In the Time of Greenbloom by Gabriel Fielding Page A

beautiful. Everything in it, trees, flowers, birds and beasts were doing and being what they were meant to do or to be. When they went out, when they passed the angel with the flaming sword, they did not walk into a wilderness but into a jungle where nothing did what it was meant to do. But if he were to be expelled from the Abbey he would be going out of, not into, a jungle, and nothing beyond its bounds could be more confusing or twisted than the things which lay within it. He should never have been sent there, they should never have sent him there. He got up.
    â€œGet out of my cubicle,” he shouted. “Get out you liars! Beastly liars both of you—get out or I’ll
kill
you.” He stooped suddenly and picked up a piece of the broken basin. They backed away from him as he crouched forward towards them. Above them, in the next cubicle, Figgis’ head appeared; below the crumpled ruff of hair the face gazed down upon them mutely, the mouth loosely opened. Above it, against the rafters of the Browns’ ceiling, the electric light flicked to life.
    They heard the measured thuds of the Toad’s tread; and in a moment, square, warty, and malarial, he filled the doorway of the cubicle.
    The eyes with the yellowed whites moved speculatively from one to the other of them, the square, perpetually sulky face hung above them with dreadful displeasure as they stood there on the wet floor by the bed.
    The Toad spoke:
    â€œFighting eh? Cut along to my study.”
    He stepped back into the passage way and they sidled out and made their way over the cold linoleum to the corridor. Behind them the Toad summoned Fisher.
    â€œI want you, Fisher.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    John and Marston slowed down like dogs hearing the call of their master and the Toad’s Sandhurst bellow rolled down the corridor.
    â€œ
Not
you two. Move on there! Wait for me in the Study.
Double
up!”
    They ran: straight past the entrance to the Greens, the door to Matron’s rooms the bathrooms and the new bug’s dormitory and fumbled windily at the green baize which separated the school from the school-house. John opened it and they found themselves in the Badger’s warm world, a world of red Turkey carpets, oak chests and Church-of-England chairs.
    Down the stairs they padded over the shining stair-rails to the hall and then past the chair with its yellowing notice, DON’T WORRY, SMILE into the Toad’s study next to the dining room.
    â€œShut the door,” said Marston.
    â€œNo, he’ll think we’ve been talking.”
    â€œWell half-shut it then.”
    John closed it as far as he dared and Marston moved over to him.
    â€œYou know what he’ll do tomorrow, don’t you?” he whispered.
    â€œMake us box.”
    â€œYes, and if you say anything about loving-up, I’ll beat you up so badly your Mater’ll want to bury you.”
    â€œSpot will have told him anyway so I don’t see the point,” said John.
    â€œNo he won’t.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œHe thinks I’m gone on
him
, that’s why.”
    â€œThat won’t stop him; he hates me more than he likes you.”
    Marston smiled.
    â€œWell that’s just too bad for
you
, Blaydon.”
    â€œI know it is; but I don’t care. You’re stronger than me and a better boxer, but you won’t be able to hurt me—or if you do you’ll only make me blub.”
    â€œYou wait and see—”
    â€œI
am
waiting.”
    â€œWhen I’ve finished with you, you’ll wish you
were
the ‘Doctor’.”
    â€œI do already.”
    Marston’s lips pursed and he spat out a little puff of breath.
    â€œYou’re barmy, Blaydon—barmy.”
    â€œI know,” said John.
    â€œBarmy Blaydon!” Marston looked suddenly satisfied with himself as though he had made a happy decision. “I’ll tell you what, you don’t really think I