The kids are alright

A tiny cold grey sun shone through the lifting cloud; as the cloud arose, it slowly began to change the colour of the road from a wet black treacle, in the distance where the trees stretched their fingers out, either side of the road, in a vain attempt to make eternal embracing arch, of the narrow entrance to the school; to an iridescent white in the middle distance, that blinded the eye if stared at for too long. On the corner, by the entrance of the school, by an ancient flint wall, that encircled school grounds, there was an alcove where an old wooden bench, had been screwed to the floor. It was riven with narrow black veins of damp and pale green flaky polyps of verdigris that spread like gentle petals, from their crystal core.
The elderly couple came slowly up the road. He had a large, almost square looking head that had thinning slicked back white hair, a rounded almost bulbous nose above a wide large lipped mouth that moved in a round pursing motion. His, appearance was generally neat and tidy, as he was wearing a square, pale brown jacket; with a large collar, a pair of blue slacks, and shiny brown shoes. Next to him and taking his arm was a small bird like woman, with a tight ball of wiry white hair, a narrow nose and thin lips under a non-existent chin. She wore a clear shiny red plastic mac, over a paisley dress, heavy brown tights and white shoes. She was carrying a cloth bag. Slowly, without speaking they made their way to the bench and sat down. Opposite the bench, the public library, now closed, reflected the light of the trees through its clear glass windows. The light seemed to bend as the windows curled along the length of the building. Allowing the reflection of the couple to bend and twist. And the flint wall to slide, as cars slowly passed reflecting patterns of thin spiral fingers of semi-fluid motion.
They sat in silence as the old woman put the bag on her lap opened it and brought out a small Tupper wear box; with a red lid.
‘Would y’a like a sandwich dear?’
‘Yeah… Cheese… please.’
‘there y’go.’ She said as she, with claw like shaking hands opened the box and passed him a small triangular piece of white bread. He pushed the sandwich in and with the same circular motion began to munch the sandwich. There was another long pause as they both sat there in silence. He had his hands on his lap, and she had the bag on hers, they sat together, yet apart, lost in thoughts’ unknown.
‘Would you like a drink dear?’ she asked.
‘Please dear. ’
She looked in the bag and pulled out a thermos flask and a small plastic cup. She put the cup down upon the damp space of the chair that was between them, and then opened the flask and poured a cup of steaming milky tea. He gingerly picked it up and drank slurped it noisily. There was another pause, the sun rose and warmed the day, the grey slipped away and became a golden afternoon. Cars passed and flowed with a liquidity and a clicking hum of combustion. The tall blue gates of the school opened; and the children began to leave. One boy passed by quite close.
‘Go on Feck off!’ The old man suddenly shouted to one of the boys that passed. The boy looked at him and tried not to laugh.
‘ha ha ha.’ Said the old woman. ‘Look at that skuzzwit!’ she said pointing at the boy, whose face stopped smiling. ‘I think ee wants to pork me!’ She said laughing.
‘Feckin’ shite! The old man shouted and staggered to his feet. ‘I’ll break his feckin’ face if ee looks at you like that again. No one fecks you but me!’
‘ha ha ha, you old bastard!’
‘he, he he.’
A couple of the boys looked nervous as they came through the gates; they buried their heads into their bags that they carried over shoulders as they left the school.
‘GO ON FECK OFF YOU SHITTY ARSE!’ The old man shouted after them. His words faded as they began to run down the road; at that they both started to laugh once more. A few more children started to come through the gates; they all turned right and away from the old couple.
Another couple of girls, one with blonde hair, the other dark came through the gates. They turned left. One with dark hair looked with a smirk at them; making the elderly woman laugh.
‘Look at that Tart!’ She said as she pointed to the dark hard girl on the left.
The girl interrupted. ‘-What did you call me?’
‘-She called you a tart you slapper!’ The old man replied.
‘-How fucking dare you?’
‘-ha ha ha That’s the spirit.’ Said the old woman. ‘Keep it up you stupid bitch!’ she said as she tried to get up.
