Friday Barnes 3 (9 page)

When Friday and Melanie returned to their dorm room, they found the door unlocked.

‘Someone's broken in,' whispered Friday.

‘Again?' said Melanie. ‘Should we go in and find out who it is?'

‘It might be a dangerous psychopath,' said Friday.

‘Who at this school is a dangerous psychopath?' asked Melanie.

‘Half the student body,' said Friday. ‘And all the teachers in the maths department.'

‘I suppose,' agreed Melanie. ‘Well, we could stay out here but the dangerous psychopath is bound to find us eventually, so we might as well go in and get it over with.'

‘All right,' said Friday. ‘But stay behind me. If he's violent, I'll try reasoning with him while you run to fetch help.'

‘I'd rather run to the dining room and have another jam tart,' said Melanie. ‘They were very good tonight.'

Friday pushed open the door to the room. ‘Who's in there?' she called.

‘It's only me.'

Friday stuck her head around the door. ‘Binky?!'

Melanie's older brother Binky was sitting on her bed. He was perched on the corner, because he was self-conscious that he was a large boy and he didn't want to rumple or break anything accidentally.

‘Why did you break into our room?' Friday asked.

‘I didn't,' he said, shocked at the suggestion. ‘The door was wide open when I arrived.'

‘That's probably my fault,' said Melanie. ‘Closing things isn't my strong suit. That's why I try to always leave the room with you. I know you'll close the door
behind you. But if I'm on my own, the responsibility is too much.'

‘What are you doing here?' asked Friday. ‘Have you just come to visit Melanie?'

‘No,' said Binky earnestly. ‘I need help.'

‘You're not in a fight again, are you?' asked Friday.

‘Gosh, no,' said Binky, shaking his head. ‘Something much worse.'

‘What?' asked Melanie.

Binky leaned forward and whispered, ‘I've fallen in love.'

‘Oh dear,' said Melanie.

‘I know,' said Binky, nodding his head in agreement.

‘Know what?' asked Friday.

‘Binky isn't very good at that type of thing,' explained Melanie. ‘You know, expressing himself and talking to girls.'

‘He talks to me,' said Friday.

‘Yes, but I don't think of you as a girl,' said Binky.

‘Why not?' asked Friday.

‘I think of you as more as a figure of authority who rescues me when I've got myself in a terrible bother,' said Binky truthfully.

‘Well, that is nice,' said Friday. ‘But you could think of me as a girl as well.'

‘I suppose,' said Binky. His brow wrinkled as he thought about it. ‘But it's not entirely my fault. You're the one who chooses to wear those cardigans.'

‘So who are you in love with?' asked Melanie.

‘I don't know her name,' said Binky.

‘Why not?' asked Friday.

‘Haven't had the courage to ask her,' said Binky seriously. ‘She's too beautiful for just a run-of-the-mill sort of conversation. I'd have to think of something charming to say, and that could take hours.'

‘So where have you seen her?' asked Melanie.

‘Here,' said Binky.

‘In our room?' asked Friday.

‘She's your neighbour,' said Binky.

‘Ah, the princess,' said Friday. ‘Everyone seems to be falling in love with her.'

‘No, not that one,' said Binky, shaking his head. ‘She's not to my taste at all. She's too pretty and … princessy.'

‘I didn't know you had a type, Binky,' said Melanie.

‘I do,' said Binky.

‘So what does your love interest look like?' asked Friday.

‘She's radiant,' said Binky. His eyes glazed over as he imagined her. ‘She's petite, has shiny brownish hair and has lips the colour of, well … lips.'

‘So, in other words, she's short, has clean hair and normal-coloured lips,' said Friday.

‘Yes, that's her,' said Binky happily. ‘And she has the warmest heart.'

‘How do you know if you've never spoken to her?' asked Melanie.

‘Because she never says anything,' said Binky. ‘She just glows through her eyes. At least, I think she does. It's hard to tell because she wears rather thick glasses.'

‘You've fallen in love with Debbie!' exclaimed Friday.

‘I have?!' said Binky. ‘Jolly good. I knew I was doing the right thing to come here. You always help me out.'

‘Why don't you just knock on the door and say hello?' said Friday.

‘Are you out of your mind?!' said Binky. He looked horrified by the suggestion. ‘What would that lead to?'

‘A conversation,' said Friday.

‘Well, that's not a good idea then, is it?' said Binky. ‘Hardly my strength.'

‘He's got a point,' agreed Melanie.

‘Then what's your plan?' asked Friday.

