The Experiment part one

And to think, Emily would come to reflect on this morning, that was the experiment going well.

Her mum came in telling her come on, they had to get going, and opened the curtains, letting in the daylight. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Emily rolled over in bed to face the wall. When her mum asked if she’d sorted her stuff for the car boot sale on Sunday, Emily pulled the duvet over her head. But she didn’t stay like that long. Her mum had gone quiet, and Emily could feel the silence bearing down on her. She poked her head out and sure enough, her mum was staring at her, her face saying Seriously? ‘If we could have just one day without this palaver,’ she said. Then she switched the radio on and walked out, a whirlwind leaving its trail of destruction.

Over breakfast, Emily watched her argue with the builders about the extension. There was no telling some people, she told Emily in the car, she didn’t know how they got by; you had to be firm with them, it was the only language they understood. Emily nodded. She felt dozy. Her insomnia had been worse than usual last night. She felt like curling up in the car seat and closing her eyes, but she wouldn’t be able to sleep, not with her mum’s constant chatter.

By the time they got to school, Emily hadn’t said a word. So far, no one had noticed.

Petra wasn’t in the queue in the playground, or in register, so Emily sat on her own. Today would actually be easier without her. When Ms. Phoenix asked her where Petra was, Emily shrugged. Ms. Phoenix ticked her off without her having to say ‘Here.’

Emily mouthed along with the hymn in assembly, and in English, she wasn’t asked to read from the book they were studying. Russell Cockburn — pronounced ‘Coburn’, he insisted — kept kicking the back of her chair. When she didn’t respond he said, ‘Where’s your girlfriend? You two have an argument?’ She ignored him and he soon gave up his line of inquiry.

Maths was the first real test. Emily was one of the last in — she’d hung back to avoid the crush on the stairs — and so had to sit at the front. She did try to concentrate, but it all tended to wash over her, and, as usual, she found herself daydreaming. She heard her name and looked at the whiteboard, at the jumble of what looked like Greek symbols in blue marker pen. Mrs. Wilcox was staring back at her.

Emily held her gaze, waiting.

‘It’d be so nice if you could try and join us one of these days,’ Mrs. Wilcox said. ‘Can anyone help Mathers? Yes, Philips.’

Emily spent break time walking around the playing fields to get away from the noise of the playground and the games of It and British Bulldog. Usually she and Petra would talk about the other kids and speculate what the teachers did in their spare time. She was the only one Emily had told about today. At first, Petra said she was mad, then she asked why she was doing it. Emily had to think about it. ‘I don’t know,’ she said after a while. ‘To see if it makes any difference.’

She found out in physics. The other kids were still buzzing from break as they came into the lab and sat at the long wooden desks. Emily sat at the back, next to Hannah Lumsden and Lisa Peterson. All the boys fancied Hannah Lumsden because she looked old enough to get served. Apparently she went to the pub every Friday and had sex with someone different. Lisa Peterson dressed just like her, but was much dumpier; Hannah Lumsden seen in a fun house mirror. Emily took out a comic and sat reading. Hannah and Lisa were discussing whose house was free for a party this weekend when Mr. Dennis came in and called for quiet.

He told everyone to turn to page ninety-one in their textbooks. Emily hid the comic under hers and carried on reading. Then Mr. Dennis told them to take their coats off.

‘But sir, it’s freezing,’ Tom Potter said.

‘I’m not starting until your coats are off. We’ve a lot to get through Potter, if you keep us waiting much longer we’ll run into lunch break.’

The coats came off with a groan, all except Emily’s.

‘Now, last week we— Mathers, are you deaf?’

Emily looked up. Everyone had turned to face her, all sat on their coats on their stools.

Mr. Dennis never wore a coat or a jacket. He always wore a waistcoat with his shirt sleeves rolled up. He had cropped hair and he shouted all the time, even when reading out the instructions to an experiment. Everyone said he was a football hooligan when he was young, and he once got in a fight and killed someone in a car park.

‘Well?’ he said. ‘Are you going to take it off?’

Everyone was still looking at Emily. In the row in front, Mike Harrison nodded to her to do it. 

‘TAKE IT OFF!’ Mr. Dennis screamed, and everyone jumped, including Emily. Everyone looked down at their desks, but Emily managed to hold his eye contact. The vein in his temple was bulging, she could see it from across the room.

To gasps from the class, he stormed over; as he passed each row, people would turn and watch, making a Mexican wave of about-turns. He stopped in front of Emily and leaned over the desk, giving her a blast of his coffee breath.

‘Now,’ he said in a hushed, loud-quiet voice, ‘are you going to take your coat off?’

Her heart was going like a drumroll. She’d read in class before, and if it wasn’t for her mum hurrying her she’d be late for school every day. But this was the first time she’d openly disobeyed a teacher.

She fought the urge to look down at the desk.

