‘What did Miss Parish mean, she was born in the wrong century?’ asked Sebastian as Giles drove them back to the Manor House.
‘Simply that women of her generation weren’t given the opportunity to pursue a proper career,’ said Giles. ‘She would have made a great teacher, and hundreds of children would have benefited from her wisdom and common sense. The truth is, we lost two generations of men in world wars, and two generations of women who weren’t given the chance to take their places.’
‘Fine words, Uncle Giles, but what are you going to do about it?’
Giles laughed. ‘I could have done a damned sight more if we’d won the election, because tomorrow I would probably have been in the Cabinet. Now I’ll have to be satisfied with another stint on the Opposition front bench.’
‘Is my mother going to suffer from the same problem?’ asked Sebastian. ‘Because she’d make a damned good MP.’
‘No, although I can’t see her wanting to enter the House. I’m afraid she doesn’t suffer fools gladly, and that’s part of the job description. But I have a feeling she’ll end up surprising us all.’
Giles brought the car to a halt outside the Manor House, switched off the engine and placed a finger to his lips. ‘Shh. I promised your mother I wouldn’t wake Jessica.’
The two of them tiptoed across the gravel and Giles opened the front door tentatively, hoping it wouldn’t creak. They were about halfway across the hall when Giles saw her, curled up in a chair by the last embers of a dying fire, fast asleep. He lifted her gently and carried her up the stairs in his arms. Sebastian ran ahead, opened her bedroom door and pulled back the blanket as Giles lowered her on to the bed. He was about to close the door behind him when he heard a voice say, ‘Did we win, Uncle Giles?’
‘Yes we did, Jessica,’ Giles whispered. ‘By four votes.’
‘One of them was mine,’ said Jessica after a lengthy yawn, ‘because I got Albert to vote for you.’
‘Then that’s worth two votes,’ said Sebastian. But before he could explain why, Jessica had fallen asleep again.
By the time Giles put in an appearance at breakfast the following morning, it might have been better described as brunch.
‘Good morning, good morning, good morning,’ Giles said as he walked around the table. He took a plate from the sideboard, lifted the lids of three silver salvers and selected large portions of scrambled eggs, bacon and baked beans, as if he was still a schoolboy. He sat down between Sebastian and Jessica.
‘Mummy says you ought to have a glass of fresh orange juice and some cornflakes with milk before you visit the hotplate,’ said Jessica.
‘And she’s right,’ said Giles, ‘but it’s not going to stop me sitting next to my favourite girlfriend.’
‘I’m not your favourite girlfriend,’ said Jessica, which silenced him more effectively than any Tory minister had ever managed. ‘Mummy told me that Gwyneth is your favourite girlfriend. Politicians!’ she added, mimicking Emma, who burst out laughing.
Giles tried to move on to safer ground, turning to Sebastian and asking, ‘Will you be playing for the first eleven this year?’
‘Not if we want to win any matches,’ he replied. ‘No, I’ll have to spend most of my time making sure I pass eight O levels if I’m to have any chance of joining the remove next year.’
‘That would please your aunt Grace.’
‘Not to mention his mother,’ said Emma, not looking up from her paper.
‘What will be your chosen subject if you make it to the remove?’ asked Giles, still trying to dig himself out of a hole.
‘Modern languages, with maths as my back-up.’
‘Well, if you do win a scholarship to Cambridge, you’ll have outdone both your father and I.’
‘Your father and me,’ corrected Emma.
‘But not my mama or Aunt Grace,’ Sebastian reminded him.
‘True,’ admitted Giles, who decided to keep quiet and concentrate on his morning post, which Marsden had brought across from Barrington Hall. He slit open a long white envelope and extracted a single sheet of paper that he’d been expecting for the past six months. He read the document a second time, before leaping joyfully in the air. Everyone stopped eating and stared at him, until Harry eventually asked, ‘Has the Queen asked you to form a government?’