‘I was thinking of impressing her by going in the Potato Dash,' said Binky.

‘What's that?' asked Friday.

‘Once a year they hold a race around the quadrangle,' said Melanie. ‘Runners have to sprint through the corridors of the buildings that make the four sides of the quadrangle, then be the first to touch the flagpole in the centre, all while carrying a twenty-kilo sack of potatoes.'

‘It's a great honour to win,' said Binky.

‘The Vice Principal won it when he was a student here,' said Melanie.

‘Really?!' exclaimed Friday.

‘There was a bout of chicken pox that year,' explained Melanie. ‘He was the only entry.'

‘There is one flaw in your plan,' said Friday.

‘Only one?' said Binky in surprise. ‘What is it?'

‘You're very slow,' said Friday.

‘That's a bit harsh,' said Binky, taken aback. ‘I know my score on the IQ test was on the low side, but I try my best.'

‘I don't mean your brain,' said Friday.

‘Although, it is,' added Melanie.

‘I mean, you aren't very fast at running, are you?' said Friday.

‘No, you do have a point there,' agreed Binky frankly. ‘But you might have noticed that I'm a big chap. Obviously tall. But also, under these clothes –'

‘Please don't be disgusting, Binky,' said Melanie.

‘I've got a lot of muscles,' said Binky. ‘The rugby master has had me lifting weights. I can bench press a lot of those heavy disc things they put on the barbell. I thought if I kitted up in running shorts and a singlet, I might cut an impressive sight. Catch the eye, if you know what I mean.'

Friday shook her head to try and rid herself of the mental image of Binky in skimpy clothes. ‘I think I get the gist of it.'

‘So what do you need from us?' asked Melanie.

‘I wanted to talk it through with you,' said Binky. ‘Find out what you thought of it as an idea.'

‘It sounds like a terrible idea,' said Friday. ‘But that doesn't mean it won't work.'

‘What's that smell?' asked Melanie.

Friday and Melanie were standing with Binky at the starting line of the Potato Dash. All the other competitors were limbering up with stretches or by bouncing up and down on the spot.

Friday sniffed the air. There was a very disagreeable aroma. ‘It's part Tiger balm, part fear sweat and partly the chook poo Mr Pilcher is currently watering into the flowerbeds on the far side of the science block,' said Friday.

‘I knew athletic events were unpleasant but I didn't realise they would smell so bad,' said Melanie.

‘So who is the favourite to win?' asked Friday.

‘Higgenbottom is fast, and so is Derrick Struthers, and Jamison,' said Binky. ‘But Rajiv Patel and Derrick's brother, Jason, are devious. They're roommates. Last year they concocted a scheme to slow everyone down with banana peels.'

‘Did it work?' asked Friday.

‘No, the winner punched Patel in the nose and kept running,' said Melanie.

‘You're super brainy,' said Binky, turning to Friday. ‘Do you have any tips on how to win a running race?'

‘There's no point asking her now,' said Melanie. ‘She's too distracted by seeing Ian in his super-short running shorts.'

‘I am not!' said Friday. ‘I haven't even noticed him.'

Friday turned round and saw Ian right behind her. He was stretching his quadriceps while standing on one leg. Friday had never seen him in so little clothing before. Students usually wore polo shirts for PE and much longer shorts. Not that Friday ever attended PE lessons if she could avoid it. She'd
never noticed how lean and muscular Ian's shoulders were before.

‘Now she's too distracted,' said Melanie.

‘Wainscott is a double threat,' said Binky. ‘He's fast and sneaky.'

Ian smirked as he caught Friday staring at him. ‘Like what you see?' asked Ian.

‘You have pleasing symmetry,' said Friday truthfully.

Ian raised his eyebrows.

‘You know you're good-looking, so you don't need me to tell you,' said Friday.

Ian smiled. ‘Please stop flirting with me. I'm trying to concentrate on winning this race.'

Friday's otherwise incredibly intelligent brain was suddenly unable to organise itself into finding a suitably cutting retort. All she could think to say was ‘bah' but she realised this didn't sum up her thoughts and feelings adequately, so she simply turned back to Binky.

‘Do I have to slap you to get you to focus?' asked Melanie.

‘No, I'm focused,' said Friday. ‘Run me through the rules of the race and maybe we can find a loophole.'

‘Oh, there aren't any,' said Binky. ‘Cheating is traditional.'

‘You're allowed to cheat?' asked Friday.

