Once again the throng erupted, this time into cheers, and it was nearly a minute before Tom could continue. In fact the remainder of his words were punctuated with so many interruptions of approval, that he’d barely delivered half his speech before he came to the end of his allotted time.
The cheers turned to boos the moment Fletcher rose from his place. He had already decided that this was the last public speech he would ever make. He waited for a silence that never came, and when someone shouted, ‘Get on with it,’ he delivered his first faltering words.
‘The Greeks, the Romans and the British have all, in their time, taken on the mantle of world leadership,’ Fletcher began.
‘That’s no reason why we should!’ hollered someone from the back of the hall.
‘And after the break-up of the British Empire following the Second World War,’ continued Fletcher, ‘that responsibility has been passed on to the United States. The greatest nation on the earth.’ A smattering of applause broke out in the hall. ‘We can of course sit back and admit that we are unworthy of that responsibility, or we can offer leadership to millions around the world, who admire our concept of freedom and wish to emulate our way of life. We could also walk away, allowing those same millions to suffer the yoke of communism as it engulfs the free world, or we could support them as they too try to embrace democracy. Only history will be left to record the decision we make, and history must not find us wanting.’
Jimmy was amazed that they had thus far listened with only the occasional interruption, and surprised by the respectful applause Fletcher received when he resumed his place some twenty minutes later. At the end of the debate everyone in the hall recognized that Fletcher had won the argument, even if it was Tom who won the motion by over two hundred votes.
Jimmy somehow managed to look cheerful after the result had been read out to the cheering mob. ‘It’s nothing less than a miracle,’ said Jimmy.
‘Some miracle,’ said Fletcher. ‘Didn’t you notice that we lost by two hundred and twenty-eight votes?’
‘But I was expecting to be beaten by a landslide, so I consider two hundred and twenty-eight to be nothing less than a miracle. We’ve got five days to change the minds of a hundred and fourteen voters, because most frosh accept that you’re the obvious choice to represent them on the student council,’ said Jimmy as they walked out of Woolsey Hall, with several people whispering to Fletcher, ‘Well done’ and ‘Good luck.’
‘I thought Tom Russell spoke well,’ said Fletcher, ‘and more important, he represents their views.’
‘No, he won’t do any more than keep the seat warm for you.’
‘Don’t be too sure of that,’ said Fletcher. ‘Tom might quite like the idea of becoming president.’
‘Not a chance with what I have planned for him.’
‘Dare I ask what you have in mind?’ said Fletcher.
‘I had a member of our team present whenever he gave a speech. During the campaign he made forty-three pledges, most of which he will not be able to keep. After he’s been reminded of that fact twenty times a day, I don’t think his name will be appearing on the ballot paper for president.’
‘Jimmy, have you ever read Machiavelli’s The Prince?’ asked Fletcher.
‘No, should I?’
‘No, don’t bother, he has nothing to teach you. What are you doing for dinner tonight?’ he added, as Annie came across to join them. She gave Fletcher a big hug. ‘Well done,’ she said, ‘your speech was brilliant.’
‘Too bad a couple of hundred others didn’t agree with you,’ said Fletcher.
‘They did, but most of them had decided how they were going to vote long before they entered the hall.’
‘That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell him.’ Jimmy turned to Fletcher. ‘My kid sister’s right, and what’s more...’
‘Jimmy, I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks’ time,’ said Annie, scowling at her brother, ‘just in case you haven’t noticed.’
‘I’ve noticed, and some of my friends even tell me that you’re passably pretty, but I can’t see it myself.’
Fletcher laughed. ‘So are you going to join us at Dino’s?’
‘No, you’ve obviously forgotten that Joanna and I invited you both to dinner at her place.’
‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ said Annie, ‘and I can’t wait to meet the woman who’s tied my brother down for more than a week.’
‘I haven’t looked at another woman since the day I met her,’ said Jimmy quietly.
‘But I still want to marry you,’ said Nat, holding on to her.
‘Even if you can’t be sure who the father is?’
‘That’s all the more reason for us to get married, then you’ll never doubt my commitment.’
‘I’ve never doubted it for a moment,’ said Rebecca. ‘or that you’re a good and decent man, but haven’t you considered the possibility that I might not love you enough to want to spend the rest of my life with you?’ Nat let go of her and looked into her eyes. ‘I asked Ralph what he would do if it turned out to be his child, and he agreed with me that I should have an abortion.’ Rebecca placed the palm of her hand on Nat’s cheek. ‘Not many of us are good enough to live with Sebastian, and I’m certainly no Olivia.’ She took her hand away and quickly left the room without another word.
Nat lay on her bed unaware of the darkness setting in. He couldn’t stop thinking about his love for Rebecca, and of his loathing for Elliot. He eventually fell asleep, and woke only when the telephone rang.
Nat listened to the familiar voice and congratulated his old friend when he heard the news.
13
When Nat went to pick up his mail from the student union, he was pleased to find he had three letters: a bumper crop. One of them bore the unmistakable hand of his mother. The second was postmarked New Haven, so he assumed it had to be from Tom. The third was a buff envelope containing his monthly scholarship cheque, which he would bank immediately as his funds were running low.
He walked across to McConaughy and grabbed a bowl of cornflakes and a couple of slices of toast, avoiding the powdered scrambled eggs. He took a vacant seat in the far corner of the room, and tore open his mother’s letter. He felt guilty that he hadn’t written to her for at least two weeks. There were only a few days to go before the Christmas vacation, so he hoped she would understand if he didn’t reply immediately. He’d had a long conversation with her on the phone the day after he had broken up with Rebecca. He hadn’t mentioned her being pregnant or given a particular reason for them breaking up.
My dear Nathaniel — she never called him Nat. If anyone ever read a letter from his mother, Nat reckoned that they would quickly learn everything they needed to know about her. Neat, accurate, informative, caring but somehow leaving an impression of being late for her next appointment. She always ended with the words, Must dash, love Mother. The only piece of real news she had to impart was Dad’s promotion to regional manager, which meant he would no longer have to spend endless hours on the road, but in future would be working in Hartford.
Dad is delighted about the promotion and the pay rise, which means we can just about afford a second car. However, he’s already missing the personal contact with the customers.
Nat took another spoonful of cereal before he opened the letter from New Haven. Tom’s missive was typed and contained the occasional spelling mistake, probably caused by the excitement of describing his election victory. In his usual disarming way, Tom reported that he had won only because his opponent had made a passionate speech defending America’s involvement in the Vietnam War, which hadn’t helped his cause when it came to the ballot. Nat liked the sound of Fletcher Davenport, and realized that he might well have run up against him had he gone to Yale. He bit into his toast as he continued to read Tom’s letter: I was sorry to hear about your break-up with Rebecca. Is it irreconcilable? Nat looked up from the letter not sure of the answer to that question, although he realized his old friend wouldn’t be at all surprised once he discovered Ralph Elliot was involved.