Barefoot and Lost (20 page)

     ‘I have been very upset, in fact all of us have.’

     ‘You will get over it, you have the advantage that you can all grieve together, it will help all of you, so keep your chin up, good bye Phil.’

     ‘Saint Stephen’s is only three quarters of an hour run for us so we may drop in to see how you are getting on, goodbye Phillip.’

     ‘I would like that, bye Auntie Mavis, Peter
, e
rr
,
John.’ Auntie M lets out the clutch and the Gloria glides out of the gate, almost colliding with a taxi on its way in.

     ‘
Mrs.
Miller
and I will take this one; you boys go with
John
in the other taxi. No nonsense now,
John
will tell me if you misbehave.’ The director and
Reverend
McGuire
complete with Panama hat get in the Humber and go on their way to
London
without so much of a glance at us.

     ‘Well lads, are you all okay?’ John the taxi driver asks
,
Jack answers the rest of us deep in our own thoughts.

     ‘Yeah
we’re okay, a bit upset, that’s all.’

     ‘Funerals are never good but I can honestly say that this one; and believe me I’ve been to a few, was the best, I, like nearly all others there was in tears.’

     ‘Where did all the people come from, I’m sure Lion didn’t know all of them?’

     ‘Well, yer see, this church has a tradition going back hundreds of years that, for any funeral for anyone on their own, the whole congregation turns out. That is them that
are
able, because of work and the likes. In forty one, a German airman was shot down near here and was buried in
Saint
Peter
’s. The whole bloody congregation turned up, the vicar said he had never had so many at a funeral before or since.’

     ‘They probably came to make sure he was dead.’

     ‘Maybe but I’d like to think they came out of compassion, and hope that the Germans would do the same for one of our boys over there. In fact they have even put a head stone with an inscription; let me think, there’s his name,
Wolfgang
something or other’---. By now we have pulled up in front St S’s,
John
turns in his seat, ‘---- I’ve got it. Here lies
Wolfgang
Muller
, who came to visit but was persuaded to stay, RIP.

      ‘Do you think they will put a headstone for Lion?’

      ‘Dunno son could do.’

      ‘Well, if they don’t, when I get some money I’ll put one.’

      ‘That’s a nice thought son, you do that; now, are you all going to get out of my cab so I can go and do some work?’

     I want to be on my own and I think the others do too, so I’m making my way to my bolt hole in the library. Chapter seventeen, Queen
Berengaria
and Lady
Edith
are pleading with King
Richard
not to execute
Sir
Kenneth
, that the whole thing was a joke by them that has gone badly wrong. The king won’t listen, now the executioner has been given hi
s orders. A Carmelite monk, who
is a hermit dressed in rags, has come to plead with King Richard. He is followed by an Arab doctor, all of them trying to save
Sir
Kenneth---
. I can hear my name being called, Mr. Simmons head appears over the top step of the stairs, ‘Ah, the
re you are Phillip, tomorrow I’
m taking you for registration at your new school; you need to go and make sure your clothes are ready. You are to wear your best suit, make sure you have a clean shirt and your shoes are highly polished.’

     ‘I was wearing them today.’

     ‘All the more reason to make sure t
hey are suitable for tomorrow.
If you need a clean shirt see the house keeper, no more discussion, on your way.’

     ‘Yes
Mr.
Simmons
, can I finish this chapter?’

     ‘What are you reading?’

     ‘The Talisman’

     ‘Which Talisman, is it the one written by
Sir
Walter
Scott
?’

     ‘Yes.’

     ‘Interesting, is it not too difficult for you to read?’

     ‘Some of the words are, I look them up in the dictionary, but sometimes they are not there so I have to guess.’

     ‘That is because words he has used
are not in our modern English.
Some would say mores the pity. Where are you up to?’

     ‘Chapter seventeen, the monk, and the Physician are pleading for
Sir
Kenneth
’s life.’

     ‘Then you are about halfway through. Would you like me in my spare time to help you read it and explain the words you don’t know?’
Is he being like Flynn,
all nice so he can abuse me
,
I don’t t
hink he is
but you can never be sure, look at Mam we didn’t think she was doing it
.

     ‘I don’t think so
Mr.
Simmons
, I like to read on my own, and that way I can live the story but thank you anyway.’

     ‘I know what you mean, tell you what, any words you don’t know, and can’t find out their meaning, jot them down and I will look at them for you, I’m not saying I’ll know all of them but, with a degree in English literature, I stand a fair chance.’

      ‘That will be great thanks.’

      ‘
Enough chat, come on, get your clothes sorted, the house keeper goes home at six.
’

     Our pow wow is very short tonight, I’m telling them what
Mr.
Simmons
said about helping me, and they all agree I should be careful until we are sure. The funeral is not mentioned, it is, as though if, we don’t talk about it we can pretend it didn’t happen. I don’t like to say anything in case I upset someone; I suppose we are all thinking the same.

     ‘Are you ready
Phillip
?’

