Many thanks to those who read and even more to those who reviewed my last chapter. Warning this one is straying into M territory but I don't want to alter the rating for one chapter. I have tried not to be overly explicit but having seen some of the material produced in allegedly teenage novels I wasn't entirely sure where the balance should rest in terms of the site guidance. I should add that all these events are entirely made up. You'll understand why I'm saying that when you've read it.
Lecture Theatre
10.30am
Malcolm and Tom approached the Conference Centre separately at a time precisely calibrated to ensure that their entrance alongside the great rush of delegates would be as unobtrusive as possible, and the false identification, matching the carefully hacked and artfully supplemented official paperwork would go unchallenged. Once safely admitted into the premises Malcolm, taking advantage of the crowds, peeled off, as per their prior agreement, into a quiet side corridor while Tom continued his unimpeded progress through the wooden double doors that formed the entrance to the lecture theatre. A venue that they'd visited surreptitiously the previous evening, a necessary risk to ensure that the finishing touches to finishing off Robin where securely in place. The room layout was ordinary enough, comprising the usual semi circular tiered seating with a stepped centre and side aisles, all leading down to a wider floored space occupied by a dais equipped with a laptop and microphone both set slightly to the side but in front of the dominant feature, a large whiteboard currently hosting a whirling screensaver. An arrangement that signalled to conference aficionados that they were about to be entertained to death by Powerpoint. From the unusually well padded seats it would seem that whosoever was responsible for organising the soft furnishings also partook of a cynical view regarding this great adjunct to erudition.
Tom opted for a seat directly on the side of the centre aisle. Having the luxury of a few moments to acclimatise himself before the arrival of the organising committee plus Robin he followed the time honoured habit of trained spooks by taking stock of the general company. It was with relief that he realised that he and Malcolm, trained to be chameleons, more or less blended into the varied sartorial styles on show. In general, allowing for certain gender based differences, these ranged from the formal suit and tie combo, favoured by those of Malcolm's vintage and a scattering of prestige seeking young foggies, through the less formal sports jacket, tieless, smart casual style adopted by Tom and the majority present, and then regrettably extended to embrace a sprinkling of the jeans and slogan T shirt brigade, the ones who in the classroom wanted to look cool with the kids, and who in most cases – as any teenager would have informed them – merely looked sad, particularly those who wouldn't see forty again. Noting that most of those present were chiefly occupied with themselves Tom chanced an upwards glance. Although the conference management had decided that guest speakers who intended to illustrate their arguments with presentations could manage quite nicely with the arrangement of dais, laptop and memory stick, the hall did in fact boast an alternative form of projection. Set up high in the back wall behind a plate glass panel, not unlike that creating Harry's office, was a small studio from which film and other media could be beamed when necessary. Reassuringly a barely perceptible flutter of movement indicated that Malcolm had arrived and was now in position, prepared and ready to orchestrate proceedings as required.
Relaxing a touch Tom turned his attention to the surrounding hubbub of conversation, eavesdropping in the hope of obtaining useful Intel. Most of the discussions were uttered in low voices, from which Tom could only pick out the occasional jargon ridden word or phrase designed to impress. A group of youngish women arriving and sitting just in front him however were chatting excitedly about the treat in store, and generally reacting like groupies as they giggled admiringly about the wondrous being invited to address them.
"He was so understanding of my problems. Said he'd be willing to discuss them at length privately. How many men in his position would be willing to spare the time?"
"I know – it's so lovely to meet a man who's so well read, and such a gentleman as well. He's so modest with it – says that he remembers what's like to be starting out in a career and he's willing to give me tips."
Refraining with difficulty from grinding his teeth Tom reflected that if Jane had raved only half as much when conducting her not very secret affair with Robin it was no wonder Harry had punched him on the nose, recently disinterred data having made him admit to Malcolm and Tom that he'd have saved everyone a peck of trouble if he'd immobilised another appendage entirely. Making a further eye sweep of the room Tom noticed that the man of about Harry's age who was sitting directly opposite him had also overheard some of this ill informed praise. Judging from his face he was just as revolted as Tom. Establishing a brief eye contact he pulled an infinitesimal grimace before turning his attention frontwards. Tom without the necessity of an introduction recognised him at once from the picture shown to him by Malcolm during yesterday's meeting.
