Chapter 1

“Okay, kids, here we are,” Angela Armstrong said to her children as she turned her car into the drive leading to the visitors’ parking area of their new school. “Remember, your counselor at St. George’s in Munich told us this new school shouldn’t be much different from St. George’s School. They used the same curriculum in Munich as the British schools do, so you should fit right in. So are you excited about starting in another new school—in yet another new country?”

“Yeah, Mom,” chorused both Tom and Lynette.

“Mo-o-o-om, that’s so lame,” giggled Lynette. “That’s exactly what you asked us this time last year when we moved to Munich and started at St. George’s there!”

The siblings looked at each other and nodded as Tom bumped her shoulder with his.

Angela chuckled. “I remember saying that to you guys,” she said. “I just wanted to cheer up Tom. Tom, you look unhappy.”

“Can’t help it, Mom ... I keep bringing this up; but I sure wish Andrew was going here too,” Tom said. “I’ll miss seeing him around school.”

“Yeah, I know,” Angela sighed. “I know how close you two are ... but you saw his new school, Woodhouse College, when we passed it just down the road—and you’ll see him every day at home anyway.”

Tom recalled the discussion his family had about his and his siblings’ school plans when it became time to arrange their move to London. As part of their planning, Tom’s parents wanted their kids to go to top schools, so they looked for ones with good reputations for Andrew, 18 years old, and for Tom and Lynette, who were both 15, and found schools in the East Finchley area of London which met their approval. But it meant that Andrew would be attending a different one from Tom.

Tom had asked his dad, Duncan, during their planning, “Why does Andrew have to go to a different school from me, Dad? He’s still in high school, right?”

“Well, Andrew’s going into his year thirteen now,” his dad had answered. “His new school is called a college and it’s just for kids 18 and 19; they don’t have the lower grades. Besides, if we still lived in Canada, he’d be going away to a university now, so he wouldn’t have been in your school then either. Your new school is supposed to be a good one too; it’s why we’re letting a house nearby, but it doesn’t have Andrew’s grade—when the kids from your new school finish year eleven, they usually go on to Woodhouse.”

Tom’s thoughts returned to the present as his mom was still speaking about Andrew’s school.

“When kids from a college like Woodhouse finish their senior year—oops, they’re not high school seniors here, the top grade’s called ‘sixth form’; I still can’t get used to the differences in how the school grades work in England—they’re different from Canada ... and from Germany too—when Andrew finishes there, he’ll go on to university.”

They left the car and started walking to the building; lots of kids were streaming through the entrance doors.

Tom and Lynette Armstrong were step-siblings. They were the same age, almost to the day, and both were 15 years old now. They were Canadian natives and had lived in Canada for the first thirteen years of their lives; then their father Duncan’s job in international finance had taken the family first to Munich, Germany for a year, and now the family had moved to London, England, for Duncan’s management job with the bank’s international division. Tom physically took after his dad. Duncan was 6 feet 4 inches tall and had played guard in college basketball in Canada where he had become an All-Canadian collegiate athlete in his senior year.

Now at age 15, Tom was 6 feet tall, weighed 172 pounds, and was still growing, very much on track to eventually reach his father’s stature. Tom loved bicycling and distance running and was good at both, frequently accompanying his dad or his older brother Andrew on their runs and bike rides. About a year before the family had moved to Germany, Andrew had begun a strength and endurance training regime when he started playing league soccer in Toronto and he had gotten Tom to begin working out with him, hoping that Tom would like soccer too and start playing, but Tom didn’t much care for the sport. He did like the pumped feeling that weight-lifting gave him, though, so he had kept up with it, and his large frame allowed him to develop powerful muscles.

Lynette was 5 feet 5 inches and weighed about 115 pounds and next to her step-brother, she looked tiny, but her body had matured nicely and she had a narrow waist, a B-cup bust, and long sleek legs, toned by years of her own running and biking. The two were not only step-siblings, they were also each other’s best friends. The children had met when Duncan and Angela, Lynette’s mother, had begun dating and Tom and Lynette had been instantly attracted to each other; they discovered that they liked the same music groups, movies, books, even school, just about everything. That’s when Lynette began organizing Tom’s life and he loved having her do it. He thought she was so cool because she always considered his own wants before her own. It was sibling rivalry turned on its head—the two competed to outdo each other in how well they looked after and treated each other.

As the three of them walked to the school office, Tom was thinking as he watched the kids flowing around him and his sister. “Yeah, Mom said ‘new year, new school, new country.’ At least this time we don’t have to learn a new language too. Good thing that the classes at St. George’s were mostly in English, though,” he mused and Lynette grinned and nodded at his comment.

The family had lived in Munich for a year, after all, so they did learn to speak German—not like natives, understandably, but after a year, their German was quite passable. And being Canadian, they had also learned French—the Québécois version, anyway, and were fluent in that language.

At the office, Angela dropped off the folders with Tom’s and Lynette’s school records from their prior schools, got receipts for the documents, and then she was asked to fill out a few additional forms. When she finished, the office supervisor told them that the children would need to see the counselor for some final items, but the counselor wasn’t currently available because of a family matter.

