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Authors: Tricia Bennett

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BOOK: The Trouble with Polly Brown
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Chapter Three

THE EULOGY OF STANLEY HORLICKS

M
R
. E
DWOOD
B
ATTY
, the school's most excellent and formidable headmaster, stood silent and solemn for a whole five minutes while he waited for each and every noisome pupil to settle down, along with all idle and mindless chatter to cease. While waiting, he chose to raise a hand to his face and began rubbing his chin with the tips of his fingers as though checking that his razor had done a thorough job in removing all unwanted stubble. This man knew with great assurance that cleanliness was indeed the prerequisite to true godliness, so for his face to show anything of a six o'clock shadow would have been most indelicate and embarrassing for the poor man.

Seemingly satisfied that he had shaved his chin to within an inch of pure perfection, he rewarded himself with a smug grin, affirmation that his face had not only survived the shave without mark or blemish but that also it now felt as soft as a newborn baby's bottom. With his chin inspection over, Polly watched as he then moved with a show of great decorum toward the middle of the stage to stand like a powerful politician behind the cedar wood podium. Removing his hands from his jacket pockets, he then clasped both sides of the stand for support as over his horn-rimmed spectacles he looked down into the sea of youthful, spotty faces that served to fill the large auditorium like tightly packed sardines in a can to well over its total capacity.

“Snodgrass, remove that foul and loathsome gum from your overworked orifice immediately! Then come and see me in my office at morning break,” he sternly ordered.

All over the hall great volumes of chewing gum were instantaneously swallowed down as scarlet-faced pupils turned to focus their attention on their fellow chum who, having been caught illegally chomping, was now rather unfavorably in the limelight. A heavy-set Snodgrass immediately went a deep purple as he struggled to his feet. Removing the chewing gum from his mouth, he then clumsily headed off toward the nearest bin to dispense with a large lump of the offensive sticky substance.

The headmaster waited patiently until he returned to his seat before making a loud cough, his cue to let all know that he had something of great importance that they were all about to be notified of. Clearing a lump from his throat, he then began to address the whole school. “It is with the greatest sadness that I am compelled to reveal to all present that our dear caretaker, Stanley Horlicks, sadly passed away over the weekend.” The sound of deep breaths being drawn could clearly be heard all around the auditorium as shocked staff and pupils attempted to take in this very unexpected, sad piece of news.

“Oh, dear Stanley, bless his little cotton socks,” Polly deeply sighed.

“Cor, the old boy's finally popped his clogs,” Molly Sutcliffe's unashamedly loud voice boomed down the line of seated pupils.

“Shh. All of you do as you're told and be quiet!” one of the many English teachers sternly ordered.

“As a school we wish to honor this gentle and meek man to whom we are deeply indebted for his many years of service to this wonderful school. Stanley Horlicks could accurately be termed an ‘old-school' gentleman. From the simplest of acts, such as opening doors for young ladies and teachers to pass through, this magnanimous-hearted man showed consideration for others in everything he did and said. Although I have to say that as a rule of thumb he was not a man given to many words, he still managed to encourage teachers and pupils alike,” said the headmaster, his voice faltering as he struggled to remain solemn and thereby unaffected.

Polly, who for once in her life was drinking in every word the headmaster uttered, began to furiously nod her head in agreement. She then turned to the girl on her left and whispered with a sigh, “Oh, if only everyone knew just how happy he is now, they would never be this sad.”

“Shh, maggot face, or you'll get us both in trouble,” the very irate fellow pupil with the ginger hair rather nastily snapped back.

Polly sniffed as under her breath she muttered, “Eleanor Boodle-butt, you needn't be so jolly rude!” She then huffily folded her arms, at the same time moving farther back on her seat as she redirected her full attention to the headmaster's touching and very endearing speech regarding dear Stanley.

“I have to say that one of Stanley's many talents was that he could rather cleverly spot an illegally disposed-of lump of chewing gum stuck under a table from as far away as twenty or even thirty meters for that matter.”

Embarrassed titters followed by smatterings of laughter quickly broke out around the hall as countless pupils privately conceded to being among those guilty of such a deplorable act of gross misconduct. Polly noticed that Mr. Batty paused to draw breath while shrewdly observing his pupils to make quick mental notes of those laughing the loudest, as these were obviously the worst offenders. For the first time in history he now knew each and every culprit by name!

Clearing his throat once again, he then continued to proceed. “As Stanley went about his daily cleaning tasks, this man was meticulous in all he did. He never looked upon his job as though it were something beneath him. On the contrary, he did everything to the best of his ability, yes, with excellence and pride, and all this despite his poor health. Sadly, I never had the time to get to know Stanley properly, as my job dictates that I must get forty-eight hours out of each twenty-four-hour day, but while sifting through the school archives I discovered a few very interesting facts concerning our now dearly departed school caretaker.

“Stanley served his country well by enlisting into the military when World War II broke out. This exemplary and very brave young man went on many harrowing missions but was eventually forced to leave the services after sustaining terrible leg injuries whilst in the trenches in France. Stanley was hospitalized in a military facility for almost a year as he struggled to learn to walk again.

