Wilt on High by Tom Sharpe Read Free Book Online Page B

what the junkies do,’ said the V-P. ‘They inject themselves and then –’
    ‘I don’t want to know,’ said the Principal.
    ‘Well, if she was taking heroin –’
    ‘Heroin! That’s all we need,’ said the Principal, and sat down miserably.
    ‘If you ask me,’ said Miss Hare, ‘the whole thing’s a fabrication. I was in there ten minutes …’
    ‘Doing what?’ asked Wilt. ‘Apart from attacking me.’
    ‘Something feminine, if you must know.’
    ‘Like taking steroids. Well, let me tell you that when I went down there and I wasn’t there more than …’
    It was Mrs Bristol’s turn to intervene. ‘Down, did you say down?’
    ‘Of course I said down. What did you expect me to say? Up?’
    ‘But the toilet’s on the fourth floor, not the second. That’s where she was.’
    ‘Now you tell us. And where the hell do you think I went?’
    ‘But I always go upstairs,’ said Mrs Bristol. ‘It keeps me in trim. You know that. I mean one’s got to get some exercise and …’
    ‘Oh, belt up,’ said Wilt, and dabbed his nose with a bloodstained handkerchief.
    ‘Right, let’s get this straight,’ said the Principal, deciding it was time to exercise some authority. ‘Mrs Bristol tells Wilt here there is a girl upstairs injecting herself with something or other and instead of going upstairs, Wilt goes down to the toilet on the second floor and …’
    ‘Gets beaten to a pulp by Ms Blackbelt Burke here,’ said Wilt who was beginning to regain the initiative. ‘And I don’t suppose it’s occurred to anyone to go up and see if that junkie’s still there.’
    But the Vice-Principal had already left.
    ‘If that little turd calls me Burke again …’ said Miss Hare menacingly. ‘Anyway, I still think we should call the police. I mean, why did Wilt go downstairs instead of up? I find that peculiar.’
    ‘Because I don’t use the Ladies’ or, in your case, the Bisexual Toilets, that’s why.’
    ‘Oh for God’s sake,’ said the Principal, ‘there’s obviously been some mistake and if we all keep calm …’
    The Vice-Principal returned. ‘No sign of her,’ he said.
    The Principal got to his feet. ‘Well, that’s that. Evidently there’s been some mistake. Mrs Bristol may have imagined …’ But any aspersions on Mrs Bristol’s imagination he was about to make were stopped by the V-P’s next words.
    ‘But I did find this in the trash can,’ he said, and produced a blood-stained lump of paper towel, which looked like Wilt’s handkerchief.
    The Principal regarded it with disgust. ‘That hardly proves anything. Women do bleed occasionally.’
    ‘Call it a jamrag and be done with it,’ said Wilt viciously. He was getting fed up with bleeding himself. Miss Hare turned on him.
    ‘That’s typical, you foulmouthed sexist,’ she snapped.
    ‘I was merely interpreting what the Principal was …’
    ‘And more conclusively, this,’ interrupted the V-P, this time producing a hypodermic needle.
    It was Mrs Bristol’s turn to bridle. ‘There, what did I tell you. I wasn’t imagining anything. There was a girl up there injecting herself and I did see her. Now what are you going to do?’
    ‘Now we mustn’t jump to conclusions just because …’ the Principal began.
    ‘Call the police. I demand that you call the police,’ said Miss Hare, determined to take this opportunity for airing her opinions about Wilt and Peeping Toms as widely as possible.
    ‘Miss Burke,’ said the Principal, flustered into sharingWilt’s feelings about the PE lecturer, ‘this is a matter that needs cool heads.’
    ‘Miss Hare’s my name and if you haven’t the decency … And where do you think you’re going?’
    Wilt had taken the opportunity to sidle to the door. ‘To the men’s toilet to assess the damage you did, then the Blood Transfusion Unit for a refill and after that, if I can make it, to my doctor and the most litigious lawyer I can find to sue you for assault and battery.’ And before