‘-I don’t have to stand for this.’
‘Well don’t then!’
‘I’m going to get the headmaster.’
‘Well FECK OFF AND DO IT THEN!’ The old man said aggressively, before he too started laughing insanely.
A moment later the girl returned; looking very upset with a tired looking male teacher, who had a rounded belly, brown flares and a moustache which seemed to dribble across his upper lip. He came through the gates and sighed, looking up into the air,
‘Ahh… Mr and Mrs Paine.’ He said, in a tired slight bristling Bristolian accent. ‘I see you’ve greeted us with you’re effervescent presence once again.
‘Well if it aint the feckin’ arse who runs this shite-house!’ said Mr Paine.
‘ Mr Paine…’ he began the headmaster gently.
‘My name is Denton… that fine lookin’ woman is Pauline.
Pauline smiled and looked sweetly at him, as she raised her skirt.
‘ Denton, look…’
‘-Look what? ye fecking shite!’ He said as he arose from the bench. And then sat down once more ‘Ahh wha’s the feckin’ point ye whimp...’ He threw up a dismissive hand and looked away, before getting up again moving in closer. ‘… these kids…they donno thy’re alive! When I was their age, I was making it large an’ messy every feckin night with my mates! Every feckin’ night! An’ I have the busted liver to prove it! How old am I now. Feckin’ eighty! Nowadays theirs tea an’ coffee and endless study… what a feckin’ lie!
‘You tell im’ began Pauline aggressively.
‘Feckin right I will! Hey Pauline, you remember when we went to Ibiza… the Mondays rinin’ in our feckin ears…nineteen ninety? I shagged four women an’ one bloke that night…one massive happen’in.’
‘he he he.’ Laughed Pauline. ‘Massive.’
‘Mr and Mrs Paine.’ Began the headmaster. His tired face, tight and strained. ‘I have told you both before that if this was to continue we will have you escorted away. I have already called the police.’
‘-OHH ye have?’ Mr Paine looked at his wife sadly. ‘They’ve called the feckin buzzies on us.’ He shook his head. ‘Now why did you do that?’
‘Because you’re threatening our pupils.’
‘Threatening…’ he laughed coldly hardly hiding his sarcasm. ‘Did ye hear that Pauline? We’re a threat.’
Pauline started to laugh acidly. Her mouth a huge gaping hole. Her dentures yellow and ill fitting, her dark red lipstick red and distorted mess upon her narrow bird like lips, leaving the headmaster with a frightening image of a vicious clown. ‘Ohh Denton, you tell ‘im.’ She squealed.
‘An what do ye think ye’ve done to us?’ he said cruelly, his voice full of bitterness and restrained violence.
‘It’s not our fault.’ Began the headmaster tiredly; feeling the weight of the past few weeks.
‘Yes it is you cunt!’ spat Pauline; Her face a twisted mass of rage. She staggered to her feet, and from her bag pulled out a knuckle duster. ‘Come on Denton let me hit the shit’ she spat.
‘No…’ said Denton. ‘…Now…’ Denton paused and tried to console Pauline. ‘…C’me on Pauline…’ he paused and shrugged his shoulders pursed his lips once. ‘…We are reasonable aren’t we?’
‘You might be…’ She said, as she stroked her hand across the golden knuckle duster. That shone brightly in the afternoon light. ‘…I wanna make him pay!’
‘The library is closed because of government cuts!’ The headmaster said exasperated. As the police car arrived.
The police car came to a sliding halt in front of the school entrance; and two large men wearing large blue helmets thick blue vests and carrying heavy looking black pistols in black holsters got out. They walked over to the Headmaster. The first officer nodded.
‘So it’s the Paines again?’
‘yes.’
The officer shook his head sadly.
‘Tell me. What can I do?’
The officer shrugged. ‘I see your point…’ he began. ‘…after all, what can be done with history teachers past their prime?’
As Denton and Pauline were put into the back of the car. The headmaster sighed heavily and waved thankfully as the car slid silently away down the road and out of sight.

End .