“But you’re both okay to begin classes,” the lady told them, “Here are your class schedules. Your files show that St. George’s sent your class information ahead; that let us assign your classes beforehand, didn’t it.” She finished her instructions. “The two of you will be called by the counselor next week, perhaps on the Tuesday, you’ll see. Meanwhile, today is just for orientation. You’ll go to your home room first and then go to each of your next classes every fifteen minutes to meet your teachers and get your class materials. First day of classes is on Monday. On the Monday, go to home room first, then as well there’s an assembly right after that. Any questions?”

None of them had a question so they left the office. After saying goodbye to their mother, Tom and Lynette compared their schedules.

“Cool!” Lynette laughed. “We got the same schedule again, just like last year.”

“Yeah,” Tom grinned. “Like they think we’re twins, right? Just look at us ... we look so much like each other!”

Lynette giggled and slapped his shoulder. “I don’t think anyone will understand how we’re not twins. Same dark blonde hair, same last name, almost same birthday.”

“Yeah. Two days apart. Mom had a real ... l ... l ... ly long labor?” Tom spread his arms. They both laughed.

The two went to their home room class and spent the rest of the day in a whirlwind of quick getting-to-know-you classes, the periods so short that they had little time to speak with, let alone introduce themselves to any of the other kids.

On Monday the siblings rode their bikes to school. Tom loved riding, but glancing over at him, Lynette noticed a thoughtful look on his face.

“Hey, what’s bothering you, brother?” she called.

“Nah, nothing really ... Just thinking about riding to school when the weather gets bad,” Tom answered. “Munich winters weren’t bad at all, but you know how London has that rep for rain and miserable winter weather.”

“Yeah, true. Well, there’s a bus route—the route’s closer to us than any of the subway stops, so we’ll take the bus if we can’t ride. Hey, think the folks’ll spring for a car for us?”

Tom laughed ruefully. “Right. Even Andrew couldn’t get a car out of them. Remember Dad? ‘Son, you’re in London. Public transit everywhere. No need for a car. I don’t use one.’ But Dad takes a cab or Uber to work so he hardly ever needs to drive himself.”

Lynette agreed. “Yeah, Dad says the parking fees near his office are terrible.”

They arrived at the school and locked their bikes up at the bike racks. Hundreds of kids were milling around, parking their bikes, leaving cars, and streaming into the school building. Tom and Lynette moved with the crowd and once inside the building, set off for their home room.

After the class got settled and the bell rang, the teacher welcomed them.

“Good morning, everyone. We’ll be here for a few minutes before everyone goes to the assembly hall. There are some special instructions; everyone must leave their rucksacks and bags in their lockers before you go to assembly. If you have mobiles, leave them in your bags. No mobiles are to be brought into the assembly hall. The head teacher will be introducing a new program to the school and everyone will be on their best behavior, won’t you.”

When she said that, there was a sudden chorus of exclamations and moans from the students.

“Quiet, please!” she called. “Now everyone, tidy up your rucksacks and bags and get ready for the bell. I’ll expect everyone to be orderly as you go to your lockers and then go quietly to the assembly hall.”

Within several minutes, the bell rang and everyone left the room, following the teacher’s instructions, and soon they were entering the assembly hall. Tom and Lynette were whispering to each other as they walked.

“What do you suppose this is?” Lynette wondered aloud.

A kid passing them heard and muttered, “Prob’ly that bloody new Program rot, mates.”

“What program...?” Tom began, but the kid had moved ahead into the crowd.

He looked around; everyone was grim-faced and there was little conversation. Since Tom’s classroom was fairly distant from the assembly hall, his group was among the last to arrive and a teacher stationed at the door handed them each a sealed envelope as they entered.

“Don’t open it until you’re told,” she cautioned and pointed at the seats they were to take.

Several minutes later, the students were all seated and the head teacher, Dr Taylor, appeared on the stage.

“Welcome to a new school year at Friern Barnet School,” he intoned. “I’m pleased to see many old faces of our returning pupils, and look forward to meeting all of our new students.”

There was a rush of murmurs through the audience.

“I’d like to introduce the new staff people who have joined our faculty for our new school year,” he continued, and then began calling everyone’s attention to four of the eight teachers who were patrolling the aisles in the hall. As he called out their names and departments, the teachers waved their arms in acknowledgment at the polite applause.

“Now we’ve come to the topic for this assembly,” Taylor said, and a hush fell over the room and the sounds of nervous bodies squirming in their seats could be heard.

“You’ve all probably read in the tabloids about the Department for Education’s new Naked in School Program, being run in the schools by the Education Authority,” Taylor continued. “And letters about the Program went out to your parents last spring, so you knew the school would need to be planning for it to begin at some point, isn’t that so. Well, we’ve decided to move things right along, not delay any further, and so we’ll begin the Program this term—right here in this hall today.”

There was a great outcry of shock from the students. Tom sat bolt upright, his heart hammering in his chest. He had heard the words “naked” and “school” in the same phrase and suddenly the words began to register in his mind.

“Please settle down. You knew this program would eventually be coming and everyone’s had plenty of forewarning, haven’t you. Now you were all given an envelope when you entered the assembly hall. It contains a copy of the National Program Committee’s booklet for pupils, the ‘Introduction to the Naked in School Program,’ hereafter we’ll refer to it as the Program booklet, won’t we. All the rules for the Program are in it. You can open your envelopes now. Take a minute now to glance it through to see what it contains, but you must read it more fully after the assembly because you’ll be responsible for knowing and following all of its rules. We’d like your attention back after you’ve taken a minute to scan through your booklet.”

Chapter 2 »