HOUSE OF GHOSTS

smallwood manor
victorian country pile turned english prep school
beneath the dutch gable end and twin cupolas
carved for posterity into a cornerstone
the name of robert w eadis fsa
architect 1886
plunderer of eclectic motifs
from farflung eras and locations
a roman mosaic tiled porch
fluted wooden doric columns
high plaster ceilings
sash windows
egg and dart mouldings
wood panelled walls
this place has the lot
honour rolls line the dining room walls
school captains now turned middle aged
1966 j s pratt
1967 h j bowles
where are you now?
at dinner i am introduced to neil
almost immediately i recognise him
from a tv programme i watched as a kid called '7 up'
which revisited the lives of a bunch of english children
every seven years
to see how their childhood class backgrounds
influenced their adult lives
'give me a child till he is seven...'
neil's poignant story was the one that most affected me
between the second and third programmes
this serious thoughtful grammar school boy
has a nervous breakdown and becomes homeless...
along the corridors hang old school photographs
dating back to the fifties
long rows of earnest faces
captured for a moment
before their lives, like neil's
rolled inevitably onwards
i am suddenly back again at the old grey school
among the old photographs that used to fascinate me
the expressions
the hairstyles
the fashions
gradually changing with the times
the hair getting longer and more unruly
the sideburns appearing
the jacket lapels and ties widening
the hemlines rising then falling again...
labyrinthine corridors wind slowly up to our accommodations
past a notice board:
'due to a family bereavement
mr miller will not be able to take golf today or monday'
the ex-boarders' rooms are still furnished with their small beds
fire escape hatches and ladders built into the floor
heaven help us should there be one!
after dinner we play rounders out on the lawn
after a few duff swings at the blue foam ball
i suddenly hit a once-in-a-lifetime rounder
never before seen and never to be repeated
which soars out of the field like a botham six
and over a thick azalea hedge where it lodges
no amount of searching will locate the ball
and we have to stop play and go inside
back to the old grey school
where i dreamed and wished my precious childhood hours away
where i had my first crush
on a young welsh maths teacher called mrs rees
or 'slr' as she was called on the timetable
a pretty young woman who i constantly exasperated
by labelling the base of my triangles 'bass'
now we are all back in room 7 at king edward's five ways
form 3s ('chippy' spencer, the woodwork teacher's class)
edward passalacqua
gavin rebello
paul elkington
ian mack
and co.
benedict mccarthy
later a bbc news reporter who covers 9/11 from nyc
is leading a synchronised class hum
which slowly builds to a loud buzzing crescendo
cruelly burying the voice of an increasingly desperate mrs r
who is powerless to deal with 30 stroppy adolescent boys...
an hour later
there is a loud cheer
neil has found the ball in the hedge after a long twilit search
persistence pays off!
that night
i disappointingly meet no more ghosts among the corridors
instead i sleep and dream
until early the next morning
when i am awoken by the noisy jackdaws
bouncing around in the broad branches of the cedars...