Nicola Barker - Three Button Trick and Other Stories

At the sound of Tom’s voice from the next room she jumped guiltily and her heart lurched; then in a split second she had grabbed the washing-up cloth and had dropped it over the balls, covering them completely. Tom was saying, ‘Thirty-one across. Vulgar Cockney squeezes ends of these into tube. Six letters. I think it’s an anagram. Any ideas, Selina?’

At this exact moment, a mile or so away, Joanna and John were still eating their lunch of beef and roast potatoes. John had a slight hangover. Joanna had prepared a meal for four but neither of the children had bothered hanging around for it. This made John even more ill-tempered and grouchy. He kept saying, ‘It’s such a waste of good food. Those two don’t know what it’s like to do without. You spoil them.’

Joanna ignored him. She was thinking about Selina and the Dual Balls. She wondered whether she would use them or not. Selina rarely broke her word, if ever.

She cut into a potato and watched the steam rise from its hot centre. She speared a bit of it on to her fork and prepared to put it into her mouth. Before she had done so, however, John said, ‘I told a couple of the fellas about your joke with Selina last night.’

Joanna stared at him, dumbstruck. ‘You did what?’

Her voice was sharp and strident. He shrugged. ‘I know I promised not to but it sort of slipped out.’

She put down her fork. ‘I don’t know why I tell you anything. You’re totally unreliable. I’m sick of you spreading my business about and sticking your nose into everything. This was none of your affair in the first place.’

He frowned. “Well, why did you tell me about it then?’

She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. ‘I didn’t tell you about it, you opened my bloody mail. You have no right to open letters and parcels that are addressed to me.’

He shook his head, confused. ‘You don’t have anything to hide from me, Joanna. What’s the problem all of a sudden? This isn’t like you.’

Joanna slammed her hand down on the table, rattling the plates and glasses and cutlery. ‘I am a woman, John, women have secrets. That’s one of the few good things about being a woman as far as I can see. Now that you’ve told everyone about this thing with Selina she’ll be a laughing stock. She’s my friend, for God’s sake.’

John stood up and moved around the table towards Joanna. His head ached with every twitch of his body. ‘Everyone knows that Selina won’t use those things. She’s not like that. It was a silly idea in the first place really.’

Joanna felt tearful. She shouted, ‘Well, it seemed like a good excuse at the time!’

Then, grabbing her plate, she marched off into the kitchen, where she threw her lunch into the bin.

John sat down at the table again. He felt somewhat confused.

Felicity Barrow received a telephone call from her friend Janet Street on Sunday afternoon. Janet was extremely excited because she had a bit of amusing gossip to impart about one of the teachers at Felicity’s school. Felicity liked to call it ‘my school,’ even though she was only the headmistress.

Janet had a rather puffy, breathy, light voice, and the scandal in her news almost extinguished it altogether. She gasped down the phone, ‘Jim told me that Selina Mitchell has been wearing some sort of sexual device to school and using it while she’s teaching classes.’ Felicity interrupted, putting on her best head-teacherish voice. ‘What on earth are you saying, Janet? And do speak clearly, I haven’t adjusted my hearing aid yet.’ On concluding this sentence she sipped her tea and took a large bite out of a mint-flavoured Viscount biscuit.

Janet gulped. This noise travelled all the way down the telephone line and into Felicity’s ear. Then she whispered, ‘Well, Jim said that it is a sort of vibrating machine which is shaped like the female sexual organs, but convex. It is attached by elastic to the two thighs, I think the elastic goes around the buttocks at the back … anyway Jim says it’s very discreet. What happens is that it is battery-operated and it presses into the vagina while methodically rubbing at the clitoris. Apparently after several minutes this stimulates a sexual climax.’

Felicity tried to suppress the impulse to laugh, but finally gave into a throaty chuckle. ‘Janet, I think what you’re saying is untrue. We both know Selina Mitchell, we’ve both known her for years. I was headmistress at Grunty Fen Primary when she was a pupil at the school herself. There has never been anyone in the school whose dignity, discretion and professionalism I have held in higher regard. Just the other day I sat in on her class and assessed her performance. My only advice to her was that I thought her techniques too staid, perhaps a jot unimaginative …’

Janet interrupted. ‘That’s all well and good, Felicity, but you know what they say, there’s no smoke without fire. She did go away at the end of the sixties, after all. Who knows what sort of habits she picked up then …’

Felicity’s initial amused indulgence at Janet’s news suddenly evaporated. She snapped, ‘Stop talking such absolute rubbish, Janet. I’d certainly have expected that you of all people would be the last to surrender your credulity to the clutches of vicious and totally unfounded gossip. I don’t want to hear anything more about this subject, and if I do hear anything from a different source I will be forced to presume that it originated with you. Do I make myself clear?’ Janet answered breathlessly in the affirmative and the conversation ended abruptly shortly afterwards.

Felicity had been headmistress at Grunty Fen Primary for almost thirty years. The time had come and gone for her to retire but she had ignored suggestions from various departments—chiefly from her husband Donald, who was several years into retirement himself—and had carried on giving her all to the young children of the district.

She took her vocation very seriously. Her main problem was that she couldn’t be convinced that anyone else she knew would be suitable for her job. The ideal candidate would be a woman—she thought that women made the best Heads because they were much more frightening than men—and preferably they would originate from Grunty Fen or the surrounding area. She believed that Fen children had to be taught by people who were familiar with the various interests, problems and subtleties of their character. She knew that Selina Mitchell was keen for promotion. She had been coolly vetted for a favourable reference from Selina herself on several occasions, but nothing had come of it.

Felicity put her feet up on to her foot-stool, took out her hearing aid, leaned back in her chair and took another bite out of her biscuit. She had resented Janet’s news because she felt that anything bad said about her staff reflected badly on the school and ultimately on herself. She was rather proud and vain but disliked these qualities in other people. Selina, she believed, was far too proud and vain for her own good. She was too closed, not sufficiently free-thinking. Felicity found her distant and arrogant. Selina found Felicity interfering and arrogant. Neither side would bow down to the other. They weren’t destined to be good friends, but Felicity often regretted that they had never even managed to become formal friends.

She took another sip of tea and decided to call Selina into her office for a serious chat first thing in the morning. She picked up a copy of the People’s Friend and ran her finger down the list of contents, muttering. ‘No smoke without fire, indeed!’

Selina didn’t dare carry the Dual Balls to school in her teaching bag in case any of the children poked around in it looking for a pencil or a book and came across them. Instead she wore a smart blue blazer with a deep inside pocket in which she carefully placed the Dual Balls before breakfast.