The Person Controller. David Baddiel

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      New pupils at the school, therefore, tended to be frightened of Morris. Which they were right to be. But the person they really needed to be frightened of was Isla.

      Because Morris and Isla Fawcett were the Bracket Wood school bullies. They prided themselves on it. They spent a lot of time working on their bullying style. They had even been heard to talk about their bullying brand. And within that brand, although Morris did more of the actual physical work – he covered Chinese burns, dead legs and wedgies – it was Isla who was the mastermind.^fn1

      “Go away,” said Ellie.

      “I don’t think so,” said Isla, reaching over and turning the laptop screen towards her and her brother.

      “OoooOOOOooooo!!” they said, both going up sarcastically on the middle OOOO.

      Ellie raised her eyes to heaven. “How long have you two been practising that?” she said.

      “About three day—”

      “Shut up, Morris!” said Isla. “Anyway, I see you’re looking for video-game stuff, are you?”

      “Yeah! Are you?” said Morris, who tended, when not exactly sure what to do re the whole bullying thing, just to repeat what Isla said.

      “Well spotted!” said Ellie. “Thank God there’s a photo on the screen so that you could work that out. How would you have known if it was just words?”

      “Very funny …” said Isla. “At least I can see it without glasses.”

      “There’s nothing wrong with wearing glasses!”

      “Oh, isn’t there? Shall we go and ask Rashid? If he likes girls with glasses? Or, for that matter, girls with braces and pigtails and who still dress like they’re in Year One …?”

      Ellie blushed and looked away.

      Rashid Khan was universally considered to be the most handsome boy in their class. More importantly, he was also universally considered to be the nicest boy in their class.

      Now, Ellie wasn’t very interested in boys – she was much more interested in video games – but something about Rashid did make her feel a bit funny inside. A long time ago – back in Year Four, before Isla Fawcett had completely grown into the bully she now was – Ellie had stupidly confided this to her and now she was always worried that one day Isla was going to tell Rashid. Who, Ellie was sure, probably liked Isla, or at least girls who looked like Isla, more than Ellie anyway.

      Fred, knowing that the mention of Rashid had embarrassed his sister, said: “Leave it, Isla.”

      “Sorry, what was that?” said Isla, turning to him.

      “Yeah, what was that?” said Morris, also turning to him.

      It was true Fred hadn’t said it very loudly.

      “Nothing,” said Fred.

      “Oh, that’s very odd,” said Isla.

      “Yeah. Odd. Very,” said Morris, improvising.

      “Because I’m sure you said something. Was it maybe … something about being a boy who isn’t even as good at video games as his sister …?”

      “Yeah! His sister!” said Morris.

      Fred looked away, embarrassed.

      Even though he didn’t mind at all that his sister was better than him at video games, he did mind people at school making fun of him for it. Which some did. Not because Ellie had told everyone, but because Eric, at Bracket Wood’s last parent-teacher evening, when asked by their form teacher, Miss Parr, what he thought Ellie’s particular talents were, had said: “Video games. You’d have thought that would’ve been the boy, but no, she’s the one with the magic fingers!!”

      Unfortunately, Eric’s voice was very loud and booming, and everyone in their form room – and most of the rest of the school – had heard.

      “In fact, Fred, you’re probably even worse at video games than you are at actual games!” said Isla.

      “Yeah! Actual games!” said Morris.

      “Like …” said Isla, turning to Morris.

      There was a pause.

      “What?” said Morris.

      “I thought you might say this bit,” said Isla.

      Morris frowned. “What bit?”

      “The bit about which games he’s rubbish at …? Like, give some examples?”

      Morris looked blank.

      “Oh, come on, Morris!” said Isla. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to always drive the bullying? To have to come up with all the clever things to say to humiliate other children? Frankly, I’m starting to think you’re just a passenger in what we’re doing here.”

      Morris frowned again. Then he frowned some more. Finally, his face cleared. “Football!” he said, clicking his fingers.