‘No, it’s far better news than that,’ said Giles. ‘Virginia has finally signed her divorce papers. I’m a free man at last!’
‘It would appear that she’s signed them in the nick of time,’ said Emma, looking up from the Daily Express.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Giles.
‘There’s a photograph of her in the William Hickey column this morning, and she looks to me about seven months pregnant.’
‘Does it say who the father is?’
‘No, but the Duke of Arezzo is the man with his arm around her in the photo.’ Emma passed the paper to her brother. ‘And apparently he wants everyone to know that he’s the happiest man in the world.’
‘The second happiest,’ said Giles.
‘Does that mean I’ll never have to speak to Lady Virginia again?’ asked Jessica.
‘Yes it does,’ said Giles.
‘Yippee,’ said Jessica.
Giles slit open another envelope and extracted a cheque. As he studied it he raised his coffee cup to his grandfather, Sir Walter Barrington, coupled with the name of Ross Buchanan.
Emma nodded as he held it up to show her, and mouthed the words, ‘I got one too.’
A few moments later, the door opened and Denby entered the room.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Sir Giles, but Dr Hughes is on the line.’
‘I was just about to call her,’ said Giles, picking up his morning post and heading for the door.
‘Why don’t you take it in my study,’ said Harry, ‘then you won’t be disturbed.’
‘Thank you,’ said Giles, almost running out of the room.
‘And we’d better be on our way, Seb,’ said Harry, ‘if you still hope to be back in time for prep tonight.’
Sebastian allowed his mother to give him a perfunctory kiss before going upstairs to collect his suitcase. When he came back down a few moments later, Denby was holding the front door open for him.
‘Goodbye, Master Sebastian,’ he said. ‘We’ll look forward to seeing you again in the summer holidays.’
‘Thank you, Denby,’ Sebastian said as he ran out on to the drive, where he found Jessica standing by the passenger door of the car. He gave her a big hug before climbing into the front seat next to his father.
‘Make sure you pass all eight O levels,’ Jessica said, ‘so I can tell my friends how clever my big brother is.’
27
THE HEADMASTER WOULD have been the first to admit that the boy who had taken a couple of days off to assist his uncle at the general election was not the same young man who returned to Beechcroft Abbey a few days later.
Sebastian’s housemaster, Mr Richards, described it as his ‘St Paul on the road to Bristol’ epiphany, because when Clifton came back to begin swotting for his end-of-term exams, he was no longer satisfied with simply coasting and relying on the natural gift for languages and maths that had always got him over the finishing line in the past. For the first time in his life he began to work just as hard as his less gifted chums, Bruno Martinez and Vic Kaufman.
When the results of their O levels were posted on the school notice board, no one was surprised that all three of them would be starting the new academic year in the sixth form, although several people, not including his aunt Grace, were amazed when Sebastian was invited to join the select group who were chosen to sit for a prize scholarship to Cambridge.
Sebastian’s housemaster agreed that Clifton, Kaufman and Martinez could share a study during their final year, and although Sebastian seemed to be working just as hard as his two friends, Mr Richards told the headmaster it still worried him that the boy might at some time revert to his old ways. Those misgivin
gs might have proved unfounded if four separate incidents hadn’t taken place during Sebastian’s last year at Beechcroft Abbey that would shape his future.
The first occurred early in the new term, when Bruno invited Sebastian and Vic to join him and his father for supper at the Beechcroft Arms to celebrate defeating the examiners. Sebastian happily accepted, and was looking forward to a further introduction to the joys of champagne when the celebration was called off at the last moment. Bruno explained that something had arisen that caused his father to change his plans.
‘More likely he changed his mind,’ said Vic after Bruno had left for choir practice.
‘What are you getting at?’ asked Sebastian, looking up from his prep.
‘I think you’ll find that when Mr Martinez discovered I was Jewish, and Bruno wouldn’t agree to celebrate without me, he called the whole thing off.’
