Hi all
Here's another comedy short – needed yet another break from the big BT, Chapter 12 of which will be with you soon.
This one's set in the present, and will be comprised of two chapters.
Can I just thank NCD for giving me her kind permission to borrow "Magilec" – and for anyone who is behind with her amazing story, Appearances Can Be Deceptive (Rated M) please CATCH UP NOW! To anyone lucky enough to have that particular delight still to come, may I suggest you START READING IT!
Ithankyou.
HBF
The Curse of Modern Technology
1
'That's my final word on the matter, Constance,' Amelia sighed, passing the compact cardboard package to her deputy. 'All staff members have been issued with one. What with Miss Drill being here on a permanent basis and Miss Lamplighter working part time – not to mention Frank and Maria – we really do need to step up communication between the staff in case of emergency.'
Constance sneered down at the box in her hand as though it contained something toxic. She didn't know what "Nokia" meant, or why the picture on the front was that of a young woman beaming as she gambolled along a seafront, mobile phone clamped to her ear; but she did know that whilst Miss Cackle advocated preserving the best of the old whilst welcoming the best of the new, this was certainly not her idea of the latter.
'And what am I supposed to do with it?' she sniffed.
'Well, I don't know,' Amelia sounded hesitant. 'Charge it up, I suppose.'
'"Charge it up?"' Constance spat. 'And how on earth do I do that without electricity?'
'Mr Hallow has had some Magilec installed on a temporary basis in the staffroom. In the meantime, I've set some of the fifth years an assignment to formulate a mobile-phone-charging spell.' The headmistress beamed at her own resourcefulness.
'My, you really have thought of everything this time, haven't you?' said Constance scathingly, as she made for the door. 'Be warned, Miss Cackle – as soon as the girls get wind of this, they'll be bringing all sorts of devices into class, and everything we've done to discourage them from using such contraptions will go to pot.'
The door slammed behind the deputy's retreating back.
Amelia flopped back in her seat, fumbling idly in her top drawer for her own mobile. She'd reached Level twelve of Tetris, and she wasn't stopping for anybody...
x
'This will all end in tears,' Constance grumbled, cursing under her breath as the SIM card made a bid for freedom from her fingertips. 'For goodness sake! How on earth is anybody supposed to use something so fiddly? And have you seen the size of the buttons?'
'Let me have a look,' Imogen kept her tone deliberately calm as she slid the SIM perfectly into place, connected the battery, replaced the back cover and plugged the phone into the socket. 'There,' she smiled, settling it on the windowsill next to Davina's, which was already sporting a silver cover emblazoned with a diamante bat motif. 'You'll find you can't live without it once you've had it a few days. I suppose I'd better take your number. It'll be on the side of the box.'
Constance rolled her eyes, fishing the flattened packaging from the wastepaper basket and handing it to the gym mistress, who proceeded to punch the numbers into her directory with well -practiced speed.
'I think it's all rather fun,' mused Davina, flicking through the dull diagrams in the manual. 'You can get onto the Internet and everything! I'll be able to keep in touch with my friends in Mongolia.'
'All the time incurring extortionate charges for the privilege,' protested Constance. 'There are some things, Miss Bat, which should be left in the non-magical world, and this is most certainly one of them.'
'Come on, Miss Hardbroom,' Imogen coaxed. 'The whole point is to open up new lines of communication when we need them most. The rest of us can't just appear out of nowhere at the drop of a hat, and we don't all have supersonic hearing that kicks in at the slightest hint of trouble.'
'Which is why, Miss Drill, I am a witch and you are not! It wouldn't do if we were all the same, now, would it?'
No, Miss Hardbroom, thought Imogen with a sigh, watching Constance across the table and noticing that she looked very pleased with her retort. How awful it would be if we were all as neophobic as you...
x
'Did you know,' Fenella nudged Griselda as they sat down to lunch. 'The teachers have got new mobiles.'
'No way!'
'Yes way – even HB.' They peered through the crowd of dining students to the top table, where Miss Hardbroom was sitting slightly apart from the other members of staff, taking her time over a plate of green beans.
'We've got to get hold of her number!' The mischievous possibilities were almost too much for Griselda to bear.
'Like that's gonna happen! She'll keep the thing under lock, key and binding spell – if she even uses it at all, that is.'
Griselda didn't seem to hear. She was already reaching into her satchel as a plan formed in her mind.
'Gris! You don't honestly keep that with you all the time, do you?'
Griselda produced a fuchsia pink, clamshell phone which was apparently in silent mode.
'Course I do! I've got five spare batteries which I charge at home during the holidays. If I don't spend too much time on it, they last me the best part of a term.'
She fiddled with the settings under the table before concentrating on the screen.
'What are you doing?'
'Shh!'
'Gris – what –'
'Shut up! Don't draw attention to us... Just a few seconds more...' Griselda's face broke into an expression of utter glee. 'You are NOT gonna believe this.'
'What?'
'HB's got Bluetooth!'
Fenella's eyes sparkled as she snatched the phone from her friend, scanning the list of Devices Found on the screen.
'MillieHub - naughty Mildred! DP'96 - whoever that is, Imogen – Miss Drill! And... HB. Oh my God! She actually calls herself HB! Do you reckon it's really her?'
'Shhh!' Griselda yanked the phone back, grinning widely. 'There's only one way to find out!'
x
'Can you see anything?'