"Oliver Carstairs an old friend of Jane and not an admirer of Robin. The only person, apart from ourselves to know that Jane has left him."
Harry had added, "And knows that I'm Jane's ex. Probably also what I do and who I am."
After some discussion as to whether they should approach Oliver for help they'd finally decided to stick to the original plan, the less complicated the better, and there was no knowing if Oliver would, despite his declared dislike of Robin, agree to be a party to the particular form of skulduggery they had in mind.
Tom had no time to consider further as a group of four men, comprising the three members of the organising committee, plus Robin, entered and made their stately and ego enhancing progress to the front. This, the first occasion on which Tom had seen Robin in the flesh, made him wonder once again at the impressionability of women. He'd admit that Robin was good looking, with a slim figure and full head of hair belying his age, he'd even go so far as to describe him as vaguely distinguished, with a maturity enhanced by the slight touch of the greying temples, but how women could fall for such an obvious smile, the sense self importance that oozed from every pore, combined with that air of carefully calculated charm, utterly confounded him. When he'd expressed this view to Christine she'd simply informed him, "Women ask exactly the same question about men and big breasted bimbos with three foot eyelashes ." That being her parting shot prior to her exiting the house on her appointed role in the mission to bring down Robin. Harry, the rarely banjaxed, had been quite stunned when informed that Christine, having discovered what exactly Tom was engaged in via a domestic session of 'I spy' had subsequently volunteered to play a vital role in shadowing the now identified Smoochie Babe, whose real unexciting name of Tracy Brown somehow didn't quite live up, or, depending on your viewpoint, down to that of her semi pornographic persona.
"You might not be Christine's favourite person Harry but when I explained the situation – you can usually get women to cooperate on the sisterhood ticket'" It was a very approximate paraphrase of what Christine had actually said, which had been along the lines of 'If losing Ruth has made him want to atone for earlier damage of course I'll help. Anyway it'll be fun dusting off my skills and we do owe Harry – he could have made our lives impossible." Whatever her motive Tom was forced to admit that she'd delivered a result that had brought a grim smile of gratitude to Harry's lips.
Concentrating on the events currently unfolding Tom tried to look interested as the official party reached the dais and the conference chairman began his introductory eulogy on what Tom had firmly decided was indeed Robin's specialist subject. Robin.
"Ladies and gentleman welcome to the conference. Last night we enjoyed some fellowship but today we open with the key note address. Which, when our original speaker was forced to drop out, Robin Tindall very kindly agreed to deliver. He is known to many of us as a former very successful headteacher and now advises on a range of issues. His speciality however is in the area of guiding pupil behaviour and I'm sure that we will all benefit from his incisive insights."
A statement that was greeted with some mild applause, Tom noticed that it was perfunctory in more than one quarter, although the female cheerleaders for team Robin were bouncing up and down clapping loudly, earning the reward of a dazzling tooth flossed smile from the man himself. Waiting until the organising committee had retired to their reserved front row seats Robin moved sleekly to take up his position by the speaker's stand. After checking the laptop was operational he announced,
"Thank you for your kind reception. The title of my opening address will, I hope, set the tone for the conference and is entitled: 'Behaviour: our pupils and ourselves."
With that he pushed a button and the slide bearing this grandiose title appeared on the board as he continued.
"We talk continually about pupil behaviour as if it where single entity when in reality we are looking at a range of behaviours. Poor behaviour manifests itself in many ways. Also we speak of the pupils' conduct but frequently fail to consider that we need to lead by example, and should ensure that at all times we strive to live up to the standards of behaviour we demand of our charges."