‘I could quite understand him calling the whole thing off because you’re a wet and a weed, Kaufman, but who gives a damn that you’re Jewish?’
‘Far more people than you realize,’ said Vic. ‘Don’t you remember when Bruno invited you to his fifteenth birthday party? He explained at the time that he was only allowed to take one guest, and it would be my turn next. We Jews don’t forget these things.’
‘I still can’t believe Mr Martinez would cancel the dinner for no other reason than that you’re Jewish.’
‘Of course you can’t, Seb, but that’s only because your parents are civilized. They don’t judge people on which cot they were born in, and they’ve passed that lack of prejudice on to you, without you being aware of it. But sadly you don’t represent the majority, even in this school.’
Sebastian wanted to protest, but his friend had more to say on the subject.
‘I know some people think we Jews are paranoid about the Holocaust – and who could blame us after the revelations that keep coming out about what really took place in those German concentration camps? But believe me, Seb, I can smell an anti-Semite at thirty paces, and it will only be a matter of time before your sister has to face up to the same problem.’
Sebastian burst out laughing. ‘Jessica’s not Jewish. A little bohemian perhaps, but not Jewish.’
‘I can assure you, Seb, although I’ve only met her once, she’s Jewish.’
It took a lot to render Sebastian speechless, but Vic had managed it.
The second incident happened during the summer holiday, when Sebastian joined his father in his study to go through his end-of-year report. Sebastian was glancing at the large selection of family photographs on Harry’s desk when one in particular caught his attention: a picture of his mother linked arm in arm with his father and Uncle Giles on the lawn of the Manor House. Mama must have been about twelve, perhaps thirteen at the time, and was dressed in her Red Maids’ school uniform. For a moment Sebastian thought it was Jessica, they looked so alike. Surely it was nothing more than a trick of the light. But then he recalled their visit to Dr Barnardo’s, and how quickly his parents had given way when he insisted that Jessica was the only girl he would consider for a sister.
‘Overall, very satisfactory,’ said his father after he’d turned the last page of Sebastian’s report. ‘I’m sorry you’re dropping Latin, but I’m sure the headmaster will have had his reasons for that. And I agree with Dr Banks-Williams that, if you continue to work hard, you’ve got a good chance of winning a scholarship to Cambridge.’ Harry smiled. ‘Banks-Williams is not a man given to hyperbole, but he told me on speech day that he’s making arrangements for you to visit his old college some time next term, as he hopes you’ll follow in his footsteps at Peterhouse, where of course he was himself the prize scholar.’
Sebastian was still staring at the photograph.
‘Did you hear what I just said?’ asked his father.
‘Papa,’ said Seb quietly, ‘don’t you think the time has come to tell me the truth about Jessica?’ He transferred his gaze from the photograph to his father.
Harry pushed the report to one side, hesitated for a moment, then sat back and told Sebastian everything. He started with how Sebastian’s grandfather had died at the hands of Olga Piotrovska, then moved on to the little girl who had been discovered in a basket in his office, and how Emma had tracked her down to a Barnardo’s home in Bridgwater. When he came to the end, Sebastian only had one question.
‘And when will you tell her the truth?’
‘I ask myself that same question every day.’
‘But why have you waited so long, Papa?’
‘Because I don’t want her to have to go through what you told me your friend Vic Kaufman experiences every day.’
‘Jessica will go through far worse if she stumbles across the truth herself,’ said Sebastian.
Harry was shocked by his next question.
‘Do you want me to tell her?’
Harry stared in disbelief at his 17-year-old son. When does a child become an adult, he wondered. ‘No,’ he finally said. ‘Your mother and I must take that responsibility. But we’ll have to find the right moment.’
‘There won’t be a right moment,’ said Seb.
Harry tried to recall the last time he heard those words.
The third incident arose when Sebastian fell in love for the first time. Not with a woman, but a city. It was love at first sight, because he’d never come across anything so beautiful, demanding, desirable and tempting all at the same time. By the time he turned his back on her to go back to Beechcroft, he was even more determined to see his name printed in gold leaf on the school’s honours board.
