Hidden Depths

Chapter 19 - Footer

Bertie always waited until the last possible moment before he got up, but Rich, who was still getting used to the routine, preferred a bit more time to get himself sorted in the mornings.  Yet, having read into the small hours and snatched just a few moments of sleep, it was only Bertie's daily operatic rendition of Morning has Broken that jolted Rich from his deep slumber. 

With less rest than he was used to, and the memory of the tranquil text yet to join him, Rich's first thought was to violently silence the crowing cockerel that was noisily getting dressed on the other side of the room.  Rich threw back his covers with one fist and was stepping out of bed to get busy with the other when there was a knock at the door. 

'Come in if you're beautiful!' Bertie called out, oblivious to the physical danger he was in.  A strong-looking junior housemaster poked his head round the door to reveal the biggest cauliflower ear that Rich had ever seen. 

'Good you're up, bottom field in 15 minutes.  Time for a bit of Footer practice.'

'Footer?' Bertie said, looking pleasantly surprised.  'We don't nooorm-ily play this time of year.' 

Rich thought Bertie's pronunciation of the word normal was anything but. 

The teacher stared suspiciously back at him. 'Life's full of surprises,' he replied flatly, before closing the door.

'What was that all about?' asked Rich, forgetting about the beating he was about to administer.  

'He's just a bit touchy that one.  I named him Ear-normous when he first arrived last term and obviously the fellas all just started calling him Norm for short.' 

Bertie took off his Bluer to get changed into his sports kit, before continuing, 'Being a new Beak and still eager to be liked, he went along with the nickname until some idiot let slip what it's short for.  Turns out he's quite sensitive about that massive lug of his, and he started lecturing us all about how it's, "Just not on, to joke about facial disfigurement."' 

Bertie glanced over at Rich as if the word left a nasty taste in his mouth. 'Honestly you'd have thought he'd have grown a thicker skin playing professional rugby for all those years, but once again it falls to old Bertie here to toughen him up.'

He pulled up his shorts and looked at Rich again.   'He's got to get used to the odd taunt if he wants to carry that monstrosity around with him for the rest of his career. You see, Rich, I'm just doing him a favour.' 

Bertie was now fully dressed and ready for action. 

'Slipping in the odd sneaky Norm now and then is actually good for him,' he continued. 'I'm just like a responsible dog owner worming his favourite puppy!'

Rich had not met anyone like Bertie before and, despite hating him just moments before, he now wore a smile as he hurriedly pulled on his clothes.

                    

***

Rich really needed his sleep, so he was groggily displaying a full bedhead and tonguing furry teeth as he entered into his first encounter with the ancient and exclusive sport of Harrow Football.  Although he had only got up ten minutes before him, Bertie was preened to perfection and, upon being appointed one of the team captains, made no hesitation over choosing Rich for his side's first pick.  

As he was still an unknown quantity to most boys there, Rich had expected to find himself lined up waiting to be picked alongside the uber-asthmatics, fat boys and mud-dodgers.  He guessed that Bertie was just trying to get his new roommate involved, and, by the look of the pitch, judged that no boy, whether well hard or weakling, would be dodging the mud that morning.  While Rich had enjoyed a relatively dry summer in Paris, the English weather had been predictably disappointing and the fields of Harrow had been drenched with rain for almost a month.