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 misgivings 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.