Judging by the non reaction of several of the audience it was so far so boring, until for a tantalizing second the slide on show featured a fleeting image displaying a naked backview of Robin. Literally a case of now you saw it now you didn't, but it was sufficient to create a mild buzz in the room which Robin, smiling at the audience, naturally attributed to his eloquence.
"Because behaviours are so different, ranging from what seems minor but may still create classroom tension, to more major issues, I will outline three areas in which I believe we can easily lead by example, in the hope of stimulating exciting discussions during the rest of the conference."
Tom inwardly smirking thought that Robin had got that bit right at least, he just didn't know the context - yet.
"Let us start with one of the most basic issues we face. Getting pupils to arrive and wear conventional school uniform. This can be regarded by teenagers as a most unreasonable request at the best of times. It seems even more unfair when made by a teacher who is not adhering to a similar dress code. I always ensure that I wear a suit to work, and I would also advise any teacher who resides in the same locality as their pupils to dress in a style becoming to their age, as in my example."
An almost collective gasp shot through the theatre as the illustration of Robin in his leisure wear flashed onto the whiteboard. Robin smiled patronisingly at the stunned multitude as he commented,
"Thank you. I didn't think that my out of hours clothing would reap such a surprised reaction. It's only what most of us would be seen wearing."
Catching a low mutter from the somewhere near the front, "Speak for yourself mate." Robin turned his puzzled gaze towards the whiteboard, Tom, being judicious, could understand his confusion, by the time Robin's eyes locked on the screen the current slide, bearing a photograph of himself resplendent in a fluorescent green posing pouch and black thigh length stiletto heeled boots, had been quickly replaced by a shot of him more conventionally attired in a long sleeved shirt and casual trousers. Meanwhile Malcolm up in the Gods was heaving a sigh of relief. The cunningly amended presentation was working as planned. Although Robin holding the controlling handset was allegedly responsible for what was being posted on the screen it was Malcolm who was actually manipulating the machine. Despite the view that the audience had just been treated too, they hadn't seen anything yet, apart from Robin in the near buff. On with the show.
Robin wasn't knocked off his personal stride for long as he returned to his theme,
"Not only must we set an example through our personal appearance." Tom glancing across at Oliver noted that his shoulders were heaving. "But we must also consider other low level issues that may seem minor but are an indication of a disrespectful attitude to others. For example most of us would, I trust, pull up a student for name calling, but how often have we heard a child teased because of their name, even worse, abhorrent as I find it, we as adult sometimes do this in an ill advised attempt at humour. Instead of making game of people who are have inconsiderate or unthinking parents we should sympathise. I am of the view that anyone who mocks an unfortunate nomenclature regularly is unfit to teach, and nicknames should not be used whatever the circumstances."
As Robin surveyed the room to assess the impact of his messianic words of wisdom upon the lucky few present, the slide on display behind his proud head suddenly acquired a life of its own, morphing into an embedded video clip featuring Robin and his respect agenda in action.
Having first helpfully honed in on a pair of complimentary dressing gowns left lying on the floor but discreetly embroidered with the logo of the hotel hosting the conference the camera moved to depict Robin and a very young female companion stretched out entirely naked on the king size bed, with Robin caressing her full breasts as he breathed heavily,
"I think I need to change your nickname Smoochie Babe to some more appropriate."
After a pause, during which Smoochie Babe nibbled Robin's ear, she cooed, "Mmm Snuggle Bunny what did you have in mind?"
"I read a book the other day giving true names from the Victorian census returns. I think Pleasant Titty would fit the bill nicely."
"Mm Snuggly, just the one."
"Hmm no the mother and daughter had the same name so there were two Pleasant Titty's, just like these."
The stalked eyed watchers were transfixed by the revolting sight of Robin's lascivious hands rummaging around the admired protuberances as his laid back companion commented lazily.
"Any alternatives? Anything else just as weird."
