“That bell is for me, not for
you. So just sit back down,” the teacher commanded.
Jake found himself frozen
somewhere in between standing up and sitting down, and behind him
he was sure that he heard the window rattle slightly. Whether it
was from the wind or the power of the teacher’s voice, he couldn’t
quite tell.
One or two of the pupils glanced
nervously at each other as the entire class slowly sank back into
their seats.
Mr Hamish’s stern face
immediately relaxed. “Thank you. Now, I want you to do sections
four, five, and six for homework. Bonus points for anyone who gives
section seven a go as well.” His thick Scottish accent made ‘well’
sound almost indistinguishable from ‘hell’.
“Sir, when do you want this done
by?” Jake asked, more by automatic reflex than a desire to actually
know and he regretted the question the moment he asked it. A couple
of the other pupils looked round at him, their eyes full of
impatience and annoyance at being held back against their will.
Everyone else remained transfixed with the towering form in front
of them.
Mr Hamish narrowed his eyes and
thought for a second. “Next lesson should be plenty of time. That
leaves you all a couple of days, right?”
Jake froze in panic. The
monotony of school life meant his timetable was usually printed
indelibly in his memory, yet now he couldn’t remember any of
it.