‘What’s wrong?’ Mr. Dennis said. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

‘She left it in Petra,’ someone said, and the class laughed, but only for a second. ‘Quiet!’ Mr. Dennis shouted and the room fell silent. Then he noticed the comic peeking out from under Emily’s textbook. 

He slid it out and held it up at arm’s length between his thumb and forefinger. He regarded it as if it was a turd.

‘I see,’ he said, loud-quiet again. ‘Reading in class is one detention, so is disobeying a teacher. If you don’t take your coat off by the count of five you’ll be staying after school for the rest of term. Along with the whole class.’

Everyone gasped. Mr. Dennis rolled up the comic and crossed his hands in front of his waist. He looked down at Emily.

‘One.

‘Two.’

‘Take it off,’ someone said.

‘We’ll get detention,’ someone else said.

‘Three.’

‘Just do it Mathers.’

‘Four.’

A nervous whine went up from the class; people fidgeted and exchanged looks.

Hannah Lumsden gave Lisa Peterson the nod and Lisa Peterson grabbed Emily’s coat and started tugging. Emily jerked her arm away. 

‘Leave it,’ Mr. Dennis said. ‘She has to do it herself.’

Lisa Peterson let go, muttering, ‘It's not fair.’

‘Five,’ Mr. Dennis said. The vein in his temple throbbed like it might burst. Still staring at her — was his head trembling? or was she imagining it? — he drew in his breath, puffed out his chest and was just about to unleash the forces of hell when the door opened and everyone turned to the back of the class.

‘... many science labs where the pupils do their experiments,’ the headmaster Mr. Philpotts said as he came in. He turned to the other adults with him, two men and two women. ‘I’m sure you all have fond memories of magnets and iron filings.’ Emily felt the comic be shoved under her textbook.

‘Now if Mr. Dennis doesn’t mind, maybe we can watch a lesson in progress,’ Mr. Philpotts said. ‘I don’t know about you, but I could do with a refresher.’ The adults chuckled, then the five of them looked to Mr. Dennis.

‘... Of course. I was just sorting something out with Ms. Mathers here. But I can explain it after class.’

He carried on with the lesson. As he talked about forces and acceleration, the redness started to fade from his face. Emily heard Mr. Philpotts whispering to the adults, and caught the odd word like Achievement and Instil. Mr. Dennis was almost back to his normal colour when Tom Potter put on his coat.

Mr. Dennis didn’t miss a beat, but his voice quivered like a nudged record player. He looked on wide-eyed as Helen Smith put on hers, then Gareth Thompson, Lucie Wilson, Hannah Lumsden, Lisa Berridge. Soon the room was filled with the crinkle of material as everyone shifted, got their coats out from under them and put them on, mumbling.

‘Don’t see why Mathers should be the only one.’

‘Got detention anyway.’

Mr. Dennis asked Alex Philips to work out the acceleration of the object in question one. While she explained her working, Mr. Philpotts and his guests left, closing the door behind them. 

Alex Philips finished explaining and the room fell silent. Emily looked up to see Mr. Dennis staring at her.

‘Was I right?’ Alex Philips said.

‘Everyone coats off,’ Mr. Dennis said, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Someone said, ‘But sir—’

‘OFF!’

With a groan, everyone did as he said. All except Emily.

‘What about Mathers?’ Hannah Lumsden said.

‘Ms. Mathers is seeing me after.’

He managed to stay calm, but only until Ian Williams whispered something to Jon Taylor. Then he went berserk, screaming how dare he talk in lesson; he even swept Jon Taylor’s textbook off the desk and made him pick it up off the floor. He said he’d had enough of this behaviour and set them some exercises from the book. Then he sat at his desk watching everyone with their heads bowed, working in silence.

At the end of the lesson everyone started packing away, but they stopped when Mr. Dennis said, ‘The bell is a reminder for me, not you.’ He kept them a minute longer, then told them to get out of his sight. But not Ms. Mathers, she was staying behind.

They filed out with an occasional nervous laugh. Mr. Dennis came around to the front of his desk and sat on it, legs dangling, the heels of his shoes knocking against its front. ‘Could you come here Emily,’ he said in his new non-shouty quiet voice.

It was the first time she’d heard him use her first name. It was the first time she’d heard him use anyone’s first name.

She walked to the front of the empty lab.

‘Now I think we should have a little chat,’ he said without looking up from his lap. ‘At this school, there are certain standards that must be upheld. What we tolerate and what we won’t. When a teacher tells you to do something,’ he raised his head and looked down at her, ‘you do it. Understand?’

She nodded.

‘So do you want to explain why you didn’t take your coat off?’

She shrugged.

‘For god’s sake, don’t give me shrugs and nods, answer me,’ he said. ‘Well?’

She shrugged again.

‘I see. Maybe we should go and see Mr. Philpotts.’

He got down from the desk and eyeballed her, but only for a second before leading the way out. Emily followed. As she did, she thought today’s experiment had already taught her something; she’d never noticed before, but her and Mr. Dennis were about the same height.