“Yes,” said Colin drily.
“Then he went to university — Cambridge, no less. What did Cambridge do to you, Colin?
“Educated me.”
“Look at him now! He won’t voice an opinion. Doesn’t argue. Refuses to vote. And spends his spare time playing with toy bricks.”
“I don’t understand why people in this country think their opinions matter,” murmured Colin, working on his city walls. “The Labour Party refuse to fight the stock exchange. The Tories refuse to fight the unions. The radical demonstrators link arms with the police and sing Auld Lang Syne. I refuse to feel angry about this. Like most of us I would hate a civil war with starvation, looting and machine-guns fired out of bedroom windows. Our political system is a means of using up energy which might change things. Political opinions are hobbies, like mine —” (he glanced with satisfaction at the towers of Glonda) “— exactly like mine.”
“O!” cried Mavis flinging her book down, “I wish I could shake and shake you till you came alive!”
Colin looked at her with an obstinate little smile. Bill said plaintively, “Don’t talk like that Mavis, it hurts my head. Colin, precisely when can I attack Glonda?”
“When it’s complete.”
“But you keep changing bits! I don’t mind preparing an attack if I’ve a date to work toward but you won’t give me one.”
“Right. The fifth of November. Our war will start on the fifth of November. That gives us plenty of time.”
“Don’t depend on it Bill,” said Mavis, “we may not be here by then. And now it’s your bedtime.”
She went on reading. The three males stared at her, Bill sullen, Gordon quizzical, Colin horrified. Gordon stood up saying, “How about hot chocolate and toast before you go Bill? I’m having some.”
“All right,” said Bill in a subdued voice. He gathered his book and tracings, put them on the tea table and asked if he could leave them there till tomorrow. Neither Mavis nor Colin answered so he followed Gordon to the kitchen.
Colin sat on the sofa facing Mavis who looked brightly back. He said, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m leaving, Colin. I came to live in your house — not your father’s.”
“Two thirds of it is mine!”
“Only legally.”
“We … must talk about this later.”
“Talk all you like. It won’t change me.”
9
At seven o’clock next morning Gordon, dressed for work, was boiling an egg in the kitchen when Colin, unshaven and morose, entered wearing dressing-gown and slippers. Gordon said, “Get yourself a mug — there’s tea in the pot,” and put another egg into simmering water.
“I’m tired,” said Colin, yawning and pouring.
“I’m not surprised. The noise kept me awake till two thirty.”
“What did you hear?”
“Nothing distinct — just a man and woman arguing.”
“We’ll have to leave, Dad,” said Colin, sighing.
“Who’s we?”
“Mavis, me and Bill. You see —”
“Don’t explain!” said Gordon quickly. “Nothing needs explaining. But you’re not leaving. I can’t pay for this house on my own you know.”
“I’d still pay my share of it —”
“What! And the rent for somewhere else? And support a woman like Mavis?”
“I’ll manage it,” said Colin with obstinate calm. “Mavis has her Social Security allowance.”
“She won’t have it if the pair of you share the same lodgings. And how will I feel living alone in a house this size? All I need is a room and kitchen near the shop, Colin, somewhere with a decent pub round the corner. I’ve missed the pubs since we came out here.” Gordon performed deft movements which ended with him seated facing his son, a soft-boiled egg in a cup before each of them. Colin was watching him with a mournfulness Gordon seemed to find amusing.
“Stop looking tragic!” he cried. “You arenae driving a poor lonely old soul from hearth and home! I’m not fifty yet. I’ve more friends than you have. Anyway, I’ll be here at weekends if only to weed the garden. I doubt if you or Mavis will do it.”
“You’re … a very … decent man,” said Colin, smiling at him lovingly. Gordon grinned with pleasure then frowned and said, “Since I’m leaving I’ll be so bold as to ask a question I couldnae have asked otherwise. Mavis. Why don’t you boss her a bit? I think she’d be happier if you did.”
“Boss her,” said Colin, staring at his egg. “Taking orders is the thing she most hates. If I bossed her she would leave me.”
“And you’re afraid of that?”
“Terrified.”
“Can’t help you there son.”
Gordon finished his breakfast and went to work. Colin returned to the curtained bedroom. Without switching on the light he sat on the bed beside Mavis and stroked her hair until she opened her eyes and said, “Mm?”
“I spoke to him.”
“Well?”
“He’s leaving.”
She thought for a moment then said, “Won’t that be very sad for him?”
“I think so. But he makes light of it.”
“Well,” said Mavis, yawning, “if you can accept it so can I. He isn’t my father.”
10
One Saturday Mavis returned to the house in Saint Leonard’s Bank and found a cluster of toy balloons against the living-room ceiling. Strings hung from them. Colin and Bill were tying the ends to the turrets of Glonda.
“Hullo!” said Mavis dropping her shopping bag on a chair. “Have you noticed how late I am?”
Both had noticed. Colin had been worried but the sight of her made that irrelevant. He had never seen her so cheerful. He sat down to enjoy the sight, stretching his arms and saying, “It doesn’t matter. I gave Bill his tea.”
“I knew you would.”
With dance-like movements she went to the window and rearranged flowers in a vase saying, “I met Clive Evans in the supermarket. It was nice meeting an old friend. He took me for a meal.”
“Evans the Welshman?” asked Colin, still contemplating her with pleasure.
“Yes. It was fun meeting him by accident like that. He’s teaching now. Do I seem drunk?”
“You seem cheerful. He bought you a drink?”
“No, he admired me. I made a tremendous impression on him. Don’t you feel intoxicated when someone admires you?”
“People don’t admire me,” said Colin smiling ruefully.
“Make them! It should be easy. You’re full of good qualities. Bill you scruffy little tyke, let me have a look at you.”
Bill was still tying balloon strings to spools on the sides of turrets. She pressed his head forward, peered at the nape of his neck and said, “A bath is what you need, my lad. Upstairs, undress and get into one. Scoot!”
“I had a bath last night, Mavis.”
“You need another. Scoot!”
Bill pulled a face and left. Colin said thoughtfully, “I never liked Evans. Did you?”
“In college? O no. He was pompous and smug. Do you remember how he said ‘I think that sums it up?’ whenever he thought he’d been smart? But outside college he’s different, very witty and funny. Almost as big a surprise as you.”
“In what way?”
“In college you were suave, aloof, dominating. Outside you were mothered by your daddy and play with toys on the living-room table.”
Colin brooded on this until she sat by him and leant against his side, then he relaxed, sighed and murmured, “Well, you’re happy Mavis. That’s good.”