"For Christ's sake!"
She couldn't understand why that should penetrate his armour when nothing else seemed to. It was a pity he had gone out while she had done the packing. She had imagined him sitting on the bed talking to her while she had done it.
She said equably, "The clothes will go to a children's charity. They could use the money from the microscope, too, if you agree."
He agreed. He wished she would stop talking about it.
"And there's a stamp collection. I don't know if that's valuable or not?"
"Not."
"The microscope – what was he going in for? Your line?"
"Scientific research – spelt with a u." And nobody knew what line.
He suggested they should have the drink. Dinner hadn't been planned, but under the circumstances it would be churlish not to invite her. She had been kind. She was representing him at the inquest. She was a friend of longstanding.
The thought flashed into his mind that he had known Jenny for two days.
Time was a clown that stood on its head and made rude gestures. He was offered the Paris posting – now. David had lived twelve years. Jenny's warm familiar flesh had been warm and familiar for a few hours only.
He needed her.
In the middle of his shock and grief he needed her.
He should have no thought for anyone but David, but he walked a behavioural maze and struggled through to her at the centre of it. If anyone could lead him out into sanity again, then she would lead him out.
Thirza said, "I found this in David's anorak pocket." She handed him a snap, dog-eared at the edges. It was of Ruth standing in a winter garden with snow on her boots. Boris, the red-setter puppy they were looking after for a neighbour, was pawing at her fawn mackintosh and leaving wet marks on it. On the back David had written in blue crayon, Mum cross with Boris. It wasn't a particularly attractive snap of Ruth, but it had caught the moment. Remembered laughter. David had been using up the last two snaps on the reel. The other one had been of him and Ruth together after Boris had been banished to the house. David had focussed it badly and it had come out blurred.
Thirza commented, "Not a good one of Ruth."
"A happy one."
"She's scowling at the dog."
"Afterwards she laughed."
"Talk about her to me, John. And about David, too. I need to know to understand You've given me facts – as you see them If you believe that David was unhappy, I've got to know more about him – about you – about his reaction to losing Ruth I think you may be making the school a scapegoat I've got to know more "
He looked at her helplessly "He was recovering Up to this last term – he was recovering Then something happened He drew that bloody sketch to show that it was happening "
"And gave it to the school matron ' It was dry "Who cared about him '
"As a mother substitute?"
Surely she was too young – even in David's eyes? "I don't know "
"But you might know by talking about it "
"I can't" It came out flatly Ruth David Jenny They were like three portraits in his mind A private room housed them and Thirza had no entry to that room She would have to represent him at the inquest as best she could He put the snap in his pocket "If the time is too short for you – or if you don't honestly feel you want to go on with it She interrupted him "I want to help you If the school is to blame we'll know soon enough and I'll take it further But if the school isn't to blame – then you must accept that, too Whichever way it goes, stop blaming yourself No father could have done more "
She refused the invitation to dine, saying she preferred something casual and easy at the pub on the corner The conversation had been casual and easy, too, and she had failed to break through to anything deeper Understanding her motives he had drunk lightly, making the drive back an excuse tor not over-indulging She was not enemy-territory, far from it, but he didn't want her kindly probing either She had the facts, but if she were hoping for an emotional outburst then she could sit here until closing time and not get it Jenny had seen his agony and his rage – and felt the brunt of both He couldn't let go with anyone else It was Thirza's suggestion that she should spend the following night at Marristone Port "Even though the inquest isn't until the afternoon, I don't feel like risking heavy traffic on Friday morning and being delayed "
He agreed "But The Lantern is hardly your style The Strand on the west side of the Port looks more comfortable "
In a shy, awkward gesture she touched the back of his hand with her index finger "If it's not too squalid for you, I'm sure I'll find it perfectly acceptable Book me at The Strand if The Lantern's full, but try The Lantern first"
He promised he would and that they would have dinner together at The Lantern either way He hoped he had put some enthusiasm into the invitation She was an extremely attractive, kindly woman If Ruth had been master-minding his present campaign she would have spirit-smiled her approval He wondered, fleetingly, what she would have thought of Jenny It was ten o'clock when he took his leave of her at her flat in Knightsbridge The June night was prematurely dark and a light rain fell By the time he reached the outskirts of Marristone Port the rain had become intermittent and the moon shone on the dark country roads He didn't notice the child, Corley, pressed up against the wall as the car passed Corley had pulled his school cap across his face and buried his hands in his mack pocket so that no white skin showed It wasn't until Corley was well clear of Marristone that he ditched his cap and began looking out for a lorry going in the opposite direction To hitch a lift in a private car would probably result in his being returned to the school or murdered He regarded both with equal horror But to climb on to the back of a lorry travelling more or less m the general direction of Somerset – without the lorry driver knowing he had climbed on to it – shouldn't be particularly hazardous. Provided he could find a parked lorry – or a lorry toiling slowly up a hill. He trudged on in the darkness discovering as the night wore on that parked lorries and slow lorries weren't exactly thick on the ground. And the only one he could have boarded was going the wrong way.
Seven
CORLEY'S ABSENCE, AS Corley himself had anticipated, wasn't discovered until breakfast-time. Travers, one of Sherborne's senior prefects, brought the news to Sherborne. Sherborne, after a quick search of the premises went over to the school house and informed Brannigan.
Brannigan, still breakfasting with Alison, exploded, "Christ, that's all I need!" He had spent a restless night trying to reassure an insomniac Alison that all would go well at the inquest on Friday.
At Sherborne's news her face took on a yellow pallor and she sat silently looking at him, her breakfast plate pushed to one side. Brannigan tried to control his own reaction. "He said to her abruptly, "He can't be far." And to Sherborne, "I'll walk back, to school with you." In passing Alison he dropped his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently, "Just a prank, probably. Stop worrying."
On the way over to the main building Sherborne gave him all the details as he knew them. "My wife and I went to bed shortly after eleven. She had made the dormitory check at ten – it didn't seem necessary to do it again. All the lads were in bed then."
Brannigan said sharply. "Or perhaps seemed to be – you know the old trick with the pillow."
"Well – damn – she didn't go round prodding the lads.
This isn't a Borstal, Headmaster. What is there to escape from?"
"That's what we have to find out." Sherborne's tetchiness began bordering on belligerence.
"I may be in loco parentis, but I'm not God the Father. My wife and I have never spared ourselves in caring for the boys.