After our meal, we'd adjourned to the van and made ourselves comfortable.

'That wasn't half bad, that beef burger-whatever-it-was,' Flinty said, picking his teeth with an overgrown fingernail. 'All we need now is the after-dinner brandy and cigars, or ... in our case, whisky and spliffs. I've got a stash hidden somewhere in here.'

 Flinty began searching through innumerable tiny cupboards and drawers incorporated into Sharon's haphazard interior.

'Aha ... here we are.'

He produced an old tobacco tin which he tossed onto the dinette table and then he gave three glasses a quick rinse in the overcrowded sink.

'Just the job,' Spud said, opening the bottle of whisky we'd bought that morning. The Johnny Walker hadn't survived our late-night session and had joined a growing pile of empties consigned to Sharon's toilet cubicle. We'd get rid of them the next time we drove past a wheelie bin, Flinty had explained.

The tobacco tin contained half a dozen ready-rolled joints and Flinty and Spud both lit up while I refused one. I'd promised Lynn years ago to give up weed.

'Suit yourself,' Flinty shrugged. 'More for us.'

We sprawled out on the stained cushions that formed the dinette seats and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. By the look of the weather, we were in for a long wait.

Spud inhaled contentedly and started musing about things we'd got up to in our school days. We laughed at his descriptions of some of our teachers.

'Do you remember Mr Taylor? He had a nose that could spear a fish!'

'And he always had gravy stains all down his tie,' I added. 'I don't think he could find his mouth with that nose in the way!'

'Simmo, remember Copley's sniper? Tell us that one again. That was an absolute classic.'

The story of Copley's sniper was probably my greatest claim to fame at school. I'd been called upon to relate it dozens of times, so every detail was indelibly printed on my memory.

***

Our school stood on the outskirts of Swindon town centre and had originally been council offices. It was a four-storey Victorian building and looked completely out of place flanked by a modern shopping centre and a multi-storey car park. To the rear of the main school building was a bleak concrete schoolyard which, on evenings and weekends, served as a parade ground for the army cadet force.

One of the many school rules was that all pupils had to go outside during break times unless the weather was life-threateningly bad. In winter, that meant shivering in the windswept yard, huddled together like penguins in the Antarctic. A teacher was always allocated to patrol the school seeking out rule-breakers and dispensing justice ... usually detention.

***

On this particular freezing cold day, I had made some excuse to get something from our warm classroom while everyone else was herded outside. The temptation to stay inside was too much so I ducked down behind my desk until the corridor fell silent.

Our classroom was on the third floor, overlooking the yard, so I went and stood next to the radiator under one of the windows and looked down at all the kids stamping around and blowing on their hands. Then I noticed Spud and Flinty standing together below me. Naturally, I had to slide the sash window up a few inches and shout down to let them know how nice and warm it was inside.

Just as I was about to close the window again Spud took a marble out of his pocket.

'I bet I can throw this through that gap,' he called up to me.

'No chance!'

'Catch this,' he shouted and hurled the marble, which bounced off the window ledge right under my nose.

Flinty ran and retrieved the marble and handed it back to Spud. He threw again. This time his aim was dead on. The marble zipped past my left ear and landed behind me.

'I bet you can't do that again!' I challenged him and threw it back down just as I detected heavy footsteps in the corridor outside.

I quickly pulled down the window, rushed to my desk and was flicking through a textbook when Mr Copley, the woodwork teacher, burst through the door. Copley was not only the woodwork teacher ... he was also Captain Copley in our cadet force, and the only officer who everyone found obnoxious. He was an officious clown, full of his own self-importance.

'I thought I heard voices! What are you doing in here boy?'

Before I had a chance to answer, we were both startled by a loud crack and the sash window transformed into a spiders web of fractured glass. I gazed in horror at the small jagged hole that had appeared near the bottom of the pane. Copley saw it at the same time and dived to the floor.