     ‘Yes
Mr.
Simmons
.’ T
he taxi is waiting, John the driver greets us, ‘Morning Bill; hello son, so it’s you again is it? I’m gunna have to put you on the payrol
l, you’re in this cab nearly as
often as me’

     ‘Good morning, that would be good, and then I would be able get the money for that headstone.’

     ‘Good Morning
John
, can you take us to the secondary school in Tonbridge?’

     ‘Would that be the Grammar or the other one?’

     ‘The other one, as you put it. The new one’s title
I believe is Tonbridge Secondary Modern School for Boys. I’m not so sure this two tier standard of education is a good idea, how can anyone judge a child, at eleven, and say whether they are suitable for this job or that profession, doesn’t seem right to me?’

     ‘I think it might work, at least it gives kids from poorer families a chance to get on, instead of saving it for the rich kids who might not be as bright.’

     ‘Perhaps you’re right; I just think it will lower the standards of the Grammar schools.’

     ‘If you don’t mind me asking
Bill
, did you come from upper class stock; I expect you went to university.’

     ‘Yes I did,
Edinburgh
.
If you call being the third son of a dentist upper class, then I suppose I did.’

     ‘You’re not a Scot are you?’

     ‘No,
Edinburgh
was the only one that offered me a place.’  

     ‘So, you would agree that the third son of a taxi driver, given the same training as you could do your job?’

     ‘
John
, you argue a good case, yes, I suppose they could.’

     ‘Then I rest my case, would you like me to wait for you?’

     ‘Not if you are going to keep the meter running,
Saint
Stephen
’s wouldn’t agree to that.’

     “No, I’ll wait here. If I get a call I’ll have to go but that’s not likely as no one knows where I am unless I phone in, I’ll just call it my elevenses.’

     ‘That’s good of you
John
, give us an hour.’

     ‘Bloody hell
Bill
, if I wait that long I’ll have to call it me dinner as well, say half an hour, if I’m not here when you come out you have our number.’

    
John
has parked his taxi outside a long two, storey concrete building. The windows are large, almost stretching from the ground to the roof. The windows on the ground floor are blanked out preventing anyone seeing in and, I expect, looking out as well. At the right hand end there is a three storey
red brick, Victorian style building, the roof is very steep and tiled in slates. Just below the gable is a large round window it’s red and green glass glinting in the sunlight. It is to this building we are making our way, across a tarmac area to a flight of six steps that lead to open double doors. Above the door is a crest of some sort bearing a lion and a griffin. Standing on the steps are two boys dressed in blazers, like the ones at church yesterday. ‘Good morning Sir; do you have an appointment?’ the boy on the left asks.

     ‘Yes, my name is
William
Simmons
and this is
Phillip
Snell
, we have an appointment with the principal at ten.’ The boy on the right checks his note book.

     “Very good Sir, the Principal’s office is on the first floor to your right second door on the left, his secretary is expecting you.’

    
Mr.
Simmons knocks on the door, from inside a muffled rep
ly, ‘Come in’ Standing to greet
us is a smartly dressed lady wearing a black suit; under the jacket she is wearing a white silk blouse.
Olive
had one; she said it had been made from a parachute. This lady’s looks like it has been made for someone smaller as the buttons down the front look like they are about to burst open, her black hair is long and silky.
Mr.
Simmons
is looking at her almost staring as though he can’t believe his eyes. I recognize her from the funeral; she was standing beside one of the blazers. ‘Ah
Phillip
, you won’t remember me but I was at the funeral. Welcome to TSM, and your name sir?’

     ‘
I am
Bill Simmons and your name madam?’

     ‘Oh I am so sorry, how rude of me, I am
Prudence
Lansdowne
, such a mouth full, everyone calls me Pru.’

     ‘I am very pleased to meet you Pru’ he says, as he shakes her hand.

     ‘Likewise Bill.’ Pru replies, as they both stand there still holding hands, staring at each others faces until, with a slight look of embarrassment, Pru pulls her hand from Bill’s, then, with a fluster in her voice says, ‘Mr. Lancer won’t be long, he is just finishing an interview; dreadful business with Lionel but what a wonderful send off. I assume you were there
Bill
, and
Phillip
, I know you were.’

     ‘Yes, Pru, I was there, it was such a beautiful service.’ 

     The door to the inner office opens and a skinny kid with black curly hair, and glasses that make his eyes look like saucers, walks through in front of a dour, equally skinny woman. They do not look at us but the woman gives a terse good bye to Pru. ‘Good bye
Mrs.
Peck
and good bye
Roger.’

     Pru enters the inner office and announces, ‘
Phillip
Snell
and
Bill
Simmons
,
Mr.
Lancer
.’

     ‘Show them in Pru’ with a huge smile. I can’t see
Mr.
Simmons
ears going red but, by the way he is looking, I think the smile has had the same effect on him as
Rachel
’s smile has on me.

      ‘You can go in now.’
Mr.
Lancer
is older than I thought yesterday, he is probably about sixty. He shakes hands with me first then turns to
Mr.
Simmons
, ‘
Bill
, may I call you
Bill
, my name is
Harry
?’