By Adrian Taylor, Aged 11 – Taken from his original script – with no additions or corrections
A quote from the school magazine, “Ruym”, Summer 1958, Volume 23, No. 4:
“The First Form Soccer and Rugger sides have contained a high proportion of boys from 1D. The form is proud of the exploits of Taylor, whose curiosity about a certain little red bell subjected the whole School to attempting to discover the location of a mystery fire.”
It came about like this:
The bell in question wasn’t red, and it wasn’t little. It was big, and old, and brass, with no guard on it: clearly hadn’t been used for years, and definitely hadn’t been used in anger, and wasn’t connected to the alarm system.
So, one Saturday morning in November, following a school football match, I pressed it.
I was right: nothing, not even a tinkle.
The following Thursday, after a Geography lesson, I smugly demonstrated my new-found knowledge, and showed 1D that it was non-functional.
NOT.
Such a clanging and clattering above my head on the recently-wakened clanger, accompanied by hoots of laughter as they ran, delightedly from the scene of the crime.
Me? I just stood, rooted to the spot, mouth agape, when the Geography teacher emerged, in haste, from the classroom: “Run, Taylor – there’s a fire… get outside!”
“No”, I burbled “It was me – I pressed it.”
The teacher clasped his hand to his head, and went back into the room (probably to tell the appropriate authorities to not ring the Fire Brigade).
Outside, on the lower field, all mayhem had been loosened. 800+ boys being shuffled into order by their respective Form teachers: lines were formed in alphabetical order: VIth Form on the right – 1st Form on the left.
Taylor (being a ‘T’) was right at the back of the farthest class.
Chatter and hubbub ceased as soon as the Headmaster appeared on his balcony: lofty, austere, and grim-looking. He was a J.P., and many a felon he had sent to the gallows (or so it seemed to me). After all, the Oxbridge exams were in session that morning (I later learned).
3 words: Taylor of 1D
A pause
4 words: Go to my study.
A snivelling wretch (quite small, as I was quite puny) detached himself from the back of the line, and promptly dropped his Geography books onto the grass. Picked them up, then the Atlas slipped out, etc., picked that up then made his solitary way to the front, up the steps, and through the door (for all he knew, for the last time).
At this point, with the wretch out of sight, the Headmaster smiled, which was the signal for all and sundry to have a good laugh at my expense.
Five minutes later, I was stood, trembling before the beak. He obviously wanted to know why I had rung the bell, and so I told him.
He nodded, and then asked if I had rung the end-of-school bell 5 minutes early the previous Friday.
No, I hadn’t, honest!
And that was that – except that when the Fire Chief came to inspect our Fire alarm procedure, some 8 years later, the Head called for me, introduced the officer, and then invited me to press the proper bell.
He was an awesome fella, and a good sport.