CHAPTER 39
Edgar came home late. 'I went for a drink,’ he said, 'with Mr Elliot.’
Mildred was astonished. 'The boss? What did he want with you?’
'It's not what he wanted with me,’ said Edgar with dignity, 'but what he could do for me. I asked him if he could recommend a public school that might suit Eldred. He was only too pleased to talk about how he and his wife had chosen the one they did for their sons. He was in a more junior post then himself, and they had to do without a dishwasher or a video or a loft conversion, to afford the fees.’
'Edgar, it's not a question of giving up luxuries, for us,’ said Mildred nervously. 'If Eldred doesn't get some kind of a grant ...’
'Getting the information costs nothing,’ Edgar said. 'And Elliot mentioned there's going to be some restructuring in the firm; there'll be a job vacancy at head office if I'm interested.’
'Aren't you too...? I mean, haven't you been turned down for promotion in favour of younger people before, love?’ said Mildred tentatively.
'They want someone in this post who won't rock the boat,’ Edgar said. 'It's administrative, with responsibility for keeping an eye on the young staff. Elliot said he hadn't thought of me before: I was part of the fixtures and fittings at the Uxbridge branch. But since I had ideas about advancement for my son, he wondered if I was as unambitious as I'd seemed.’
'Oh Edgar,’ Mildred said, 'do you really want to start commuting to the City again every day, at your time of life?’
'I'm fifty-two, not seventy-five,’ said Edgar. 'And if our son needs a better education, it's his father's responsibility to do what he can to provide it for him. It’s not only the well-off who can make sacrifices, Mildred.’
'Of course not,’ said Mildred. She picked up the local paper and opened it. Several entries on the Local Jobs page had been ringed. 'I've been thinking,’ she said shyly, 'that I've got a bit of time on my hands now. Of course, I'm not qualified for anything and I don't suppose anyone would want me ...’
'I don't want you both overworking for me!’ said Eldred, horrified.
His father raised a hand and stopped him. 'You leave this to us, son,’ he said. 'This is a matter for your parents to sort out. You go and read your books.’
Eldred gave him a strange look and backed out of the room.
Looking over his shoulder as he went up the stairs, he saw Edgar take the paper from Mildred and sit down with her on the sofa, saying, 'You value yourself too low, you know. You can do better than cleaning jobs and delivering free newspapers. How about this one? Mature receptionist?’
Eldred went to his room and picked up his current library book but even Professor Stephen Hawking's theories on space and time failed to enthral him. He felt strange. Something was happening to his parents that seemed to Eldred as unpredictable as any shift in galaxies. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.
Tea was late. Even more extraordinary was that when the phone rang during tea, Edgar, instead of saying, 'Let them ring back, Mother: don't decent people know it's teatime?’ got up to answer it and, on hearing that it was Louise Palmer, talked to her for at least four minutes without a trace of hostility.
'We're to go up to town on Friday for the initial interview,’ he told his wife and son, sitting down at the table again.
'What interview?’ asked Eldred.
'For this television programme,’ said his father, as though it was a settled thing that they had all discussed and agreed on. 'I shall take the day off work. People do take days off, you know,’ he said, seeing Eldred and Mildred staring at him. 'I'm as entitled as anyone else.’
Later, when Eldred was in bed, preparing for sleep by mentally redrawing the diagrams from A Brief History of Time, Mildred waited for the commercial break, turned the television's sound down, and said timidly, 'Are you set on the idea of public schools, then, dear? You've always said they're for people with more money than sense.’
'I've said a lot of things,’ Edgar said. 'But when you get a child who doesn't seem to fit the mould, you've got to throw away the theories and let the child show you what he needs, haven't you?’
Mildred hesitated. 'Does it have to be a public school? You hear such dreadful things.’
'What kind of things?’
'You know. Boys.’
The adverts came to an end, the tail-lights of the last Peugeot disappearing into an orange sunset. Edgar automatically reached for the remote control to turn the sound up again, then sat back and looked at his wife.
'You mean,’ he said, 'homosexuality?’
'Well,’ said Mildred, 'you know. These things happen.’ They were both embarrassed.
'You make it sound like it's part of the curriculum,’ said Edgar jovially.
'All very well you saying that, Edgar,’ Mildred said, 'but they don't do a good job of preventing it happening, and if everyone knows it goes on and nobody says anything, then the child just accepts it as normal. Then, by the time he leaves school and can decide for himself, it's too late; he's affected for life.’
'You are worried about Terry Smith,’ Edgar accused. 'You told me that you believed Eldred when he said nothing had happened.’
'I said we had to leave him time to think,’ Mildred said, 'and not go leaning on him, asking questions. It won't work like that with Eldred.’
'He talked to me this morning quite freely, about everything else,’ Edgar said. 'Surely, if there was something, he would have mentioned it.’
'Not if he hadn't worked it out for himself first,’ said Mildred. 'He didn't talk at all to either of us for five years, and goodness knows how long he'd been understanding everything.’
Edgar sighed. 'Is it wrong,’ he said, 'to wish we had a normal child?’
'Not wrong, I don't suppose,’ said Mildred. 'But we have to be thankful he's well now, don't we? He's not in an oxygen tent in a hospital ward.’
'No, that's right,’ Edgar said. He put one arm round his wife and reached with the other hand for the remote control. 'By the way, what kind of a day did you have?’ he said, turning up the sound. A row between two police constables blurred his last words.
'Quite good, dear, thank you,’ said Mildred. 'Educational.’
Genius Page 39
