Unseen Academicals

If you knew all the passages and stairs, and if they stayed still for five minutes, it was possible to get to just about anywhere in the university without going above ground. Probably none of the wizards knew the maze. Not many of them cared to know the dull details of domestic management. Hah, they thought the dinners turned up by magic!

A small set of stone steps led up to the little door. Hardly anyone used it these days. The other girls wouldn’t go in there. But Glenda would. Even after the very first time that she had, in response to the bell, delivered the midnight banana, or rather had failed to deliver it on account of running away screaming, she knew she’d have to face it again. After all, we can’t help how we’re made, her mother had said, and nor can we help what a magical accident might turn us into through no fault of our own, as Mrs Whitlow had explained slightly more recently, when the screaming had stopped. And so Glenda had picked up the banana and had headed right back there.

Now, of course, she was surprised that anyone might find it odd that the custodian of all the knowledge that could be was a reddish brown and generally hung several feet above his desk, and she was pretty certain that she knew at least fourteen meanings of the word ‘ook’.

As it was daytime, the huge building beyond the little door was bustling, insofar as the word can be applied to a library. She headed towards the nearest lesser librarian, who failed to look the other way in time, and demanded: ‘I need to see a dictionary of embarrassing words beginning with F!’

His haughty glance softened somewhat when he realized she was a cook. Wizards always had a place in their hearts for cooks, because it was near their stomach.

‘Ah, then I think Birdcatcher’s Discomforting Misusage will be our friend here,’ he said cheerfully, and led her to a lectern, where she spent several enlightening minutes before heading back the way she had come, a little wiser and a great deal more embarrassed.

Nutt was still standing where she’d told him to stand, and looked terrified.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know what you meant,’ she said, and thought: abundant, productive and fruitful. Well, yes, I can see how he got there, worse luck, but that’s not me, not really me. I think. I hope.

‘Um, it was kind of you to say that about me,’ she said, ‘but you should have used more appropriate language.’

‘Ah, yes, I’m so sorry,’ said Nutt. ‘Mister Trev told me about this. I should not talk posh. I should have said that you have enormous t—’

‘Just stop there, will you? Trevor Likely is teaching you elocution?’

‘Don’t tell me, I know this one… You mean talkin’ proper?’ said Nutt. ‘Yes, and he’s promised to take me to the football,’ he added proudly.

This led to some explanation, which only made Glenda gloomy. Trev was right, of course. People who didn’t know long words tended to be edgy around people who did. That’s why her male neighbours, like Mr Stollop and his mates, distrusted nearly everybody. Their wives, on the other hand, shared a much larger if somewhat specialized vocabulary owing to the cheap romantic novels that passed like contraband from scullery to washhouse, in every street. That’s why Glenda knew ‘elocution’, ‘torrid’, ‘boudoir’ and ‘reticule’, although she wasn’t too certain about ‘reticule’ and ‘boudoir’, and avoided using them, which in the general scheme of things was not hard. She was deeply suspicious about what a lady’s boudoir might be, and certainly wasn’t going to ask anybody, even in the Library, just in case they laughed.

‘And he’s going to take you to the football, is he? Mister Nutt, you will stand out like a diamond in a sweep’s earhole!’

Do not stand out from the crowd. There were so many things to remember!

‘He says he will look after me,’ said Nutt, hanging his head. ‘Er, I was wondering who that nice young lady was who was in here last night,’ he added desperately, as transparent as air.

‘He asked you to ask me, right?’

Lie. Stay safe. But Ladyship wasn’t here! And the nice apple-pie lady was right here in front of him! It was too complicated!

‘Yes,’ he said meekly.

And Glenda surprised herself. ‘Her name is Juliet, and she lives bang next door to me so he’d better not come round, okay? Juliet Stollop, see if he likes that.’

‘You fear he will press his suit?’

‘Her dad will press a lot more than that if he sees he’s a Dimmer supporter!’

Nutt looked blank, so she went on: ‘Don’t you know anything? Dimwell Old Pals? The football team? The Dollies are Dolly Sisters Football Club. Dollies hate the Dimmers, the Dimmers hate the Dollies! It’s always been like that!’

‘What could have caused such a difference between them?’

‘What? There is no difference between them, not when you’ve got past the colours! They’re two teams, alike in villainy! Dolly Sisters wears white and black, Dimwell wears pink and green. It’s all about football. Bloody, bloody, clogging, hacking, punching, gouging, silly football!’ The bitterness in Glenda’s voice would have soured cream.