'Get down boy ... it must be a sniper!'

Automatically, I did as ordered, and Copley told me to crawl over to where he crouched, under the window.

'This is the safest place,' he advised, 'in case of ricochets.'

Sitting on the bare wooden floor next to my protector I was in a complete quandary about what to do. I knew that if the truth were revealed, I would certainly be punished. Under interrogation I might spill the beans and name Spud, so he would also get it in the neck. I decided to bide my time.

'I'm going to the end window to see if I can locate the shooter. You stay here and keep your head down.'

With that, Copley crabbed his way across the floor and I watched in guilty silence as he peered tentatively over the window sill.

'Yes, I think I can see him on the roof of the multi-storey car park. He's looking the other way. Must be reloading.'

I cringed inwardly. I had seen the contractors arriving that morning on my way into school. I knew they were tarmacking the roof.

As I was desperately trying to think of a way out of this predicament, Copley shuffled back to me. I must have looked the picture of despair and fear because, to my surprise, he put his arm around my shoulders.

'Don't worry boy, I'll get us out of this. I went through much worse than this during my national service you know.'

The rumour among the cadets was that Copley had been a private in the catering corps and spent his entire national service in Aldershot. Nevertheless, I was touched, and my guilt increased exponentially.

'This is what we'll do,' Copley announced decisively. 'You stay here under the window where you're safe. I'm going to crawl to the door, then run to the headmaster's office and phone the police. But whatever happens to me, even if I get hit, don't you move. Understand?'

'Yessir,' I croaked and noticed that the knees of his suit trousers had been scuffed right through by the rough floorboards.

He patted my arm reassuringly and without another word, launched himself forward on his stomach. I couldn't stand it any longer, I had to bite the bullet and confess. Then I noticed the marble lying under a desk a few feet away.

'Sir! Wait ... look at this.'

I leaned over and picked up the marble, holding it up so he could see it.

'Somebody must have thrown this at the window, sir,' I offered.

Copley's face and neck turned a volcanic shade of crimson and I had a mental image of Yosemite Sam erupting in a Bugs Bunny cartoon I had seen recently.

'A bloody marble!' he gasped. 'Give me that thing.'

We both stood up and Copley carefully scanned the car park roof before comparing the marble to the hole punched through the window. He realized it was just the right size and the truth dawned.

'Did you have anything to do with this boy?' he demanded.

'Of course not sir,' I lied innocently. 'I was just finishing off some maths homework for Mr Carter.'

'Why didn't you do it last night?'

'It was cadets' night sir ... we were practising rifle drill for the big parade next week. You did the uniform inspections sir ... and you kept us quite late,' I added helpfully.

'Hmm, that's true, and I could see you were terrified so you obviously thought it was a sniper as well.'

I nodded in agreement and suppressed a smile at the sight of Copley's ruined suit. I wondered when the floors had last been cleaned. I guessed probably before I was born.

'An easy assumption to make,' Copley continued, 'especially for military types such as ourselves. But it might be better if we didn't say too much about this ... it might look as if we overreacted somewhat.'

'Yes sir, but the window, it will have to be fixed and someone's bound to notice that hole.'

Copley looked at the window thoughtfully and took a Swiss army knife out of his pocket. He selected a suitable implement to hook through the hole and gave it a sharp tug. The pane collapsed and an avalanche of glass shards landed in a jingling heap on the classroom floor.

'There, now we can say it was just some stone-throwing lout. I'll let the caretaker know it needs to be replaced.'

Then Copley did a smart about turn and marched with considerable dignity out of the room.

***

Of course, I immediately told Spud and Flinty what had happened and soon everyone in the school knew the story of Copley's sniper. His reputation among the cadets plunged even lower and he must have known that I was the source of the whispers because he took a particular delight in finding fault with my uniform at every inspection. I spent the remainder of my time in the cadet force dodging him, but I still peeled more potatoes than the rest of the troop put together.