Robin pausing for a moment threw himself backwards, legs apart, giving the audience, mesmerised against their will, a full on view of intimate male biology, as he answered, "Well there was Henrietta Prick."
Smoochie, thoughtfully asked, "Any names for you?"
"If you act on that last one I can become Ivor Hardon."
"Really, come on you're kidding me."
"No I'm not, and then..." as he guided her hand suggestively, you can become "Fanny Fuxlonger in the interests of turning me into either Dick Comes or Willy Comes."
"Snuggle Bunny, admit it you're having me on."
"No I have the book, but for now I'd rather have you on me."
At this point the video terminated although any connoisseur of editing might have concluded that in a different set of circumstances Malcolm could have earned a good, if not entirely respectable, income in the porn industry. Certainly his production thus far had had a stunning effect. While the audience was either sniggering or sitting with jaws that could have been scraped off the floor Robin's reaction could be described in two words. Blind panic, as he cried out despairingly," It was a one off." Greeted by the ribald reply from some quarter behind Tom, "More like everything off."
While the majority of the audience had been processing the on screen depiction of Robin's private practices versus those he publicly laid claim to, Robin himself had been undergoing some interesting physical changes, never before had Tom seen someone blush and then just at quickly blench. Unable to control the presentation, he'd spent a furious few seconds desperately clicking the handset as the video ran ever onward, followed by thumping the laptop with a force that suggested it was facing its swansong. When in sheer unreasoning frustration Robin picked it up and threw it against the wall Tom almost saluted its noble death. Robin meanwhile was dying a lingering one as the PowerPoint continued to be off Robin's message, but very much on Harry's. Although Robin by now was virtually speechless his voice, or an approximation to it, continued to declaim as Malcolm having hijacked Robin's own text switched over to use the pre prepared commentary created from the pirated voice imitation software once used in an attempt to fool the Grid staff, and now redeployed and adapted for a much more appealing process.
"Of course.." the false Robin could be heard to say, as the flesh and blood one, now quivering with fury and astonishment, was searching frantically for a way out. Sadly the very well equipped theatre was not living up its dramatic namesake and had unforgivably failed to provide a trapdoor to vanish through.
"Of course once we have the pupils in the class room we need to make sure that they are stimulated. Teenagers complain that lessons area boring and let us be honest, they often are, and worse, totally irrelevant to life as they see and live it. I'm not suggesting that we throw out structured teaching, and curriculum demands mean that in part our teaching delivery is prescribed, but if we can in small ways make parts of the various subjects relevant to their lives then they will be encouraged to extend their knowledge. Even better if we can weave snatches of learning into our everyday interactions with our charges. This is something I would look for when participating in an OFSED inspection. Here are some ideas taken from my personal experience for you to consider."
This was not the most fortuitous choice of words and Robin's recorded final sentence was almost drowned out with a wailing 'Nooooo', as his planned slide again took on a life of its own, this time whirling into a montage of selfie videos retrieved from the home computer plus a selection of still photographs, the range of material designed to indicate that his previously illustrated activity was indeed a one off – or to be more precise a one off in that particular location.
Malcolm, not unaware that the core of Robin's worthy message may lose something in transmission, owing to the distinct possibility that the audience might become unaccountably distracted by the delightful vision that was Robin enthusiastically humping Smoochie Babe while yelling, "je 't'aime, je t'aime", had helpfully overlaid this attractive sight with an arrow embellished with the word 'French'. Before the audience had an opportunity discuss the relevance of this example to their normal classroom practice the scene was replaced by one of Smoochie Babe bouncing up and down on Robin chanting, 'One, two, three, four, thrust, my pussy wants some more.' The arrow saying 'Maths' being supplanted by another saying 'Poetry' as Robin panted in eager response, "Four, five, six, seven, God I think I've gone to heaven.' from across the aisle Tom heard a snort of, "Eat your heart out William McGonagall', just as a further marker stating 'Religious Studies?' flitted across the screen. Other than that the audience still remained silent, wondering, Tom guessed, as to what would flash up next - a not inappropriate figure of speech given the circumstances. What the next feature - a photograph obtained from Graham -lacked in action it made up for in its curiosity value, the tangle of arms and legs an almost blasphemous imitation of the more limbed endowed Hindu gods. While the assembled delegates were trying to work out from this fleshy two dimensional jigsaw which bit of whose anatomy was attached to whom, Malcolm helpfully bounced a digital ball across the screen citing 'Physical Education' with a follow up sphere adding 'Module: Gymnastics'. Carefully timed to allow the spectators an opportunity to recover from the painfully cricked necks acquired when twisting in attempts to imitate some of the movements thus displayed, the next photograph was a straightforward photo shopped prescription for Viagra issued in Robin's name, with a banner containing the designation, 'Chemistry'.
