Remember how you had to say the right things to the Head when you were in trouble and would get rather a favourite with her than being expelled? Thanks to InkandPaper for the idea. This is how, instead of being an ordinary bully, you become
AN INTERESTING PSYCHOLOGICAL CASE
"What's your name, boy?"
"Major, madam."
" Major – and?"
"Cholmondeley, madam, Cholmondeley Major."
The Headmistress rummaged among the papers on her desk.
"Major… Major… ah, yes…"
She looked up at the tall lanky boy that was standing next to the door.
"Cholmondeley, you know why you are here?"
The boy cleared his throat.
"I – I am not sure, madam…"
His voice seemed unnaturally high.
"Well, why don't you sit down and relax? And then we can talk about it all. There is really no need to be afraid. We at Experiment House always do our best to be modern and understanding…"
She looked down at the paper in front of her again; therefore, she could not see the shifty smirk that passed across the boy's face as he sat down in the chair in front of the desk.
"I have a report here from Mr. Neill," the Head continued. "About an incident in the sports lesson last week…"
She paused, but the boy did not say anything. So she went on:
"Apparently you twisted another boy's – yes, James Spivvins, - another boy's arm forcing him to kiss your shoes. I can hardly believe that, but Mr. Neill says he saw it with his own eyes. Now, why don't you just sit back and tell me in your own words what happened?"
The boy hid his face in his hands.
"Yes, it's true," he groaned, and his shoulders were shaking. "Yes, it's exactly what I did. I – I – "
His voice faltered.
The Head looked shocked.
"But- but why? Why on earth would you do such a terrible thing?"
"I – I don't know." A careful observer might have noticed the slightly exaggerated sob in the boy's voice, but the Head was nothing of the kind. "It's – it's perhaps because I envy him…"
"Envy?" The Head sounded surprised. "I happen to know his father died in the war and…"
"Yes!" the boy blurted out. "That's why! I hate my father, he drinks, and he keeps beating me whenever I'm home! Yes! That's why I envy Spivvins – because his father is dead!" Again he hid is face in his hands, and again a careful observer might have noticed that the shaking shoulders were not exactly a sign of desperation.
Again, the Head did not notice anything. There were tears in her eyes as she rose fromher chair, went round her desk and put a hand on the boys' shoulder.
"Calm down," she said soothingly. "Everything will be alright…"
"Am I going to be expelled? Oh, please, anything, but don't send me back to my father!"
"Of course nobody is going to expel you. We have our students' best interest at heart…"
"And, please, don't tell him what happened – he'd kill me if he knew…"
"No, there will not be any need to do that. Just don't do it again."
"Never! Oh, I'm so ashamed of myself!"
The Head opened the door and called,
"Heather, will you kindly send James Spivvins in?"
A moment later, a short, chubby boy with straw coloured hair entered, looking positively frightened when he saw Cholmondely Major.
"Your classmate here has to say something to you, James," the Head said cheerfully.
Slowly, the tall boy unfolded himself from the chair, wiped at
his – perfectly dry – eyes and took a step towards James, whose eyes widened, while he took a hasty step back.
"Now I want you two to shake hands …" the Head told the two boys.
"I am sorry, Jim," Cholmondely said, advancing at the other boy with his hand stretched out and an exaggerated smile plastered on his face. "Please forgive me."
The other hesitatingly shook hands, while the Head looked on, smiling happily.
"I dare say the two of you will become great friends," she said.
"I'm sure of it, madam," Cholmondely agreed.
When he left the office, his gang of admirers was gathered in the corridor.
"What did she give you, Chums?" Adela Pennyfather asked eagerly. "Detention?"
The tall boy gave a derisive laugh.
"Nothing!"
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. Rien. Just made me shake hands with him and promise I'd never do it again."
"But how-?"
" Fed her the story about my horrible father beating me; and she just gobbled it up like that!"
"And – does he?" Adela, not the quickest on the uptake, demanded.
"Does who what?"
"Your father? Beat you, I mean?"
"Ha, he's not even home often enough to know I exist! Stuffs me with money, but otherwise ignores me – the best father you could wish for!"
"And what now?" Bill Garrett inquired with a nasty smirk.
"What do you think? I'll get the little stinker in the playground after lessons – just have to be a bit more careful in future…"
A/N: For those wondering - Cholmondeley is actually pronounced "Chumlie".