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From beyond the dunes, far off down the beach, Harry could hear the kids shouting and laughing where they swa tidal pools; the sun burned the back of his neck and ears where he lay perfectly still, his chin in the palms of his hands; sand fleas ju to distract him; his eyes remained riveted to the sexual activity of the lovers in their reed bower

At first she see to push his hands away But at the same time she unbuttoned her blouse so that her breasts jutted up naked in the sunlight, their pointed tips unbelievably brown Harry sensed a sort of panic in her, reflected in his own suddenly pounding blood It was as if she were hypnotised, with ’Sergeant’s’ penis a snake where it swayed over her belly - mesmerised into lifted her botto her knees and parting her legs In there, she was dark as night - as if she wore a smaller pair of black knickers under her white ones Black, yes, and then pink where she put her hands under her thighs to open herself for ’Sergeant’

Harry caught a gli, dark, brown, but that was all Cli into her in a eant’ allowed no y off the view The watching boy gasped, felt hirown hard inside his pants, rolled on his side to relieve the throbbing of his genitals - and spotted Stanley Green co eyes full of venom!

On the trail of the lovers, Harry had found a perfect razor-shell, both valves intact and hinged together Now he studiously scraped away sand, ’found’ the shell, slid down the dune holding it carefully in one hand Aware that his coht red, he turned his face away fro not to see him until the youth was al it No avoiding a shon, either ’Hello there, Speccy,’ the bully growled, approaching in a half-crouch, his ar you here, ’stead of pissing about with yourfootball star What’re we doin’ here then, Speccy? Found a pretty shell for Miss Gower, have we?’

’What’s it to you?’ Harry et round him and away

Green moved closer, snatched the double shell out of Harry’s hand It was a shiny olive colour, old, brittle as a wafer As he deliberately closed his fist on it, so it cruments ’There,’ he said, his voice full of an unpleasant satisfaction ’You goin’ to tell on me, Speccy?’

’No,’ Harry breathlessly answered, still trying to dodge past, seeing in hisup and down, up and down, in the reed hollow not fifteen yards away on the other side of the dune ’I don’t tell on people And I don’t bully, either’

’Bully? You?’ Green found it funny ’You couldn’t bully a fart out of a frog! All you’re good for’s falling asleep in class and acting like a big tart! That and getting people in trouble’

’You got yourself in trouble!’ Harry protested ’Gig­ gling like that’

’Giggling?’ Big Stanley caught his arle, Speccy You callin’ irl, then?’

Harry shook hi in every limb, he said, ’Piss off!’

Green’s ged, half-turned, as if to go, and when Harry dropped his guard turned back and caught him a punch at the side of hisblood from a split lip Off balance, he stu a kick when ’Sergeant’ Lane, tucking in his T-shirt, cae and frustration

’What the bloody hell - ?’ he roared He caught the flabbergasted Green by the scruff of his neck, swung him round, aimed his instep accurately at the seat of the bully’s pants and let fly Green yelped as he flew face­down in the sand

’Up to your usual tricks, are you, Big Stanley?’ ’Serge­ ant’ shouted ’And who’s your victih? By God, you’ll be strangling babies next!’

As Green scra sand, the PT ain ’See, it’s not so pleasant, Stanley, when you’re up against soer And that’s how Harry feels about it Right, Keogh?’

Still holding his mouth, Harry said: ’I can look afterStanley, for all that he was a year older than Harry and looked older still, was on the point of blubbering ’I’ll tellaway

’What?’ ’Sergeant’ laughed, hands on his hips as the bully backed off Tell your dad? That fat beer-gut who arm-wrestles for pints with his mates in the Black Bull? Well when you do, ask hiht and nearly broke his ar

’You all right, Keogh?’ Lane helped him to his feet

’Yes, sir Mouth’s bleeding a bit, that’s all’

’Son, you stay away from that one,’ said thefor you When I called you skinny, I didn’t mean it; it was just to point up the difference in your sizes Big Stanley’s not likely to forget this in a hurry, so look out for hiain

’Right, then Off you go’ Lane made as if to return across the dune, but just then Miss Hartley appeared, looking all prieant’ say under his breath He wanted to grin but was afraid it would split his lip evenhis face away hearound Miss Gower, ready for the return trek

It was the second week in August, a Tuesday evening, and it was hot It was funny, George Hannant thought as he et on an evening like this You’d think it would cool down, but instead the heat see the day there had been a breeze, not much of a breeze but a breeze; now there was none, it was still as a painting out there All the heat of the day, soaked into the earth, was coain at his brow, his neck, sipped an iced lemonade, knew that that, too, would soon start to run out of him It was that kind of weather

