"So, let's sum up what we have so far", said Mr Cynic.
His real name was Smith, but as a Latin teacher with classical attitude he had been a prime target for an alternative handle.
"The slave Janus had been toiling all day on the construction", he continued in his strong clear but completely emotionless tenor voice. "He sneaked away behind a mound of earth to take a rest and was caught by the gangmaster who sent him to the Centurion for his punishment. The Centurion, after mocking him, had asked him what punishment he had been sent to do".
He looked up at the class and was just opening his mouth to speak when he froze, his gaze fixed on a girl by the window in the third row who was staring dreamily out the window. He quietly wandered over and down the aisle towards the girl as the rest of class silently watched his every move with nervous expectant grins on their faces.
Jane was oblivious to what was happening in class. She watched a boy come out of the hall at the head of the quad and imagined it was Simon. He was walking towards the language block and she imagined he was coming for her, unable to contain his emotions. She thought about the buds and the herbs she had crushed with the pestle in the mortar to make the magic potion and remembered the sheen it had left behind after she had smeared it on his bicycle saddle. She imagined him bursting into class with his arms wide open unable to contain his emotion, a bunch of roses in his hand, a wild and desperate look on his face, and he would cry out "Jane! I love you, I've had a crush on you ever since I first met you...".
Then again, perhaps not, she thought, coming to earth with a bump when she remembered that the class was full of her peers and a very cynical classics master. But maybe he would wait outside, desperate to catch her as soon as she came out of class, maybe he had...
"SO MISS SIMPSON, WHAT COMES NEXT!", Mr Cynic bellowed into her ear. She shot three feet into the air as the rest of the class roared with laughter and the master straightened himself up proud of his accomplishment in both chastising the girl and gaining the approval of the rest of the class for the manner in which he had done it.
Jane looked around desperately for some hint or clue of what she should do. Mr Cynic proceeded:
"Janus has to tell the centurion what punishment he has been sent for, remember?" He spoke as if she were three years old.
"Obterere lapidibus", he said as Jane fumbled in the pages of the book, "To crush stones; now, read on".
But Jane couldn't read. She had found the text but her mind was blocked. Obterere lapidibus, she read again, that had been the name of the recipe for the magic potion, what was it doing here? No, wait, she thought, that wasn't it, there had been another word. She was so confused. The book of magic potions was all in Latin and printed in an antique font but she was sure she had understood it, she had checked all the words in the dictionary, it was a potion for a boy on which you had a crush......but, to crush stones?
There had been another word. It was all coming together, she had thought it was a potion for a boy she had a crush on, but she hadn't bothered looking up the other word, and if she had got the grammar wrong?
"We are all waiting", said the Latin master in a tone that did his nickname full justice.
Jane didn't even hear him. The penny had dropped. She stood up, brushed him aside and ran out of the class.
"Miss Jane Simpson" bellowed the master, but she was already out the room before he had finished.
She ran out onto the quad just as Simon was coming out of the hall, it really was him this time, she had to get to him. The clock on the tower started to chime: Ding dong ding dong. She called out:
"SIMON, SIMON, WAIT".
Simon looked round and stopped, puzzled at the sight of the girl desperately running towards him. He vaguely knew her. She was in the chess club but he had never understood why, she seemed more interested in being his personal cheerleader than actually playing the game. He imagined her wanting to engage him in some sickly appraisal of the way he played; he pretended he had not understood and turned to walk away around the back of the tower.
The clock continued it's chime: ding dong ding CRACK!
It was a mighty crack. Short, sharp, but very loud. The sound seemed to be everywhere at once. Startled by the sound Jane looked up and she saw a great crack had appeared up the side of the tower, rubble was falling away and stones were starting to come adrift. She looked down and saw that Simon was nervously edging back from the tower, not sure what was going to happen next.
"SIMON, GET OUT OF THE WAY", she yelled, but as she spoke there was a mighty crash and the tower came tumbling and grumbling down to the ground as a mighty cloud of dust rose up out of the rubble towards the sky.
Jane fell to her knees and watched the dust settle on the pile of rocks that had covered all that she had desired. The third word, the phrase, the grammar, she couldn't believe how stupid she had been:
"Obterere lapidibus puerum", she said under her breath, "To crush a boy with stones".