Holding On (50 page)

‘He must have his hat on
all the time
,' she'd said and he'd hastily dragged it out of his little overnight bag and put it on so that Daddy didn't get into any more trouble. Ed had taken hold of her hand then, as if to calm her down a bit, and she'd smiled down at him but anyone could see that she wasn't absolutely thinking about Ed, not properly.

‘Give my love to your family,' she'd said with the same rather hateful sarky note in her voice which the Geography master used at school when the boys got quite easy things wrong, and Daddy's face had gone all still and empty. Ed had come running round to the side of the car then, hanging over the door and saying, ‘Give my love to Jamie and Bess,' while Mummy and Daddy kissed goodbye. They didn't kiss like they used to, once, with Daddy kind of wrapping her up and them both going into one person, but just giving each other a quick sort of dab on the lips while Ed had gone running back to Daddy's side of the car and he'd swung him in the air and wished him good luck . . .

Now Daddy was watching him across the table and he grinned at him quickly and said the first thing that came into his head.

‘I'm glad that Jamie and Bess will be there. They've spent all the Easter holiday at The Keep.'

‘Yes, I know.' Daddy was pouring his coffee as if he were thinking about something else. ‘I think they might be living there permanently for a while. Miles is going to Hong Kong for a couple of years, did Jamie tell you when he phoned?'

Jolyon nodded, feeling important. Daddy never bothered to call people Uncle and Aunt like Mummy did and it made him feel very grown up when his father talked about people as if he and they were all the same age.

‘They've got to sell the Dartmouth house because Miles needs the money to buy a flat in Hong Kong and anyway it was too small for them all.' This is what Jamie had told him when he'd phoned to say that he was looking forward to seeing him and did he mind sharing the bunk bed. Jamie said he could choose whether he went on the top bunk and that they'd told Rex he was coming to see him. ‘They're lucky to live at The Keep, aren't they? I wish we could, then we'd be near you when the ship comes in.'

‘Well, you could be there for some of the holidays, I suppose.' He sounded as if he were thinking it through. ‘If you didn't mind being there with the twinnies.'

Jolyon tucked his right foot under his left thigh, remembered that he wasn't allowed to do it because of spoiling the chairs and let it swing free, looking round quickly in case anyone had noticed. The waitress smiled at him and he grinned back at her with relief.

‘I like the twinnies,' he said, leaning back in his chair. ‘They make me laugh and they play really good games.'

‘I think they do quite a lot of acting and things at school.' Daddy smiled, as if he were remembering something. ‘Mole and Susanna were at school at Herongate, you know, and they used to love the Pioneer camp best. They had tents and camped out in the grounds and cooked stews over the campfire and Matron had to judge which group had made the tastiest stew.' He laughed out loud. ‘How they loved it. They used to pretend they were the Famous Five. Well, two of them.'

‘Jamie and Bess do things like that.' His breakfast was arriving and he looked at it with pleasure. ‘I'm starving,' he said, surprised at how hungry he was, and Daddy and the waitress laughed.

‘Of course, you can't do things like that at a day school.' His father picked up his knife and fork. ‘In some ways it's not so much fun as boarding school.'

‘But they can't go home each night.' He put some sausage in his mouth and had to jiggle it about because it was so hot and was burning his tongue. ‘I wouldn't like that much.'

‘It makes the holidays a lot more special, though.' Daddy didn't seem to be very hungry after all, fiddling about with his food and not eating it properly. ‘Every situation has its pluses and its minuses, I suppose.'

‘I don't blame Ed for not wanting to be a boarder.' Jolyon guessed that his father was worrying about the school thing again and he wanted to make him feel happy. ‘I don't mind that we've got to move to Salisbury, really. It's only that I shall miss my friends at weekends but I shall see them at school and they can come and stay in the holidays.'

The fried bread was delicious. He pierced a piece with his fork and dug it into the soft yellow yolk of the egg. It was a pity that Daddy didn't seem to be enjoying his breakfast at all.

‘Are you feeling all right?' he asked anxiously.

