It’s a book about awkward moments, impossible situations and desperate circumstances; it’s about red faces, cold sweats and serious cringing; it’s about putting your heart on the line and hoping it isn’t squashed by the first train into the station. In short, it’s a book about being a teenager. But that means it’s also about heroes, adventure, excitement, and how that first kiss can turn your stomach, and your whole world, upside down.
Two briefcases arrive at a humble secondary school, accompanied by two boys from a posh private school. Tasked with showing them how the other half lives are three Josephine, Winston and Andrew. They have to guide these newbies through the madness, mischief and miscreants of their new school… without incident. Fat chance!
A briefcase goes missing. They have to get it back. Worse is, they know who has it.
Moose, mayhem and Manchester tart – what’s not to like?
Andrew Batty is an Architect by day designing all kinds of schools for all kinds of people. By night he is generally asleep. In the tiny gap between day and night he finds time to write stories that keep him amused, and hopefully others as well. He was born in a small village near Rugby, where he had so much fun, he forgot about schoolwork, failed his eleven plus, and ended up in a secondary school, instead of the grammar school up the road. Every day the school bus went past a posh private school. The posh kids looked so different to the kids around him. That contrast provided the inspiration for The Boy and the Briefcase and the Moose.
I was educated in both the private sector and state secondary schools during the 1960s. In that time a child's fate was governed according to whether they passed the then Eleven Plus examination which marked the transition between primary and secondary education. This is an examination I failed so I can relate to the narrator's experiences. I also understand the author's teenage angst when trying somewhat clumsily to understand girls.
The narrative is littered with fascinating characters. The teachers were delightfully eccentric. I too had an accident prone physics teacher but I was not fortunate enough to have so many subjects taught by people with such obvious teaching talent. The contrast between the two private school exchange students and the secondary school pupils was well drawn as was the self-recognition of what was expected of them when grown to adulthood. In those days corporal punishment was part and parcel of education but as the decade advanced it was rarely used. Inventing stories to get oneself out of trouble was par for the course and as the stories were related over time the more outlandish they became, which was what indeed happened with the narrator of this book. I loved the way that his fellows came to his aid and joined in with his attempt to mislead those in authority.
I found reading Andrew Batty's story a captivating experience and can recommend it to anyone who enjoys a humorous read, especially those who were educated in the England of that time.
A delightful story which was a complete change from my usual fare and very welcome. Probably of more interest to former teachers than the general public. I needed an escape and it did the trick.