From the somewhere towards the rear of the theatre came the laconic comment, "Well you'd have to be on something." only for the speaker to be shushed as a further clip appeared. Initially the crowd were bemused by a close up photograph reminiscent of those television competitions in which something ordinary was captured from an unusual angle and then gradually revealed as the camera pulled backwards in slow stages until the image made visual sense. What at first sight had seemed to be the strange confection of a two peaked gateau was in fact depicting a topless Smoochie Babe with chocolate covered breasts topped by cream covered nipples. Once this sight was registered the still frame was superseded by its parent video with Robin slowly licking up the calorie laden coating, presumably to assuage his hunger pangs. Before Malcolm's curriculum designation could appear some of the spectators were now audibly guessing and when the subject was unveiled as 'Food Technology' a voice rang out saying 'I told you Clive – now you owe me a drink." As the scene slowly faded away the final caption appeared announcing 'The conclusion of the Human Biology lesson."
Robin who'd been spending his time trying to find a place to hide almost seemed to collapse with relief at the end of this torture, until the voice whirled once more into action.
"At this point in any presentation interest can lag so in my next clips do continue trying to identify subjects touched on in every day intercourse. Having made my point..."
A sentence producing an understandable spluttering from more than one person present; especially when a heckler announced, 'More like shown it."
"I would like now to consider our reaction when having tried to make the act of education interesting our students fail to respond, and are in some situations positively hostile. To my horror I have heard professional teachers declare that the cane or punitive action is the appropriate response. When we react thus we run the risk of governing by threats rather than kindness, we must understand that these students have problems, and greet them with understanding rather than physical constraints which should be regarded as abuse and are not acceptable in any shape or form. If we do need to discipline then once the pupils have accepted correction it is more fruitful to give them some reward for accepting their fault and the punishment. I would now like to share with you some of my techniques for putting this into practice"
By now Tom would normally have been feeling sorry for the victim but the sheer hypocrisy of the man was breathtaking, not to mention the conceit of filming himself for what purpose exactly? An opportunity for private gloating over this record of fading virility; or, equally repulsive, an aid to sessions of self stimulation in Smoochie Babe's absence. While the audience waited agog, this was so much more fascinating than originally billed – free soft porn with no risk of police prosecution - Robin had clearly twigged what was about to take place and heading with the swiftness of one of Malcolm's illustrative arrows towards the two fire exits positioned on either side of the walls beside the whiteboard. His efforts to open first one and then the other were fruitless, all exits having been locked down by an electronic jammer residing in Tom's pocket. Another useful tool from the creative Malcolm, if a real fire or emergency occurred he could release the catch in an instant, otherwise they were all there for the duration. Not that anyone, other than Robin, was showing any signs of wanting to leave. By now Robin, having already demolished the laptop, had given up cowering behind the dais in favour of frantically kicking the unyielding doors which were stoutly rejecting his depredations, causing him to hop around with badly bruised toes.