His father sighed. ‘Look, Jo. I've got a problem.'

Jolyon's stomach churned a bit, like it did when he had tests at school. He swallowed the last of his bacon and tried to look grown up.

‘Is it about the ship?' He tried to make his voice casual. When
he
had a problem he liked the grown-ups to sound like that when he told them about it, then he imagined that it couldn't be too bad after all, but it wasn't like Daddy to be anxious. He began to think that perhaps he wasn't too hungry either but he finished up the sausage and the baked beans anyway.

‘No, it's not about the ship.' His father was smiling a little. ‘It's about you, old chap.'

‘Me?' He drank some of his Coca-Cola, wondering if he'd had a bad report from school. ‘Why? What's wrong?'

‘Well, it's difficult to explain but sometimes, in families, things happen and one person has to be looked after a bit more than the others.' Daddy was fiddling about with his coffee cup. ‘It's not that the others are less important or not loved as much but it's just the way things work out. I'm not absolutely certain that it's right for Ed to be going to his new school but he's been offered the chance and so we think that he should take it.'

‘But I don't mind. Honestly . . .'

‘I know you don't. It's not that. The real problem comes when we move to Salisbury. Mummy—
We
think that Edward's a bit too young to board. You have to be very grown up and able to take care of yourself and he's simply not that sort of boy, not yet. The trouble is that with me away at sea and based down in Devon, Mummy's going to find it difficult getting you both to different schools.'

‘But we shall be living quite close to Ed's school.' Jolyon felt frightened without quite knowing why. ‘That's why we're moving. It'll only be me . . .' Quite suddenly he knew what his father was trying to say and he had the feeling that the world had been moved round a bit and all the things he knew and felt safe with had disappeared. ‘Can't I go to the school in Winchester? But why can't I?'

He could tell from his face that Daddy was just as upset as he was. It was as if he wanted to say something really, really badly but something else was stopping him. He put his hand across the table and Jolyon took it. It was warm and strong and he stared down at it, playing with the long fingers.

‘I feel we're all letting you down very badly, Jo,' Daddy said. ‘You see, I shall be too far away to help and Mummy will be going in two directions at once.'

‘But what will I do?' He tried to stop the wobble in his voice and swallowed hard.

‘There are two things you can do.' Daddy was holding his hand tightly. ‘You can go to a day school in Salisbury—'

‘But I shan't know anyone.' Jolyon could feel his lips trembling a little bit, as if he might cry. He pressed them together hard, still staring at his father's hand.

‘I know. So the other thing would be to go to Herongate with Jamie and Bess. They'd look out for you and make sure you were OK and they'd also make certain you make lots of good friends.'

‘Board?' He could hardly believe it. ‘Go away from home?'

‘Well, yes. For the term times. It could be lots of fun and I have a feeling you'd love it once you settled in but you don't have to go. You can stay at home and go to school in Salisbury. You'd soon make new friends. I'm truly sorry, old chap. It seems terribly unfair on you.'

Even through his own misery he could feel that Daddy was angry. Not at him but at someone else. At Ed, perhaps? But it wasn't really Ed's fault, it was Mummy and Grandma who were the keen ones. Poor old Ed was scared stiff about it . . . Something was edging about in his brain like when he was at school doing problems. He could almost see the answer but not quite, although there were all sorts of clues. The clues here were a bit different though; Mummy's cross voice, Daddy's silences, not kissing properly . . . He didn't want to think about it but something made him know that he could make it better or worse. One of his friends had told him that his father had left them, gone off, and now he had another wife and he hardly saw them any more. David cried when he was telling him, and he, Jolyon, had felt terribly helpless and upset and had given him his new set of crayons. Mummy had been furious with him . . . Jolyon's heart gave a terrific jump. Suppose Daddy went off or supposing Mummy did? She might go off with that horrible Adam Wishart who always seemed to be dropping in when Daddy wasn't around . . .

‘I don't really mind.' His voice seemed to come from nowhere, all of its own accord. ‘Whatever makes things easiest. I don't want you and Mummy getting . . . upset . . . or . . . or going off with other people or anything.'