He lived alone not far from the school, but on that side of it away fro, too oppressive Tonight he had papers and books toeither one of these things, or anything else for that matter He could use a drink but the pubs would be full of miners in their caps and shirt-sleeves, their voices coarse and guttural There was a decent fil at the front and the courting couples in the back rows invariably annoyed hi his atten­tion fro to do

Hannant’s hoalow on a tiny private estate overlooking the dene and its valley where they narrowed towards the sea, was cut off from the school by the broad swath of a ceh perih the place to school eachThere were benches circling huge, gorgeously-clad horse chestnut trees, their leaves already turning in places He could always take his books and papers there

Actually, it wasn’t a bad idea The occasional old-tiet in there to sit with his dog and stick, chewing baccy or drawing on an old pipe - and spitting, of course Rotten lungs were a legacy of the pit; rotten lungs and spines like eggshells But apart from the old lads it was usually quiet in there, away froe’s centre, the pubs and cinean to fall there’d be kids to contend with, of course; what’s a conker without its child on the end of a length of cord? That was a nice thought and Hannant s’s point of view, a hu to throw sticks So why shouldn’t a horse chestnut have a point of view? Which s - and for splitting the see maths!

Hannant showered, towelled hi would only produce rey flannels and an open-neck shirt, took up his briefcase and left his ho the broad gravel path which bisected it Squirrels played in the high branches of the brandy-glass-shaped trees, shaking loose the occasional leaf The sun’s rays ca down froreat brazen ball seemed permanently suspended, as if it never would relinquish the day to night The day had been beautiful; the evening, despite the heat, was incredibly beautiful; and both of thehed the heavy briefcase in his hand) would have been quite wasted Or if not wasted, spent fruitlessly - if there was a difference He snortedJohnnie Miller in a couple of years’ ti his boredo surface areas of circles What the hell was the point of it?

And as for kids like Harry Keogh - poor little sod -why, he had neitherelse Well, perhaps aAs for how much of it lay under the surface - who could say? Hannant only wished he could find a way to capsize the little bugger, while there was still tioing to do or going to be should begin to show in hie seed throw up a shoot, and waiting to see what the floould be

But talk of the devil wasn’t that Keogh there now, sitting on an old slab in the shade of a tree, his back to theoff his specs where it struck through the hanging foliage, had given hi on the chewed steht And Jiht; he’d be at football practice with the rest of the teah - he wasn’t a member of any sort of team

Suddenly Hannant felt sorry for hiot aith it for far too long One of these days he’d go off like that - out of hihed, let his feet wend hi ill-defined paths to where the boy sat And as he got closer he could see that Harry was once again lost in his own thoughts, daydrea away in the cool shade of the tree For sory - until he saw that the book in Keogh’s lap was his maths homework book, whichto work out his punish?’ Hannant said, seating himself on the same slab This corner of the cemetery wasn’t unknown to the maths teacher; he’d walked here and sat here himself on many, many occasions In fact it wasn’t that he was the intruder, rather that Keogh was the odd-man-out here But he doubted if the boy kneould even understand that

Harry took the pencil out of his mouth, looked at Hannant, unexpectedly smiled ’Hello, sirEr, sorry?’ Er, sorry! Hannant had been right, the kid just hadn’t been there King of the daydreah! ’I asked you,’ Hannant tried not to growl, ’hoas going?’ ’Oh, it’s all right, sir’

’Drop the "sir", Harry Save that for the classroom Out here it ave you? They’re what I ’

’The homework questions? I’ve done them’

’What, here?’ Hannant was surprised; and yet thinking about it, it see

’It’s quiet here,’ Harry answered

’Would you like to show ed ’If you like’ He passed over the work­ book

Hannant checked it, was doubly surprised The as very neat, almost immaculate There were two answers, both correct if hiswould be equally important, but he didn’t check that just yet’ Where’s the third question?’

Harry frowned ’Is that the one with the grease-gun, where - ?’ he began

But Hannant impatiently cut hih There are only three questions out of the ten which could possibly qualify The rest concern the unjust? The book’s a new one to me, too Give it here’

Harry lowered his head a little, bit his lip, passed the book over Hannant flipped pages ’The grease-gun,’ he said ’Yes, this one,’ and he stabbed at the page with a forefinger It showed this diagram:

the measurements were internal; barrel and nozzle were cylindrical, full of grease; squeezed dry, how long would th e line of grease be?

