John McGuirk 2

Under the bed in Mill Lane with the slight fear of being caught (again), Yurksaitis and Boot were discovered this morning and sent to see Fr Dazeley at lunch. On the way to breakfast Fr Pateman sidles up to me “I didn’t see you at prayers this morning” “Oh I was Father, I was standing behind Paul Jolley” (by far the tallest boy in the school, and the most noticeable with his ginger locks).
I was on Dicky Dobson’s (Dobbo) table at the top remembering when as a new boy you sat at the bottom and got what was left after the fare had slowly gone down the pecking order, so you were left with the worst bits and the coldest (hot food was only available from year 4 upwards). Bacon was on the menu today so wiping the fat off the tray with dry bread was a great treat, one to which I succumb to this day, which probably explains the heart attack. The food was prepared by the Sisters, and Sisters of Mercy they were not! I seem to recall one named Sister Euthanasia or something like that!

Tuesday the day my weekly magazine (Look in) should arrive, and as letters whizzed by my head to the shouts of “Cook,—King-D—Caine—Coupland—King-E” I spied the tubular bundle, ready to dodge the accuracy and speed which it would come flying towards my head, here it comes, ”Jones” whoosh straight past me, BUGGER, I bet it was some country and western rubbish, “The Okie from Muskogee”?
Lessons were a blur to me, Paddy Kearney who always seemed to be in a grumpy mood, I never understood him, and science only came to life when we were taught by a lay teacher whose name I forget, but who let us cut up frogs and stuff, but by then it was too late and I was too thick to absorb enough to get a decent grade in O-Level.