‘Oh, Jo.' Daddy's face looked odd, as if he might cry, which was terrible. ‘I love you very much and I want you to be happy. You don't have to decide now. Just think about it all, will you?'

Still clutching his father's hand, he slipped off his seat and went round to sit beside Daddy, who put his arm about him, holding him tightly.

‘But you and Mummy are all right, aren't you?'

‘We're perfectly all right. We love each other. I promise. It's only because everyone's worked up with getting Edward sorted out and me going to this new ship down in Devon. Poor old you is the one who's dipping out.'

‘But you and Mummy are OK? Certain sure?'

‘Certain sure. It's you I'm worried about.'

‘I'm OK.' He was feeling better already. ‘But I don't know what I'll do.' He hesitated, fiddling with Daddy's plate. ‘What do
you
think's best?'

Daddy gave a really big sigh and settled him more comfortably.

‘It's all a question of whether you think you could cope away at school. If you could it might be nicer for you. Otherwise you might get swallowed up a bit in Ed's routine. Because of being at the cathedral so much, weekends and Christmas and Easter, it might be a tad busy until he's settled down and gets a bit older, if you see what I mean. Now, if you were away, you'd have your own life, your own plans. Matches and school plays and things like that. You might decide you wanted to go down to The Keep with the twinnies for the odd weekend or half term if the ship's in, and then you and I could do things together. And Granny's there, too, of course and she always loves to see you, doesn't she? And dear old Rex. But if you can't face being away from home we'd all quite understand that. It would be perfectly normal and natural.'

Jolyon leaned against him. Deep inside he felt a tiny flicker of excitement. He could quite see that being in Salisbury, trailing in Ed's wake might be a bit boring.

‘Have a think.' Daddy was signalling to the waitress. ‘Talk to Bess and Jamie when we get to The Keep later on. But remember that we want you to be as happy as you can be with this new situation changing things. Now, let's get this show on the road, shall we? Do you need the heads? So do I. I'll go and settle this first. Don't forget your hat.'

He grabbed his hat, still feeling alarmed and unsettled but the excitement was there, deep down. After all, going away to boarding school was just as important as going to the choir school. There would be lots of plans to make and new uniform and things to buy – and Daddy and Mummy would be happy again . . . Jolyon took a deep breath, grinned at the waitress and followed his father across to the cash desk.

Hal stirred restlessly, rolled over and peered at the luminous face of his watch: twenty past four. He groaned softly, covering his face with his forearm as he listened to the stirrings of the birds in the eaves. His dreams had been a confused muddle: scenes with Maria, travelling with Jo, the tour of the boat, their arrival at The Keep. All these happenings had become a ludicrous kaleidoscope with no relevance to the actual events and he'd managed to rouse himself out of one nightmare only to fall headlong into another. Yet, given the circumstances, everything had gone very well. He felt a confusion of emotions when he thought of Jo, sitting across the table, listening whilst he told him how he was to be sacrificed to Edward's musical abilities.

He thought: Mole's right. Having children is a terrifying responsibility. I don't blame him for opting out. By the time parents know whether they've got it right or wrong it's too bloody late. Poor old Jo . . .

He'd loved the tour of the ship, though, and the wardroom had treated him as if he were an honoured guest instead of a small boy of nine. Well, rank hath its privileges and all that, and if his being Captain made Jo feel special, all well and good. Of course, once they'd arrived at The Keep everything had fallen into a calmer perspective and the tension evaporated.

Hal turned on to his side, smiling at the remembrance of his mother greeting Jo as if he were some warrior returning from battle whilst the twinnies, clearly forewarned, had hustled him off immediately after tea to their own amusements. As for Fliss . . . He closed his eyes, wondering why it should have felt so right that she'd been there, waiting for them; smiling at Jo but not fussing him, enabling him to realise that he was one of the family rather than a guest, helping him to find a book to read before he went to sleep, laughing with him at young Fred's latest attempt with the Lego.