Sir is watching you – One up to Sir
It was cheating really. We knew that the smokers gathered by the long jump pits at the far end of the school field, too far away to be identified. They were far enough away to break up the group, to disperse if we approached them. Then they would disappear among the other boys who were playing football or chasing about.
From the classroom upstairs the territory could be clearly seen, like watching a cowboy film, goodies running about and the baddies huddled together as if they were trying to keep warm or stop the wind blowing out their matches. Then I remembered that someone had given me a pair of binoculars as a birthday present.
I interviewed them one at a time: had they been smoking? Had they brought cigarettes or matches into school? Of course not. Then I got them together and described to them what had taken place that morning break. I pointed to them. You took a packet of Marlborough out of the right-hand pocket of your blazer, removed a cigarette for yourself and then passed the packet to you – I pointed at another boy – and you then passed them on to you. You, I said to the next boy, got out a packet of Swan Vestas and lit their cigarettes, and then your own cigarette.
They were amazed and then their faces fell and they exchanged angry glances. After that there were no more smokers up at the far end of the field.
All is fair, it is said, in love and war, but now I am not so sure. I just hope those boys came to realise that I had played a trick on them.
What made it difficult for the teachers to catch the smokers?
What was it that enabled the teacher to catch these smokers?
Why do you think the boys exchanged angry glances at the end of the story?