‘So long as you run from the starting line all the way to the finishing line through all four buildings,' said Binky. ‘It doesn't matter what you do to any of the other competitors along the way.'

‘That's appalling!' said Friday.

‘Not at all,' said Binky. ‘The headmaster who founded the race believed that cut-throat and brutally unfair competition was good preparation for real life.'

‘He's probably got a point there,' conceded Friday.

‘Have you any thoughts on how you might cheat, Binky?' asked Melanie.

‘Well, I am good at rugby,' said Binky. ‘So I thought I could have a go at tackling someone. Only problem is, it would leave me lying on the ground too and it's hard to win a race from that position.'

‘My advice is to run slowly,' said Friday.

‘Really?' said Binky. ‘I like the sound of that because running slowly sounds easier than running quickly, but it's not the best way to win a race.'

‘You stand no chance of victory through cheating or natural ability,' continued Friday. ‘The only way
you can win is if the whole race degenerates into total chaos and all the faster runners take each other out.'

‘That would be good,' said Binky.

‘All you've got to do is jog along at the back and try not to get knocked over,' advised Friday.

‘And be handsome while you do it,' said Melanie. ‘To catch Debbie's eye.'

But Binky had stopped paying attention. ‘Oh my gosh! There she is!'

Debbie was standing just a few feet away from them. They hadn't noticed her until now because Debbie was the type of person you could easily not notice. She was wearing her usual baggy cardigan but her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was wearing runner's leggings.

‘She's going in the race!' said Binky.

‘Wow!' said Melanie. ‘Girls don't usually enter because it can get so violent and there are so many injuries.'

‘I didn't expect her to be the athletic type,' said Binky.

‘Does it put you off?' asked Melanie.

‘Not at all,' said Binky. ‘I'm prepared to be open-minded.'

‘Two minutes till we start,' called the Vice Principal, who was acting as race marshal for the event. ‘Make sure you've all signed your legal waivers before the whistle goes off.'

Debbie pulled her cardigan off over her head.

‘Gosh!' exclaimed Binky. ‘What a stunner!'

Friday looked closely at Debbie. She was wearing a very baggy grey t-shirt. Admittedly, with the leggings, she was more athletic than Friday might have guessed. But she clearly wasn't seeing things with the same gossamer lenses that Binky was.

‘Now you, Binky,' said Melanie.

‘What?' asked Binky.

‘Take off your jersey,' said Melanie. ‘That's the whole point, remember? You're supposed to be showing yourself off as eye-candy.'

‘Oh, yes, of course,' said Binky. He pulled his own sweater off over his head.

Binky had grown since Friday had first met him. He was at least six foot four now. And the weight work had paid off. He even had muscles in his neck. Friday knew she must have muscles in her own neck or else her head would fall off, but the muscles in Binky's neck were sinewy and purposeful like tree roots.

Friday noticed Debbie taking a secret glance at Binky's muscly chest. ‘Binky, I think you might be more brilliant than we realised,' said Friday. ‘Your skimpy clothing idea just might work.'

‘Runners, lift your potatoes!' called the Vice Principal.

The entrants picked up their potato sacks. From the look of concentration on their faces, 20 kilos of potatoes balanced on the back of your neck was heavy just to hold, let alone run with.

‘Remember, there are no rules. The first person to run around all four corridors and then touch the flagpole while still carrying his sack of potatoes is the winner. Is that clear?'

No-one responded or even nodded their heads. They didn't want to dislodge their potato sacks from their necks.

‘Take your places,' called the Vice Principal.

All the entrants jockeyed for a good position on the starting line.

‘May the superior entrant win!' yelled the Vice Principal before firing his starting pistol.

They were off, running at breakneck speed down the first corridor, shoving and bumping each other as they fought for the best position coming up to the first doorway.

Patel got there first and, in an act of blatant cheating, grabbed one of the doors and swung it back into Ian, knocking him down flat. This skittled half a dozen runners as they tripped over Ian, which caused the rest of the runners to bottleneck in the doorway, stumbling out and falling down the stairs. Binky, who was running at the back, leapt over the stack of fallen runners.

‘Hey you, that's not cricket!' Binky called after Patel.

Patel looked over his shoulder and laughed. Binky, in an uncharacteristic flash of quick-thinking, whipped off his size 14 shoe and threw it at Patel. It hit him neatly on the ankle, causing him to trip and slam into the vending machine in the corridor.

The other runners swarmed past Binky and started sprinting down the second corridor, bursting out of the building and bounding up the stairs into the third corridor. Binky was lumbering along at the back, wearing only one shoe. Debbie was in the middle of the pack. Derrick Struthers was now in the lead.

