The Charmed Life Of Danny Murphy - 9. Chapter 9

"With all due respect, Mr Griffiths," said Bill, "before Herbert Byron actually leaves this dining room with you, I think you should hear what I have to say on behalf of the rest of the ex-pupils in this room."

"Is that so, Mr Lewis? Well, please be quick about it, because we have a busy schedule this afternoon."

"Simply this, Sir. We have been informed that you will not be allowing Mr Byron to attend the prize giving in the theatre this afternoon."

"That is quite correct, Mr Lewis."

"Well, in that case, Sir, I regret to inform you that well over half of the other ex-pupils who are also due to attend have informed me that, should Byron be excluded, they will not attend either."

"What!" roared Mr Griffiths, his face going red with rage. "A boycott? You of all people have to audacity to threaten me with a boycott?"

You could have heard a pin drop once the echo of his roar faded away. He looked as though he was in danger of bursting a blood vessel.

"I'm not threatening you or anybody else, Sir," continued Bill in a calm and steady voice. "I'm simply, in my capacity as ex Head Boy, telling you what others in this room have already told me."

A murmuring of assent went around the dining room.

"He's certainly got balls," whispered Jock. "I wouldn't have believed he had it in him."

"Yea. Old Griff must be wishing he'd chosen someone else as Head Boy now," I whispered back.

"Silence!" roared Mr Griffiths.

His head swivelled as he looked around the room at us all.

"Is this true?" he demanded. "Have you all descended into a state of total barbarism and anarchy?"

"Again, with all due respect, Mr Griffiths, I would hardly describe being prepared to stand up to perceived tyranny and injustice as barbaric or anarchic," Bill said, still keeping an even and reasonable sounding voice.

"I love it," whispered Jock again. "Could be taken straight from the Rugby Union rule book. 'Always treat the referee with respect.' That with all due respect line always throws them."

"You've said enough, Mr Lewis. I want to hear it from the others."

He swept his eyes around the room again.

"Right! Let's see which of you is man enough to tell me to my face instead of getting others to do your dirty work for you. Who amongst you who think it would be in your best interest to disrupt this afternoon's proceedings? Come on! Hands up all those of you who agree!"

I half rose my hand. As did a small number of others. Indeed one or two even rose their hands completely. But there was something that just didn't seem right, although I couldn't immediately put my finger on what exactly it was.

"You've got to hand it to him. He's good," whispered Carrots. "Don't ask a straight question. Confuse your opposition."

Suddenly it dawned on me. I noisily pushed my chair back from the table and rose to my feet.

"With all due respect, Mr Griffiths, you have not asked the correct question," I said.

He gave me a look of utter disdain.

"Is that correct, er…." he said, hesitating over the next word, "boy?" he finished. It was obvious he had no idea what my name actually was.

"Yes, Sir," I replied, trying not to let my voice betray the nervousness I was feeling.

"Then, in that case, perhaps you would be so kind as to tell the assembled gathering just what question you think I should have asked," he continued, in a sarcastic sounding voice.

"I believe the correct term should have been boycott this afternoon's proceedings rather than disrupt them, Sir. Either that or withdraw from them. Because if we were not actually there, we wouldn't be in a position to actually disrupt the proceedings."

I paused to gather my thoughts together. There was a little subdued laughter from others in the room. Mr Griffiths looked ready to reply.

"But, more importantly," I quickly continued before he had the chance to interrupt my flow, "I don't think it is a case of what's in our own best interests. After all, the examination certificates are our property whether we receive them publicly or privately. Therefore, I think that your question should have asked whether we feel that withdrawing from the public part of the ceremony might be in the best interests of natural justice."

I stood there feeling exposed. The headmaster simply stared at me. Murmurings of assent started around the room.

"Silence!" said Mr Griffiths again, and the murmurs immediately stopped. I felt my cheeks reddening.

"Your name, boy? Who are you?"

"Daniel Murphy, Sir. Upper Sixth Science 2."

"Very good, Mr Murphy. So you think I should rephrase my question, do you?"

"Yes, Sir. I do."

"Okay. Then I shall ask the question this way. Hands up all of you who think it would be in the best interest of natural justice to withdraw from this afternoon's proceedings."

I immediately raised my hand. I could also see lots of other hands also being raised. It was difficult to be sure without looking round, but it looked as though possibly as many as three quarters of the people in the room had a hand in the air. Interestingly, I noticed that even Bill had raised his hand. Even more interesting was the fact that Lowry had not.

"Interesting to see that you, Mr Lewis, would support this act of rebellion," Mr Griffiths said coldly. "Perhaps it was a mistake on my behalf to have selected you as Head Boy last year."

"With respect, Sir, I am not, as you put it, supporting an act of rebellion. I am simply giving my honest answer to your question. I personally believe it is unjust to exclude Herbert Byron here from this afternoon's proceedings simply because his mode of dress and the length of his hair does not meet with your approval."

"You know as well as I do what the school rules have to say about hair length. And the letter inviting you all to this afternoon's proceedings made it quite clear that you were all expected to be wearing neat attire."

"With respect, Mr Griffiths, Sir, I would like to make two points," replied Bill. "Firstly, the school rule regarding hair length applies only to the actual pupils of the school. Neither Mr Byron here, nor myself, nor any of the sixty or so others currently present in this room, are actually pupils here. And my second point, Sir, is this. Although Herbert Byron's attire may appear to be a little unusual, it would be an untruth to actually say that it is anything but neat."

Mr Griffiths stood his ground. He was obviously not ready to concede defeat yet.

"Just as interesting as the fact that so many of you seem to be hell bent on this act of juvenile delinquency," he said, "is the fact that Mr Byron himself, the very person against whom you all seem to think an act of injustice is being carried out, was one of the few people in the room not to raise his hand. What do you have to say to that, Mr Lewis?"

"Absolutely nothing, Sir. Perhaps you should direct that question to Mr Byron himself."

"Well, Mr Byron?" barked the headmaster. "What do you have to say for yourself? Why did you not support your so-called supporters?" It almost seemed as though he thought that he could bully us into submission by his loud and angry sounding voice.

"To be honest, Sir, I didn't even realise that your question had applied to me. As you have already made it quite clear to me that I am not welcome at the ceremony, I didn't realise that a question about boycotting it could have been directed at me, or even apply to me."

A titter could be heard going around the room as a result of Lowry's answer.

"Silence!" shouted Mr Griffiths. "But it is because you have asked them to support you that they are now threatening this boycott. Am I correct, Mr Byron?"

"Absolutely not, Sir. The first I heard of it was from Mr Lewis here just before you entered the room. I was actually telling him that I didn't think it was a good idea…"

"Ha!" interjected the headmaster. "And there we have it in a nutshell! The so-called injured party does not want this threatened boycott, Mr Lewis. End of story."

He beckoned Lowry with his finger. "Come with me, Mr Byron."

Lowry went across to the headmaster, who took him by the arm and started walking out of the door with him.

A stunned silence settled on the room. None of us could believe this was happening.

Just as Mr Griffiths was about to let go of the door and allow it to swing closed behind him, Jock pushed back his chair so violently that it clattered noisily to the floor behind him, and rose to his feet.

So...
Will Mr Griffiths win the day? Or has Jock got something up his sleeve that might make him change his mind 
Hopefully we'll find out the answer to that in the next chapter.