31

As I was in limbo, so to speak, I decided to go to the library and play around with some texts and ideas for my class. I was really getting into this teaching bit now. I got a real kick when any of them cleared a hurdle and they really appreciated my help. I was also learning a lot about the English language and about teaching: simple things like parts of speech and tenses. In fact, incorrect tense usage and adverbs annoyed me when I was listening to football pundits and they said things like, ‘And he run quick up the side line.’ I would find myself saying, ‘No! He ran quickly.’ Silly really, the guy on the TV couldn’t hear me. Because of this misuse of the English language I longed for the time my gran used to talk about, when the announcers on radio and television were posh. Well, she knew and I knew they weren’t posh; they just used correct pronunciation, and grammar. It’s amazing how teaching highlights little things that start to make a big impact on you, or perhaps it’s being in prison that does that.

In terms of teaching, I found that it was better to never ‘tell’ when you can ‘ask’. I would never tell my students when they were incorrect; instead, I would ask them what they’d done correctly and what they would do differently next time, reinforcing what they could do and targeting to correct the things they knew they didn’t have correct without me stuffing it down their throats as had often been done to me at school. This was stuff I’d learned in Behaviourist Learning Theory at university and it worked.

As I passed down the passageway into the library, I heard the toilet door behind me close. I was being followed. I turned to find myself facing Pete Costello and Marty Clifford. This wasn’t good. Pete was facing down the passageway, I suppose to stop anybody coming down, and Marty was facing me.

‘Good morning, gentlemen. Can I do something for you?’

‘You’re a smooth bugger I’ll give you that, Captain,’ said Marty.

‘Thank you, kind sir, but I don’t think you were waiting for me to tell me that.’

‘No, we’ve been asked to teach you a little lesson.’

‘And what’s that, may I ask?’

‘The first lesson is coping with pain and the second lesson’s for you to learn to do as you’re told.’

I’d expected an attack but not until after the police had left. The tactics here were just plain wrong. Both of these highly fit and powerful men outweighed me by at least two stone.

‘I see. And if you’re successful in the first part of your endeavour do you think there won’t be repercussions?’

‘We can handle Sergeant.’

‘That’s what I like: confidence.’ This sort of situation is a very scary place and fear is the thing that defeats most people, not the strength and power of the opposition. ‘Okay, which of you is going to try me first?’

Marty was looking over my shoulder and the expression of confident antagonism changed. Was it surprise? I then heard a movement behind me.

‘Fought you might like a little ’elp, Captain.’ It was Arthur. Help in these situations doesn’t come much better than Arthur.

‘I probably do, Arty.’

‘That’s good.’ It was big Fred. So we now outnumbered them.

Sergeant came round the curve and faced Pete. Now, that was an encounter I’d like to see.

‘I think we’ve stalemate, gentlemen. What would you like to do, Marty?’

‘I’ll fucking get you, you stuck-up prick.’

‘Okay, Marty, just you and me. Here! Now!’

He’d all the apparent advantages: he outweighed me, he was stronger than me, he’d massive street-brawling experience and we were in a small area so my manoeuvrability was limited.

‘Wrong place, Captain,’ said Sergeant.

‘You’re right, Sergeant. I’d be taking advantage to fight Marty here.’

‘I’ll fucking kill you, you stuck-up prick.’

‘Oh dear, Marty. You’re repeating yourself and using wicked words.’ I spoke like a disappointed mother talking to her small child.

He then did exactly what I expected him to do. He rushed me. He charged forward and threw a massive right swing that I ducked, turning to my left and stepping into his body. I grabbed his right sleeve, pulling down with my left hand and pushing my right hand under his jaw, twisting my body and using his momentum to throw him over my right hip. He somersaulted over me: a perfect throw. I released. His head and shoulders hit the concrete floor hard. He wasn’t moving and blood trickled from the damage to the back of his scalp; blood was also coming from his left ear, now that worried me, and there was a trickle at the corner of his mouth. He was unconscious.

‘Hey, Pete,’ I said, ‘I think you better help your mate. He seems to have fallen over.’

Pete was gobsmacked. His mouth just hung open and his eyes were twice their normal size. This was the last thing he’d expected.

‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ I said, looking round. ‘Your support is much appreciated.’ I could tell by their reactions that they were pleased, supportive and more than a little surprised. Me? I was just relieved.

Sun Tzu said in The Art Of War, ‘The key to victory is the ability to use surprise tactics.’ He also said, ‘He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not will be victorious.’ No, Marty was not prudent. I once again knew what Sun Tzu said was right and once again I’d reason to thank Li Tie, my martial arts instructor at school. I could hear him deep in my head: ‘Don’t think, young Master Robinson. Just let it happen. Your subconscious will take the action.’