‘It looks like Derrick is going to win,' said Friday.

‘You'd think so,' said Melanie. ‘But something melodramatic always happens in this race.'

Her words were immediately proven true. There was a tearing sound and Derrick's potatoes spilled all over the floor. All the runners behind him started slipping and rolling on the potatoes, slamming into each other and tumbling down. Debbie stood on one and her feet went out from under her, the potato sack around her neck pulling her over and she landed face down on top of three year 9 boys. Binky was the only runner left standing.

‘Run, Binky!' yelled Friday.

‘Run!' called Melanie.

But Binky stopped dead, dropped his potatoes and bent over to help Debbie by picking up her sack for her. ‘These potatoes are very light,' he said, confused.

Debbie blushed. ‘I hollowed them out,' she confessed. ‘Have I shocked you?'

‘I'm astounded,' said Binky. ‘Not only are you beautiful but you're clever, as well.'

‘I'm going to use the potato to make mash later,' said Debbie. ‘Do you want to come over and help me eat it?'

‘I'd love to,' said Binky happily.

Binky put Debbie's sack back onto her shoulders then swung his own sack into position. The pair started running, picking their way through the fallen runners and potatoes. Jason Struthers was up ahead and on his feet, at the front of the chaos. He burst out of the final doorway first and sprinted for the flagpole. Binky and Debbie chased after him. But Jason held his lead. He slapped the whitewashed timber, dropped his sack on the ground and leapt in the air in triumph, accidentally kicking the Vice Principal with his muddy shoes, much to the delight of the crowd.

‘Sorry about that, sir,' said Jason.

‘Quite all right,' said the Vice Principal, wincing. ‘As a fellow winner of the Potato Dash, I understand the ebullience that goes with victory – and in the record time of one minute and forty-nine seconds, too.'

Princess Ingrid stepped forward with the winner's cup and handed it to Jason. ‘Congratulations,' she said, formally.

Jason took the cup and grabbed Princess Ingrid in a big hug.

‘Ew, gross!' she screamed, less formally. ‘You're all wet with sweat!'

Jason held the cup aloft and the crowd cheered.

‘And now,' said the Vice Principal, a smirk of pleasure returning to his face, ‘the traditional prize for the runner-up. A kick in the pants from the winner!'

Jason grinned. Binky stepped forward, resigned to his fate. The crowd whooped and hooted.

‘Stop right there!' called Friday, stepping protectively in front of Binky. ‘No-one will be kicking Binky in the pants today. At least, not for coming second.'

‘Why ever not?' asked the Vice Principal. ‘I'll have you know this is an ancient tradition of the school.'

‘Hardly ancient,' said Melanie. ‘The school is only seventy years old.'

‘Still, it is important to uphold customs,' said the Vice Principal.

‘Binky should not be kicked,' said Friday, ‘because he did not come second. He won because Jason cheated!'

‘What?!' exploded the Vice Principal.

‘That's outrageous!' protested Jason. ‘I competed fair and square.'

‘Besides, cheating is allowed,' said the Vice Principal. ‘It's in the rules.'

‘Oh yes, cheating is allowed,' agreed Friday. ‘So there is nothing wrong with getting your roommate to slam a door on the rest of the runners. Or having your brother sabotage his sack of potatoes.'

‘You did those things?' asked the Vice Principal.

‘Maybe,' said Jason. ‘As you say, it is not against the rules.'

‘Exactly,' agreed the Vice Principal. ‘That's just strategy and tactics. Entirely admirable.'

‘Unless they weren't tactics to slow down the other runners,' said Friday. ‘They were tactics to distract everyone while one of the runners slipped out of the pack into a classroom, climbed out a window, ran counter clockwise around the outside of the quadrangle buildings, climbed in through another window in the science block and re-joined the race, just as we were again distracted by all the runners falling over on potatoes.'

‘That's farcical,' said the Vice Principal.

‘Did you see Jason running in the second or third corridors?' asked Friday.

‘Well, I'm sure he was there,' said the Vice Principal.

‘There were sixty runners,' said Friday. ‘No-one would notice if he slipped away when such dramatic accidents were occurring.'

‘You can't prove it,' said Jason.

‘That's where you're wrong,' said Friday. ‘To prove you did exactly that, all I have to do is take one sniff of the Vice Principal's clothes.' Friday leaned in and took a good long sniff of the mud stain on the Vice Principal's shirt front.