’ Harry looked at it ’Didn’t think it qualified,’ he said " Hannant felt angry Two out of three wasn’t good Enough Three wrong ansould almost be better than this crap ’Why don’t you just say it was too difficult?’ he tried not to bark ’I’ve had all I can take of bluff for one day Why not simply admit you can’t do it?’ ; Suddenly the boy looked sick His face shone with sweat and his eyes seeh the lenses of his spectacles ’I can do it,’ he slowly answered; then, more quickly, with acid precision: ’An idiot could do it! I didn’t think it qualified, that’s all’

Hannant believed his earshim, that he’d misunderstood the boy’s answer ’What about the formula?’ he rasped

’Not required,’ said the other

’Shit, Harry! It’s pi tith equals contents That’s all you need to know Look -’ and he quickly scribbled in the workbook:

Contents of Barrel:

314159 x 75 x 75 x 45

314159 x 25 x 25

Contents of Nozzle: 314159 x 25 x 25 x 15

314159 x 25 x 25

He gave Harry the pencil back, said: ’There After that most of it just cancels itself out The divisor is of course the surface area of a cross-section of the line of grease’

’A waste of time,’ said Harry in such a way that Hannant kneasn’t just rank insubordination, indeed in a voice which hardly seeh’s voice at all There was authority in it For aon behind the kid’s glasses, inside his skull? What was the ether-there eyes?

’Explain yourself,’ Hannant delanced at the diagraested solution ’The answer is three and a half feet,’ he said And again there was the same authority in his voice

As Hannant had said, the text-book was new to hih it hi to bet the kid was right Which could only mean -

’You went back to the classroom with Collins after the beach,’ he accused Td told him to lock up, but before he did you opened my desk, looked up the answers in the answer book there I wouldn’t have believed it of you, Keogh, but -’

’You’re wrong,’ Harry cut him short in that same flat, eraer ’Look at it for yourself The first two questions required formulas, yes, but not this one Given a diameter to four decimals, what’s the surface area? That requires a formula Given a surface area to four decimals, what’s the radius? That requires almost the same formula in reverse But this? Listen:

The barrel’s diareater than the nozzle’s The circle’s area is therefore nine tireater Three times nine is twenty-seven The barrel contains twenty-seven tiether therefore contain twenty-eight nozzles’ worth The nozzle is one and a half inches long Twenty-eight times one and a half equals forty-two And forty-two inches equals three and a half feet, sir’

Hannant stared at the boy’s expressionless, alram in the book His mind whirled and it see him to shiver What the hell - ? For Christ’s sake, he was the h’s logic The question hadn’t needed formulae, hadn’t needed maths at all! It was mental arithmetic - to someone who understood circles To someone who could see past the trees to the wood And of course his ansas, ht! If Hannant threw his formulae away, he would have been able to do it too - with a little thought But Keogh’s application had been instantaneous His scorn had been real!

And now Hannant knew that if he didn’t play this right, he’d probably lose this boy right here and now He also knew that if that happened, he wasn’t the only one ould lose There was a mind in there, and it had hell, potential! Whatever Hannant’s confusion, h e forced a grin, said: ’Very good! Except I wasn’t just checking out your IQ, Harry Keogh It was to see whether or not you knew your for as how you’re so smart, how come your classwork has always been so lousy?’

Harry stood up His o now, sir?’

Hannant stood up too, shrugged and stepped aside ’Your free tiet five ht still bone up on your forht, movements stiff A few paces away he turned and looked back A bealasses, turning his eyes to stars ’Forive you formulae you haven’t even dreamed of’

And as the cold chill struck at his spine once h wasn’t just bragging

Then the maths master wanted to shout at the boy, run at him, even strike hiy had gone out of hi, he sat down again on the slab, leaning back weakly against the headstone as Harry Keogh walked away He leaned there for a ht, threw hirave He tripped and sprawled on the close-cropped grass Keogh was disap­pearing, lost a are Hannant felt cold as death It was in the air, in his heart, freezing him Here, in this place, of all places And it came to him now just exactly where and when he had heard soh before, with his authority, his precision and logic Thirty long years ago, almost, when Hannant had been little more than a lad himself And the man had been od

Still treh’s books and put therave

Cut into the headstone, lichened over in parts, the legend was sie knew it by heart:

JAMES GORDON HANNANT

13 June 1875 - 11 Sept 1944

Master at Harden Boys’ School

for Thirty Years, Head the Hosts

of Heaven

The epitaph had been the Old Man’s idea of a joke His principal subject, like that of his son after hie would ever be