While Robin was attacking the doors the audience was being entertained by the home video that had first alerted Jane to his peculiarities. From a single angle, a camera film that lacked the artistry of Malcolm - although he had cleaned up the recording in order to better to display its utter filth - the viewers were being treated to the sight of Robin fully clothed in a school uniform of shorts, shirt, blazer, tie and a cap, pretending to cower as Smoochie Babe, moving in and out of view, pranced in an academic gown and mortar board wearing a black uplift bra, stockings, suspenders and a black lace thong as she wielded a long and flexible cane. As if the sight wasn't risible enough Robin could be heard pleading in a squeaky little boy voice,
"Please Miss I'm sorry I was naughty." Thwack
"And what happens to naughty boys?" Thwack.
"Oh no Miss please not that." Thwack,
"You know my rules, so shorts down."
For a moment she moved in front of the camera, but when normal viewing was restored it displayed Robin bent over, legs apart, buttocks bared as the cane came down lightly for six of the best. That over the academic gown was discarded as a hand reached outwards with the intent of grabbing his undercarriage.
"And now what do naughty boys get as a reward for taking their punishment?"
Mercifully Malcolm, preferring to leave subsequent events to the individual assumptions, had tastefully redacted the reminder of this little masterpiece in favour a further clip illustrating how Robin wove educational allusions to the classics into his personal interactions.
Lying on a tiled bathroom floor was a damp Smoochie, her body covered with a material made diaphanous from the water clinging to every curve with Robin standing over her asking,
"Now I've punished you what do cheeky little water nymphs get from Father Neptune?"
Not waiting for an answer he threw off his robe saying, "That's right, a little treat as we celebrate with the liquor of Bacchus."
With that Robin, in full view of the camera, proceeded to anoint his lower regions with the contents of a bottle of champagne and then standing above the still recumbent Smoochie Babe announced,
"A drink from my trident," as the alcohol dripped off his flaccid middle wicket into her gaping mouth.
Out in the audience a set of shudders and more than one loud 'urrgh gross' was heard while the less fastidious were beginning to shout out loud in a manner reminiscent of the less orderly classrooms.
"If you don't want it to shrivel don't pour cold liquid over it."
"Never mind that, I hope you washed your dick first."
"What a waste of a decent vintage - I mean the champagne."
The screen was now displaying a selection of choice images depicting Robin and Smoochie in a variety of peculiar positions and guises of which the most interesting, from an educational point of view, was the final set of frames flicking one by one through a dramatic historical interpretation of Roman slavery featuring Smoochie dressed as a slave girl and chained to a bed, while Robin, dressed as a Roman soldier serviced her in the time honoured manner of the conquering military.
For the first time since Robin had begun his descent to hell the audience had been presented with a choice of activity. For those who preferred not to ruminate upon the knotty question as to whether being rogered by Robin was the reward or the punishment, the accompanying, but unrelated soundtrack provided a series of alternative ethical issues for philosophical consideration.
"Does your wife do this for you?"
"Sadly no Jane is inhibited, and she's let herself go recently, overweight, grey hair, she's given up on life."
"So this is just for us?"
"Of course. Unlike you she doesn't understand a normal man's needs. This is what makes you so special – I'd divorce her if I could but I can't break her, it would be cruel. She's so mentally fragile but what she doesn't know won't hurt her."
Tom, while keen not to give himself away risked a further glance at Oliver, whose earlier gleeful reaction had suddenly converted into an expression of total disgust, while his hands were balled into a pair of tight fists, an effort of self control not matched elsewhere when one appalled woman, in her forties Tom thought, stood up and shouted at the alleged perpetrator of this entertainment,
"You lying toad, Jane's hair is not grey, and she is one of the sanest women I know. She's worth four times that slut you're cavorting with."
It was the signal for a round of cheers and further catcalls, finally spurring the numbed management committee to take a belated action. Having realised that the transmission was effectively an outside broadcast and not willing to desert a fraught situation for which they could be deemed responsible they were pulling out mobile phones. Tom could have told them it was useless. Malcolm having set the software running by now would be long gone, having first locked the door to the transmission gallery. It didn't really matter anyway, they were entering the final furlong, as was Robin. Despairing of escaping through the fire doors he was now sprinting up the aisle to the main door. On the same secret lock down as the fire doors it was a wasted effort but Oliver was unaware of that fact. Consequently Robin, face red with fury as he galloped upwards was felled by the leg that Oliver accidently stretched out in a bid to avoid a spurious cramp. As Robin crashed to the ground the broadcast moved inexorably towards his final humiliation.
