Larkham? Basin?’ ‘Oh, Mr Fairburn, you haven’t told us about your fishing trip yet …’ ‘Yeah!’ chorused the second form English class. ‘Oh … ho … you don’t want to hear about that.’ ‘Pleeease, sir,’ cried Larkham. ‘Ah go on, sir,’ whined Basin. ‘All right, all right …’ Phew. The class sat back for a bludge. Once we got him going he’d talk away at least half the period. I scratched out a note to Sue, wrapped it around my rubber and dropped it in the aisle between us. ‘Psst.’ Sue, nodding attentively at Mr Fairburn’s story, reached down to pull up her sock, scooping up the rubber at the same time. She put it in her lap and read it. ‘Sue—Bruce wants me to meet him down the creek this arvo. Don’t think I’m slack, but do you reckon I should let him again? I don’t want to get a bad name. I don’t reckon he really likes me.’ Sue looked at Mr Fairburn, her eyes wide with attention and waited till the teacher cast his imaginary rod out of the window to scribble back a note to me.
