“Our plans are not certain.” He paused. “We mustn’t detain you, Dr Cassop. I imagine you will have a lot to do—with all these boys to look after.”
The headmaster responded to the accession of brutality in John’s voice. He nodded, and his fear and misery were so apparent that John saw Ann start at the perception of them.
He said: “Yes. Of course. I hope… in better times… Goodbye, then.”
He performed a stiff little half-bow to the ladies, and turned from them and went into his study, closing the door behind him. Davey watched him with interest.
“The fellows were saying old Cassop’s got the wind-up{84}. Do you think he has, Daddy?”
They would know, of course, and he would be aware of their knowledge. That would make things worse all round. It would not be long, John thought, before Cassop broke and made his run for it He said to Davey:
“Maybe. So should I have, if I had a mob like you to contend with. Are you ready to leave, as you are?”
“Blimey!” Davey said, “Mary here? Is it like end of term? Where are we going?”
Ann said: “You must not say ‘Blimey’, Davey.”
Davey said: “Yes, Mummy. Where are we going? How did you get out of London—we heard about all the roads being closed. Did you fight your way through?”
“We’re going up to the valley for a holiday,” John said. The point is—are you ready? Mary packed some of your things for you. You might as well come as you are, if you haven’t any special things to get.”
“There’s Spooks,” Davey said. “Hiya, Spooks!”
Spooks proved to be a boy considerably taller than Davey; lanky of figure, with a withdrawn, rather helpless expression of face. He came up to the group and mumbled his way through Davey’s hasty and excited introductions. John recalled that Spooks, whose real name was Andrew Skelton, had featured prominently in Davey’s letters for some months. It was difficult to see what had drawn the two boys together, for boys do not generally seek out and befriend their opposites.
Davey said: “Can Spooks come with us, Daddy? That would be terrific.”
“His parents might have some objection,” John said.
“Oh, no, that’s all right, isn’t it, Spooks? His father is in France on business, and he hasn’t got a mother. She’s divorced, or something. It would be all right.”
John began: “Well…”
It was Ann who cut in sharply: “It’s quite impossible, Davey. You know very well one can’t do things like that, and especially at times like this.”
Spooks stared at them silently; he looked like a child unused to hoping.
Davey said: “But old Cassop wouldn’t mind!”
“Go and get whatever you want to bring with you, Davey,” John said. “Perhaps Spooks would like to go along and lend you a hand. Run along now.”
The two boys went off together. Mary and Steve had wandered off out of earshot.
John said: “I think we might take him.”
Something in Ann’s expression reminded him of what he had seen in the headmaster’s; not the fear, but the guilt.
She said: “No, it’s ridiculous.”
“You know,” John said, “Cassop is going to clear out That’s certain. I don’t know whether any of the junior masters will stay with the boys, but if they did, it would only be postponing the evil. Whatever happens to London, this place is likely to be a wilderness in a few weeks. I don’t like the idea of leaving Spooks behind when we go.”
Ann said angrily: “Why not take the whole school with us, then?”
“Not the whole school,” John said gently. “Just one boy—Davey’s best friend here.”
Bewilderment replaced anger in her tone. “I think I’ve just begun to understand what we may be in for. It may not be easy, getting to the valley. We’ve got two children to look after already.”
“If things do break up completely,” John said, “some of these boys may survive it, young as they are. The Spooks kind wouldn’t though. If we leave him, it’s a good chance we are leaving him to die.”
“How many boys did we leave behind to die in London?” Ann asked. “A million?”
John did not answer at once. His gaze took in the hall, invaded now by a new rush of boys from another class-room. When he turned back to Ann, he said:
“You do know what you’re doing, don’t you, darling? I suppose we’re all changing, but in different ways.”
She said defensively: “I shall have the children to cope with, you know, while you’re being the gallant warrior with Roger and Mr Pirrie.”
“I can’t insist, can I?” John asked.
Ann looked at him. “When you told me—about Miss Errington, I thought it was dreadful. But I still hadn’t realized what was happening. I do now. We’ve got to get to the valley, and get the children there as well. We can’t afford any extras, even this boy.”
John shrugged. Davey came back, carrying a small attaché case; he had a brisk and happy look and resembled a small-scale Government official. Spooks trailed behind him.
Davey said: “I’ve got the important things, like my stamp-album. I put my spare socks in, too.” He looked at his mother for approval. “Spooks has promised to look after my mice until I get back. One of my does is pregnant, and I’ve told him he can sell the litter when they arrive.”
John said: “Well, we’d better be getting along to the car.” He avoided looking at the gangling Spooks.
Olivia, who had taken no previous part in the conversation, broke her silence. She said:
“I think Spooks could come along. Would you like to come with us, Spooks?”
Ann said: “Olivia! You know…”
Olivia said apologetically: “I meant, in our car. We only have the one child, after all. It would only be a matter of evening things up.”
The two women stared briefly at each other. On Ann’s side there was guilt again, and anger moved by that guilt. Olivia showed only shy embarrassment. Had there been the least trace of moral condescension, John thought, it would have meant a rift that the safety of the party could not afford. As it was, Ann’s anger faded.
She said: “Do as you like. Don’t you think you ought to consult Roger, though?”
Davey, who had been following the interchange with interest but without understanding said:
“Is Uncle Roger here, too? I’m sure he’d like Spooks. Spooks is ferociously witty, like he is. Say something witty, Spooks.”
Spooks stared at them, in agonized helplessness. Olivia smiled at him.
“Never mind, Spooks. You would like to come with us?”
He nodded his head slowly up and down. Davey grabbed him by the arm. “Just the job{85}!” he exclaimed. “Come on, Spooks, I’ll go and help you pack now.” For a moment he looked thoughtful. “What about the mice?”
“The mice,” John ordered, “remain behind. Give them away to someone.”
Davey turned to Spooks. “Do you think we could get sixpence each for them, off Bannister?”
John looked at Ann over their son’s head; after a moment, she also smiled. John said:
“We’re leaving in five minutes. That’s all the time you have for Spooks’s packing and your joint commercial transactions.”
The two boys prepared to turn away. Davey said thoughtfully: “We should get a bob at least for the one that’s pregnant.”
They had expected to be stopped on the roads by the military, and with that possibility in view had devised three different stories to account for the northward journeys of the three cars; the important thing, John felt, was to avoid the impression of a convoy. But in fact there was no attempt at inquisition. The considerable number of military vehicles on the roads was interspersed with private cars in a normal and mutually tolerant traffic. After leaving Saxon Court, they made for the Great North Road again, and drove northwards uneventfully throughout the morning.