The keyhole-shaped room came into focus as Enid squinted through one eye. She could only see so far in either direction – but she could see enough to ascertain that there was no one at the table, and no one by the urn. Unless the entire staff body was packed like sardines in the stationery cupboard, the coast was clear.
'Yep,' Enid whispered against the door. 'Looking good. Keep an eye out. I'm going in!'
In a moment, Enid had let herself into the staffroom and clicked the door shut behind her. She observed her surroundings for a moment, feeling the thrill of being somewhere totally out of bounds. She soon clocked the neat row of mobile phones snoozing on the windowsill, each connected to their own life support system. In a flash she was at the window, examining the first phone (which definitely wasn't the right one) ignoring the second (which, judging by its case, must have been Miss Bat's) and, grabbing the third, skipped expertly through the menu to the contacts list, scrolling down to "C".
'Right,' she whispered through the keyhole. 'I've got it! Who's taking it down?'
'Me,' she heard Ruby's voice on the other side of the door. 'Fire away.'
Enid read the number out before returning the phone to its resting place and bundling out of the staffroom, the excitement of danger still pounding through her veins.
'So what are we going to do with it?' asked Mildred, twirling the end of her plait around her fingers.
'I've had a few ideas,' replied Ruby, wistfully. 'Come with me, girls...'
x
Fortunately, the fourth year potions lesson that afternoon was a practical one, so once Miss Hardbroom had given her instructions and offered dire warnings of the consequences of failure, Griselda allowed a few minutes to pass as the class set to work, before reaching into her bag for her mobile. She ran a search for nearby devices and was delighted when HB appeared on her screen again.
'This is it,' she whispered to Fenella, cautious not to let anyone within earshot hear her. 'What shall I put?'
'Err... Hi Miss?' suggested Fenella. Griselda rolled her eyes in exasperation.
'Come on, Fen – it's got to be a better effort than that. How about... Hello Foxy?'
'Yeah yeah! Do that!' Fenella could barely contain her giggles as Griselda thumbed the text into the keys.
'Send!' she whispered, in a menacing tone. The girls had to bite their lips as they hastened to mix their memory restoration potion in an effort to catch up with the rest of the class, every so often glancing at Miss Hardbroom who was marking work at her desk. Within moments, there was a muffled buzzing sound, and Miss Hardbroom looked suspicious as she tried to locate its source. Her eyes trailed to her desk to see her phone inching along the surface with every vibration. She hovered her palm over it as though it might take a chunk out of her, before picking it up and turning it over in her hand. Fenella and Griselda daren't look at each other. The next time they glanced up, Miss Hardbroom was staring intently at the screen, the colour draining out of her face.
'Are you all right, Miss?' said someone at the front of the room.
'Yes, quite.' said Miss Hardbroom, who now looked as though she were about to faint. Pulling herself together, she swept her gaze about the classroom as if to ensure nobody else had noticed her momentary lapse.
'Extreme!' whispered Fenella and Griselda in unison.
x
It wasn't often that Imogen managed to get the staffroom to herself in the evenings. It was rather nice, without Miss Bat singing, or Miss Hardbroom complaining, or Miss Cackle piling yet more paperwork onto her. She'd helped herself to a cheeky glass of wine from the drinks cabinet, and settled down into the armchair to text Serge.
Message to Serge:
Hiya. Good day? Still on for the weekend? Me xx
A few minutes passed, during which Imogen rifled idly through this month's edition of Fitness magazine. Her phone chirruped.
New Message from Serge:
Hey honey. Not a bad day. Beanpole fell into a stream and twisted an ankle. What a moron. :-/ Of course up for weekend. Can't wait. S x
Imogen beamed in the candlelight.
The phone chirruped again. Blimey, she thought. He's keen tonight.
New Message from Constance: (Oh great...)
Miss Drill, I am sending you a test message. Could you reply presently to let me know you have received this.
Message to Constance:
Received loud and clear.
Message to Serge:
Poor beanpole... How are the others? Me xx
New Message from Constance
There was no need to be sarcastic, Miss Drill. A simple "yes" would have sufficed.
Imogen huffed as she punched in her response. So much for a romantic chat with her boyfriend.
Message to Constance:
Sorry, Miss Hardbroom. No sarcasm intended. I'm glad to see you've mastered the art of texting.
New Message from Serge:
All well. How's the maiden aunt? ;-)
Message to Serge:
Hard work, as always. Talk to you at the weekend. Shall I pick up a Chinese en-route? Me xx
New Message from Constance:
I would hardly call it an art. Perhaps you could assist me with some of the other functions. I don't have time to read manuals.
New message from Serge:
No. Just bring yourself... and maybe that frilly lingerie. You can help me remove it... :-p S x
Imogen blushed, grinning from ear to ear.
Message to Serge:
I'd like nothing more than to help you with that. See you tomorrow night, sexy... xxx
Sending... Constance...
'Oh, fuck, fuck, no no no, please no!' Imogen furiously pressed "cancel", knowing all too well that resistance was futile. As the words "Message Sent" blinked mockingly on the screen, she was filled with a sickening sense of horror. Wracking her brains for the remotest solution, she slung the magazine on the table and hurtled out of the staffroom, the door banging on its hinges as she went.
x
Oh dear, Imogen, what have you done?
The concluding chapter will follow over the next few days...
Please review!