"And now having given you a few pointers I would like to add that whatever techniques we adopt it is important that we judge students correctly, that we are not taken in by excuses. A good teacher is not just one who treats his or her students with respect but one who can accurately assess their characters and motives.
The scene and sound recorded in a busy coffee shop in which sat Smoochie Babe, practically unrecognisable with her clothes on, gulping coffee as she groaned to the friend accompanying her,
"I'll have to go soon – I'm meeting him again at his hotel – it really gets tedious all this playacting."
"Then Tracey why do it – I mean you've been letting him fuck you since your sixteenth birthday."
"Tell me about it, he thought his penis would be a nice present for me and my virginity a nice present for him – he's an idiot really – how he thinks I learnt some of the things we do if he was the first and only I don't know, but he pays well."
The reply of her friend was unfortunately muffled but Smoochie Babe possessed carrying tones, "No not an actual fee but he gives me lots of money for clothes, jewellery and other things I need, and after the first few times I've insisted that we go to nice hotels. All I have to do is pretend to be turned on which is easy and I've always got Wayne and Kevin to fall back on when I want a decent poke - and I'm not talking Facebook."
"What about his wife?"
"What about her – I'm doing her a favour relieving her of his lacklustre attentions."
On this triumphant reference Robin's faux voice could be heard once more, his words booming out: "And that ladies and gentleman concludes my talk. I hope I have accurately conveyed my ideas on how to influence pupils' behaviour for the better as we approach our task of turning them into upstanding citizens."
The final touch provided by the reversion to a screensaver depicting a nude Robin encouraging his intimate moveable part to stand to attention.
While everyone sat in a stunned silence, the usual polite applause didn't seem an appropriate response, the chairman moved to the front, fumbling for words.
"Er I think we can safely say that this presentation is unusual. In view of its content we have some ... er...issues we must address before the conference can move onto the discussion groups phase. I therefore suggest that we reconvene in about forty five minutes rather than the usual half hour."
With the upper double doors now unlocked the delegates streamed outside eager to swap notes. The young women who'd been so eager to praise Robin were talking in voices dripping with disappoint, one saying, "I thought he was so nice", in a tone that forcibly reminded Tom of Connie Booth's reaction to the Lumberjack Song from Monty Python. Tom easing his way out as unobtrusively as possible made his way to the Gents where he'd arranged to met up with Malcolm, the latter eager to know how the later parts of the presentation had been received. Before they could speak they were interrupted by the unlooked for arrival of Oliver, who entered, and after a swift glance to check they were alone, said without preamble,
"I thought so." After a searching stare at Malcolm he declared, "I remember you from the hospital and I'm guessing that you are one of Harry Pearce's men." Malcolm's look of surprise amused him as he added, "Spies hide, teachers note and remember faces. As a friend of Jane I've no intention of giving you away but I would like to know exactly why Harry chose such a public, humiliating revenge."
Tom and Malcolm exchanged looks and then with a nod from Tom Malcolm outlined everything, beginning with the blackmail attempts on Jane, the damage to Graham and the attempt on Catherine that Harry had confided to them on the previous day. He added as an afterthought, "I assure you none of the footage and photographs are falsified – other than the Viagra one, and he does have a prescription for it."
Oliver pursed his lips in a soundless whistle, "Well he's certainly destroyed Robin. I told Jane I'd help her so you can rely on me to ensure that if anyone tries to damage her by association I'll do my best to smooth matters over. Fortunately a number of persons here know her quite well and would be appalled by what they heard and saw." Gathering his thoughts together he asked, "What happens now, I mean does this little opus reappear..."