“With his shining military career over, he was forced to take what might seem to man y as a very low and menial job, for it was at this stage of his life that he became this school's most cheerful cleaner. But Stanley's story does not end there, for the school records show that a number of years later saw our great and mighty country battling with some of the most severe and terrible storms she had ever witnessed. These ferocious storms destroyed whole villages and caused serious flooding and inestimable damage throughout our great land. Sadly, many great landmarks were lost forever, and countless families were not only uprooted but also lost everything, including beloved members of their families. Amidst all this confusion and crisis, dear Stanley, on discovering that the school's roof had been ripped off and other parts of the building had been severely damaged, willingly chose to set up home in one of the school outhouses and refused to leave the site until the school had been completely renovated and restored to its original glory. To this day his little stove, tin kettle, and tea-filled caddy remain in the outhouse as a visual reminder of this humble man's life.

“Yes, my friends, this is a story of a remarkable and very noble gentleman who never felt the need to blow his own trumpet but spent his entire life putting others first. I hasten to add that we could all do well to learn something from this quiet-spirited, unassuming man. And so I for one fully intend to be at his funeral, if only to let his family know what a special and outstanding person Stanley Albert Horlicks truly was. This earth will never quite be the same without him, so may he rest in pieces….er, I mean in peace.”

The sound of sniffling and snuffling could clearly be heard all around the hall as teachers and pupils brought out a tissue or two to wipe away a tear or blow a troubled nose as it finally dawned on all present that dear, dependable Stanley really wasn't ever coming back.

“Stanley leaves behind a widow, Edith, five children, and I believe some twenty-six grandchildren in all. It was Stanley's express wish that instead of flowers, all donations should go to charities that help servicemen. Personally speaking, I cannot think of a more worthy cause than to honor those men and women here and abroad who risk their lives daily in order to protect us and in doing so keep our world both safe and prosperous. We will therefore be looking to give a handsome donation to such a truly worthy cause.

“Finally, I have been in touch with Father Constantinople, and he has yet to confirm the date and time of Stanley's funeral, details of which will be posted as soon as possible on the school notice board situated in the foyer. May I use this occasion to remind all pupils present that, as the funeral will be taking place during school hours, if any among you wish to attend, then I most certainly will require a written letter of permission from your respective parents. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” was the quick response from all the pupils seated in the auditorium.

Mr. Batty took a deep breath and jangled a bunch of keys that were deep in his trouser pocket. To Polly it looked like he was privately congratulating himself on a speech well given. He was about to turn away from the podium when he suddenly turned back around as though he had absentmindedly left out something important that he needed to say. “However, before I dismiss you all from this assembly, I do have one final request. As Stanley's departure has been so sudden and unexpected, we have not had the time or the wherewithal to find a suitable replacement to take up the position of cleaner. So until such times as we do, I would like to humbly suggest that previously guilty parties should resist all further carnal and most inconsiderate acts of dispensing their lumps of chewing gum under the furniture. Instead, it would be much appreciated if you would be more thoughtful and opt to discard this undeniably revolting stuff in the bins provided. Thank you. You are all dismissed. Now please exit the hall in a quiet and orderly fashion.”

Polly stood up to leave the hall and was very happy to suddenly catch sight of her younger brother James as he too stood in line waiting his turn to leave the hall and get to his classes. Once again she broke the school code of conduct, which was never to leave your class line, but Polly, being Polly, seemed always to be more moved by the emotion of the moment in preference to the cold, harsh rules of school officialdom.

She thought nothing of the consequences as she broke with school code to leave her class line and race over to speak to him.

“Psst, James. Let's meet up at lunch break,” she gently whispered. James pulled a face as if to say he did not fully believe she would do as she said.

“Promise?” he mumbled loudly.

“Yes, I promise,” she replied, giving him a meaningful look, as she was most eager to get his full consent.

“Well, that would be nice. I'll save you a seat,” he said, still holding back as he forced a half-hearted smile.

Polly grabbed hold of his arm and responded by giving him a full smile. “See you at lunch break,” she said, giving his arm a friendly tug.

“OK, Polly. See you at lunchtime, and try hard not to be late.”

Chapter Four

ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL

P
OLLY RACED BACK
to join her line as her class slowly filed out of the hall and headed toward their first class of the day. She remained true to form as she wandered down the long corridors, deep in anxious thought and therefore totally oblivious to anything and everything going on around her.

However, today of all days was going to change that for good, for suddenly she was rather rudely interrupted by a complete stranger, who not only had the sheer audacity to sidle right up to her but then rather rudely began to interrupt her private and most important chain of thought. “Sorry to be such a nuisance, but please could you point me in the right direction? I am supposed to be joining a physics group, and you seem like a really friendly face.”

Polly responded by raising a disturbed eyebrow before turning full circle to scrutinize his face in a manner that might suggest he were merely some out-of-focus photograph pinned on a wall.

BOOK: The Trouble with Polly Brown
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