Picture Book Moss Side

Splat! A spoonful of soggy cornflakes hit James in the face. A few moments later, James caught up with Errol and Carl halfway down Broadfield Road.

'What you runnin' for?'

'Nothing.'

After Laura had thrown the cornflakes in his face, James had emptied his bowl over her head. And of course she'd started to cry. Cry would be an understatement. Bawl like she had both her eyes poked out and her fingernails pulled off would be more like it. When he tried to shut her up by throwing the tablecloth over her head, the milk jug spilt all over Felicia's Pop Hits magazine. James didn't hang around after that. In two seconds flat he'd put on his shoes, combed his hair, packed his school bag, taken half a crown from Mum's purse for the washing powder, and was halfway down Broadfield Road. Carl and Errol were not impressed.

'What do you mean nothing?'

'I said nothing, okay?'

Errol and Carl whispered to each other. Then without warning Errol grabbed James from the back. Errol was the Cock of the class so it was no use struggling. But that didn't stop him from kicking and screaming geroff. Carl grabbed one of James's legs. 'Poo,' he said, 'I can smell him from here. Told you he wet his bed again.'

'Geroff,' screamed James. 'Geroff!'

Errol and Carl laughed as they shook James like a raggedy doll. 'Wet your bed, wet your bed,' they chanted, like a football song at Maine Road and Manchester City were beating United one-nil. 'You can't go to Ashton if you wet your bed. Wet your bed, wet your bed...'

James gave up struggling and decided to let them shake until they got bored. Besides it was too late now, it would be all round the class by ten o'clock and all round the school by dinner time, if Carl had his way. So there was no use in doing anything really except to keep his shoes and socks on. While he was at it why not take in the scenery?

(Forever and ever amen, pages 31 to 33)