As Malcolm walked the corridors on the way to Mr Ramsay’s office, he was sure of one thing. He was a Scientist. If this whole film debacle had taught him nothing else it had taught him this. Sure, he was other things too. He was a son, and a friend, a teenage ball of confusion, a hormonal maelstrom and a failed lover; but most of all he was a Scientist. That’s why he felt so lightheaded, laptop under his arm, the clip digitised and ready to play. Malcolm was coming home. Home to Science.
Malcolm knocked on the principal’s door and let himself in without being invited. Mr Ramsay, who was in a meeting with the ailing Ms Margin, Head of Economics, did not look impressed. Not impressed turned quickly to furious when Malcolm, ignoring them both, went about setting up the laptop in the corner of the room.
‘Malcolm, what on earth do you think you’re doing? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of a meeting?’
‘Oh, she’s most welcome to stay. In fact, you might want to call in Ms Charters too. She’s come out rather well on camera.’
‘Malcolm, I have no idea what you…’
‘Did you know, Ms Margin,’ Malcolm continued, enjoying the power more than he’d anticipated, ‘that Mr Ramsay here has accused me of being a pervert? Well I’ve got a little something here that I’m sure is going to change his mind. Perhaps you’d like to stay and give your opinion.’
Ms Margin gave the smile-without-understanding she was famous for and Mr Ramsay, finally realising what this might be about, cut in.
‘Ah, Ms Margin. I think it’s best we continue this discussion at a later date. Thank you.’
‘Oh, I really wouldn’t mind, if you think it might be helpful…’
‘It’s sex Ms Margin,’ Malcolm added. ‘I think you might enjoy it.’
‘Another time,’ and Mr Ramsay manhandled her through the door, then turned and slammed it behind him. Pure hatred filled his eyes now as he lumbered towards the student he had once favoured.
‘I have of course made back-ups,’ Malcolm warned. ‘So don’t try anything stupid.’
Mr Ramsay stopped, hesitated and then retreated to his desk.
‘All right Malcolm, what do you want?’
‘No so much. Just let me enter the Science Fair. And maybe you could let me have an interview too.’
‘You realise blackmail is a serious crime?’ Mr Ramsay tried.
‘So how long have you been shagging your secretary then?’ Malcolm replied.
‘Malcolm, I’m warning you, you can only push me so far.’
‘All right then. I suppose an interview would be a bit much. You’re actually a bit disappointing on film anyway. But just so there’s absolutely no misunderstanding, I have here the official entry form, so if you could just sign it here, where it says Principal…’
He placed the piece of paper on the desk and watched as the principal laboured his name, as if every letter was written in his own blood.
‘Thank you ever so much. I will of course do you proud.’