In week five the one arm bloke got called up to the war which was happening abt this time and so was absent forever (since dead). The whole maths class was mortified and one of the girls in it got up and tried to say a few words of sweetness and remorse. Her name was Emma and her chair scraped on the tiles as she stood and there was a silence so great you could hear the woodlice moving around in the skirting boards. Unfortunately Emma was one of those people who, everytime they say something even remotely poignant or sincere, a load of putrid music would swell up in the background and fuck the whole thing up. As the 1st words came out of her mouth people looked at her and were nearly moved but when the music came in they started to look shifty, looking away, even exiting the room. Jonesey never wept at all and couldn’t give a shit – maths wasn’t his strong suit anyhow.

In wake of bereavement old 1-arm's class was disbanded and the pupils dispersed to other classes – the gigglers separated and confused, Jonesey himself sent off to some part of the school where he’d never been before. Passing up them concrete steps by the dried up lake Jonesey entered the entrance to a big new towerblock in the school, his dirty shoes leaving skid marks on linoleum tiles. What a strange thing time is thought Jonesey and what a strange thing is space . . .

Two hours later he was still reading all the class notices and directions of where he might go, confused by the new building and the flickering lites.

VOODOO ECONOMICS it sed, in room B345.

SLEEPWALKING (Intermediate) it sed in room C69.

ORGANISED CRIME it sed in a different building called the H block.

Over weeks Jonesey took well to his new classes. He prospered in PALMISTRY & PREDICTION, he tried hard in TELEPATHY and new no rivals in NIGHTMARES OF SUBTERFUGE. The bloke what ran that class called Jonesey a star pupil and the gigglers looked on him with new eyes and his quips from the back never failed to raise a smile.

Like the poets say ‘love is a garden’ or ‘ignorance is bliss’ and Jonesey was no exception to this. The white girl that ran the class in AUTOSUGGESTION told him he should look in the mirror each morning and say “I like you, you’re brilliant . . .”, she told him he should whisper praise to his furniture, his telephone and his car. She told him that he should whisper ‘good lies’ to his kids as they slept and that when they awoke they would believe them.