just for making white leather gloves. These particular gloves were highly prized and sought after by very rich ladies – due to the gloves being so exclusive and rare. His dad had called them ‘the more money than sense ladies.’ As a direct result of his luck, Ma Spruddge would be able sell it and fetch a tidy sum for Barnaby’s treasure. This lucky event left him with a broad smile. He just needed to remember to to avoid the coat pocket when his right hand grew cold.
Barnaby turned the last corner along his eventful journey. He could see the wrought iron school gate just slightly ajar ahead of him– enough of a gap for a single child to pass through safely. It appeared as if the gap had been created by someone on purpose as the gate was routinely wide open at this time of day. He also recognised Beth just heading towards the same school gate. She appeared to be checking her watch and doing some adding with her fingers. Barnaby gave her a welcoming smile and a knowing nod and she in turn smiled back. Suddenly, a thoroughly threatening figure stepped into view. A tall and quite alarming figure with hair combed into a mock Mohican hairstyle. Nigel Rivett. AND, he didn’t look happy.
Rivett had clearly been responsible for the partly closed the gate. He had been hiding and waiting behind it but he now stepped right in front of Barnaby, completely filling the space between the gate and the gate post.
“Well hello Spruddgey, Happy New Year. Have you got it?”
At school everybody affectionately called Barnaby Spruddgey. It was a ‘sweet’ little pet name brought about when all of the other children had one day discovered that Barnaby was quite a tricky name to pronounce. The name stuck like glue. Complaining just added to the frequent use of the name. Strange that they didn’t call him Porridge after all, he ate enough of it. Privately, Barnaby hated the name but at the same time he decided to grin and bear it; after all, they could have dreamed up something far worse.
“Have I got what?” asked Barnaby.
“The sling of course. The sling for my arm.” Rivett squealed impatiently.
“No I haven’t. My arm’s better now so Ma took it away. Anyway, the deal was for six weeks. Six weeks have passed now, haven’t they?” explained Barnaby in a matter of fact manner.
“Yes, that’s right. Six weeks ” replied Rivett abruptly, then added as if in self explanation, “But the last two weeks were Christmas holiday weeks. You can’t count them. We made a deal. I should now get another two weeks use of the sling.”
Beth, having just entered the school grounds immediately before Barnaby, had heard the conversation and being a somewhat nosey sort of character couldn’t help but ask, “What kind of deal have you made? If you’ve made a deal with HIM, you know it will bring nothing but trouble.”
Barnaby whispered, “Do you remember that for the last few weeks at school Rivett had his arm in a sling?”
Beth gently nodded recollecting the event clearly. She was aware of the fact that there were certain words that were ‘lisp safe’. ‘Yes,’ wasn’t one of them.
“Well that wasn’t his sling. It was my sling. Remember I slipped on the Clay Pit on the way home. I sprained my arm. Ma put it in a sling so it wouldn’t hurt so much. When I wore it to school, Rivett saw it and offered me a deal.”
“A deal? What sort of deal?” puzzled Beth.
“He wanted to use my sling so he could get out of doing any writing of course. Fooled Sir completely - didn’t he. He had four weeks off, playing with the clay at the back of the classroom. The deal was I’d get £2 for 6 weeks, £1 at the start and £1 at the end of the six weeks.”
“You really are cunning aren’t you. Thn…. shifty even,” answered Beth, quickly sidestepping a lisp.
“Deal is over now,” mumbled Barnaby turning sideways, forming a hidden fist with his right hand. “I haven’t got it. Ma needed it for something important.”
“You owe me 2 weeks sling time. Where is it Spruddge? Can’t back down on a deal. Everybody knows that.” screamed Rivett, also turning sideways to hide a fist.
“Well, you can’t have what I haven’t got, but you can have this instead,” shouted Barnaby as his punch flew forward in a championship wining right hook. Sadly, it soared straight past Rivett’s left ear and any element of surprise disappeared with it.
“Missed me,” screamed Rivett as his fist appeared from behind his coat, tracing the path of a beautifully formed upper-cut.
“Thwack!” It was the sound of very solid knuckles connecting with Barnaby’s chin, causing him to stumble backwards towards the floor.
A tooth flew out and arched skywards.
“Oh no,” yelled Barnaby, quickly gaining his balance. “I need that!”
“Thtopit !”
cried Beth, using a whole lungful of air as she bravely pushed between the boxers, stretching her arms to the full. Strangely and unexpectedly, Rivett did just that, puzzled, with his eyes almost popping from their sockets..
“What are you doing now?” he asked, staring at Barnaby rummaging on the floor. “What are you doing in those nettles?
“I’ve got to find it,” shouted Barnaby on his hands and knees. “Got to. It’s important,” as he searched through the nettles with his bare hands. “There!” he shouted, lifting something tiny and white from the nettles, quickly placing it in his pocket, right next to the bag of white dog poo.
Rivett then turned his attention to Beth.
“What did you say?” he asked grinning his nastiest cheek to cheek grin. “Did you just say Thtopit? You got a lithp Beth Thaunders? Thaunders got a lithp. Thaunders got a lithp. Thundery Thaunders.” taunted Rivett.
“Don’t you dare call me that. Are you making fun of my dad?” asked Beth, as her hand formed a bunch of snow-white knuckles.
“Yes, Thundery Thaunders. Thund……”
“Whapppp!” as with one almighty swing her fist hit him smack on the nose.
“Why did you do that?” asked Rivett, groaning on the floor, wiping a river of blood from his face. “I was only having a bit of a laugh. You always take things so seriously you do.”
“Thpruddgey, where are you?” asked Beth as she turned, dusting her hands. “Crumbs, look at you.” she said, examining his face. “That’th going to be quite a bruithe. Look at your handth though. They’re red raw. What on earth were you thinking of? What with in those nettleth anyway?”
Barnaby was still a bit dazed and bemused with all the lisping but managed to answer. “Didn’t you see it? A tooth. Not losing than now am I. Cash in hand that is.”
Beth held Barnaby’s hands up to his face. “You were prepared to thuffer like this just for a tooth?”
Barnaby nodded and whispered, “Posh girl……you’ll never understand.”
“Quick.” snapped Beth, turning towards the school door. “The bell will be ringing in a minute.
