Free Opposite Sides by Susan Firman

round behind the back shed for a quick smoke before the
master on duty began his after-school inspection. Hans became
restless as the time for the final bell got closer and found that
the skin on his legs felt as though it were crawling with a
thousand small insects. His feet began to ache with anticipation
and he found he could no longer concentrate on his work.
    Careful . Careful , he
kept telling himself as he slumped even more over the book on his
desk trying to become one with the desk top. His hand shook as he
tried to re-load his pen with ink from the ink-well and several
blobs dripped on the wood from the well to the edge of his exercise
book. His hand fumbled around in his jacket pocket until he
serendipitously drew out a piece of blotting paper to mop up the
offending ink. He was afraid to raise his head in case the master
sprang on him like a fox. Finally the bell sounded. Books shut with
a dull thuds around the room. The master gave his permission for
them to leave. Seats banged and scraped across the wooden
floorboards as boys straddled their bench seats, fumbling to get
books, pens and papers into their bags which had been stowed
underneath. Hans had already secretly stowed away his things,
except his writing book so that as soon as he heard the words to
go, he jumped back off the seat and rushed out of the room. He had
no wish for anyone to see that he was heading for the girl’s
section.
    Jan was not in the hurry
Hans was. She had decided to keep her teacher in conversation at
the border between the two school areas so that Hans was forced to
wait. He was visibly irritated but that did not seem to impinge on
Jan. He chewed on his little finger, anxiously waiting for the
conversation to end, all the while dreading the possibility of
meeting one of the boys who still delighted in teasing
him.
    “ . . .
you’ve certainly got a good idea, there, young lady.” The classroom
mistress leaned over the front of the wicker wheelchair, her back
in Hans’ direction. Jan paid him no attention as she and her
teacher submersed themselves in one of Jan’s exercise books. Jan’s
work was always carefully planned and neatly written, not like some
of his with its smudged ink blotches after he’d tried to soak up
the excess ink with his piece of black-stained blotting paper. When
it seemed that Jan had finished, she removed her glasses and spent
some time carefully wiping and re-wiping them before putting them
back on, and then taking even more time to pack up her things and
lay her bag across her lap. Finally, she managed to turn the large
wheels of her cumbersome wheelchair and cross the
divide.
    “ You can
wheel me home now, Mr Resmel.”
    Hans said nothing. He
took hold of the high handles on the rear of the chair and began
pushing the heavy, awkward chair down the pathway which led round
the back of the main school building and through the rear gate. He
made an awkward right turn and followed a narrower path leading up
to Miss Turner’s house. Jan did not speak; not even one word. When
he finally reached the house door, Miss Turner’s two maids, Mary
and Ellen, were there to meet them and help Jan with her
wheel-chair. Jan just nodded in Hans’ direction. She sat in her
chair looking at him in deathly silence.
    “ Thank you,
sir.” It was Mary who came down the steps and spoke to him. “We’ll
be ready f’you tomorra mornin’. Good afternoon, sir.”
    Hans clicked his heels to
acknowledge the greeting. Then without a word, he swung round and
strode back down the path back into the college grounds. He was so
relieved to have rid himself of that dreadful girl.
    So, that was
Janine; no, that is Jan Turner .
    As soon as he
had got rid of her, he let his guard down
and began to whistle a snippets of music he had remembered from his
early childhood. As he rounded the last corner to make his way to
the wide gravel driveway, four of the remaining boys who had been
behind the shed blocked his path.
    “ Here