Raising my hands and wearing my most malevolent look I saw a slight look of surprise on his face just before a cluster of stars as the first of many fists changed the geometry of my face for a few days.  Fortunately a prefect stepped in which was a relief, because when Frank’s arms got tired he would kick you until his legs ached.  I forgave Frank long before I ever did my uncle. 

One day Frank, an evil little sod called Slick Fullwood, and several other cronies walked into room M1 at the end of the school day and cornered myself and his two other most favoured victims, Horton and Spiby.  Unable to believe his luck “Harrison, Horton and Spiby,” he bellowed into the air.  “Put ‘em in the Bengal Clutch, Frank,” an eager accomplice advised and the entire bunch of them fell around laughing at their wit.  I never did find out what the Bengal Clutch was but a little wiser of the potential danger than my friends I grabbed a chair, opened a window, and headed for the Perth Street bus at a rate of knots.  I briefly saw Horton and Spiby staring like rabbits in car headlights before they disappeared under the weight of the guffawing mob.

With girls in the class my hormones started to become disorientated and G B Swaine became my unwitting mentor.  As the woodwork teacher was taking long term sick leave Boss decided to use these lessons to teach us about the Birds and the Bees, for whose benefit I remain unsure to this day.  On one occasion, after silencing the class with a clap of his hands he picked up a piece of chalk and drew an erect penis and testicles on the blackboard.  As our mouths dropped in amazement Sillett shouted “It’s a prick,” which caused me to laugh so loud that I fell off the woodwork bench on which I was sitting and rolled around in the sawdust squealing and kicking as if in the throws of a fit.  This, of course, caused mass laughter but Boss could see only one culprit for the disturbance and subjected me to one to one counselling in which the line of questioning suggested that it was for his personal gratification rather than for any need of mine. 

My case was not helped when he caught me peeping through a quarter inch gap between the girls changing room doors.  They took gym whilst we had music and, desperate to see a naked female form I rushed down after the lesson and became a Peeping Tom.  How was I to know that the gym mistress was off and Boss was doing the lesson?  He would have loved taking the girls for gym.  He appeared without warning from the boys changing room and caught me red handed.  He later got braver and the girls will confirm that he would burst into their changing room, clapping his hands and urging them to get a move on amidst mass squealing.  I was subjected to further counselling and I can tell you for sure that from my point of view he had far more than a normal interest in the sexuality of boys and girls. (Ted was more graphic than this in his description but it seemed appropriate to tone down his wording - Ed.)

In the spring, just 13, I fell in love for the first time.  A small, pony tailed girl called Lyn took a shine to me and we used to lie on the school field and snog brazenly.  She was overheard telling a friend that she was worried that I might have a cosh in my pocket.  It must have lasted three whole weeks until a spotty bespectacled lad called Haines won her affections.

 Not too long after I had my first sexual experience, although I confess to being alone at the time.  This may have been the catalyst for a deterioration in my eyesight which came to a head when I was unable to read the three essay titles on the blackboard that were to be the subject of that night’s homework.  When asked to dictate them, my sidekick Jasper Jewel, invented three fictitious story lines and I wasted an evening writing about why hamsters made good pets.  He would think nothing of offering you a piece of orange and then shouting “Please Miss, Harrison’s eating an orange”.  Two years later he was to set fire to scrap paper in the empty desk I was using and got me branded as a pyromaniac with the resulting confiscation of my five Park Drive and lighter. 

Maybe if I have time I will write about 1960-62 but Central School was just a memory by then.  My year was the last intake.  And if Boss had a few sexual cravings he ran a good school that knocked an education into us even if we couldn’t see it at the time.