Mr. Benson’s funeral was a formal affair. He was our Headmaster until he got killed in a car accident on his way to school two weeks ago. Karma did it.

Us senior boys weren't too upset. He was such an inflexible stickler for ‘doing one’s duty’ and academic excellence and dress standards. You know, all that boring shit. No sense of humour, either. Couldn’t tell a joke or take one. Never even cracked a smile – not a flicker – when we jacked up his pride and joy, his 1974 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia, and stole his wheels. We were all pissing ourselves laughing in the bushes.  

We got the cane of course. Benson was always caning somebody, especially the younger boys – he made them pull their pants down before he whacked them. 

We put the tyres back on his vanity-Volksie after we were caned. Shallow Hal and Seamus helped us. That’s Mr. Haldane, the sports master, and Mr. O’Flaherty, the drama master. 

A few weeks ago I’d overheard Benson tell the Deputy Head that sports and plays were a waste of time: “For the shallow and the shameless”. That’s how the nickname ‘Shallow Hal’ came about for Mr. Haldane – but we say it with a smile, not a sneer. And we call Mr. O’Flaherty ‘Seamus’. He likes it – says it was his da’s name.

Anyhow, at Benson’s funeral yesterday us seniors had to form an honour guard. All the masters from school were decked out in their academic robes, looking like a bunch of sombre old crows. The English master told us in class a while ago that a collection of crows is called a ‘murder’. 

That might be quite appropriate. It made me wonder whether Mr. Haldane and Mr. O’Flaherty tightened those wheel nuts well enough.