discussing the gift the governors have decided to donate to the school, were we not? I was wondering about a water-lily pond for the quad.’
‘The groundsman won’t grass-seed the quad until the autumn and then the grass has got to grow. We wouldn’t have the pond for goodness knows how long,’ said the master who ran the gardening club. ‘Otherwise I like that suggestion, but I’m sure the governors will want their present to be on view on opening day.’
‘And so it can be,’ said Mr Burke. ‘I suggest that we get the quad completely levelled and the pond sunk, before anything is done about grassing the rest of the area. There would be no point in digging up a lot of new turf to sink the pond. There is going to be a plinth of double paving-stones all round the quad and with that and a nice level surface and the pond there won’t be any eyesore and all the grassing can come later. We are making the quad strictly out of bounds to the boys, of course.’
‘If you have water-lilies you need goldfish,’ said young Mr Scaife.
‘If you have goldfish, a heron will get them,’ said Mr Phillips.
‘A heron won’t come down to a space which is entirely enclosed by high buildings,’ argued Scaife.
‘Why don’t we ask the boys for suggestions? Make a good subject for an essay,’ said the junior English master. ‘After all, the school is as much theirs as ours.’
‘Well, gentlemen,’ said Mr Ronsonby, ‘I don’t think this is a matter which can be settled out of hand. Perhaps you would all go away and give it your earnest consideration. I shall call another staff meeting at the end of next week and, if necessary, take a vote.’ He motioned Burke to stay behind as the others filed out. ‘I like the idea of that water-lily pond,’ he said.
‘Well, I can be sure of three votes in favour of it, my own, and those of Filkins and I think Scaife. Filkins can see his gardening club as honorary custodians of the pond. They’ll revel in doing the planting and he’ll see that they make a success of it. He’s got a very tidy little pool in his own back garden, so there’s nothing he doesn’t know about fish and water plants.’
The English master set his essay subject to the second, third and fourth years, as anybody higher up the school was not likely to stay long enough to receive much benefit from any amenity which the governors provided. This was pointed out by the senior English master, who added that, in any case, the fifth and sixth were far too busy with preparing for public examinations to be pestered with an essay which had nothing to do with their work.
The bulk of the middle school, it seemed, favoured a trampoline for the gymnasium or a school swimming-bath, or (a project which the music master had been fighting for years) the formation of a school pop group with instruments and a microphone, all to be provided by the governors.
The staff, meeting with Mr Ronsonby again on Friday afternoon, settled almost unanimously for the lily pond, and Margaret Wirrell was instructed to get leaflets from leading firms (not necessarily local ones this time) and submit them to Mr Filkins. When he had whittled the possible firms down to three or four, Mr Ronsonby promised to bring up the subject at the governors’ meeting on the following Wednesday ‘and see what they think,’ he said. ‘After that, if they agree to give us the pond, they may prefer to get estimates and tenders for themselves, so I shall make it clear that our list merely offers some suggestions. They will like to know that we have taken that amount of trouble over the matter, and that we are enthusiastically in favour of the pond.’
‘I hope the official opening won’t interfere with the school journey,’ said young Scaife in an aside to his friend Marmont.
‘There is no chance of that, Mr Scaife,’ said Burke. ‘The opening will be early enough in the term to avoid any clash. It is not ideal that the journey is to take place in school time, anyway.’ (Mr Scaife and the other masters who were going to Greece thought that it was.) ‘Unfortunately, to obtain the concession of cheap fares, Mr Pythias had to settle for June. Had it not been an outing of high educational value, Pythias would never have applied for school- time leave or had it granted.’
This brought back the missing Pythias to everybody’s mind. His absence by this time had been taken as a matter of course by the rest of the staff, although they had not ceased to speculate about it, but now that his name had cropped up again in this public way, Scaife asked, ‘I suppose there’s no news of him, Headmaster?’
‘If there were, Mr Scaife, the staff would be the first people to know.’
The masters dispersed to dismiss their classes. Mr Ronsonby never held staff meetings outside school hours. There were more reasons for this than mere consideration for the staff. The school was rich in out-of-school activities and the various clubs were held directly school was finished on a Friday afternoon. Friday was the day for the choir with or without the orchestra. The poultry club (with arrangements for weekend feeding) had chosen Friday and so had the chess club and other out-of-school societies. Mr Ronsonby was known to be greatly in favour of the clubs and to look very kindly upon those who gave up their time to run them. He knew, however, that to keep his staff after school hours merely to attend a staff meeting would not only breed resentment among the teachers, but would result in the winding-up of the clubs, for no boy, however keen, would be willing to hang about for half an hour or more, even if the staff themselves would be prepared to carry on the clubs so much later than usual.
‘I shall need to give up my Monday evenings as well,’ said Mr Phillips, attempting a martyred air as he left with Mr Filkins. ‘If choir
‘You’ll be quite popular so long as you ask for last lesson on a Friday afternoon,’ said Mr Filkins. ‘Nobody does any work after break on a Friday. It’s simply a matter of keeping sufficient order to ensure that somebody doesn’t actually burn the school down. Jodley, in my form, is a member of your orchestra. You are welcome to him any time you like.’
‘He is our tympanist.’
‘I’ll bet he is. Has he busted a drum or the cymbals yet?’
‘You know,’ said the junior English master to his senior colleague, ‘when we have the next staff meeting I’d like to suggest to the Old Man that we include some verse speaking in the opening-day programme.’
‘Such as what?’
‘Well, the school is named after Sir George Etherege. Wouldn’t it be a thought if we had some of Sir George’s verses spoken?’
‘Such as what?’
‘Well, I thought of getting the verse-speaking choir to make a rather theatrical bow to the mayoress and the wife of the chairman of the governors — they are bound to be sitting together — and give them the first stanza of
