was an idiot because he made everything go wrong for Candide. Coming after Nursery Nurses and during his Stand-to period, Printers Three brought out the worst in him. They had obviously brought out the worst in Cecil Williams who should have been taking them.
‘It’s the second week he’s been off sick,’ they told Wilt.
‘I’m not at all surprised,’ said Wilt. ‘You lot are enough to make anyone sick.’
‘We had one bloke went and gassed himself. Pinkerton his name was. He took us for a term and made us read this book Jude the Obscure. That wasn’t half a depressing book. All about this twit Jude.’
‘I had an idea it was,’ said Wilt.
‘Next term old Pinky didn’t come back. He went down by the river and stuck a pipe up the exhaust and gassed himself.’
‘I can’t say I blame him,’ said Wilt.
‘Well I like that. He was supposed to set us an example.’
Wilt looked at the class grimly.
‘I’m sure he had that in mind when he gassed himself,’ he said. ‘And now if you’ll just get on and read quietly, eat quietly and smoke so that no one can see you from the Admin. block, I’ve got work to do.’
‘Work? You lot don’t know what work is. All you do is sit at a desk all day and read. Call that work? Buggered if I do and they pay you to do it…’
‘Shut up,’ said Wilt with startling violence. ‘Shut your stupid trap.’
‘Who’s going to make me?’ said the Printer.
Wilt tried to control his temper and for once found it impossible. There was something incredibly arrogant about Printers Three.
‘I am,’ he shouted.
‘You and who else? You couldn’t make a mouse shut its trap, not if you tried all day.’
Wilt stood up. ‘You fucking little shit,’ he shouted. ‘You dirty snivelling…’
‘I must say, Henry, I’d have expected you to show more restraint,’ said the Head of Liberal Studies an hour later when Wilt’s nose had stopped bleeding and the Tech Sister had put a Band-Aid on his eyebrow.
‘Well it wasn’t my class and they got my goat by gloating about Pinkerton’s suicide. If Williams hadn’t been off sick it wouldn’t have happened,’ Wilt explained. ‘He’s always sick when he has to take Printers Three.’
Mr Morris shook his head dispiritedly. ‘I don’t care who they were. You simply can’t go around assaulting students…’
‘Assaulting students? I never touched…’
‘All right, but you did use offensive language. Bob Fenwick was in the next classroom and he heard you call this Allison fellow a fucking little shit and an evil-minded moron. Now, is it any wonder he took a poke at you?
‘I suppose not,’ said Wilt. ‘I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I’m sorry.’
‘In that case we’ll just forget it happened,’ said Mr Morris. ‘But just remember if I’m to get you a Senior Lectureship I can’t have you blotting your copybook having punch-ups with students.’
‘I didn’t have a punch-up,’ said Wilt, ‘he punched me.’
‘Well, let’s just hope he doesn’t go to the police and charge you with assault. That’s the last sort of publicity we want.’
‘Just take me off Printers Three,’ said Wilt, ‘I’ve had my fill of the brutes.’
He went down the corridor and collected his coat and briefcase from the Staff Room. His nose felt twice its normal size and his eyebrow hurt abominably. On his way out to the carpark he passed several other members of staff but no one stopped to ask him what had
