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wouldn’t feel a thing!). Miss Fickle would be there at his beck and call wherever and whenever he needed her, and whenever they couldn’t agree on a matter and push came to shove, he would often give in to her – even though he wouldoften say later that it was his idea originally.
    My time spent at Benworden from years 7 to 11 were demanding but definitely enjoyable, and I never once regretted the decision to send me there. I particularly loved being a member of the Bull Ants Club, so I was thrilled when, at the start of year 12, I became one of the two leaders of the club. However, I had no idea that it was going to be one of the most difficult years in the club’s long history.
    The Bull Ants team consisted of 12 members: two representatives each from years 7,8,9,10,11 and 12. The two year 12 members held the honour of high command and this honour was passed onto the two year 11s on graduation day.
    Each member was assigned duties that befitted the year they were in and they were put through rigorous training by the members from the year above. This then prepared them for the following year.
    We had all gone through an initiation process and when it was completed a ceremony was held in which we were given club names by the leaders.. The club names didn’t have to be used but were engraved on the back of the club rings. The names represented acceptance and acknowledgment that we were connected to a group that saw us as part of their family.
    My club name was Fetch; it originated from my ability to find the right parts or objects for the right price or at no cost at all. This was what I had been trained in since becoming a member in year 7 and I seemed to have a natural flair for this type of work. I guess my skill came from living on our farm, where Dad would often ask me to go to the shed and find a part or ring up the local hardware store to order whatever was required. Old Mr Bunter, the owner of the store, wouldn’t hesitate to put things on Dad’s account when I would callbecause he knew Dad had full trust in me and that I rarely made a mistake about the things he had asked me to order.
    As each member progressed through the years they had to learn the skills of those who’d preceded them. Once a year 12 member graduated, a year 7 student would be chosen on their ability to perform similar skills to the person who had moved on. For example, once I left, the club required someone who would fetch, so they would have researched the new boarders by hacking into the principal’s computer and analysing who had the most potential for my role. This created a rotation of members with the skills required to run the club.

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    T HE C RUSH

    M y co-leader was Geraldine “Shamrock” O’Connor. Geraldine and I worked side by side as presidents of the Bull Ants Club. She was born in Ireland and her mother and father came to Australia when she was nine years old, yet there was still a faint reminder of a gentle Irish accent. She had an extraordinarily strong will and was sometimes as fiery as her brilliant red hair. It normally took a lot to upset Geraldine (or Gerry as we called her) but once that Irish temper was off and running so was everyone around her. Gerry wore blue rectangular-shaped glasses which in no way detracted from her breathtaking beauty.
    Her father was a partner with a large law firm in Melbourne who mainly defended big-time criminals. Her mother was a professor at the Melbourne University. Most of their time was spent in Melbourne, but occasionally they would take some time off to come up to their hobby farm just out of Ballarat where they kept quarter horses and a handful of cattle. Her father loved the feeling of throwing on a pair of work boots, jeans and a flannelette shirt and jumping in his flat tray ute with its hoist on the back to go into town to pick up some lucerne for the horses. Of course it was the farm hand who did the real work but as Gerry said, while