down on me and I couldn't think of anything to do. I tried whispering “Kiffo” really quietlyuntil I caught myself. We were in enough trouble with just one idiot around. Why hadn't we brought mobile phones? The fact that I didn't have one and neither did Kiffo was possibly one reason, but I was still faced with the problem of contacting him. And quickly. I had visions of the Pitbull opening her front door and finding Kiffo peeing on her pet cockatoo or something. Think, Harrison. Think.
    There was only one thing for it. As the Pitbull approached the front gate, as she was reaching into her pocket and extracting her house keys, I rushed across the road.
    “Miss Payne!” I yelled at the top of my voice. “Fancy seeing you here!”
    Slasher and the Pitbull both turned to face me, and I have to admit that I quailed. One of them growled but I'm not sure which. I tried a bright happy smile, like I was meeting my best friend, but it felt as if my face was molded from durable resin. Miss Payne's lip curled as she looked me up and down. Her expression was the same, I imagined, as if she had stood in something Slasher might have done on the pavement.
    “Miss Harrison,” she said. “This is an unexpected pleasure. Goodbye.”
    She turned to go.
    “Wait!” I yelled. “Please don't go. I… I wanted to talk to you.”
    The Pitbull looked at me.
    “Oh, yes,” she said. “And what do you think we might have to talk about at this time on a Friday evening?”
    I searched my brain.
    “The homework. The English homework. I wanted to ask for your help. I remembered what you said about my attitude, Miss Payne, and I just wanted to show you that I was making an effort with it. My attitude, I mean. And the homework, of course.”
    “I haven't set any homework, Miss Harrison.”
    Crap!
    “Exactly, Miss Payne. I wanted some homework and I knew you hadn't set any, not that I'm criticizing or anything, I mean you must have your reasons for not setting homework, all that experience with teaching, I can tell you know exactly what you are doing, and so no homework is probably part of the big plan, something that is good for us, I mean, so I don't want you to think that by asking for homework I'm being insubordinate or anything ‘cause that is certainly not my intention, Miss Payne, good heavens, no.” I roared with laughter, shrieking at the top of my voice. Get the hell out of there, Kiffo! “It's just that I love English, Miss Payne, and you make it so interesting that I felt it would be good, for me, I mean, to do some extra, it being Friday night and all and there being nothing I like better on a Friday than doing English homework, so I thought I'd ask you for some, homework, that is, and that's the help I referred to earlier.”
    Miss Payne leaned forward so her face was within an inch of mine. Her breath smelled like a sumo wrestler's jockstrap.
    “Miss Harrison, unless you go away now, I will call the police. Do I make myself plain?”
    I was tempted to reply that something had indeed made her plain, and that I, personally, was inclined to blame her parents. Fortunately, I resisted the temptation.
    “Well, to be honest, Miss,” I said, “I'm not altogether clear on that point. When you say ‘the police,’ do you mean the regular… well,
police
, I suppose?