Once Sebastian had returned from Cambridge, he began to work hours he hadn’t realized existed, and even the headmaster was beginning to believe that the unlikely might prove possible. But then Sebastian met his second love, which caused the final incident.
He had been aware of Ruby’s existence for some time, but it wasn’t until his final term at Beechcroft that he really noticed her. He might not have done so even then if she hadn’t touched his hand while he was standing at the serving plate waiting for a bowl of porridge. Sebastian assumed it was an accident, and wouldn’t have given it a second thought if it hadn’t happened again the next day.
He was queuing for a second helping of porridge, despite the fact that Ruby had already given him more than anyone else the first time round. As he turned to go back to his table, Ruby pressed a slip of paper into his hand. He didn’t read it until he was alone in his study after breakfast.
See you in Skool Lane at five?
Sebastian was well aware that School Lane was out of bounds, and if a boy was caught there he would get six of the best from his housemaster. But he thought it was worth the risk.
When the bell rang to announce the end of the final lesson, Seb slipped out of the classroom and took a long, circuitous route around the playing fields before climbing over a wooden fence and stumbling down a steep bank into School Lane. He was fifteen minutes late, but Ruby appeared from behind a tree and headed straight for him. Sebastian thought she looked quite different, and not just because she wasn’t wearing an apron and had changed into a white blouse and a black pleated skirt. She had also let her hair down, and it was the first time he had seen her wearing lipstick.
They didn’t find a lot to talk about, but after that first encounter they met twice, sometimes three times a week, but never for more than half an hour, as they both had to be back in time for supper at six o’clock.
Seb had kissed Ruby several times during their second get-together before she introduced him to the sensation of what happened when their lips parted and their tongues touched. However, he didn’t progress much beyond groping and trying to discover different parts of her body as they hid behind a tree. But with only a fortnight to go before the end of term, she allowed him to undo the buttons of her blouse and place a hand on her breast. A week later he located the clip on the back of her bra, and decided that once the exams were over, he was going to graduate in two subjects.
> And that’s when it all went wrong.
28
‘RUSTICATED?’
‘You have left me with no choice, Clifton.’
‘But there are only four days to go before the end of term, sir.’
‘And heaven knows what you’d get up to during that time if I didn’t rusticate you,’ countered the headmaster.
‘But what have I done to deserve such a harsh punishment, sir?’
‘I think you know only too well what you’ve done, Clifton, but if you wish me to spell out how many school rules you’ve broken in the last few days, I will happily do so.’
Sebastian had to stop himself from grinning as he recalled his latest escapade.
Dr Banks-Williams lowered his head and studied some notes he’d jotted down before summoning the boy to his study. It was some time before he spoke again.
‘As there is less than a week to go before the end of term, Clifton, and as you have completed your final exams, I might have turned a blind eye to you being caught smoking in the old pavilion, even ignored the empty beer bottle found under your bed, but your latest indiscretion cannot be dismissed that easily.’
‘My latest indiscretion?’ repeated Sebastian, enjoying the headmaster’s embarrassment.
‘Being found in your study with a serving maid after lights out.’
Sebastian wanted to ask if it would have been all right if she hadn’t been a serving maid, and he’d left the lights on. However, he realized that such levity might land him in even deeper trouble, and that if he hadn’t won an open scholarship to Cambridge, the first the school had achieved for over a generation, he might well have been expelled, and not just rusticated. But he was already considering how he could turn his rustication from a disgrace into a badge of honour. After Ruby had made it clear that, for a small remuneration, she was willing to pass on her favours, Sebastian had happily accepted her terms, and she’d agreed to climb through the window of his study after lights out that evening. Although it had been the first time Sebastian had seen a naked woman, it quickly became clear to him that Ruby had climbed through that window before. The headmaster interrupted his thoughts.