This Week: A warning to all parents...

"It's high time, I think, that the boy started learning the ropes of the business. He's spending far too much of his time stuck in his room, addling his brains. "
The cat, which a moment before seemed fast asleep, rolled up in a snug black ball at the foot of the bed, pricks up its ears a fraction.
"Do you think that's wise, dear? He's only twelve after all."
"Twelve? He's nearly a man. Anyway, he's got to do something constructive soon with his life - he's not 'all there' any more. He's in the clouds. He's not the strong, bright and healthy son I want for a son.

"You know what I caught him doing the other day, don't you? He was only reading a book. A book, I tell you! Such things aren't good for a boy. And I know where he's getting it all from, all these 'books'. It's that family up the road - the ruddy Fentons, and their bloody 'library'. They're a bad influence on the lad, especially that young Fenton boy, the one with the glasses. He's trouble he is - they're all trouble - and I don't want him going up there any more."

"All right dear, don't work yourself up so. He'll hear you."
"He'll be bloody hearing from me if I find another Ladybird book under his bed, I can tell you. Disgusting! I'll give him a damned good thrashing. I'm sure he gets it from your side of the family. And you know where he's going to end up if he carries on like this, don't you?"
"You don't mean -"
"Yes, I do... Scouts."
"The Lord save him! So you mean to get him started then?"
"Why not? I was only five when my father first had me bent over a keyboard."