Malcolm shook his head as he produced a hand held device."No the file I fed into the gallery computer was encrypted and I've already destroyed it remotely. Nothing has been recorded as I disabled the CCTV for the morning. Providing Robin agrees to Jane's terms for the divorce that production will never be seen again."
Oliver indicated his grasp of the true situation with a slight twitch of the lips as he commented wryly, "I suspect you mean Harry's terms, and I think that Robin will be investigated by the teaching council in any case. "
With the post coffee post presentation aftermath beginning to affect bladders adversely the Gents was becoming crowded, forcing the three of them outside into the public area, where Oliver guided them towards the refreshments, "Pretend you're really here for the conference and then slip out when everyone heads off to their groups." Coffee cups in hand they moved into the sparsely populated foyer, containing a couple of exits through which Malcolm and Tom could easily vanish. Pulling his card out of his pocket Oliver handed it to Malcolm "My number if Harry needs any help at all in mopping up."
At this juncture Robin emerged, escorted out of the lecture theatre by the committee, his demeanour that of a man who'd just been executed but having somehow mysteriously survived the experience wished he hadn't. Having recovered somewhat from the recent events the words floating over to them implied that despite all the broadcast evidence to the contrary he was still attempting to establish his innocence, "I've been set up." The committee remained silent although their intent was clear, no argument would be brooked; they intended to see Robin off the premises as soon as possible, if not earlier.
Once the committee members appeared they were instantly pounced upon by various delegates seeking comment and guidance. With their attention distracted Robin's frantic unbelievable insistence that he was the victim of a conspiracy was heard only by the conveniently deaf trio of Tom, Malcolm and Oliver. Any response by them being rendered superfluous when one of the white coated waiting staff suddenly emerged from behind the table bearing the coffee urn and confronted him,
"You set yourself up you total prick. And since my father's not here this is for him." Unlike Smoochie Babe's pretend whacks Robin found himself on the receiving end of a nicely delivered forceful punch on the nose that sent him reeling backwards. Graham hadn't quite finished as he added, "And this is for Catherine, trying to seduce your stepdaughter, git." Referencing his loving reunion with his father Graham followed through with a firm kick to the Robin's groin. "Don't you ever ever come near any of us again." With a parting punch he turned, winked at Malcolm, and exited before anyone could even think about capturing him. Watching Graham's unscheduled intervention it occurred to Tom that if he was anyone other than his own son Harry would be recruiting him. Combine his covert spying on Robin, his smuggling himself into the building unseen, add an excellent fighting ability, and you had potential officer. He did however doubt that Harry would willingly see Graham follow in his own footsteps, he knew too much about the risks. Just as well perhaps, could section D cope with two Pearces, especially the additional father son dynamic of the old, wily, gently age weakening, stag attempting to stand firm against the vigorous pretensions of the young buck. Perish the thought. Tom was jerked out of this nightmare of a day dream by a gentle nudge from Malcolm. Invisibility beckoned.
Robin suffering from a maltreated nose and bent double with pain managed to demand, "Send for the police I know his name and I want him done for assault." With the committee, who had no desire to publicise the debacle of today any further, shaking their heads as vigorously as Pontius Pilate Robin twisted round to Oliver with a near plea,
"Oliver!"
Oliver before replying checked, but as he'd expected Malcolm and Tom, as befitted spooks of their standing had melted away soundlessly. Unblinking he fixed his eyes upon Robin and the committee in the eye as he asked indignantly,
"Er what assault? I don't think any of us saw anything. But we did all see you fall over trying to run out of the lecture theatre."
For those who might wonder William McGonagall was a Scottish Victorian poet(?) whose efforts made doggerel look good, his work was so bad he's famous. The book Robin referred to is 'Potty Fartwell & Knob: Extraordinary but True Names of British People' by Russell Ash. I've only altered one first name slightly, that of Ms Fuxlonger.
Thanks for reading and if you have a moment feel free to review.